Sam knew something was wrong- no not wrong, different- with his older brother the minute Dean had gotten back from Purgatory.

"Cas this… Cas that...," Dean continuously muttered.

Sam could see the guilt of leaving Castiel behind on his brother's stooping shoulders. Sam tried so hard to comfort and console Dean by telling him that there was no possible way that it could ever be his fault. But Dean just pushed aside his brother's words and tried his best to straighten up his shoulders, a fake smile plastered on his usually grim face. Yet, when Dean thought no one was looking, Sam caught glimpses of Dean's detached persona fading, letting his true emotions peak through his hard shell.

Sam continued to notice the little changes: Dean's smile was never truly authentic, his emerald eyes never really sparkled with cheerfulness as they did before, and his stride had a specific lethargic attitude linked to each step, as if he was on the brink of collapsing in on himself. But Sam knew Dean would never allow himself to completely show how much of a mess he was on the inside.

Then Cas showed up, stubborn old Cas with his 'nice peach fuzz' and with the innocence of his ignorance too overwhelming to fake. Dean couldn't get that stupid smile off his face when his eyes came to rest on Castiel (or his hands off his crotch for that matter).

Sam could tell by Dean's sudden change of attitude that when Castiel announced that he would become a true hunter and be their third wheel, that Sam himself would be the one adding the extra sense of balance and support to the trio.

And then Cas fell and for the first time ever, their hunter quartet (Kevin the Prophet included) was composed of four humans, all whom happened to be dropouts: a college dropout, a high school dropout, an advanced placement dropout, and now a heaven dropout. It was a crude and rather miniscule group, but to them it was their makeshift family.

Sam recalled Dean being frantic with worry the second they had witnessed the breath-taking light show that had been the flaming warriors of heaven plummeting towards Earth; they brightened up the sky with their burning wings as they fell. When Cas finally called, saying that he was alright and safe, relief flooded Dean's body and he found his breaths coming easier to himself.

Dean's worry for their newly human companion was still painfully obvious as he urged Cas to get back to the bunker, safe and sound. Cas promised that he would, his gruff voice still ringing in Dean's ears even after the dial tone had signaled the end of their call.

And Cas did just that, partially. As Dean opened the bunked door, both Sam and Kevin saw his ecstatic expression dissolve into more of a perturbed one as a trench-coatless and sleep-deprived Castiel stood in the door way. Cas' knees buckled and he collapsed face-first into Dean's chest.

Sam watched as his older brother struggled underneath the weight of the other man until a rough, "Can you useless sons of bitches help me here?" made its way out of Dean's chapped lips and into Sam's ears, breaking his semi-trance.

Sam immediately shot out of his seat with Kevin hot on his heels. "Kevin, go get some ice, will you?" Sam asked as he draped one of Castiel's arms over his own shoulders. Kevin nodded his head and rushed towards the kitchen, his eyes wide with bewilderment. They all had expected and hoped for Castiel's return but no one had imagined, not even in their darkest daydreams, that he would arrive in such a broken and weary state.

"Let's get you to bed, Cas," Dean said to Castiel and Sam could hear the faint tremble on which his elder brother's words were carried on. Dean was worried, and rightfully so; they all were worried about the mangled figure that had just stumbled into the bunker. "You look like you desperately need some rest, that's for sure."

They had finished laying Castiel down on the nearest bed (which just so happened to be Dean's) when Kevin ran into the room, a Ziploc bag of ice in one hand and a small bottled filled with a thick, bubble-gum pink liquid that Sam quickly recognized as children's painkillers in the other.

A soft moan of pain escaped Castiel's lips.

"Gimme that," Dean spat, as he forcefully grabbed the bag of ice out of Kevin's hand. He applied the cool material on the throbbing fist-shaped mark on the left of Castiel's already scratched up face. Castiel winced at the burning-cold contact.

"I thought he might use some painkillers. Those bruises look like they hurt a lot, but I didn't know if he could swallow pills or not," Kevin explained, holding up the bottled medicine. The liquid sluggishly swirled around it its plastic container as he did so.

"Who knows what he can or can't do anymore," Sam responded as Dean took the bottle out of Kevin's grasp.

"Hey, Cas," Dean whispered, lightly shaking Cas' shoulders. Dean unscrewed the lid. "You need to take this. It'll probably taste like ass, but it will get rid of the pain. At least for a little while."

Castiel responded with a slight nod as Dean tipped the medicine into his open mouth. Dean wasn't sure exactly how much of the medicine Cas needed for it to take effect, so he waited until Cas had downed approximately three-quarters of the gooey liquid before he took the bottle away and tightened the cap back on. Cas took a deep, chest-rattling breath and sighed, mumbling a thanks that got lost in the both the folds of the sheets and the soothing, gentle fingertips of oncoming sleep.

As creepy as it sounds, they all watched Castiel until his eyelids had ceased fluttering and come to rest, and until his breathing evened out into slow and steady pulses. Kevin was the first one to break the silence. "20 minutes on, 20 minutes off." He started towards the door. "For the ice, I mean."

"Well I ain't got nothing better to do," Dean replied as his feet led him to the door and his hands found the knob. He opened the door, weary of its squeaky hinges, and the three men walked out of the room. Sam let a smile dance on his features as he saw Dean glance at the figure in his bed before he shut the door. Dean's green eyes were clouded with worry but there was a small glint of contentment mixed in. Contentment because Cas was in his care now and Dean would be damned (again) before letting anyone even jab a grubby finger in Cas' general direction.

"Damn, " Dean huffed under his breath, "I'm going to miss that stupid, dirty trench coat of his."

Sam allowed himself a small laugh.