"It hurts," Cas notices when Dean pours alcohol over his scraped hands. "It hurts," Cas exclaims when his fingers touch the hot stove--Dean manages to bandage him up. "It h-hurts," Cas whimpers beneath Dean, who caresses his skin and promises to be gentle. "It hurts," Cas says, pressed against Dean's side as the credits to Titanic roll. Dean kisses his forehead. "It hurts." Cas whispers, blood pouring from his chest wound. Dean can't save him; Dean cries into Cas' cold neck, hurting too.