On their way back to the bunker, after the fight was over and Lucifer has been expelled, Dean sat in the back of the Impala with a stoic Castiel cradled against his chest whilst Sam drove. The older Winchester was no willing to have the Angel out of his sight.

Castiel had not spoken, but it was apparent from his vacant gaze and unbreakable silence that he was haunted boy recent events. The Angel might be broken but Dean was going to put him back together, piece by piece.

The hunter was certain that he could never fully repent for how he and Sam had treated Castiel over the years; for not offering support when he needed it, not understanding the true extent of his pain. Hurting him, ignoring him, not taking care of him.

Dean's eyes started to sting from restrained tears. He squeezed them shut and pulled Castiel closer, resting his lips against the top of the angel's head.

When they arrived at the bunker Castiel didn't move.

"It's okay" Dean assured the Angel softy, although he wasn't sure why. "I've got you."

He wrapped one arm around Castiel's back and the other under his knees before scooping the Angel up and carrying him inside.

"I'm going to take him to bed" Dean told Sam.

Sam nodded, his brow furrowed with worry. He hated the fact he didn't know how to help his friend.

Dean carried Castiel to his own room. He deposited the Angel on the bed, who continued to stare blankly into an invisible abyss.

"C'mon, let's get you comfortable" Dean continued to talk despite the fact he knew a reply was unlikely.

He retrieved some of his old clothes for the drawers- a large t-shirt and sweatpants - and placed them on the bed beside Castiel.

"I'm going to change your clothes, alright? Let me know if you need me to stop."

Castiel didn't appear to acknowledge the request.

Dean sighed and he eased Castiel up into a sitting position.

The Angel was compliant with taking his clothes off but his movements were jarred and it was like he was on autopilot.

His body was covered in bruises from the fight and Dean was concerned as to why they weren't healing. The hunter went to gather some medical supplies and, one he returned, started to clean the blood up. Castiel didn't even flinch.

He thought back to when he and Castiel had found Raphael's vessel, left catatonic after the archangel was done with him. What if that was happening to Cas? What if Lucifer had damaged him so much he'd never talk again, never even walk?

Stitching up some of Castiel's bigger injuries became a lot more difficult as Dean's hands started shaking and his vision became blurry.

He finished up after a painstakingly long time and then dressed Castiel in the fresh clothes.

Dean pulled back the bed covers and gently manoeuvred Castiel so he was lying comfortably on his back, head resting on the freshly fluffed pillow. The hunter draped the sheets back over the Angel and then pulled up a chair to sit by his side.

"Cas I...I know sorry doesn't even begin to cut it. Hell, it probably means nothing to you, but I'm going to stay right here until you're one hundred percent better. I'm going to look after you like I should have all the others times you were hurt...especially the the times that I hurt I hurt you. I'm going to be at your side because...because I love you, okay?"

Castiel didn't say a word.

Dean just took hold of the angel's hand and brushed his lips softly against Cas' knuckles before resting his own head on the bed.

Castiel had to get better.

Dean didn't know if he could go on without him.

When Dean woke up he had a severe crick in his neck. The hunter sat up with a groan and stretched as best as he could without letting go of Castiel.

He was surprised to see that the Angel was asleep. It wasn't a good sign as it implied that Castiel was becoming human again, but at least he was getting some kind of rest.

If Castiel was human now Dean knew he would need to eat too. The hunter guiltily slipped his fingers from between the angel's and headed down to the kitchen.

He returned to the bedroom a while later with a freshly made PB 'n' J sandwich - Cas' favourite - and a bottle of water.

The angel was awake now and staring up at the ceiling.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Are you going to try and eat for me?"

Dean placed the sandwich on the bedside table and helped Castiel sit up.

He placed the plate in the Angel's lap hopefully.

Castiel didn't move.

"Please, Cas" Dean urged as he tore off a small corner of the sandwich and held it up to the Angel. "Please eat."

Castiel slowly opened his mouth and Dean's heart soared.

He fed Castiel in small bites. It took half an hour just to eat one half, but Dean was so relieved.

"Thank you" Dean said as soon they finished.

Castiel actually offered a small nod before laying down again.

Dean slumped back in his chair.

Progress was clearly going to be slow, but Dean was going to be there every step of the way.

This routine carried on for six weeks. Dean would feed Castiel what he could, but his vessel was losing weight. He would sleep next to the Angel every night, sometimes in the chair, sometimes on the bed with his arms wrapped around Castiel. Those were the nights Dean's own anxiety would take over about someone taking the Angel away again.

He would bath Cas and help him to the facilities when he needed it. Although, the Angel was at least walking now.

Sam was extremely worried about both of them, but he knew that taking care of Cas on his own was the only way Dean would slowly come to forgive himself.

He only interfered to remind Dean he needed to look after himself too.

"You'll be no good to Cas if you're passed out next to him" Sam claimed when the sixth week came around.

He had forced his brother to come and sit with him in the kitchen and eat a proper meal.

"I know" Dean replied miserably; he was itching to get back to Castiel.

It was during a tense silence that the brother's heard the soft thump of bare feet coming down the stairs.

Dean whipped around with wide eyes. His breath caught when the figure emerged.

"Castiel."

"Hello, Dean."