Part of this is vaguely based on this adorable tweet: /_DemonDean/status/520239156258013185
And yes, there's a Fall Out Boy lyric somewhere. Came up with this during work which was stressful 'cause I couldn't write it down immediately, but I managed! I hope you enjoy this, please let me know if you have any comments or suggestions or prompts :)
"Dean, I'm not going to participate in your unhealthy dinner preferences-"
Sam never got to finish his sentence, because at that moment Smoke On The Water started to play out of Dean's pocket. He shot his younger brother a smug grin, and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" Sam gave him his bitch-face, but Dean just laughed.
They were on a hunt in Kansas, not very far from the bunker, but far enough to take a motel rather than drive back and forth every day. The motel sucked, especially in comparison with their home, but after a lifetime of hunting, it was something you could get used to.
"Is- Is this Dean Winchester?" A male voice came through the speakers. Dean frowned, not recognizing it.
"Who is this?"
"It's- It's the Springview Hospital, Nebraska. Is this Dean Winchester? I'm looking for Dean Winchester."
Sam mouthed a "Who is it?" at Dean, but he put up his hand and walked slowly towards his motel bed, turning his back on Sam.
Dean sat down on the crappy mattress –he missed his memory foam- and continued his confusing call.
"Why are you calling?"
The young man on the other side of the line sounded nervous. "Um. We're looking for Dean Winchester."
Dean rolled his eyes, ready to interject, but then the man continued. "A friend of his came in here today. I had to call this number?" He sounded unsure, and Dean wondered if he was new at his job.
"Yeah, you got me. What friend?" Dean had gotten up again, and was now pacing around their small room. Sam was still trying to catch his attention, but he ignored him. No cheeseburgers, no information.
"Um. His ID card says 'Castiel Novak'?" The man coughed. "Um. Yeah. He was brought in today, and we found your number in his wallet."
Dean had frozen, the hand that was about to grab a beer floating in mid-air.
"Castie- Cas? Is- Is he okay?" He held his breath, biting his bottom lip nervously. Sam looked alarmed and opened his mouth to say something, but Dean raised his hand as if to stop him.
"Um. We- we don't know. Yet. He came in this afternoon, he's wounded pretty badly- frontal car accident. According to the driver- who's fine, by the way, he stood in the middle of the road- trying to pick up a hedgehog?"
Dean felt as if someone had squeezed all the air out of his lungs. He tried to gasp for breath, but he couldn't move. Sam was now standing in front of him, speaking softly, looking worried, but Dean didn't recognise any of it. It was as if the world had stopped spinning, and someone had sucked all the sound out of the room. The man on the other end of the phone continued, and his voice was the only thing that came through for Dean.
"Well, yeah. Middle of the road. So the driver didn't see him in time and hit him. Full force."
No. Cas. No. Dean felt like he was hit at full force too, and was now stuck in the momentum between cause and aftermath. His hands began to shake.
"Um- several broken bones. Oh, and it wasn't a hedgehog- it was a pinecone? I don't know. But. Um. Internal bleedings, fractured hip... Probably a concussion? We don't know yet, he hasn't woken up... Comatose, they say. "
Dean realised too late he had dropped the phone. Cas hadn't-
"Hello? Sir?"
He wasn't-
Dean fell to his knees, still unable to speak, unable to move. Cas.
"Yes. Hello. I'm sorry, my brother's- not feeling well."
Sam had picked up the phone.
"Yes. Um, Sam Winchester. Yeah, Cas' a very close family friend- what? I'm sorry sir, could you please repeat what you just told my brother?"
Dean was now breathing heavily, his eyes firmly closed, face pressing into the dirty motel room rug. Cas. This was Dean's fault. All his fault. Again.
"Cas. Come 'ere."
Dean's hands became fists, trying to find something to hold onto, but finding nothing but ragged fabric.
"Okay. Yes, I understand."
Sam was pacing their motel room, roughly putting clothes and paperwork in their duffel bags with one hand, holding the phone with the other.
"We'll be on our way. Please let us know if anything happens. Yes. Okay. Thank you. Bye."
Sam hung up and kneeled at Dean's side, who was still lying in the floor, breathing heavily, nostrils flared, eyes shut closed.
"Dean. Get up. We're leaving. We're going to Cas, Dean."
Dean looked up, his expression blank. Sam tried not to show it, but the truth was- his brother was scaring him. Of course, he was shocked by the news too, but they needed to move now. Cas needed them.
"Dean. We can be there by midnight. Come on."
Sam gently put his hand on Dean's shoulder, pulling him up, and the physical touch seemed to reach Dean. He got up, his whole body shaking violently, and tried to grab the Impala keys from the table. Sam snatched them away.
"No way. You're not driving like this." Dean just stared at him, same expressionless look on his face.
"Okay." Sam swallowed and picked up their bags. "Let's go."
