Case-fic set sometime during season 4, disregarding most canon events.

Warning for cancer and minor character death.

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Puppy Eyes and Promises

Dean parked the car in the hospital parking lot, asking, "You sure this is the place, Sammy?"

Sam gave him an exasperated look, responding, "Yes, Dean, I'm sure. Five doctors and nurses so far have already died suddenly of heart failure here. Can we not wait any longer? This thing doesn't have any pattern except the location: the private room of one Ashley Henley."

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Dean quipped, "Let's go chat with Miss Henley."

They strode into the hospital room, badges already out and displayed. Instead of the brunette woman they expected to find, they found what was obviously a cancer patient, a young woman if Dean didn't miss his guess. "Um, are you Miss Henley?" Dean asked, face straight. "We need to ask you a few questions regarding the recent deaths in the hospital."

The girl giggled lightly once and answered, "No, my name is Ashley. Call me Ash, Agent…"

"Winchester," Sam blurted, "Agents Winchester." He ignored Dean's heavy gaze and sat down in the chair next to Ash's bedside. "So if you're not Miss Henley, who are you?"

Ash snorted, "Oh, I'm Ash Henley. Miss Henley was my mother."

Dean noted the past tense and automatically responded, "I'm sorry."

Ash rolled her eyes. "For what? Getting my mum drunk enough to think she was sober enough to drive and wrap herself and her car around a lamppost? No, Mr. Winchester, you have nothing to be sorry about."

Sam stepped in. "We heard about the deaths at the hospital and came to investigate."

Ash cocked her head as much as she could against the bed sheets. "Will you believe me this time?"

Dean stepped forward, asking, "What do you mean, this time?"

The girl sighed, "The nurses think my meds are making me hallucinate. But I swear, Myrtle's real! She just wants someone to help her, she's not trying to hurt anyone!"

The elder Winchester shook his head. "Wait a minute. You mean that the culprit is a lost woman trying to get help?"

Ash nodded quickly. "Yes! From what I can gather from our chats, Myrtle had a heart attack about two months ago and went into a coma and passed. When she came to, her body was gone, so she had no idea. I've tried to get her to understand that she just has to let go, but she won't stop. She keeps trying to get doctors' attentions when they come in, and every time she touches them they die. Of heart failure. It's horrible. But she really doesn't mean to do it. She's just lost and - MYRTLE NO! THEY CAN'T HELP YOU! DON'T TOUCH THEM, PLEASE!"

Both of the brother spun around to find a woman in her mid-thirties reaching out to them, eyes leaking tears. In the background, Ash was yelling at the woman to please, leave them be, they can't help her. Dean scrambled back but Sam remained frozen until Ash herself somehow jackknifed out of her bed and wrapped a stick-thin hand around his hand and tugged with all of her meager strength. Then the younger brother moved, and Myrtle vanished with a soft sob.

Dean huffed, "Oh God, Sammy, don't do that to me. Move when the freaking spirit that gives you heart trouble tries to touch you, okay?"

Ash still clutched at his arm, and Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah. Okay, Dean."

Dean gusted out another heavy breath and collapsed into the plastic seat, looking back to the girl in the bed. "So. What's her full name? And do you know where she's buried?"

"Why?"

"We need to let her go."

Ash nodded. "Okay then. Her name is Myrtle Franklin. I think unclaimed hospital patients' bodies are buried in the Hillside Cemetery just off of Bearn and Golf Streets."

Dean glanced up at Sam, who still hovered by the foot of the bed. "Hey Sam," he asked, "You got this one?" Sam stared at him in questioning confusion, and Dean clarified, "I want to talk to Ash for a little while…alone. You know."

Sam did in fact know, and left them to it.

As soon as Sam was out of the door, Dean closed it and turned back to the girl in the bed that he hardly knew, but identified with on a deeper level. "So…what exactly has you in here?" he asked.

Ash grinned sardonically. "Oh, nothing major. Just an inoperable tumor on my left lung that metastasized to my liver and is slowly making it so that I can't breathe for shit."

Dean sucked in a breath. "Damn."

"Yeah," Ash agreed. "Damn. The worst part is the vise."

"The what?"

"The tumor has already basically monopolized my left lung. I've got practically no air space left. So it constantly feels like I have a freaking clamp fastened to my ribcage, squeezing tighter and tighter until I pop like a ripe tomato."

Dean winced. "Um…sounds like you've adjusted."

The girl snorted. "What the hell else am I supposed to do? I'm dying and there's no way around it. If someone wants to deny it until they collapse of hypoxia, be my guest. Me? I'd rather take it as it is and just live until I can't anymore. Sadly, I'm at that point."

"Mm?"

"Finally got the docs to agree to stop wasting morphine on my sorry ass. After all, I can still feel the vise stuck on my chest - the morphine doesn't stop that. Nothing can."

Dean nodded. "I know how you feel."

Ash glanced at him, looking him up and down. "Judging from how healthy you look, no you don't."

Dean shrugs. "Nah, me and Sam, we deal with some weird shit-"

"Weirder than ghosts causing heart attacks?"

"Much weirder. I'm talking Twilight Zone weird. See, me and Sam were hunting this monster that was torturing kids to get its kicks, and, well, we screwed up. Sam was getting the kids out and I was hitting the bastard with a Taser, since that's the only thing that worked on it. But…well, the basement was wet, and lo and behold, I was standing right in the middle of the biggest puddle there was. So when I hit the bastard with the Taser, I got hit too. And according to the doctors, it triggered a massive heart attack, so bad that they were sure I wasn't going to last the week.

"Sam tried to get me to take the meds the doctors were shoving at me, but I figured, what the hell, even with the stupid pills I only had two weeks. So I said no. But Sam, being the stubborn ass that he is, refused to give up and brought me to this faith healer type. Turns out, his wife had actually bound a reaper to her bidding, and it was doing the healing and killing someone else, but hey! I had no clue, Sam had no clue, and bada-bing bada-boom, I was healed. That's how I understand, Ash. Believe me, I get not wanting to drag it out longer. Pain sucks, but sometimes the waiting sucks more."

Ash nodded, eyes wide after the story. She started to speak just as Sam walked back in. Dean glanced up and Sam confirmed, "Salted and burned."

Ash asked, "So she's gone?"

Dean responded, "Yep," popping the 'p' and smirking. "Good job, Sammy."

Sam shrugged. "Guess it's time we get going, huh, Dean?"

Dean shook his head, glancing at the girl on the bed. "Nah, Sam, gimme a few minutes. I wanna see if Cas can do anything."

Sam asked, "But Dean, we don't even know her! Why?"

Dean hissed, "Because she's like I was before the reaper, Sam! Because she knows she's going to die, just like I did, and I want to see if I can stop it!"

Sam acquiesced with a sigh and collapsed onto the floor. "Fine."

Dean bowed his head and shot off a quick prayer to the angel, hoping that he'd respond. Hey, Cas, need you real fast. Can you please show your feathery ass?

A rustle of feathers and a startled gasp from Ash heralded the angel's arrival. Ash asked, "Are you a ghost too?"

Castiel, stiff, responded, "I am not a spirit. I am an angel of the Lord." He turned to Dean. "What do you need, Dean?"

Dean gestured to Ash and asked, "Can you angel-mojo her cancer away?"

Castiel frowned and placed two fingers on her forehead and his hand on her chest. The angel hummed once, either in understanding or in disappointment, and pulled back, stating, "I am sorry, Dean. I cannot do anything." Before the man had a chance to get a word in edgewise, the angel continued, "But I can ask a brother of mine if he can help."

Ash smiled slightly. "Wow. A real angel. You know, I'd always prayed that you guys were real. Until this happened and…let's say that my faith was definitely not cancer-proof. Which angel do you think can help?"

"Japhiel, the Healer."

Ash nodded. "Okay. As long as you think he can help, I'm on board."

Castiel stopped. "I do not understand. We are not on a ship."

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes, grinning in contrast to the exasperation of his actions. "It's nothing, Cas. Just a human thing."

"Oh." The rustling of feathers was the only thing the angel left behind as he flew to Heaven.

When he arrived at the place that Japhiel stood, he wasted no time. "Brother, I need a favor."

"Oh?" the older angel inquired. "Of what sort? You rarely come to me, Castiel. Most of your problems are seen to by Zachariah."

Castiel nodded, but soldiered on. "That may be true, but I still need your help. A young human, who is in possession of one of the brightest souls I have ever seen, is afflicted with something I cannot cure, a disease that stems from her own cells and kills from within."

Japhiel hummed in thought. "Yes. I know of this disease. I cannot cure it, as its cause lies deeper than simply the body. It is embedded in the humans' very DNA, encoded into them by fate. Even I cannot erase the will of fate, Castiel, no matter how much I wish that I could."

"I see," Castiel deferred. "Of course. Can anyone help her?"

Japhiel sighed. "All any of us can do is ease the pain and ensure her passage to Heaven. Will that satisfy you, little brother?"

Castiel bobbed his head and said, "Yes. That will more than satisfy me, as I could feel in her spirit that she only has a little time left. Please hurry, brother, for I fear that she won't live much longer."

Both of the angels flew back to the hospital room, one hopeful and one resigned, both wishing that fate was kinder to the girl with the soul that shone like the sun.

When one more angel than expected landed in the hospital room, Sam grabbed for his gun. Dean's hand, landing on his shoulder and pressing, stopped him. Actually taking the time to look, Sam saw Castiel accompanied by an unknown, who seemed completely comfortable. He lowered his hand and asked, "Who's this, Cas?"

Castiel gave him a searching glance and stated, "This is Japhiel. Did I not say that I would bring him?"

Dean shrugged. "What Sam's wondering is, why the long face?"

Ash piped up, "Can you heal me, Japhiel?"

The unknown angel, now identified as Japhiel, rumbled, "I cannot, and for that I apologize. All that I can do is ease the pain and your pathway to eternity." At those words, the angel leant in and rested a hand on the girl's head. "Peace, young one. All will be well."

Ash's eyes drooped, but she fought the lethargy, barely managing to mumble out the two hunters' names. "Sam, Dean… come…"

Both brothers crowded in, and Dean barely kept himself from grasping her hand. The way his emotions were, he'd end up crushing it. "What do you need, Ash?" Dean asked.

Ash stared up at the ceiling. Dean barely heard her whisper, "Thank you…" before her hand fell slack. Inexplicably, his eyes were wet, and he rubbed viciously at them. Glancing up, he saw Sam staring at him with wide eyes, something deeper than pity shining in the tears. The angels had vanished, but neither man noticed, mourning a girl that they only met by chance, but who somehow touched their hearts in ways that no one else could, simply by existing.

Ash reminded Sam most of Dean when he had almost died from a heart attack - strong on the outside but still pained and alone within. He just hoped that Japhiel had made good on his promise to stop the pain. She didn't deserve to have her last seconds be agonizing suffocation, surrounded by two strangers and two angels.

To Dean, Ash was who he could have been, had he not been healed by the reaper. He would've ended up the same way, confined to a hospital bed and looking for someone, anyone, to talk to. He knew he had Sammy, yeah, but even Sam had his limits, and Dean would have pushed every button in his frustration.

Both brothers caught themselves staring at each other at the same time. Maybe, they both mused, Maybe that's all a guy can do sometimes, just step back and let something else call the shots.

They both snorted in tandem. Not likely to ever happen.

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Comments are greatly appreciated.

I personally have never known anyone afflicted by lung cancer, but I tried to do my research. Even so, if something in this work is unrealistic or just plain wrong, please let me know!