(no subject)

[elinorwise]

a dream of bodies and lakes by Runarelle, s09e11 First Born, PTSD, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm

“Sam,” Castiel starts slowly, and Sam doesn’t jump this time, for which Cas is grateful. Sam looks at him, questioning when Castiel doesn’t continue for a few moments, and he steels himself. “Have you been seeing Lucifer lately?”
Sam’s body goes rigid and his eyes shutter, the mug settling on the table with a muted clatter as coffee spills from the edges; he doesn’t let go of it even as the scalding liquid splashes on his hands.
“No,” he grits out after a second.
And Castiel believes him, he does. But-- he reaches out and peels Sam’s fingers from around the hot mug, and holds him in his hands. His hands are pink, and the fingers are a deep red. The new scratches are already scabbed over, covering older scratches and scars.
“Does this help?” Castiel asks quietly. Sam doesn’t answer.
For the first time since healing the damage from the Trials, Cas heals Sam again. Letting the stolen grace burn through him and wash over Sam, not only healing his hands, but also easing some of the tension in his shoulders.
Sam still flinches hard before snatching his hands away. He starts rubbing at his palm furiously, biting at his lip.
Castiel’s heart aches.
“I’m sorry,” Sam starts, “I just--”
“It’s alright,” Castiel says. He can understand how an angel's grace could be disorienting and frightening after being possessed by one. He also understands the appeal of pain, the distraction it provides. The faux relief.
There is something indecipherable in Sam’s eyes as he stares at Cas, something small and uncertain. Cas wishes he had his own graces, that he was at full power.
He’d never felt helpless before he met the Winchesters. After that, helpless seems to be the only thing he feels.
A crack splits Sam’s voice through as he speaks, “Are you- are you real?”

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