How can you end my affliction

[ofthursday]

Who: Castiel, Magneto, Chuck, Sam Winchester, maybe others
When: Night of February 8th
Where: HoA, maybe elsewhere
Summary: Castiel and Sam's not-so-secret secret comes out after a massive fight.
Warnings: Blood, violence, horrible decision-making, generally unpleasant subject matter. You're watching Supernatural.

Castiel's landing in the HoA was anything but graceful.

In fact, it really wasn't much of a landing as it was a controlled crash, the angel appearing from nowhere in a sound like shifting cloth and tangled feathers, followed shortly by a thump as he collapsed to the floor of one of the common rooms. He'd made it, just like last time; he was safe here, for now.

He couldn't begin to process trying to figure out what he was going to do, what might happen, how he was going to fix this. He couldn't even think about getting up, just laying in a heap and bleeding onto the carpet from a gash on his temple, half-soaked in water and shivering just slightly while he drifted in and out of consciousness.

Comments

[ofthursday]

Castiel had been mostly out of it when he found himself rolled onto his back, the presence of another person sparking a flash of alarm and the need to fight, but he go no farther than moving a hand before he recognized who it was. Castiel was angry at Michael, but not enough so that he distrusted him to help with this, which had been most of the reason he'd come here.

He went still as told, though more out of exhaustion and pain than the order itself, his whole body feeling strangely as if he weren't connected to it anymore and taking too much effort to control even as various injuries made themselves known loudly. Emotionally, he didn't really care to do much either, too tired to muster up the anger he was feeling over the entire situation, the emotion itself covering up others: betrayal, guilt, embarrassment, fear, sadness, and the all encompassing sense of loneliness that had haunted him off and on his entire time in the Port.

[magnetic_magpie]

He was fighting with his own head, mentally kicking away the flash backs, body tense. "Shhh. Stay still. It's okay, it's okay Castiel, you're going to be all right, just try to relax, you're safe here." He was pretty sure of that, anyway, and none of the injures were life threatening. Shock, certainly, but he wasn't ready to move Castiel yet.

"Can you talk? Tell me what hurts most?"

[ofthursday]

Instead of being reassuring, Michael's gentle words just sparked a memory of Sam's voice, telling him he'd be okay, that it would be over soon, and Castiel firmly shoved those thoughts out of his mind for the moment. At the question, he spoke, though his voice was low and faint out of sheer exhaustion.

"I can talk."

The whole left side of his face was a mass of pain from a combination of Sam punching him and the blow to the head, but he didn't bother to say so; he'd had far worse injuries. He knew enough about humans though to come to the same conclusion as Michael, that none of the injuries themselves were life threatening, but shock was.

"I need not to die." The next words tumbled out just as quietly, but less intentionally. He wasn't afraid of dying, really, even though the didn't want to, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was that if he wasn't able to have a part in what was going to happen, if he wasn't able to try to control this aftermath, something bad was going to happen. Sam was going to die, he was going to kill someone else, he might go after Lucifer and engage in a fight that could have catastrophic effect. Castiel was the only one that had all the pieces to the picture and could try to stop it.

[magnetic_magpie]

The benefit of being an living fMRI is that he can see the reactions of someone's brain - but he couldn't always read them. And while being able to talk was good, Castiel's next words sent a lurch of panic through him. Those weren't words any doctor wanted to hear, ones in the field that spelt disaster. "I'm not going to let you die Castiel." Iron will underlaced his words. "I swear, I won't let you die." And he could, in fact, keep people alive. Use his command of bioelectricity to keep a heart beating, a body going on until more help arrived. He wouldn't let Castiel die, not even if it meant giving himself a brain hemorrhage.

"I'm going to pick you to move you, all right?"

[ofthursday]

Those words, this time, were calming and though he didn't move to nod, it was clear in his eyes that he understood. The question, though, prompted Castiel to try to shift to the side, attempting to shove himself up on his elbows. "I can walk-"

The protest was clearly hollow though; there was no way he could stand up, let alone walk anywhere, and he soon gave up a moment later and sank back to the floor as his vision swam. Again, he didn't give verbal confirmation, but he breathed out quietly and stopped struggling to move on his own.

[magnetic_magpie]

He was moving to scoop Castiel up as soon as he stopped struggling, and Magneto was far too warm for a human, about ten degrees above a fever that would have been lethal to anyone else, carefully supporting Castiel in his arms and carrying him into the smaller, business conference style room - it was easier to manage the temperature in that one and housed the emergency supplies, and he kicked it up high, laying Castiel on a cot after using his powers to lay open a foil blanket to lay him on, pulling out the supplies in wire bins.

"You're going to need another IV, oxygen, and all that again. More equipment to monitor you. As much as I would dearly love for you to be able to kick a fuss up over it, please, work with me." He was already putting the non-rebreather mask together, and covering him with another foil blanket, topped with a heavier blanket. He took a breath, trying to be as calm as he was forcing his body to appear. It wasn't working and he was only partly aware of his thoughts, spinning into a prayer he didn't really realize he was thinking, or how panicked, how scared, he really truly sounded. Oh God. Please, please let Castiel be all right.

babby ;_;

[paterelohim]

As soon as He heard it, He came running. Magneto's voice sounding through His head as clear as a clarion-call: please, please let Castiel be all right.

Well, Chuck didn't know if he was alright or even if he would be, but less than a minute later he crashed into the room, tripping over someone's shoe. He burst in too quickly only to stop dead at the door, taking in the awful sight, white as a sheet. The noises around him that were so clear a moment ago suddenly fogged and blurred into an indistinct haze, insensible under the pounding of His own heart. All he could clearly focus on was Castiel's face.

"Oh god," the words tripped from His mouth without realizing He was speaking. "I felt something, I- no." He trailed off into a horrified whisper.

8(

[ofthursday]

Castiel blanked out most of being carried, next aware as he was being laid down on the cot, blinking a few times and shifting slightly to try to figure out where he'd ended up. He placed the room a few moments later and stopped moving and listened to Michael, and though he also would have liked to be able to put up a fuss he didn't have the strength for it, his heart fluttering in his chest like a bird's.

The blankets provided much-needed warmth--when he he gotten so cold?--but he had to force himself to ignore his claustrophobia, feeling pinned in even though it made no sense to; he always slept under a ton of blankets anyway.

Chuck's arrival was a brief distraction and he shifted his gaze toward the prophet; he wanted to say something and tell him not to panic, that he would be fine, to stop worrying about him, but he couldn't muster up the energy to do so.

/cri

[magnetic_magpie]

Later, he would probably regret snarling at Chuck, but at it was, that was his reaction. "What do you think you are doing? Either get over here and help or get out." He slide the mask over Castiel's face, the strap over his head. Beside him, leeds and tubes plugged themselves into a machine under the cot, and he started opening Castiel's shirt, pushing the clothing away, gently but quickly, sticking EKG leads onto his chest and wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his bared upper arm, and a O2 stat clip on his finger, smacking the machine on. The machine started beeping, colored numbers displaying heart rate, respiration, blood pressure, skin temperature, and oxygen stats. He frowned at the numbers, and quickly covered Castiel back up.

"I'm going to run a PICC line Castiel - it's a little more serious than an IV but lets me push fluids faster." And other medications. He wasn't aware if Chuck would recognize it from something used in critically ill patients, but he assumed the Winchester boys had had one at some point. "But I need to make a small sterile field, so don't move." He donned gloves and was quickly draping Cas in sterile sheets. Chuck could help or not, but there were a gloves and a mask near by if he wants to get closer.

[paterelohim]

The whole time Erik was hooking Cas up Chuck just watched, brain catching up with the rest of Him. He didn't begrudge Erik the hostility- Chuck would've probably done the same thing if the roles were reversed. He was obviously terrified. After a moment Chuck snapped out of it a little, taking a few halting steps closer to the cot, trying to ignore that Cas was in bad enough shape to need a fucking PICC line. He had to keep that out. If he thought about it too hard He'd just start screaming and never stop until the person responsible lay dead and bloodied.

Gloves. Mask. They felt strange on him, like (another) disguise that kept his skin too dry and breath too heavy. There was too much blood and noise and some part of Him wanted to rip out all the cords and do this Himself.

"Michael," Chuck said quietly. "What can I do?"

[ofthursday]

Castiel was silent and cooperative in Michael's efforts, eyes opening and closing erratically while he struggled to stay conscious as over a month's worth of blood loss and stress and the trauma of the fight all began catching up to him at once.

He heard Michael talking, telling him something he was going to do, but he didn't know what it was and didn't have the strength to ask. He was just going to trust the other, has he had last time.

Caatiel couldn't believe he'd been stupid enough to end up like this twice.

[magnetic_magpie]

"Hold his arm." He motioned to where, swabbing Castiel's arm. Normally this was done with an ultrasound and xray to confirm placement - but he didn't need that, he could see without it.

As soon as Chuck was in place to hold Castiel's arm still, he pulled the packet of tubing open. "This will pinch more than an IV at first, and there might be some odd sensation as it's placed, but it shouldn't hurt." A PICC line was, at least here, nothing more than a large bore IV, the difference was the catheter.

[paterelohim]

Chuck moved into place obediently, holding down Cas' arm with one deceptively strong hand and placing the other gently on Castiel's forehead. When Michael was concentrating and didn't need to be heard, Chuck said lowly, "Hey, listen to me- you're gonna be fine, okay?"

[ofthursday]

Castiel concentrated, focused, trying to watch what was going on, but everything was so hazy and it was hard to muster the energy to keep his eyes open. So he didn't; instead he stretched his angelic senses out, relying on his quietly humming grace instead of the failing body he was trapped in.

Suddenly things were clearer, and though it still took strength, he could focus this way. He was aware of Chuck's hand on his arm--which he really wanted off as he wasn't at all okay with being pinned down even in trying to help him--and of Michael's voice, then Chuck's.

He was about to try to respond to Chuck, though he wasn't sure with what, when he felt it. A nagging pressure against the edge of his senses; a presence, approaching the house fast. And he knew immediately who it was, the individual carrying an echo of Castiel's own grace.

His eyes snapped open again and he shifted, finding his voice somewhere with a surge of adrenaline. "Wait."

[magnetic_magpie]

The snap in Castiel's nervous system alerted Magneto, and he was already pausing, body tensing,

"What?"

Around him, ozone thickened a little. Not enough to harm anything but enough to telegraph that he was suddenly very alert.