"Let me close, yeah? I don't want to hurt you." They had realised swiftly that Raphael seemed most calm when only Sam was close by. Maybe it was arbitrary, because Sam had been the first to get to him and therefore the one to lead him out. Maybe he recognised Sam because of the extended amount they had spent together around the Mystery Spot.
Sam had no idea, but he was standing by the door, trying to approach Raphael. He held his hands up, moving closer slowly and gesturing to his own mouth. "I want to free your mouth, Raphael."
It looked grotesque, the way it was stitched up. It looked so surreal it was hard to accept as something he was actually looking at.
Raphael made a strange whine noise from his safe corner, ready to scratch the shit out of the next person to touch him. Castiel had tried earlier and he still bore the marks of his attack. Raphael was not especially strong right now, he was weak with low grace and healing slower than he should. He was covered in blood and filth as he looked up at Sam, far from the picture of an archangel.
At the request, Raphael raised his hands and touched the stitches. They hurt a lot and he wanted them out but any time Sam approached, he backed up until he had no wall left.
He watched Sam intently, eyeing up his hands to try and see if he had any weapons with him. Raising his hand, he pulled at the thread and then whimper. Ow.
"I have these." Sam held up the smallest pair of scissors he'd found, the one by one of the first aid kits they kept around. He hoped it looked as non-threatening as possible, while also being a good tool for the job. "Let me cut it, yeah? You're only going to hurt yourself more if you pull on it."
His heart hurt looking at Raphael like this. It wasn't right. He was an archangel. He was a hero, he had fought for the good of humanity. For the world. "Please, Raphael. I won't hurt you. I want to help."
Raphael fought against all the instincts built in by Lazar and tried to let the other approach without giving into fear and running. After all, he wasn't allowed to run from Lazar - why would he ever be allowed to run from Sam? He watched the other get closer and tilted his head back, looking at him with wide, curious eyes.
He supposed he wanted the stitches out, they pulled and hurt. Sam saved him so Sam had to be safe - right?
"All right. I'm going to sit down in front of you, yeah?" He did it as he spoke, pretty much narrating his actions. Then he held the scissors up, making sure Raphael was watching. "Hold still. I'll cut the thread slowly."
He moved the scissors to Raphael's lips and snipped through the first stitch, then looked at Raphael to make sure it was all right. "Can I keep going?"
His eyes were scrunched up as the scissors cut into the first stitch, his whole body shaking with anticipation. Lazar always liked to undo it to play then redo it before he got sent away. He ripped them open with a knife. The scissors were slower - they hurt less too. He nodded slightly as Sam went slowly, stitch by stitch, undoing them until he could open his mouth.
With his lips parted, his tongue peeked out and nudged the string stuck in his mouth. Everything tasted like pennies. Old pennies.
"Let me pull out the thread, yeah? That's going to sting a bit." Sam tried to be as gentle as he possibly could, pulling the pieces of thread out one by one. Still a horrendous sight, but much better than he had looked before.
He knew that an angel could not get infections, even one as low on grace as Raphael. So he had brought a bottle of coke with him, which he took out of his pocket now and opened. He held it out to Raphael, gesturing. "You should drink. Get a better taste in your mouth."
He took the drink curiously and then sniffed it. Sugary. He missed sugar. He felt a moment of fear and guilt as he checked for Lazar before guzzling it down greedily, hastily, eager to drink. He finished it fast and dropped the can at his feet, his mouth tasting of sweetness and no longer metallic and coppery.
He squinted at Sam, trying to recall why he knew him and where from. His voice was familiar. He remembered it, not just from talks but from voices in his head. Prayers. Asking for help. And now he was helping him instead.
Reaching out, he touched the bruise on the side of Sam's face. Ouch.
"It's nothing. Cas will handle it later. He's already healed Matty." Which made sense, they'd been next to each other. As was usually the case. Anyway, Matty often got more injured, he was that kind of fighter. "Just a few bruises. I think my rib too."
He shrugged, smiling at Raphael. "I'm glad you drank the coke." Seemed like a good sign. "I can bring you some candy, if you want. You love candy."
He wondered whether Raphael could actually understand him. He wasn't certain he could. "Do you want to wash? You could have a shower."
Raphael hadn't used his grace for anything he wanted in a long time. He was low, he barely had any kicking around, but he reached out and stroked Sam's cheek until the bruise was gone. Then his hand went lower, tapping against Sam's chest until the pain left him. It was exhausting to do but Sam was in pain, he wanted to help. All those years and he heard the prayers. Sam wanted him. Sam wanted an angel. He was Sam's angel, obviously, so he was going to protect him.
He didn't really listen to what he was saying, he was more focused on the job. Exhaustion wriggled through his bones and he slumped back, tired but satisfied.
Now Sam wasn't in pain any more. Now he was a good angel.
"Huh." He had just been healed by Raphael. "I didn't even know you could-- I guess it figures. You're the archangel of healing, aren't you?"
Of course, he had been healed by Castiel many times now. This felt different somehow. He felt no pain at the moment. Not that slight ache in his left leg from sitting like this. Not the crank in his neck. Nothing. Completely healed.
And, clearly, it had exhausted Raphael. Great. "Thanks. But you didn't have to do that."
He smiled despite his words, shaking his head. "You should rest. Do I... Should I stay with you?"
Raphael wrapped his arms around his legs and watched Sam. He looked happier, healthier but guilty. Sad, almost. He understood that. He was sad too. He watched him for a bit longer and then pressed his face into his legs, hiding from Lazar.
When Sam needed him, he would come and help. He would show his worth as an angel. He wasn't weak and broken, he could still be of use. He could still be a guardian angel.
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Sam had no idea, but he was standing by the door, trying to approach Raphael. He held his hands up, moving closer slowly and gesturing to his own mouth. "I want to free your mouth, Raphael."
It looked grotesque, the way it was stitched up. It looked so surreal it was hard to accept as something he was actually looking at.
no subject
At the request, Raphael raised his hands and touched the stitches. They hurt a lot and he wanted them out but any time Sam approached, he backed up until he had no wall left.
He watched Sam intently, eyeing up his hands to try and see if he had any weapons with him. Raising his hand, he pulled at the thread and then whimper. Ow.
no subject
His heart hurt looking at Raphael like this. It wasn't right. He was an archangel. He was a hero, he had fought for the good of humanity. For the world. "Please, Raphael. I won't hurt you. I want to help."
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He supposed he wanted the stitches out, they pulled and hurt. Sam saved him so Sam had to be safe - right?
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He moved the scissors to Raphael's lips and snipped through the first stitch, then looked at Raphael to make sure it was all right. "Can I keep going?"
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With his lips parted, his tongue peeked out and nudged the string stuck in his mouth. Everything tasted like pennies. Old pennies.
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He knew that an angel could not get infections, even one as low on grace as Raphael. So he had brought a bottle of coke with him, which he took out of his pocket now and opened. He held it out to Raphael, gesturing. "You should drink. Get a better taste in your mouth."
no subject
He squinted at Sam, trying to recall why he knew him and where from. His voice was familiar. He remembered it, not just from talks but from voices in his head. Prayers. Asking for help. And now he was helping him instead.
Reaching out, he touched the bruise on the side of Sam's face. Ouch.
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He shrugged, smiling at Raphael. "I'm glad you drank the coke." Seemed like a good sign. "I can bring you some candy, if you want. You love candy."
He wondered whether Raphael could actually understand him. He wasn't certain he could. "Do you want to wash? You could have a shower."
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He didn't really listen to what he was saying, he was more focused on the job. Exhaustion wriggled through his bones and he slumped back, tired but satisfied.
Now Sam wasn't in pain any more. Now he was a good angel.
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Of course, he had been healed by Castiel many times now. This felt different somehow. He felt no pain at the moment. Not that slight ache in his left leg from sitting like this. Not the crank in his neck. Nothing. Completely healed.
And, clearly, it had exhausted Raphael. Great. "Thanks. But you didn't have to do that."
He smiled despite his words, shaking his head. "You should rest. Do I... Should I stay with you?"
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When Sam needed him, he would come and help. He would show his worth as an angel. He wasn't weak and broken, he could still be of use. He could still be a guardian angel.