Imagine Castiel reading to Jack while he heals. Maybe he can’t accelerate the process. So he reads to Jack and brings him food.
Imagine him sitting on one end of the couch at one in the morning, with Jack’s head in his lap, stroking his hair and reading Sherlock Holmes to him while they wait for Jack’s shattered knee to set.
And sometimes Jack dozes a bit, listening to Cas’s voice, and sometimes he explains things to Cas that he doesn’t understand. He tells Castiel about Victorian London, what it was like. Or one of the stories will mention a place and Jack will smile and mention a detail that the stories didn’t contain. Or Cas will tell Jack things that he didn’t notice at the time.
And it still hurts and throbs but Jack treasures the time nonetheless, For once forced to stay still and with nothing else in the universe banging down their door.