The first time Castiel kissed Dean, it wasn’t exactly romantic.
“Meg! Over here!”
Castiel coughs, stumbling through the rubble. The fire was out now, but smoke still hangs heavy in the air. Castiel pulls the man out from under a collapsed pile of concrete, and curses. He’s not breathing.
“Meg!” He yells again.
He lays the man out flat and starts mouth to mouth. Tip the head back, clear the passageway, chest compressions—
Meg has found him, but she can’t get past the collapsed doorway. She’s got the oxygen.
“He’s not breathing, I need the mask!”
“I can’t get past this, you gotta hold him until I can get through—“
Castiel’s heart is pounding, but his head feels oddly clear and calm.
Barely three weeks on the job and a major earthquake hits—first one in nearly 40 years, and this—
“Stabilize him, Castiel!”
“I’m trying!” Castiel yells.
Puff of air, then one, two, three—
The man beneath him arches and coughs, choking down air.