The screaming was hard, but not because it was Castiel screaming- because it was the things inside of him, clawing at his mind, and at his stomach, and protruding in the most horrific ways, ways that made her feel sick to her stomach. His hand jerked from hers, and she curled her fingers into her lip, nails digging in as she watched.

The Doctor's brow furrowed, furrowed harder, his face contorted with effort as he outran the leviathans, almost panting with exertion as he kept his wall up despite their ferocious hammering. And as soon as he felt the last of them gone, he jerked out the wood, and up went Castiel with it.

Her eyes were wide, her breath frozen in her chest, her heart breaking at his cry of pain, and then there was silence. He fell back, motionless, and the Doctor sprang into action, pressing gauze against the wound, healing it with technology she couldn't comprehend. Started chest compression, pulled out what she assumed to be a very, very high-tech defibrillator. After five minutes of desperate, painful work, he gave up, breathing hard, hands falling to his sides, defeated.

Rose stared at the immobile body, still waiting for something, anything.

"Rose--"

"Don't."

"Rose, I'm s-"

"Just-- just don't, yeah?"

He took her hand, stood shoulder to shoulder with her, and stared down at Castiel. Another minute, and he moved away, turned to leave the infirmary, turned to leave her alone, stone-faced and barely registering.

And then his body jerked, air rushing back into his lungs, eyes snapping open, and for a second, she couldn't breathe.