We'll be okay
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters, they belong to their respective owners. I also do not own anything I have referenced throughout this story.
A/N: This story was written from a fanart and AU summary by Levicastiel and Rubyrising on the Wincest Heaven blog, I'd suggest not reading it if you want to avoid spoilers for this story. Also, if any of you are QAF fans, there's a cameo of one of the characters in this story.
CHAPTER ONE
As soon as he heard the click of the door, 6 year old Castiel ran from his Aunt's arms and flung himself at his older brother.
"Woah there, buddy!" Began Dean in shock, sinking to his knees so he was level with his little brother. There was something wrong with Dean's voice, something wrong in the way he smiled. Cas would have never picked up on it though, it would never occur to him that Dean's eyes were red, it would never occur to him that when Dean's mother followed him through the front door; her eyes were red too.
Dean ruffled Cas's jet black hair. "What have you been up to, buddy?" He asked, trying to keep his smile fixed firmly in place. In the car on the way home, he told himself that it would be an easy thing for him to do.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
"Auntie Jane read me some stories," Cas began, his little nose wrinkled as the memories swam back to him. "But she did it wrong, she didn't do it like you do, with the voices."
"Well-" began Dean, trying to keep his enthusiasm to the level Cas was used to. "Why don't I read to you now?"
Dean's smile dropped, instead of the jovalent smile he expected from Cas's usually so happy face, his brother looked forlorn, concerned even. He reached one hand out to Dean's bicep and just held it there.
"Cas?" Asked Dean, concern overshadowing his turmoil as he stared at his brother, usually able to read him so easily. "What's wrong?"
Cas didn't talk for a moment. "Why did you have to go to see a doctor?" He asked eventually, worry deep in his young eyes.
Dean looked down for a moment, unsure of what to say. As Dean looked up, he breifly caught the red and puffy eye of his mother who was stood behind them.
There was no way Cas could understand, there was no possible way Dean could explain.
"The doctor says I'm going to have to stay in the hospital for a while." Dean decided finally, forcing that smile back onto his face.
"Why?" Asked Cas, face scrunched up in confusion.
"'Cause...err..." Dean faultered for a second, feeling the horrible sinking weight in his stomach again. "'Cause I'm sick, Cas." He admitted, noting how his mother ducked out of the room into the kitchen, he watched his Aunt follow.
"You're sick?" Asked Cas, bringing Dean's attention back to him, his eyebrows furrowed. "I don't like being sick. But I'll come visit you everyday," the little boy promised, nodding his head. "I'll bring you soup and read you the stories..."
Dean smiled and cursed himself internally as he felt his eyes well up. Don't fucking cry. He berated himself.
"I'd like that." He admitted, wrapping his strong arms around Castiel's weak body. When Dean felt Cas hug him back all he could do was hold on tighter.
…
As soon as Jane was in the kitchen, she rounded on Mary, seeing how sore her eyes looked and how tired her face was. Jane couldn't begin to understand what she must be going through.
"Well?" She began, "did Dean's tests come back? What did the doctor say?"
Mary rubbed her face with her hands and shook her head slightly, willing herself to get the words out.
"It's a tumour." She said, barely audiable.
Jane blinked a few times. "Wh...what?" She stammered. "No, no, he can't..."
"It's on his spine," Mary pressed on quickly, "the cranial nerve, it's affecting his brain. That's why he was getting so dizzy, why he kept losing his balance all the time." Her voice cracked on the last word and her hands flew to her face again, covering her quivering mouth as she gasped again.
"Will they be able to take it out?" Asked Jane, her voice came out calmer than she had suspected. Lifeless, she supposed.
Mary lowered her hands from her face and took a few short, shallow breaths. "They said they're going to keep him on a hospital ward with some other sick kids, they're gonna run some tests and observe him and see if it's safe enough to operate."
Jane sensed the inevitablility before Mary said anything, before she got the words out her heart went out her nephew.
"...What if they can't take it out?" She asked eventually, finding it hard to make eye contact with Mary.
Mary burst into sudden, unexpected tears. Dry, racking sobs that made her whole body convulse.
Jane pulled her sister to her and wrapped her arms around her. She knew Mary couldn't envision losing Dean. Ever since John had died, Mary wouldn't be able to cope with seeing another member of her family die. She couldn't lose Dean, he had always been her lifeline, Cas's too.
After a few short moments, Mary gently pushed her sister away and made an effort to compose herself.
"How's Dean taking it?"
Mary glanced up at her sister, hated the look of pity in her eyes.
"He's being brave," Mary admitted, fondly. "He's always been brave, he told me that he doesn't want to scare Cas, but..." Mary sighed, "Dean's always been a defeatest, ever since John died."
Mary suddenly looked so old, older than she'd ever looked before. "He doesn't think he's gonna make it out of this." She admitted, a level of despair hidden beneath her resignation.
Jane put her hands on Mary's shoulders and forced her younger sister to look at her. She had always seen so much of Dean in Mary, it was the same pair of green eyes looking at her now.
"Dean's strong," Jane reminded her sister, "you know that, he knows that. He's going to be just fine."
…
Dean stood in the bathroom, facing the mirror.
They'd be going to the hospital soon and Dean had told his mom he was just going to brush his teeth.
He'd tried to convince himself it was the light in the bathroom, but as soon as Dean had put the brush to his mouth a searing headache spread through his brain, more painful than he had ever experienced before.
He dropped the toothbrush on the floor and gripped the sides of the basin tight, willing the waves of pain to subside, trying to ride himself through it.
Dean collapsed to the floor, more out of despair than anything else.
He didn't feel like curling up and crying or locking himself away, but this was it. This was actually it.
As Dean clutched his head he wondered what death would feel like, he hoped it wouldn't be as painful as this.
Part of him also wondered why in the hell he wasn't scared. Sure, he felt like shit that his life was ending and it hurt like hell to know he was leaving Cas behind, but beyond that there was no fear.
He was gonna die, he guessed he deserved it.
Dean rocked himself lightly on the floor as he felt the spasms of pain in his skull get fewer and far between. He breathed quickly as the shocks subsided, the feeling of no pain almost glorious as he sat hunched over on the bathroom floor.
He prayed that is mother wouldn't come barging in without knocking like usual to tell him to hurry up. Or worse, Cas would come wandering in and find him writhing around in pain, it would break his little heart.
Dean shut his eyes in defeated contentment as the pain finally stopped, he sat on the floor and leant against the cool bathtub for a while, just basking in the feeling of nothingness.
He knew the pain was going to get a lot worse, but then he knew the feeling of nothingness was going to get a lot worse, too.
…
Cas was holding Dean's hand as they walked into the hospital ward where Dean would be spending the foreseeable future.
Dean looked around with empty eyes, all feelings of optimism drained away a long time ago.
The ward was clinical on one side, with beds and monitors and all the other stuff you expected in the hospital, but the other side was much different.
It was painted warmly with a TV and a bookcase and games and toys littering the floor. Dean shrugged to himself, this place was more homely than he had first expected. It didn't change anything though.
"Wow!" Cas exclaimed by Dean's side, having apparently caught sight of the play area, "lets go look!"
Cas took off so suddenly and unexpectedly that he caused Dean to stumble forward.
"Castiel!" Their Mother berated suddenly, "be careful with your Brother, he's sick!"
Dean turned his head away immediately, feeling a hot blush seep through his cheeks and simultaneously wondering if his Mother could have said that any louder.
"Sorry, Dean." Cas said, looking a little sheepish.
"No worries, little man." Dean assured him, taking Cas's hand again. "Come on, lets go look at the toys."
The pair walked over to a little section by the corner of the room with a toy box and little chairs, this looked like it was for kids Cas's age, this ward must have got all sorts.
But there only seemed to be one patient here, it was a boy.
Dean assumed he couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen, with longish, semi-shaggy brown hair. He was lanky, but not as tall as Dean and he was wearing a white t-shirt with white pyjama bottoms and a hospital bracelet around his wrist. He was obviously a patient, but Dean really wasn't looking forward to that get-up.
Sat perched on his lap was a little blonde girl around Cas's age, and the boy was reading to her. His voice was soft but full of enthusiasm that made the little girl giggle every few minutes. Dean couldn't help a small smile despite his weariness.
She was cute.
"Hello!" Cas said suddenly, interrupting the pair as he bounded up to them with his 6 year old manners. "I'm Castiel. What are you reading?"
"I'm so sorry," began Dean suddenly, walking to Cas and kneeling down next to him. "Cas, you can't just interrupt people..."
"It's okay, really." Said the boy, causing Dean to look up at him. He looked a little tired, but his eyes were bright and he had a smile on his face. Dean frowned slightly, if he met him on the street he would never have known he was ill.
"Hello, Castiel." The boy continued, talking directly to Cas, enthusiasm in his voice. "What a nice name, my name is Sam, and this is my little sister, Jessica. Say hello, Jess."
Jess waved shyly at Cas, her blonde curls bouncing.
"Jess," began Sam, leaning closer to his sister, "why don't you show Castiel the toy box?"
" 'kay." Began Jess, jumping from Sam's lap, she walked to the toy box and Cas followed.
Sam stood up and faced Dean, little smile still in place.
"Hi, Sam Wesson." He introduced, holding out his hand. Dean caught sight of the hospital bracelet again.
"Err...Dean, Winchester." He said, forcing his hand out and shaking Sam's.
Sam shook his hand warmly, immediately taken with how attractive Dean was. He had strong features and the most beautiful green eyes Sam had ever seen. Although he figured a hospital ward wasn't the best place to hit on someone.
Sam could, however, immediately see how lifeless Dean's eyes seemed to be. He held himself firmly like he was afraid he was going to fall at any moment.
"Are you visiting?" Asked Sam, feeling like it was a bit of a dumb question considering he was the only one on this ward.
"Err...no." Dean admitted, seemingly a little withdrawn. "I'm actually...gonna be bunking here for a while."
Oh, thought Sam. He knew straight away, the only reason Dean would be in this ward was because his illness was fatal or at least near-fatal.
One look at the strong person in front of him told Sam that there was no way Dean wanted to talk about it, so Sam didn't say a word.
Cas and Jess suddenly came wandering back over in animated conversation, breaking the rather awkward conversation. Dean sighed internally in relief.
"This is Dean," Cas was saying, with pride in his voice as he walked over to his big Brother. Dean smiled in Jess's direction and waved at her, she smiled shyly back at him.
"So, it's pretty cool in here, isn't it ,Castiel?" Sam asked, and Cas nodded excitedly.
"Yeah! Dean! There's so much cool stuff we have to play with..."
Dean watched as Sam nodded and smiled at everything Cas said to him. Part of him was glad that Sam seemed to be talking to Cas like he was a person and not just a little kid, but another part of him couldn't fathom how the kid seemed so happy. He was stuck in a hospital ward with God knows what wrong with him but he was still smiling, still making the effort to talk to people and it all seemed genuine. It didn't look anything like the fake enthusiasm Dean saw in the mirror everyday.
Dean turned his head to see the Doctor who had shown them to the ward and his Mother walking over to them. They seemed to be talking to another couple, and a boy around Dean's age with sandy hair eating a lollipop.
"Ah, Dean." The Doctor greeted as they reached them. "I see you've met Sam. Mrs. Winchester, this is my patient, Sam Wesson."
"Nice to meet you." Sam smiled politely. "Dean," began Sam, turning to him. "This is my Mom, Dad and my Brother, Gabriel." He explained, gesturing to the people Dean had seen his Mother talking to.
"Hi." Said Dean awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
"I'm glad you're making friends already." The Doctor continued, addressing Dean. Dean didn't mind him, he seemed genuine. "I'll make sure to put you in the bed next to Sam."
Dean suddenly felt like a freaking kid in 5th grade picking which friends to sit next to in class.
"It's no big deal." He said casually to the Doctor, hoping he'd drop it.
"It's okay." Said Sam from behind them, and Dean could hear that damn smile in his voice.
"Excellent," began the Doctor, consulting a clipboard before looking back up to them. "Dean, would you like to come with me so we can get you signed in?"
Dean dutifully followed the Doctor until he suddenly lost his balance and stumbled forward. He caught himself before he fell and immediately felt Cas hugging his leg, asking him if he was okay. Dean felt the embarrassment soar through his cheeks again as he tried to regain his balance.
This had been happening more often lately, at first he'd only been losing his balance occasionally and his lack of co-ordination had been practically non-existent, but now he could barely take two steps without falling over.
It was the tumour, the Doctor had explained that to him when he'd found out he had it. It was effecting his brain, his balance, his co-ordination. Dean had never been particularly graceful but he'd never been clumsy.
After he was diagnosed he practically refused to go outside incase it happened in public and he felt like a total idiot, kind of exactly like he was feeling now.
"Dean," the Doctor said softly, obviously understanding Dean's condition. "Let me help..."
"No!" Began Dean, sounding irate. He gently pulled Cas's hands from his leg and stood straight, trying to hide his burning face from the crowd around him.
The Doctor nodded minutely at Dean and carried on walking, Dean followed without saying a word.
"What's up with him?" Asked Gabriel bluntly as soon as Dean and the Doctor were out of sight.
"Gabe!" Sam scolded in a loud whisper, aware that Dean's Mother and Brother were stood right there. "He's sick!"
"Mommy!" Cas said, tugging on his Mother's arm. Mary looked down at Cas, trying to hide the concern in her eyes.
"Cas, honey?" She questioned.
"I'm worried about Dean," he said, tears brimming in his eyes. "I don't want to go."
His Mother smiled reassuringly down at him. "Honey, Dean is going to be just fine."
"But..." began Cas, "he keeps getting dizzy and falling. What if he hurts himself?"
Sam knelt down so he was at Cas's level, a comforting smile on his young face. "Don't worry, Cas, I'll keep an eye on him. I promise."
After a moment, Cas nodded.
…
Dean's eyes shot open early the next morning to the sound of a hacking, painful cough. Dean rubbed his eyes and turned over in the surprisingly comfortable hospital bed to see Sam, sat up with his hand covering his mouth as he coughed.
Dean sat up tiredly, briefly wondering what time it was, although light was streaming through the open windows.
He rubbed his eyes again, fully aware that he probably looked like shit.
"You all right?" He asked, as Sam gave one last, dry cough before lowering his hand. Dean could see that his eyes had been watering.
Sam smiled weakly up at Dean. "Yeah, I'm good."
Dean frowned slightly in mild confusion, but a Nurse Dean hadn't seen before came over to them before Dean could say anything else.
"Morning, Dean." She said, smiling falsely. "How are you feeling today?"
Dean shrugged. "Fine."
She turned to Sam. "Sam, it's time for your cocktail." She told him.
Sam nodded. "Okay." He answered, before she wandered off again.
Dean's brow furrowed. "Cocktail?" He questioned, "what, you need to get drunk round here?"
Sam laughed, it was a happy sound. It almost made Dean want to laugh too.
"Not that kind of cocktail, It's my medication." Sam explained, eyes shining.
Oh, Dean's head dipped down and he chuckled, embarrassed. "Right, sorry."
Sam shook his head. "You're funny." He admitted.
Dean stared at him for a few moments as the Nurse brought some pills and a glass of water over to his bed. He momentarily considered asking Sam what was wrong with him, but a part of him didn't want to intrude, and another part of him reminded him that they didn't even know each other. The only thing they had in common was the fact that they were both dying.
A wrecking ball of emotion suddenly came crashing down on Dean. He must have forgotten, only for a little bit, why he was here. What was going to happen.
He hung his head for a moment, his feeling of being all right and actually feeling okay deteriorated down into his normal defeat.
Dean lifted the cover off of himself, catching sight of the white get-up he now wore, identical to Sam's, he rolled his eyes at himself.
Dean perched on the end of his bed and watched as Sam downed a considerable number of pills, his eyes shifted and he noticed the heart monitor on the side of Sam's bed, he didn't say anything.
Sam placed the now empty glass down on the night stand next to his bed.
"So," he began, "what does everyone do for fun around here?"
Sam raised an eyebrow to Dean. "Everyone? It's just us, here."
Dean looked around and suddenly noticed that the few other beds in the ward were empty and made. No one was sleeping in them.
Dean made a noise that sounded like a grunt. "I guess everyone else must have been lucky." He said, more to himself than anyone else.
He heard Sam make a noise beside him. "We're lucky." He said quietly, but like he meant it.
Dean hunched his shoulders a little as he looked down. "Yeah, I have a hard time believing that." He admitted, hearing the emptiness in his own voice.
When he looked up he found Sam staring at him. "Why?" He asked.
Dean chuckled humourlessly. "Let's just say I've never been much of an optimist."
Sam pursed his lips but didn't answer, it was a little obvious that Dean had absolutely no hope, but he didn't bring it up.
"So, it's just us, then." He said eventually.
Dean nodded in agreement. He looked to Sam, he supposed he'd have to make conversation with the kid, it looked like they'd be stuck with each other for a while. "My Brother said he'd visit everyday." He said, a little dumbly.
Sam nodded, smile returning to his face like was recalling a fond memory. "I like Cas, he's a good kid."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, he is. You seem to have a pretty sweet set up," he continued, "parents, siblings, the whole nine."
Sam ducked his head a little, small grin playing on his lips. Dean frowned a little, it was the same sort of reaction he generally got when he was flirting with a girl he liked.
"I think Jess is a little taken with you." Sam admitted, bringing Dean from his reverie. Dean chuckled a bit.
"She's a sweet kid," he amended, "how old is she?"
"7." Sam answered, "she hates it, though. Being the youngest, Gabe is 19 so he always gave her a rough time of it."
"Same age as me." Dean muttered, trying to keep the conversation going.
"Really?" Asked Sam, "you're 19?" He sounded genuinely shocked. Dean nodded.
"I thought you were older."
"Why? How old are you?" Dean asked.
"17." Sam told him. The kid wasn't that much younger than Dean after all, maybe they had more in common than he'd previously thought.
…
They stayed on the ward for most of the day, Sam had shown Dean all the stuff they had around here to keep them amused. As it transpired, the pair didn't have all that much to talk about.
They'd only known each other for a few hours, but Sam had already deduced that Dean was an enigma. There was something about him that Sam just couldn't figure out. He kept to himself, that was obvious and Sam suspected he might even be a little depressed, and not just because of whatever was wrong with him, either.
But aside from that, Sam quickly learned that Dean was an absolute charmer.
The way he laughed was captivating and if he looked up at Sam through his long eyelashes one more time Sam feared he might actually explode.
Sam couldn't be gaining a crush on a fellow patient, especially on a fatal illness ward, it was something right out of a love novel.
But one of the main things Sam couldn't figure out about Dean was why he was so sad. He didn't know what was wrong with him, he didn't know if he was in any pain. But he seemed to have, given up. Like he'd resigned himself to this hospital ward with no intention of getting out.
Sam knew how boring it got around here but Dean didn't complain once, he didn't seem annoyed or angry or even particularly scared. He just seemed defeated.
"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Dean said out of nowhere, causing Sam to nearly drop the book he was reading.
"Sure." He said, marking his page and giving Dean his full attention.
Dean looked like he didn't exactly know how to phrase his question. "How is it, you're so happy all the time?" He asked finally.
Sam looked confused. "What do you mean?"
Dean shrugged slightly. "I dunno, I guess, when I thought about coming here I assumed it would be the most depressing place on the planet, full of kids moaning and crying and everything. And you just seem pleased with everything, and you've been here on your own before I came. I just don't get how you haven't been driven insane yet."
Sam laughed. "I guess I just see the bright side to the situation." He admitted.
Dean looked more confused than ever. "How is there a bright side to any of this?" He gestured redundantly to the ward around him.
"Well, you've got to have hope, right?" Sam told him, "it's important."
Dean shook his head, bewildered. "Hope...has never really been my...umm...my..." Dean stopped talking as he heard a loud buzzing come from nowhere.
"Dean?" Asked Sam, looking concerned.
The buzzing was starting to hurt Dean's head. "Jesus, what is that?" He asked, looking around.
"What's what?" Asked Sam, looking around too.
Dean stared at him. "That! That loud noise, can't you hear it?"
Sam shook his head, putting his book down and walking to Dean. His head was really starting to hurt, his forehead scrunched up in pain.
"Nurse!" Sam called immediately.
The Nurse was in the room and Dean was being lead out, obviously the Nurse didn't want Sam to follow but a part of him really wanted to, he wondered what it could be that was wrong with Dean. Whatever it was, it was bad, Sam could tell that much.
…
A few minutes later Dean was sat in the Doctors office, the Nurse had given him some strong painkillers for his headache but she hadn't explained what the hell had happened to him, maybe he was just going crazy.
Dean was sipping water, thankful that the buzzing in his head had finally subsided, when the Doctor entered the room.
He had a kindly smile on his face, normally Dean would have hated him for pitying him but Dean didn't mind. He worked on this ward, so he'd obviously seen a lot of kids die, the fact that he still smiled was commendable.
"How are you feeling?" He asked as he sat down, and Dean finally got a chance to look at his name badge properly, yesterday he'd spent so long with his eyes on the ground he hadn't looked properly. Doctor Singer.
"Better," Dean admitted honestly, "my head doesn't hurt so much anymore."
"Headaches are a prime part of your condition," Doctor Singer reminded him.
Dean nodded, "yeah, I know. But going crazy isn't, right? That buzzing I heard, it was loud, really loud. But Sam couldn't hear a thing!" Dean shook his head. "He probably thinks I'm insane."
Doctor Singer shook his head. "I very much doubt Sam will judge you, Dean. He's a very sympathetic person."
"Yeah, I'm starting to see that." Dean admitted.
"He will be a good friend to you, I'm sure. But what just happened, that is called Tinnitus."
"Tinnitus?" Dean repeated, rolling the unfamiliar word over his tongue.
Doctor Singer nodded, "it's a constant buzzing or tone that only you can hear. I wasn't sure if it was a part of your particular condition, but apparently it is."
"Wait," began Dean, processing the information. "Constant? Do you mean this could come back and stay back?" He asked incredulously.
Doctor Singer sighed. "In some cases, yes. It's more common than you might think."
Dean hung his head in his hands, Doctor Singer looked over him sadly. Dean was a strong young lad, he could tell that much, and he could see that he loved his little Brother more than anything.
He'd seen it many times over, it was always decent people that got this level of bad luck, and kids too. Like Sam, he was just a kid and didn't deserve what had happened to him, but he was always smiling, always a ray of sunshine. Doctor Singer hoped he would be a good influence on Dean.
"Is this what it's going to be like?" Dean asked finally, looking up. "Things are just gonna get worse and worse until I can't talk or hear or walk, and then I just die?"
"You don't know that, Dean." Doctor Singer reminded him. "There is a chance your tumour will be operable, all we need is a bit of luck."
"Well," began Dean, "judging by the evidence, I don't have much of that."
…
Sam stood up immediately as soon as Dean walked back into the room, Doctor Singer wasn't with him and he had his hands stuffed into his pockets.
"Are you all right?" Asked Sam.
Dean shrugged. "Fine."
"What was wrong?" Asked Sam, more concerned about Dean's safety than the fact that Dean didn't want to talk about it.
Dean perched on the end of Sam's bed and looked at him, he didn't look angry or embarrassed, he was just looking.
"Headache, that's all." He assured Sam, "just a bad headache."
"Oh." Began Sam, relieved but also a little confused. It hadn't seemed like a headache. He smiled nonetheless, despite everything, Dean had to admit that the kid had a great smile, cute dimples and all.
"I was worried, I'm glad everything's good."
Dean shook his head and chuckled slightly. "You know, that smile of yours is gonna do my head in, I can just tell."
Sam just smiled even wider.
Dean pushed himself up from the bed, breathing deeply. "Come on, lets go do something, I'm bored out of my face."
Sam raised his eyebrows in confusion. "You wanna do something...with me?"
Dean smiled, actually genuinely smiled and it nearly took Sam's breath away. He had to force himself not to think about kissing those lips, as far as he was aware, Dean was straight. Plus, even if he was, Sam doubted he'd be interested in dating a terminally ill teenager.
"Sammy, it looks like we're stuck with each other so we might as well get used to it." Dean grinned. "But, I have to warn you, I'll have no idea where I'm going."
And with that, Dean walked out of the ward.
Sam followed him, grinning. "Sammy?"
…
It was safe to say that Dean was a little grumpy after coming back from his tests the next day, but Dean assumed that if anyone else had things stuck into their spine they'd be a little pissed themselves.
When Dean got back to the ward, Sam wasn't there. He must have been off having his own tests or something. Dean sat crossed legged on his bed, looking across the room.
He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Sam before he got here. Just sat here all day.
Dean hopped off of his bed and crossed to Sam's, looking over the mussed sheets, he was a messy kid, Dean would give him that.
He looked at the book Sam had been immersed in ever since Dean had got here, his bookmark showed he was about a hundred pages from the end.
Dean dipped his hand down and picked it up.
The last stand by Carver Edlund.
Dean turned the book over and read the blurb, it was some supernatural thing, shrugging to himself, he opened the book, careful not to knock Sam's bookmark, and read the first page.
It took him 10 minutes to read the first two chapters before he unconsciously sank down onto Sam's bed.
By the time Sam got back to the ward, Dean had just finished chapter nine.
Sam smiled as he saw Dean sat there, engrossed in his favourite book.
"It's good, isn't it?"
Dean looked up, so shocked that he dropped the book into the bed.
"Oh, err...sorry." Began Dean, standing up. "I didn't mean too, erm..."
Sam crossed to his night stand and opened the draw, he picked out a bookmark identical to his in everything but colour. He picked the book off of the bed, opened to the page Dean had read to, and placed it in Dean's page.
Dean's eyes wavered for a moment. But Sam knew what he meant.
"What did the Doctors want?" Asked Dean, changing the subject.
"Blood test." Said Sam simply.
Dean nodded and turned back to his bed, and fell straight to the floor.
Sam bolted to Dean immediately and grabbed him as soon as he collided with the floor, hauling him to his feet.
Dean's focus was swimming before his eyes. Sam supported Dean against his body and took his face between his hands.
"Dean! Dean! Look at me...are you okay...!"
Dean pushed Sam away immediately, getting his focus back. "Dean!" Sam exclaimed, surprised at Dean's strength.
Sam moved forward to stop Dean from falling again.
"Dean...!"
"Sam, just stop it!" Dean shouted, and Sam stopped.
The pair were silent for a long moment, just staring at each other.
Dean rubbed his forehead. "Look, Sam...I've got a headache, I'm gonna, get some sleep."
Sam nodded, still staring. "Okay." He said.
Dean turned away and walked back to his bed, settling down under the covers and facing away from Sam. Even though he did have a headache, he knew Sam knew that's not what this was about.
It was a few moments later than Dean heard Sam get into his own bed. Dean sighed and closed his eyes, but the pain in his head only got worse.
It was stupid, it was pathetic, he knew that. It was pathetic that he was just stuck on this ward, waiting to die.
