A/N I'm thinking of writing an ongoing megstiel fanfic, but I had this little drabble in my mind and decided to write a one shot before I commit to writing a full on story. This takes place while Cas is at the hospital. Its angsty/fluffy (if that makes any sense) and so, yeah. I hope you like it. Comments are much appreciated.

The smell of antiseptic was so heavy in the air, it gave her a headache. She absolutely hated hospitals. And she hated the scrubs with a burning passion.

While she was dwelling on everything that she hated about this place, a young blonde nurse came and tapped her on the shoulder.

"What do you want, can't you see I'm busy?" She snapped. Honestly the humans here were so needy. They couldn't seem to leave her alone for more than a second. And she wasn't even a real nurse. She was here for one reason, and one reason only. To nurse him back to health. To make sure that he was completely okay, and well taken care of.

The nurses green eyes widened a bit. "Uh. Nurse? Your needed in room 103. The patient is having another...episode. No one can calm him down. The Doctor said to call you in." She took a deep breath.

"Before we put him on something, Doc said to let you have a minute with him."

Meg's face paled a bit. Another episode? She pushed the other nurse out of the way and sprinted to his room.

"Everyone out." She ordered. The Doctor sent her a warning glance, but he didn't dare say anything to her. She was the only one who knew how to handle this patient, and he wasn't going to upset her.

"You heard the nurse." He said, motioning towards the door. "Lets move."

Within seconds the door was shut behind them, and they were alone.

She sat on the edge of his bed, reaching up to take his hand.

"Whats'a matter Clarence?" She teased, absentmindedly running her fingers over his knuckles.

"I. I can't." His eyes were squeezed shut, sweat forming on his forehead. His other hand he was pressing to his chest. "I feel this...pressure in my chest. I can barely breathe... I can't. Think straight."

"Shh." Meg said, moving closer to him and stroking his cheek. "You're having a panic attack. Look at me."

"In my eyes." She added. His deep blue eyes stared into hers, his forehead wrinkling like it was a strenuous effort.

"Just...breathe Clarence, breathe."

He took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes. She sat there with him a while, until he opened his eyes.

"It's better." He said. "For now. Meg I don't know what to do I-"

"Hey." she cut him off, pressing a finger to her lips. "Don't think about it, alright?"

He nodded and settled back onto his pillow, closing his eyes.

"Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"You look like an angel."

He opened one eye and smiled at her. She winked. Knowing that she could make him smile, did something to her. She felt accomplished. Like she could do anything.

She leaned over and pressed a kiss on his forehead. "'l'll be back in a bit. Don't go psycho again without me."

~()~

Three hours and four cups of disgusting hospital coffee later...

Meg walked past Cas' room. She paused and listened. It sounded like there was a literal bull in a china shop. Pounding, yelling, smashing of glass. She rushed in closing the door behind her.

"Cas what are you doing?" She looked at him, a complete mess. He'd ripped out his iv and was crumpled on the floor, surrounded by broken glass.

She rushed to his side, helping him up off the ground.

"Get back in bed. What's the matter with you? Are you trying to get sent to an asylum?"

She took his arm and guided him to the bed, tucking him under a clean blanket. She left the room and returned with a broom. When she swept up all the glass, she sat down next to him.

"Give me your hands." She said. He placed his large calloused hand in her small smooth one. She turned first one, than the other, over in her hands, looking for any glass shards.

"Luckily you didn't hurt yourself with the glass. Now let me fix your iv. Don't ever rip that out again, honestly I don't get you. Trying to keep me on my toes?"

She tried to joke lightheartedly, but she was freaking out on the inside, barely able to keep it together. No one could know about his little episode.

She stood at his bedside, and ran her hand through his dark hair.

"Listen blue eyes," she said, leaning close to him. "Your good looks may get you out of scrapes with me, but they won't work on the doctors. So just try and act normal until we can bust out of this joint. Alright? Now, do you need anything?"

"Meg." He said, his voice quiet and gravelly. She raised an eyebrow.

"Lay with me?" He asked. His blue eyes wide and pleading. Her chest tightened. "If you insist."

She peeled the blanket down and scooted into the little bed with him, tucking them both into the white cloth of the hospital blanket. She lay on her side, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. Every time he started to tremble, a panic attack about to take hold, she would place her hand against the back of his neck and lean her forehead against his. "It's alright Clarence." She'd whisper. "Shh. I'm here hon. Don't worry." She'd mutter comforting nothings to him until he calmed down again.

The warmth of their bodies was soothing and comforting and soon his breathing slowed. She knew he was asleep, and she should probably get up, but she couldn't make herself.

The next time he woke up, he moved so that his face rested in the crook of her neck. "Thank you." He murmured, the coarse stubble on his chin brushing the sensitive skin of her neck. He was unsure if she was sleeping or not, but he didn't care.

"Thank you Meg." He repeated. And then softer, almost inaudibly he added, "I love you."