I'm not dead! Sorry for the hiatus (though it wasn't that long, I don't think? Does three months count as a hiatus?). Alright, motherfuckers, here it is: the sequel. I usually don't post chapters unless I have the entire story done, but it's been so long since I posted anything that I decided to just go ahead. Updates will be slower than normal since I'm still writing, just letting you know right now. Also, I haven't learned anything about hospitals in the past three months, so let's just pretend that this is how hospitals actually work.
The ride to the hospital is tense and silent. Sam sits perfectly still in the passenger seat, his glowing green eyes the only indication that his wolf is howling and raging and itching to kill, maim, hunt; anything to get their mate back. Sam doesn't know how to tell it that the enemy isn't something they can fight.
Dean and John came into his room shortly after he woke up. They explained that it was only a few hours after the fight with Michael's pack, and that Gabriel is in the hospital. Sam regrets it now, but after hearing that he snapped and accused Dean of not protecting his mate, spouting some truly hurtful things that left even John speechless. He knows now that Gabriel's not injured from the fight, and though Dean waved off his apology flippantly, Sam can't help the guilt he feels when Dean locks eyes with him only to quickly look away.
They arrive at the hospital and pile out of the car, striding quickly towards the stairs. None of them have the patience for elevators right now, and thanks to their natural speed they reach the ICU faster than the elevator would have. Raphael is waiting for them outside the doors, responding in clipped, monosyllabic words to whatever the nurses at the desk are saying. He straightens when he sees John, Dean, and Sam coming towards him.
Sam was prepared for this, was told that Raphael was compelled by Michael to go through with the plan even though he fought against it, but he still growls when he sees the doctor. John elbows him in the side and Sam obediently quiets, but he doesn't stop glaring.
Gabriel's room is at the far end of the wing to give him privacy. Chuck, Castiel, and Mary are already there, and they all stand when the other Greys enter. Sam's eyes immediately zero in on his mate, lying, once again, in a hospital bed. But whereas the first time Sam saw him like this Gabriel was sitting up and still as loud and lively as ever, now he's still. Quiet.
His skin is a bit paler than normal and he looks way too small with wires poking out of his arms and connecting him to heart monitors and IVs and God knows what else. Sam darts over to the bed as soon as he steps foot into the room, sinking onto his knees on the floor.
"Oh, Gabriel," he says softly, his eyes wide and horrified as they run over his mate's face. He looks peaceful, at least, and Sam thanks every god he can think of that morphine works on Greys. Carefully, as if Gabriel will break under the slightest pressure, Sam brushes a stray lock of hair from his face. "What's wrong with him?" he asks the room in general.
Raphael answers, his tone brisk and detached, professional, even as his eyes tell a different story. "The human blood from the transfusion given to him at the other hospital is attacking his cells," he says. "The foreign cells view the Grey cells as a virus and are destroying them, which is killing him."
Sam sucks in a sharp breath and his hands clench into fists.
"I suspect that the phase he underwent in Michael's basement may have accelerated the process and awoken dormant Grey cells that are now being targeted," Raphael continues.
"How can we help him?" Mary asks. She sidles forward and nonchalantly places a hand on Sam's shoulder, but her fingers squeeze with surprising and reassuring strength. Sam leans into the touch gratefully, and her green eyes briefly flash a smile at him before returning to Raphael.
"I'm not sure," he says, his eyes off to the side of Mary's out of respect for her. "I know there is a cure, though. When I first started working here years ago, a Grey in exactly the same condition was brought into the hospital. She was cured and there should be records somewhere in the archives. It'll just be a matter of finding them."
"Get on that," John orders, and Raphael nods and tilts his head a bit before stopping himself, almost involuntarily. Sam's wolf perks up a bit at that, curious, but just as quickly sinks back into angry and crushing despair.
It'll be fine, he tells himself. He's a bit disappointed when there's no answer, but he doesn't know what else he was expecting. He can feel Gabriel's presence in his mind when he's asleep, but unconsciousness is an entirely different thing.
"What do we do in the meantime?" Dean asks in an unusually quiet voice. Castiel shoots him a sharp look, filled with surprise and… concern? Sam ignores this. His brother's strange relationship with their friend is not a priority right now.
"I can probably reserve you a waiting room since you probably won't want to leave the hospital much while he's here," Raphael says. "And I'll look for the cure, but until I find it…." He shrugs.
"How do we know that you will find it, or that you'll even want to?" Sam snaps, turning and standing in one swift move. "It's your pack's fault that he's like this in the first place!"
Raphael's eyes begin to glow amber and he bares his teeth, but his voice is the same calm tone from before as he answers.
"I am part of no pack," he says, tilting his head up with something akin to pride. "Lucifer may have been my Beta but Michael was never my Alpha. Yes, it was me who brought your mate to Michael, but it was against my will, and now I'm trying to fix the damage I did. If you can't trust Raphael who was Michael's third and then Beta, at least trust Raphael the lone wolf who just wants to atone for his mistakes."
He blinks and his eyes return to normal, and before Sam even has a chance to register the impeccable control the doctor has over his wolf, he's out the door, which closes with a resounding slam behind him.
