For your love, I'm sorry/For your pain, don't worry

[fromfryingpantofire]

It had been happening little by little. Almost small enough increments not to be noticed, but Sam and Dean were both masters of noticing little details. It was the line between life and death far too many times.

(At least when they wanted to. Both were entirely too good at not seeing the forest for the trees when it was something they didn't want to know about.)

It had been slow, but steady. Sam and Dean had their hunts and Castiel had his job and his own life separate from their own. Especially once he got a boyfriend. It was only natural that they didn't get a chance to meet up as often.

But it wasn't just that. More and more often, Castiel begged off from meeting up or simply didn't answer voicemails left for him. And when they were able to get together, Castiel was quieter and obviously pulling away. It was worrying and Sam and Dean sat down and talked about it in the bunker, even pulling Kevin into it. They all agreed that, even if there wasn't a problem, they needed to at least check up on the former angel.

Which was why Sam was outside the gas station in one of the cars from the Men of Letters' garage, waiting on Castiel to finish his shift. This was something that was better talked about in person, anyway.

((Content warning for discussions of abuse and abusive relationships. Also BDSM done wrong.))

Comments

[freetobe]

Csatiel's mouth tightens when Sam places his arm, but he doesn't call attention to the pain that he feels instantly, because he's not suppose to cry over every ache. Just needs to remember that months ago, he asked for that pain, so now he has to deal with getting what he wished for.

There are several marks all over him that speak of irresponsibility or downright cruelty. The skin underneath the collar is purple in the shape of a hand, there's a cigarette burn on the back of Castiel's knee, and his skin is discolored, bruised and broken in more places than the first inspection has revealed.

And he thinks that it was all part of the lifestyle he found himself needing.

"I'm not allowed to wash the scene off and out."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam frowns, catching the tightening of Castiel's mouth. He curses internally and vehemently, but there's no other way to steer Castiel at the moment. He needs to encourage him to move and Castiel doesn't seem all that thrilled at leaving, even if he has asked to come home.

"That's when you're in Jason's house and under Jason's rules," Sam replies, trying to move them toward the door. There's no telling how long Jason will be and Sam doesn't want to confront him with Castiel there. "The rules in the bunker are different. You need to clean off in order to heal properly."

[freetobe]

It's logic, a simple kind of logic that Castiel's life has sorely been lacking, and he can cling to it for now. He can hold on to logic and let that be his rule for now, in a life that has been devoid or rules for quite a while now. It allows him to move properly, so let Sam lead him.

Castiel doesn't go quickly, can't at this point. And he doesn't go with his head held high. But he goes, and he manages not to look back even when fresh air hits his face and Dean opens the Impala's backseat door for him.

When he carefully seats himself, it's with a soft, choked off sound of pain, and with that comes the refusal to let go of Sam's sleeve.

[fromfryingpantofire]

That...that Sam wasn't expecting. He looks at Castiel's hand, frowning for a moment before he puts his hand over the former angel's and crouches. "Cas," he says softly. "I'm okay to sit with you in the back seat. But I think it might be better for me to move around and sit on the other side." It would safe Castiel having to move again, because Sam does not want to hear that sound of pain once more. Every time he hears it, he just wants to hurt Jason more.

Still, he manages a smile for Castiel. "Can you do that for me? Let me go long enough for me to go around the car and get in on the other side? Then you won't have to let go until we get to the bunker."

[freetobe]

The solution to this problem is a surprisingly simple one. As if by accident alone, Dean shifts to look into the back, putting his hand onto the back of the passenger seat that will remain empty for this right.

Castiel stares at Sam for a while, then simply transfers his grip. Dean might not be the stability that Castiel needs right now, but he's still important to him, so it's an adequate alternative source of comfort right now, and comfort is something that goes along very well with stability.

Castiel is not a child, but Castiel is hurting in ways he doesn't begin to understand. At some point, he might shed tears, but not now. He still lacks a certain grasp of what is happening.

After testing the waters for a moment, he finally nods. Yes, He can let go of Sam and wait for him to move around. He's not alone with his pain. Makes tentative eye contact with Dean in the rear view mirror. Sees protectiveness there, sees friendship and family, and knows all that also shines in Sam's eyes.

He has much and more to thank them fore, but for now, running towards them instead of away from them is all that he can somewhat bring himself to do.

[fromfryingpantofire]

They really should never have let Castiel leave the Bunker.

Well, no. There wasn't much of a let, but with Gadreel out of Sam's body, there wasn't really a reason for Castiel to have go to anywhere else. It was just that, by the time they had done that, Castiel had Jason.

But Sam can kick himself over it later. Once Castiel nods, Sam nods as well and stands, shutting the car door solidly before heading around to the other side. He gets in, trying not to jostle the Impala too much, since he has a feeling he knows a couple of reasons for the pain in Castiel's ass. He doesn't want to aggravate it.

Once he's settled, he reaches out, laying his hand over Castiel's where it rests on Dean's. "There. I've got you, now."

[freetobe]

He almost smiles, because oh, those words. They don't remember, neither Dean nor Sam, the way he cradled their bright, glowing souls close in Hell, so small against the mass of his Grace. How he'd whispered 'I've got you, now' before raising them up - or trying to, in Sam's case.

And now they've got him, don't they?

"Yes," he agrees. It doesn't sound relieved, not quite yet. There's tension between one place and the next, tension in the fact of what's to come, and he almost wishes he were back home, trying to ask for a drink so he can survive entertaining their guests.

Instead, he holds on to both his boys and makes it through the ride to the bunker with only a few tears spilling down his face.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Except there possibly is a part of Sam that remembers. For all the pain that he went through with the return of those nearly two hundred years in the Cage, there is definitely a memory in there of a bright, shining light that at least tried.

And for everything that they've gone through, Sam has never blamed Castiel for not being able to get him out.

He doesn't try to stop Castiel from crying. Doesn't tell him that it'll be all right. It's all platitudes right now. What he does do is tell Castiel that he's doing well, that it's only a little further and then they'll be home. Little bits of praise to help Castiel through the ride.

Once they arrive at the bunker, Sam pats Castiel's hand. "Take hold of Dean again, all right? I'll only be a few moments around the car, then I can help you out on your side."

[freetobe]

He has a quiet conversation with Dean while Sam walks around the car, and later can't recall what the conversation was about. Nothing, maybe. It distracts Castiel from the pain he's in. That is, until he has to leave the car with Sam's help.

They're halfway to the door of the bunker when Castiel just stops walking. And standing still it becomes painfully obvious that his legs are shaking. He can't carry himself all the way right now, every step chafing, tearing, hurting.

And he can'T even remember the last time he ate, if he's perfectly honest.

"Can we... can we rest? Just a moment. I'll try again in a moment."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam stops immediately, staying close to Castiel. He looks up at Dean, knowing that he looks at lost as he feels for a moment.

Then he takes a breath and turns to Castiel. "Or I can carry you in. I probably should have offered earlier, but I wasn't sure how much pain you were in. Dean can find you a room and Kevin can help him get it set up when he gets back." They'd had to call the prophet from the road, sent him to get a few items from the store. "I'll take you to the bathroom and we can get you cleaned up. Dean can make sure we have the first aid kit in there fore after you've cleaned up."

There's a chair in the showers because sometimes Sam and Dean are injured enough to need to sit. It would be useful here, too. "You're still one of us, Cas. We only want to help."

[freetobe]

"I didn't know it would hurt this much."

It's a shaky confession, and maybe here is not the best place to make it. But maybe here, right now, is the only place he can confess it. His fingers tighten on Sam's arm. He's pathetically weak. Not a damsel, maybe, but he's never been human. All his strength has come from his Grace, and whatever remained has been systematically beaten out of him by Jason.

"I just wanted peace and order and for things to make sense. Sam. Sam, why did I ask for this? I didn't know..."

He's rambling a little, looking up into Sam's eyes, than over and into Dean's, expecting and maybe even fearing judgement. He hasn't gotten the chance to articulate his thoughts and desires with someone who understood and respected, yet. Jason understood that Castiel was a sub, needed to be a sub, and exploited that fact, but never understood why or how Castiel needed that lifestyle.

[fromfryingpantofire]

It's good that there's no judgement from either of them. Well, not on Castiel, at least. There's plenty of judgement for Jason and Sam and Dean will deal with that later.

Sam steps forward, reaching up to cup Castiel's head, supporting but not forcing his head anywhere. "You asked for it because there's a part of you that needs to not be in control sometimes. As strong as you are, and you ARE strong, Castiel...as strong as you are, you need to be vulnerable sometimes, too."

Sam understood the need, even if from the other side. "You met a man who saw that in you and took advantage of the fact that you didn't know what you needed or what you were getting into. He abused you and made you think it was entirely your idea. But you didn't ask for this, Cas. What he did was so far beyond what's acceptable..."

[freetobe]

Yes, he needs to not be in control. Being in control and making choices has led him on the wrong path so often. Angels are made to follow, and Castiel in particular has always been a follower. It's just the cause that he found not to be worthy of following anymore. He wants someone to take all that free will from him, to show him the entire scope of sensation and intimacy that's too much for him to bear on his own.

Castiel just needs... someone. Something. Vulnerability and a sense of belonging.

He just needs.

Right now, he needs to be home, aches to be washed clean of his sins and mistakes, of the wrong choices he has made yet again. His head moves a little in Sam's hands. A nod, though a tentative one. More like he's taking the information in, not yet able to agree with it.

Castiel looks over to Dean, sees him nod in agreement with Sam, then looks back up at Sam, and finally down at Sam's chest.

"Please help me."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Sam nods as well, sliding his hand to the back of Castiel's head. His hair feels grimy and who knows what Jason had done to Castiel, but a shower is definitely needed.

"This is going to hurt," he tells Castiel. "I'll do my best to make it as quick and smooth as possible, but there's no way that this isn't going to hurt."

He waits for Castiel to acknowledge it before he bends, picking the other man up bridal style. "Just keep breathing. We'll be to the bathroom in just a minute."

He makes his way through the halls of the bunker, Dean peeling off to look for a room near both their rooms so that they can hear Castiel if he needs them. Sam, on the other hand, heads straight for the bathroom, the sounds Castiel is making tugging at his heart. Luckily, they keep all their towels and toiletries in the bathroom, so there isn't another stop to make. Once they're through the door, Sam bends to put Castiel's feet back on the ground and help him stand, staying close so the former angel can lean on him. "There. I've still got you. We'll get you something for the pain when Dean brings in the first aid kit."

[freetobe]

Castiel is shaking by the time Sam puts him down, still feeling oddly disconnected from himself, even though the pain, at least, is pronounced and very easily taken note of. He still has to lean against Sam.

And he dreads the moment Sam has to help him, has to...

Castiel can't even think it right now, has to focus on something else for a little while. Like how bad he is as a human. That he's failed at being an angel, a hunter, a human, a sub.

"Please don't let Dean see."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"I won't." Which, Sam has to admit, is still not bad. Castiel knows that he needs help and he's willing to accept it from Sam, even if he hates it.

Sam brings Castiel over to the wall near the shower and lets him lean against it while he gets the water going. "I'm not leaving the room, but I need to get some towels and the soap and a washcloth." No sponges. He had no idea what sort of injuries Castiel had. "You're going to need to tell me where it hurts, because I'm going to need to pay more attention to those places. See if there's any infection setting in."

If there is, they'll deal with it. But Sam's hoping that they don't have to worry about that. He keeps talking while he gathers what they need, including an extra couple of towels. "Dean will just put the first aid kit in the door when he brings it by. That way I can treat any injuries in here before we go find your room."

[freetobe]

Castiel watches Sam quietly as he moves for a moment, dreading what's going to happen almost more than he would dread going back to Jason right now.

Jason is going to be so furious with him.

For now, Castiel slowly peels off his shirt, careful not to hurt himself more than necessary in the process. The sweatpants pool down easily enough, too. There's nothing sexual about his nudity, not even remotely, despite the toy still tucked away inside of him. This is about Sam trying to make sense of the patchwork of bruises and abrasions, the signs of abuse that dominated his and Jason's bedroom, the suffering so well documented on skin that lost its healthy tan.

He's still slick between his thighs, with too little lube, semen and a little blood, not even worth the effort to clean up.

The only thing Castiel doesn't touch is the collar.

He can't take it off, not yet.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam eyes the collar for a moment before looking Castiel in the eyes and doesn't try to take it off. The water will probably damage it, but it can't make the damn thing any worse. The collar's cheaply made and not well cared for in the first place.

He takes a few moments to get undressed himself, dropping his clothes to the side. There's nothing sexual about his nudity, either. He's done this with Dean, after all, when one of them is too injured to wash alone. Then he reaches out, taking Castiel's hand and drawing him into the shower and under the spray.

He'll look over the wounds soon, get to that plug and deal with it. For the moment, though, he just lets Castiel enjoy the not-quite-scalding hot shower.

[freetobe]

Castiel stands with his back to the shower's wall, though he's currently not leaning on it as he lets the water just run over him for a moment. His arms are wrapped around himself, belying tension and discomfort. Part of him is still trying to hide from Sam, to shrink away.

It's not even that he's ashamed of the marks on his body, but they're private, intimate in ways Castiel hasn't known about before, and he feels strange sharing them with Sam, even though he knows he has to. Even though he knows he called for help, and wants help.

It still feels... off. Without Jason's commands, he's lost, as if he never learned to stand on his own feet after all.

And then slowly, still keeping his back to the wall, he reaches behind him, because it's getting worse with every passing moment, and he just needs to be rid of it right now.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam knows what he's reaching for, so he turns and grabs the chair, bringing it over. "It'll come out easier if you raise a leg." Because, yes, he's done this before. "I'll let you take care of it because...well, because." They weren't that close. Sam wasn't Castiel's dom, even if the one who had claimed the title was a piece of absolute shit.

Sam turns his back, giving Castiel as much privacy as he can manage. He'll absolutely help if Castiel asks for it, but he won't offer. Not just at this moment.

[freetobe]

He tries, he really does. Castiel's fingers shake, but his body just locks up. He wants to be rid of the plug right now, but it's just not happening, he just locks up entirely, tenses. The angle is uncomfortable even with a raised leg, and Castiel bites into his fist to keep from crying out.

It hurts, just the attempt to remove it.

And as the minutes tick by, he realizes he has to ask for help.

"Sam... I can't... I don't think..." Castiel pauses. Just breathes for a moment. Then looks at Sam's back, despairing. "Sam, it hurts..."

[fromfryingpantofire]

It only takes a moment for Sam to turn back, immediately reaching out to take hold of Castiel, wrap an arm around his chest and hold him close. Just give him a moment to settle. "All right, Cas, all right. I'll take care of it."

It's really not what he wants to be thinking about right now. But he'd seen the blood and he knew he'd have to check, anyway. There might be tearing. Hopefully, it was all superficial.

He keeps hold of Castiel, arm across his chest as he reaches down to take hold of the base of the plug. "Just keep breathing and push, okay?" Sam says, keeping his voice low in Castiel's ear. "I know it hurts, but it'll feel better once it's out. Okay. Now, push."

Sam starts pulling at the same time. Not hard or fast, but steady and not letting Castiel go.

[freetobe]

Castiel is dry.

It's a simple fact that without proper lubrication things... aren't exactly easy, and they prove not to be in Castiel's case. If there was even any lube to begin with, i didn't last, and when Sam pulls and Castiel pushes, he has to bite down on Sam's shoulder in order to not scream.

Human sensation is.... so intense.

Castiel wants to weep, and doesn't quite know how he lasts through this kind of torture.

He doesn't ask Sam to stop It would be unfair, because Sam can't stop, can't not pull, and Castiel knows that. Stil he clings to Sam with what little strength he has, and prays for this pain to be over soon.

There's blood and semen, but mostly blood.

[fromfryingpantofire]

"Fuck." Shit, that is not good.

Sam knows how to deal with it, though, and he should have thought about more lubrication, but there wouldn't have been any way to get it in. Not with as dry as Castiel is and how fucking big the plug is.

The plug itself could have been all right, with the right amount of lube and stretching. The fact that it's not, though, just makes Sam angrier. He closes his eyes and keeps pulling, letting Castiel bite and whimper all he needs to as he eases the plug out as best he can. Once that's done, he throws it away, just wrapping his arms around Castiel and holding him. "It's not your fault," he finally says, hand moving up to tangle in Castiel's wet hair. "I know that's how it feels and I know that's what Jason told you, but this isn't your fault, Cas. And I have you."

They'd deal with the blood in a few minutes, which isn't going to be comfortable for Castiel. But just for this minute, he lets Castiel lean against him and just holds him.

[freetobe]

Castiel leans gratefully, just lets Sam support most of his weight for a moment. He feels oddly violated, though not by Sam. Never by Sam, no. He doesn't really know why he feels even more dirty now that he plug is gone. Maybe because he can't even do this along, has let himself be put into this position. There's a disconnect between his mind and body that's slowly bleeding into him again, and he welcomes it, doesn't really want anything to do with his limbs right that very moment.

His breath ghosts over Sam's wet shoulder, lips pressed to the warm flesh just because he doesn't want to move his head.

"I was the centerpiece for orgies. He said he wanted our guests to have a chance to worship me, and I... I wanted that. To be laid on an altar and pray with my flesh. So I agreed."