Apparently I love writing S8 AUs because here's another one for you! This one is just a single episode AU though, based on 8x21 "The Great Escapist". There will be some references to the episode and maybe some dialogued used throughout, but mostly, it bares little resemblance to that actual episode. There are however, TFW family feels and LOTS of Cas!whump. And NO slash as usual though there is definitely lots of guardianangel!Cas.

A huge thank you to Aini NuFire for betaing this story for me! I sent her the original first draft that I didn't really have any intention of finishing and posting (it was like, not even half the length of this story now) but she kinda convinced me to fix it up and this happened. (Read her stories after you're done here, because they're amazing!)

Warning: This story decided to be super gory and painful. If you don't want to read about crudely performed medical procedures or bloody torture scenes, then you may want to skip this one. But if you're okay with that, then cool, read on :)

Guardian

A Supernatural Fanfic

Part One

Castiel was tired. He had been on the run ever since he had found the angel tablet, when touching it had broken his ties with Naomi just in the nick of time. The scene in the crypt still haunted him though it had been several weeks now since the event occurred. But one didn't just forget beating their friend almost senseless and then running without a word of explanation. He wished he could forget it but knew that he never would be able to. He hadn't fully understood before what Naomi had actually done to him, but realizing it at the same time he was pummeling Dean into the ground hadn't been one of his highlight moments. And then when he had touched the tablet, it had instantly cleared her from his head; he could almost feel Naomi's anger at being pushed aside, and he felt relief like he never had. But also horror at what he had done to Dean when the elder Winchester had tried to plead with him to fight it, telling him he was family. It had all been too much for him to bear, so after he had healed Dean, he had run, partly to keep the Winchesters safe, knowing the angels would be after him as soon as they realized what had happened, but also because he couldn't quite bring himself to face the brothers after everything he had done. It didn't matter that it was technically Naomi's fault, it had been his hands that had killed Samandriel and all those innocent people the demons had possessed, and nearly done the same to Dean. And it had been his lies when the Winchesters had just wanted the truth from him.

But he was reaching the limits of his endurance. He wasn't at full power, he was a fugitive, and couldn't stop for fear that Naomi and her followers would catch up to him and force him to do their bidding. And he couldn't do that. Either way, he would be putting the Winchesters in danger, but as he figured it, if he were with them, he could at least do his best to protect them instead of being used against them.

However, there was the heart of the problem. He was afraid. Afraid that after what he had done to Dean, the elder Winchester wouldn't want anything to do with him. Yes, he had told Castiel they were family, but then the angel had run without an explanation and he was worried the Winchesters would think he was a coward or worse, didn't trust them enough to be near the angel tablet. But he had to do something, and if what the brothers had said about their new hideout—the Men of Letters' Bunker—was true, then it should be a safe place he could stay, undetected by Naomi, until he could think of a better plan.

Tentatively, he dialed Sam's number, not sure if he was ready to talk to Dean directly quite yet, and waited anxiously as the phone rang for a long time. He almost hung up, when a voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Sam?" Castiel asked hesitantly. "Is that you?"

"Cas?" Sam's voice sounded surprised. There was the sound in the background of a chair being scraped across the floor, followed by heavy steps and demands in Dean's voice. "Where have you been?"

"I've been…on the run," Castiel replied wearily. "I can't talk long, if I stay in one place for too long, I'm afraid Naomi will catch up to me. I was wondering if I might…come to your bunker for a while. I…I need someplace fortified to stay while I think of what to do."

"Yeah, of course," Sam replied, then gave him the address.

That was when Cas had shown up, self-conscious of how they would feel about his sudden reappearance. Sam had sounded inviting and glad to hear from him on the phone, but Castiel still wasn't sure what kind of reaction he would get from Dean. After what had happened, he wouldn't be surprised if the elder brother didn't want to talk to him again.

But when he knocked on the door of the bunker, knowing he had no other option, and he saw them standing there; seeing the genuine relief in their eyes, he felt relief himself, realizing that Dean's words hadn't been anything but the truth. They really did see him as family, as he did in return.

"Cas! Where the hell have you been, man?" Dean demanded and surprised the angel by hugging him tightly and slapping him on the back as he came down the stairs, like he had greeted him when he had found him in Purgatory.

"We were worried the angels found you," Sam added, he too hugging Cas after his brother had let him go.

"I'm sorry, I felt it would be safer for you if I left, but I can't run forever, and I must figure out something to do with the tablet before they finally catch up to me," Castiel told them.

"Come on, we'll talk over some coffee, you look like you could use some," Dean said and motioned him further into the bunker. Castiel looked around, never having been there before. He saw how well the Winchesters looked in it. Like it was home. He decided he liked it too; it felt very safe and secure.

The brothers on the other hand looked tired, and drawn thin. It was expected of Sam with his sickness brought on by the Trials, but Dean as well looked ultimately weary.

He found out why, as they sat down at the table and set a cup of coffee in front of him. Dean shared a look with Sam before the younger Winchester turned to Castiel with a deep, steadying breath.

"We, um, we just found out that Kevin's dead."

Castiel glanced across the table at Sam in shock. "Dead? What happened?"

"We don't know," Dean said tersely. "We don't even know if he is actually dead—but if he isn't he certainly ain't anywhere good. We just got a default email message he set up with all the information attached to it that he had deciphered from the demon tablet."

"We think it might have been Crowley," Sam added quietly.

"I'm sorry," Castiel replied sincerely, directing the apology toward Dean especially, knowing the elder brother was beating himself up about it. Castiel hadn't had as much interaction with Kevin as the Winchesters had, but he had liked the young prophet, and it made him utterly sad to think that he had gone through so much only to die so young.

"Me too," Dean replied and expertly set his face straight, voiding it of emotion as he looked across the table at Castiel, all business again. "So, the angel tablet, right?"

Castiel nodded and reached into his coat, hesitantly pulling out the angel tablet and setting it on the table. It hadn't left her person since he had found out it broke his ties with Naomi, and he felt naked without its weight nestled against his chest.

"So we need to hide it?" Sam asked, nodding toward the tablet.

Castiel nodded. "Yes, the angels cannot get ahold of it, it was not…it was not made for us to have. And I'm sure you all know what would happen if Crowley got his hands on it."

"Yeah, definitely don't want that," Dean agreed. "So what do you think? It would probably be safe here; I bet we even have some sort of warded lock box we can store it in. File it away forever if you want."

"There might be one problem with that. I think it's the only thing that breaks Naomi's contact with me," Castiel told them, even now resting his hand on it. "I was going to hide it, but was afraid she may be able to take control of my mind again and pull the location from me. Or just capture me and torture me."

"What do we need to do, Cas?" Sam asked.

"I did have one idea, but I'm going to need your help, and I don't think you're going to like it," the angel said regretfully, and looked the elder Winchester in the eye.

"What, Cas?" Dean demanded.

The angel shifted uncomfortably. "I need to hide it inside of my vessel."

The brothers' eyes widened. "What? What are you talking about?" Dean demanded.

Castiel sighed. "The only way I can think of to keep it hidden and on me at all times is to psychically put it inside of me. They would search my clothes if I was caught, but they wouldn't think to look there, I'm sure of it."

"Are you kidding me?" Dean's eyes flew open in shock. "You're gonna frickin' cut yourself open and shove it in there?"

"No," Cas said, eyes pained as he slid the tablet across the table to Dean, fingers still touching it. "You are."

Dean's eyes flew open even wider. "The hell I am…"

"Dean," Cas spoke sharply. "Please. I could do this myself but it will be excruciating, and I am not at full power. I don't know if I will be able to stay conscious throughout the procedure, let alone heal myself instantly afterwards. I need your help." He sighed. "You understand that, while it might be a better idea to put the tablet into a warded box, I cannot afford to allow Naomi to use me as her weapon any longer. After what happened last time…" He didn't continue, casting his eyes down to the table, jaw tightening.

Dean swallowed hard, looking like he was going to protest, when he finally nodded once. "Fine. If you think this will work, but dammit, Cas, for the record, I think this is a terrible idea."

"Perhaps, but it is the only one I have," the angel said.

Sam cleared his throat. "Should we set up the surgery room we have?"

Dean swallowed convulsively again, looking like he might be fighting the urge to vomit, but he nodded. "Yeah, that would be the best place—I'm certainly not gonna do it in my kitchen."

Castiel held onto the tablet as he followed Dean and Sam further into the bunker. They arrived at a small room off of the infirmary and Dean opened the door with a creak of disuse. Castiel stopped in the doorway as he caught sight of the contents of the room. There was a chair and a metal table and trays of sterile instruments, reminding him of something at the edge of his mind—fear, pain, helplessness, and Naomi's voice at the forefront. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force the memories aside.

"Cas, you all right?" came Sam's soft inquiry.

Castiel shook his head slightly, opening his eyes again to see two worried pairs of eyes on him. "It's just…I think it reminds me of Naomi's attempts to… 're-educate' me."

Dean's jaw tightened at the mention of the angel, and Sam's eyes turned sympathetic and understanding. "You gonna be okay?" he asked.

Castiel nodded decisively. Even though he didn't like being in there he trusted Sam and Dean more than anyone else, and though he hated to make them do this, they were the only ones he knew he could count on. He wouldn't have called on anyone else. "Yes, I'll be fine."

Sam nodded with a small reassuring smile, and began to wipe down the chair with disinfectant while Dean started sorting through the surgical equipment. Castiel shook his head as he saw what he was doing.

"You're going to have to use my angel blade, Dean," he told him. "It's the only thing that will make the wound stay unclosed long enough."

"Dammit, Cas," Dean cursed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Okay, Sam, you got that clean?"

Sam looked up from cleaning the chair. "Yeah, I think we're good here." Castiel was somewhat glad they had chosen the more comfortable looking chair above the cold metal table that he suspected had been used for autopsies judging by the drain and the trough that sat under it. He didn't have to be mortal for that to send a shiver down his spine.

"You ready?" Dean asked, as he fiddled with bandages and the suture kit he had put onto the tray beside the chair. He looked as nervous as Castiel felt.

The angel took a steadying breath and pulled his blade from his sleeve to hand to Dean. The elder Winchester didn't take it instantly and Castiel pushed it closer.

"Dean, please."

Dean finally grabbed it. "I don't like having to do this, Cas," he said sincerely, pain in his eyes. "You're just as much a brother to me as Sam, you know, and I…"

"I know, but please, you have to do this for me," he pleaded, trying to make him understand. "I can't let her get into my head again, Dean. I can't. I think of you as a brother too, you and Sam, and if she forces me to hurt either of you again…"

"Alright," the hunter finally conceded with a sharp nod. "Get ready then, I'm going to scrub up."

"Come on, Dean, you know you always wanted to be in a hospital drama," Sam said with a small smirk, trying to lighten the mood as he helped Cas off with his coats and shirt, putting them to one side. The whole time Castiel held the tablet, not wanting to let go of it even for a second. He was probably safe in the bunker, but still…it was better not to risk it.

"Shut up, nurse," Dean told him as he pulled on a surgical gown over his clothes.

By that time, Castiel had stripped down to his trousers and was getting into the chair. He found his breathing quickening as Sam helped get it into a reclining position, and his hands clenched at his sides, one still clutched around the tablet that he had tucked against his thigh.

"Cas?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Sorry, it's just…"

"Another flashback?" the younger Winchester said quietly. Castiel swallowed hard, ashamed of being so weak. He didn't even fully remember what Naomi had done to him, but this position, this room, caused him to recall too many bad memories and he had to remind himself that he was among friends. Sam decisively pulled a chair over next to Cas so he could sit by his head. One large hand descended onto the angel's shoulder.

"It's gonna be okay, Cas. Over before you know it," Sam told him. "Remember, it's just Dean and me here."

Castiel smiled slightly, grateful that Sam, even though he was hurting and likely wanting to crawl into bed, was there to give his support.

"Okay, let's get this over with," Dean said as he came over, placing the angel blade on the stay by the chair. He looked down at Cas. "I'm guessing there's nothing I can sedate you with that would actually work, huh?" he asked half hopefully.

"It would likely take as much as would be needed for a herd of elephants," Castiel replied wryly. "I think I will just have to bear it."

Dean shook his head with a dark chuckle. "Okay, man. But if you gotta pass out, I'm not gonna hold it against you, okay?"

Castiel nodded and Dean took a deep breath adjusting his grip on the blade. Cas closed his eyes and Sam's hand tightened on his shoulder.

"Okay, I guess I just… dig in?" Dean asked helplessly, deciding there was no reason to stand on ceremony. That would only make it worse for all of them.

"Hold on," Sam said and reached for Cas' discarded belt, folding it in half and putting it between the angel's teeth. '"Trust me," he said and Castiel nodded and bit down.

Dean took a deep breath, trying to force his hand to steady and then before he could think about it anymore, he took the blade and dug into Castiel's flesh, carefully making a slit wide enough to put the tablet in. Cas groaned past the belt in his mouth, his hands fisting at his sides, every muscle taut and trembling. Dean was trying his best to distance himself from the fact that he was willingly causing his friend pain, and not to heal wounds, but to make them. It was one thing to have to re-set a dislocated shoulder or dig out a bullet, but making a new, fresh wound, no matter how necessary it was, made him sick. And worse, it drudged up memories of his time in Hell, torturing for Alastair, things he only wished he could forget. He hesitated for a second, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Dean?" came Sam's soft inquiry.

Dean swallowed hard and took a steadying breath. "I got it. I'm good." He set his jaw and quickly finished the cut, neat and tidy but now bleeding copiously. And worse, there was blue grace leaking from the wound as well. He quickly grabbed a rag to sop up some of the blood and grace that was flowing out of the wound, quickly casting a glance up to look at Cas who had his eyes rolled back in his head, looking too pale, and his teeth clenched around the belt, breathing heavily.

"Hold on, Cas," Dean told him, then nodded to the tablet the angel still kept at his side. "Sam." The younger Winchester handed him the tablet quickly before resettling a strong hand on Cas' shoulder, looking like he was going to be sick.

Dean took the tablet and with a deep breath to steady himself, he looked at the nearly catatonic Cas. "Sorry, buddy, this is gonna hurt like a son of a bitch." He then braced himself, opening the wound and forcing the tablet in.

Castiel screamed, his true voice coming through, and the brothers winced, Sam instinctively clapping his hands over his ears and Dean wishing he could do the same, but he had to finish settling the tablet, get it over with as soon as possible so as not to cause Cas any more agony than necessary. Maybe it was a bit for himself too; his hands were coated in Cas' blood now, and that disturbed him almost more than anything.

Cas suddenly went limp with a small sigh, head rolling to one side and the belt clattering to the floor. Sam quickly reached up, taking Cas' head between his hands and checking for a pulse in his neck. Dean finished inserting the tablet and pressed down on the wound with the rag he had been using, trying to slow the bleeding some until he could stitch the wound up.

"He good?" he asked shakily.

"Yeah," Sam assured him. Dean instantly sent up a prayer of thanks and got back to work.

"Okay, can you keep the wound clean while I stitch him up?" he asked Sam as he reached for another cloth and attempted to wipe the blood from his hands with it but that didn't take it all off. He bit his lip, but chose to ignore it for the time being, instead grabbing the suture kit and threading the needle. It felt like an eternity as he tied off stitches while Sam sopped up blood for him, and he was incredibly glad that Cas was unconscious for this. He was a little worried that the wound wasn't showing any signs of healing yet, but he knew from past experiences that wounds made by an angel blade kept Cas laid up for longer than others, which he could usually heal instantly. The disturbing part was feeling the hardness of the tablet under the angel's skin; he thought wryly how it was a good thing that Cas didn't need the use of his organs like a human did.

Finally, he finished the sutures and left Sam to clean the blood from Cas' skin while he made pads from squares of gauze and taped them securely over the wound, deciding that would hold well enough for now. Only then did he allow himself to run over to the sink on one side of the room to vomit. Sam was there soon after, a hand on his back, murmuring reassurances. He helped Dean get out of the scrubs, as the elder brother was shaking too hard to do it himself, and then Dean quickly scrubbed Cas' blood from his hands with water so hot it was nearly scalding. But he felt a little better after that.

"Let's get him into a bed," Dean suggested, clearing his throat as he finished drying his hands off.

Sam helped him lift Cas, and together they carried him to the room across the hall from Dean's, laying him gently on the bed.

"Go get some extra blankets," Dean told his brother, as he pulled the ones already on the bed from under Cas as carefully as he could and proceeded to tuck them around the angel. Maybe angels didn't get shock, but it made Dean feel better at least and Cas did look pale and feel a bit cold. Sam came back with a heavy wool blanket and Dean added that on top of the others before he stepped back and pulled up a chair to settle in for a vigil, wondering when Cas would wake up.

Dean watched him for a long time, trying to keep his mind from replaying the scene in the surgery over and over. He knew Cas had been desperate, but still…he knew that having Naomi in his head had been a horrible experience, but Dean also didn't want Cas to feel guilty because of what he had done to the hunter in the crypt. Sure, Dean still thought about it, had nightmares even, but it hadn't been Cas' fault and he certainly wasn't angry with the angel—he'd reserved all of that anger for Naomi. Sure, he had been kind of pissed that Cas had run away, but he had come back now, and that was what mattered. Still, he thought that they might need to have a talk about it. And boy did he hate the prospect of that, but after everything that had happened, Dean figured he owed it to Cas for leaving him in Purgatory for Naomi to find and use for her own wishes. If they had just been able to get out together…

But there was no good in thinking of the past. Right now, they needed to think of finishing the trials. Hopefully, that would solve all their problems.

Castiel woke confused, finding himself comfortable, but disoriented as to how he had gotten to where he was. He tried to sit up but pain pulled at his middle and there were suddenly hands on his shoulders, pushing him back.

"Woah, buddy, don't rip the stitches."

Cas finally opened his eyes blearily to see Dean's worried face looking down at him, one hand still on his shoulder, making sure he would stay put before he resumed his seat in the chair beside the bed Castiel was lying in.

"How ya doin'?" the elder Winchester asked, his hands wringing slightly in his lap.

Memory flooded back and Castiel felt a wave of remorse wash over him for what he had asked Dean to do. His hand went to his stomach and found bandages there. He could feel the weight of the tablet inside of him, pushing uncomfortably against his ribs, but he still had the clarity in his head that came with contact to it, and any physical discomfort was worth that.

"I'm…I'll be fine," he said to assure Dean.

"Good," the hunter said, running a hand over his face tiredly. "Don't ever ask me to do something like that again."

Castiel swallowed hard, looking at this man, his friend, his charge. It had been callous of him to ask that of him. He knew better than anyone the sort of memories the action might have brought to the surface for Dean, and suddenly remembered when he'd had to ask Dean to torture Alastair for them—not the same at all, he knew, but how many times would he ask Dean to do things that would put him back into the mindset of his time in perdition? He was supposed to look after the Winchesters, not distress them further; but he had needed help and had no one else to turn to. It had been an unfortunately necessary evil. "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean pressed his lips together and shook his head. "No worries, Cas. I do what I gotta."

"Thank you," the angel replied as he tried to shift into a sitting position.

"Hey, take it easy," Dean told him, surging from the chair again.

"It's not as bad as you think," Castiel assured him as he pushed the blankets down and started to peel off the bandages. Dean looked like he was about to protest, but saw that the wound was mostly healed already and relaxed a bit. "It's still sore, but I will be fully healed in another day or so, provided I rest."

"Then you do that," Dean told him firmly.

"How is Sam?" Cas asked, trying to get the attention off of himself for the moment.

Dean sighed. "Crappy as usual. He's having another bout of fever, coughing up blood on the quarter hour…nothing helps."

Castiel was pained to see the grief in Dean's eyes, the hopelessness that he couldn't fix his brother's problems. Castiel had just as hard a time watching the younger Winchester suffer, knowing he could do nothing to heal him or even ease Sam's pain. He hated seeing his family suffer.

"We will end the Trials, Dean, and Sam will get well again," he assured the hunter.

"And what if he doesn't?" Dean asked suddenly. "You can't heal him now, what if he can't be healed later? What if he doesn't even…" He stopped, looking down and swallowing hard. Cas reached out and gripped his wrist.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he said gently. "But right now we need to concentrate on the information Kevin sent you and see if there's anything that might be helpful. I want to help you and Sam finish this."

Dean gave him a grateful look. "We did consider the fact that finding the scribe Metatron might be our best bet to cracking the Trials now."

Castiel nodded slowly. "You are probably right about that. I think finding him would be a good place to start."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, okay." He sat up and then rose from the chair. "Well, I guess we should get started then."