When you first meet someone in this situation, there is always that moment that you take to look them over.
With women, generally, he would look at their face, breasts, makeup, nails, shoes, then casually sweep them over once, and look them in the eyes. Make a snarky comment, and maybe they would consider you well enough to let you leave the back ledge of the ambulance. It didn't usually work, but it was always worth a try. A hunter has no business being taken care of and issuing statements to the police. The only saving grace was that they weren't actually on a hunt, so there was no weird shit that they could potentially tie them too.
Men were different. Face, ass, shoulders, look them over once, ass again, but eye contact meant confrontation. Snarky comments would make them all the more happy to let you sit your ass there all night.
So Dean made two mistakes.
First, he looked right in the eye of the dark haired man, despite the fact that there was a flashlight being shone into his retinas, to see a bright blue. The type of blue that people write sappy poems about.
"You showing me the light, Angel? Like something you see and want to take me back to those pearly white gates?"
Slightly startled at the light slur in his voice, he was determined to keep looking the EMT in the eye, only blinking when the smaller man narrowed his eyes. "Why would I like seeing a man with a severe concussion?" the man asked, his voice much rougher than Dean had remembered from only a few moments ago when the man was asking him questions.
"And how do you know that I have that?" His attempted smirk came out much feebler than he had anticipated, and he didn't realize how much his head hurt.
"Other than the fact that I have been doing this for seven years? You using that same pickup line three times in an hour might have helped me along." If Dean hadn't been focused on his heart beating in his head, he might have seen the budding smirk on the EMT.
"Where is Harding?" Dean asked suddenly. Pieces of the night started to leak through the flickering haze and clear in his head.
Blink. The blue and red flashes a few yards off cast strange shadows on the face of the EMT in front of him. Blink. Twisted pieces of silver, black, red, and blue metal were off in the distance, various uniforms walking up to, and then back away from the wreck. Blink. They were driving down the interstate. Blink. A car came into the driver's seat. Blink. Blink.
"Hey!" The EMT yelled, bright white filling his head again, always finding its way to his brain through the fissures in the haze…
Dean could feel the pressure on his neck and head, internal and external; something was holding him in place. Hands were on him, machines screaming somewhere around him.
"Stay with me, okay? What's your name? You wouldn't tell me earlier." The dark-haired man was looking at his eyes now, or at least somewhere in that vicinity.
"Tell me yours first," He sounded like he was making his dying wish….
"Castiel."
"Cas-"
Blink. White. Bright. Smelled too much like his house when he was younger. When Dad would leave for days at a time and Mom would just scrub the house down top to bottom. Sometimes, Dean would help, others, he would just sit with her, or go upstairs and stop Sammy from crying…
"Dean?"
His eyes flew right open. "Sammy?" He turned his head wildly, looking for where the voice had come from… Bad idea…
Sam was to his left, face red with tears and distraught. Though he looked as if he was about to laugh as he gently helped Dean rest his head back on the bed.
"Good job, only my brother would get in a seven car pileup on the way to get a beer after a hunt." Hunt? He didn't remember a hunt… "Lucky you, Harding refused to let you drive. That car would have slammed into you."
"Not lucky for Harding," Dean exhaled and let his head sink further into the pillow.
"I'm not worried about Harding right now, your brain isn't bleeding, but they are going to keep you for the next couple days to make sure nothing else happens. You broke your head as much as possible without actually needing surgery."
"Well, I guess I'm a walking rabbit's foot. Bringing us all the good luck." He kept his eyes close, trying to remember, but nothing came back. At least the fog wasn't as thick.
"Do you remember anything all?" Sam whispered, sympathetic.
"No." He lied, lifting his head a little. "Was someone else in here?"
"Not anyone other than a doctor or nurse, why? You expecting a date already?"
He laughed roughly, "Naw, don't worry about it. My head's a little jumbled."
"You aren't telling me anything I didn't already know," a wide grin spread across his brother's face. Normally, he would have smacked it off, but that grin was better than the red, puffy eyes, so Dean would take it.
"How long was I out, anyway?" He asked, eyes still closed, head burrowing into the pillow behind him.
"On and off, this time you might actually remember. It's about 6 am…"
When his eyes opened again, it was much brighter than it had been. Things weren't quite as sharp as they had been either; the throbbing in his head was diminished.
He looked around for Sam's mangy excuse for a head, to ask what the hell he had been given, but instead he was met with two blue, piercing eyes.
"Hello, Dean."
Blink. "Hey, you are… Cas?" He was struggling to remember where this man came from, but he knew he was familiar.
"Castiel," he said in a rough voice, eyes slightly narrowed as he looked over at the beeping machines connected to the man in the bed.
"Close enough." Cas walked up and looked at the chart at the end of his bed, head tilted slightly as he took in the chicken scratch on the page. "Don't like something you see, Angel?" The blue eyes flicked up to meet his own.
"Your brother went to go get lunch, I promised him I would get him if you woke up." Dean wasn't so sure why it bothered him as the man stood up quickly to leave, but it was a strong enough feeling for him to let out a small grunt.
The stranger looked back at him curiously, eyes glancing back over to the monitors as it to make sure the small noise wasn't out of pain. "Stay. Let the kid rest a little and eat. As big as he is, God knows he needs it."
Cas didn't say anything as he went over and sat down uncomfortably on the chair on the far side of the bed. Dean managed to push himself up to sit in a relatively respectable position; He wasn't just going to lay there while he talked to some random stranger.
The man watched him, silently, as Dean fidgeted to get comfortable in the sterilized sheets. When he did, he looked the man straight in the eye. "You are the EMT who sent me here?" He inquired.
"Yes," He didn't even blink. "As you are the man who passed out and proceeded to puke on my shoes."
"Oh, sorry."
"I've seen worse. I was much more worried about the possible bleeding into your brain to be all too miffed about it."
Dean smirked. "I've had worse."
Cas squinted and tiled his head, as if trying to read his mind. It was just a little creepy. "I believe you. I saw your X-rays. You have multiple healed injuries."
"Just proves I am a survivor, doesn't it?"
"Or that you are stupid."
Dean pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling, then back into blue eyes. "Why are you even here?"
The man looked down at the white floor, "I am not sure," he murmured to the tiles, "I wanted to see how you were doing." Dean watched the man sneak a glance back to the monitors, then return his gaze to the floor.
"And how am I doing?" He asked quietly, relieved to see Cas flick his eyes back up to his own.
"It looks as if you will be okay," the man just couldn't hide the ghost of a smile as he looked back down at the floor.
"You are pretty okay looking yourself." Blue eyes rushed back up at him, squinting slightly, mouth open as if he was going to say something…
"Good morning, sleeping beauty. Brought you a burger, extra heart attack as a side, just how you like it." Sam came in, his hair just missing the doorframe as he plopped the tinfoil package down on his older brother's lap.
"Sorry. He had just woken up. I will leave you two to yourselves." Cas looked nervous, and glanced back at Dean one last time.
"It's no problem." Sam laughed, "I can't thank you enough for dealing with my brother and getting him to actually get treated."
"Of course," the dark-haired man nodded.
Dean watched him as he left the room quickly, wondering again what the doctors had given him, and wondering if he was high enough to excuse his comment. Regardless of dosage, Cas really was pretty damn okay.
