(no subject)

[always_enduphere]

It isn't quiet in the aftermath.

Dean's blood is pounding in his ears, almost a perfect doubletime to the frantic barks coming from the bathroom. Wind whips through the broken windows, scattering the remnants of what would have been dinner, and Dean lies in the heap he'd fallen in, blood beginning to tack where his hand still rests against the sigil.

He needs help.

He needs to help Cas.

Dean rolls onto his back with a ragged breath, broken ribs too sharp against his insides, and manages to extract his phone from his pocket.

His fingers won't cooperate, but after three tries, he gets close enough.

nd hlp my apt pls hurry

Text sent, Dean exhales, concentrating on the pain to keep from sliding into unconsciousness.

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[always_enduphere]

Every rib feels worse before it feels better, but Dean breathes easier for each one snapped back into place, fingers flexing around the hilt of his sword.

"Yeah," he answers around a groan, too aware of his own blood spread in sigils alongside him. "Nothing else could contain him. He's a good man, Rukia." Another rib slides home, and Dean fights down a scream. "It's not his fault."

[unburden]

"I don't need reminding that sometimes, good people can be forced to do terrible things," Rukia tells him quickly, her own jaw tensing for how much it reminds her of Ichigo.

Ichigo, who had found it hard at times to counter the darkness within, the Hollow that constantly fought for purchase in his mind.

"Just stay still," Rukia says, closing her eyes as she checks for any potential punctures in Dean's lungs. Fortunately, nothing vital has been hit — otherwise, she'd be knocking him unconscious at once.

Unfortunately, Dean's probably well aware of his state as well, and Rukia can only count down the seconds until he's inevitably going to try and get to his feet.