Dean stared blearily at the TV in the hospital waiting room. He was slouched against the corner of an uncomfortable vinyl sofa, one booted foot resting against the edge of the generic, pressed wood, coffee table, the other planted against the teal and beige linoleum squares covering the floor. After four hours of mindless sitting, he wasn't even sure what he was watching anymore. It appeared to be some sort of infomercial for knives that could cut through two by fours and cans. Although, why anyone would ever actually need to cut through a board with a kitchen knife was currently escaping his imagination.
After a few more moments of numb staring, he swiped the palm of his hand over his eyes and groaned. He didn't realize this sort of thing took so long. Of course his only references were TV shows and movies so wasn't surprising he didn't have a good grasp of the time frame.
After sliding the phone out of the pocket of his leather jacket, thrown over the back of the couch earlier, he tapped out a text message.
Any news yet?
A few moments pass.
Sam: Nothing yet. Dr said could still be awhile.
Dean sighs and taps back his response.
How's Jess holding up?
Sam: Resting now. Nurse gave her some meds.
Dean pushed the phone back in his pocket before standing up. Reaching his arms over head and muffles a groan as he stretches and causes his body to release a symphony of cracking joints. Jesus, he thinks, I'm getting old. Maybe it was just the situation. He was only thirty-two, but being at the hospital while Sam and Jess were bringing a baby into the world was making him feel ancient.
His Sammy was going to be a dad. His Sammy. The kid whose diapers he changed, helped to give him bottles, packed school lunches for. Dad did the best he could after mom had died but still, Dean had had to help out more than any normal kid would have. Oftentimes, he felt like he had been the one to raise Sam. No wonder he felt like an old man.
He grabbed the jacket off the edge of the couch and walked quietly down the hall. The lights were dim in the maternity ward. It was 11:30 at night and visiting hours were long past. Other than the occasional murmur behind closed doors and the beeping of a machine, the floor was surprisingly hushed. Jess and Sam's room was across from the nurses' station. After shooting a quick wink and grin at the nurse, Dean tapped softly on the door, gently nudging it open.
After peeking into the room to make sure he wasn't going to see anything he didn't want to see, he stepped into the room. Jess was curled up on one side in the hospital bed, one arm curled protectively over her enormous belly. A clear tube ran from where it was taped to the back of her hand, to a bag of liquid suspended over the head of the bed. A monitor next to the bed flashed green numbers across its screen sending a soft light over the dark corner of the room. Another monitor next to the bed was shooting squiggly lines across narrow graph paper. Sam had told Dean earlier it was monitoring the baby's activity. Jess's curly hair had been contained in a thick braid and lay across the pillow. Dean felt a surge of love and affection for this woman, Sam's other half. She looked amazingly peaceful considering a human being was trying to make its way out of her body.
Sam's huge frame was sprawled out in an armchair next to the bed. The chair looked like a cousin to the sofa in the waiting room. He looked like he had been dozing quietly until Dean had nudged the door open. Sam rubbed a hand across his eyes, causing the white hospital armband to slide down his wrist while he stood up. Then, he quietly edged his way around the hospital bed and across the room to where Dean waited in the doorway.
"Hey," Sam said quietly.
"Hey, I'm running down to get some coffee. You want anything?" Dean asked. He couldn't help the affection that crept into his voice. He also couldn't stop the grin that slid across his face as he looked at his big, dopey, nerd of a brother. It was unreal. By this time tomorrow, Sam would be a daddy.
"Sure man, coffee would be great." Sam answers.
Dean hesitated a moment, looking back at Jess. "Is it normal to take this long?"
Sam muffled a laugh with his hand before answering. "It can take days Dean. The doctor said Jess is doing great. Baby is doing great. We just have to wait."
Dean grinned at his brother before backing out of the room, he is totally against chick flick moments but he has a feeling this whole experience is going to be an exception. He can't help adding softly before closing the door, "Look at you Sammy, all grown up."
Sam just smiled softly as he gazed at Jess in a way that made Dean's chest hurt.
Dean rode the slowest elevator in the universe down to the basement where the cafeteria was housed. Since it was late, and past normal dining hours, the cafeteria appeared to operate on a sort of honor system. Only a few prepackaged sandwiches, salads and cartons of yogurt were sitting in a glass fronted cooler. There was a soda fountain and a coffee machine sitting on the nearby counter.
After grabbing a yogurt for Sam and a ham and cheese sandwich for himself, Dean filled two paper cups with thick black coffee. He shoved a few bills into the slot of the cash box and started as he heard a phone ring nearby. Dean hadn't noticed he wasn't alone. Turning, he noticed a guy sitting off in the corner by himself.
The guy was staring into a paper cup of coffee with a bleak look on his face. He wore a suit, with his blue tie pulled loose and askew around his neck. His dark hair was rumpled and stood up at crazy angles around his head as if he had been absently pulling his fingers through it for hours. He had a dark shadow of stubble darkening his jaw. If he hadn't looked so lost and alone, Dean would have thought he looked deliciously rumpled.
Dean quietly turned back to the coffee, stirring in cream and sugar, before the silence was interrupted by a ringing cell phone.
"Yes, Gabriel." Dean overheard and the guy answered his phone. Shit, he thought, as he heard the deep rumble of the stranger's voice. That voice coming out of that body was unexpected.
A moment passes before Dean hears the man speak into the phone again, "I'm in the basement."
Another moment, before, "Tell Michael I'll be up in a few minutes. Has Luke's flight landed yet?" Then a noncommittal noise before, "I'm on my way now."
From the corner of his eye, Dean can see as the man throws his coffee cup into the trash after standing wearily before walking down the hall.
Dean finds himself following the guy in the suit toward the bank of elevators down the hall, while trying to balance the yogurt, sandwich and two overly full cups of coffee.