Castiel shook his hands, trying to air them out. His palms were sweaty, his breath shaky, anxiety on his mind. His leg bounced up and down, up and down. Repeatedly, faster than the tick of the emergency waiting room clock. Sweat beaded on the plane of his forehead, slowly dripping down the side of his face. People were walking through the waiting room back and forth, in regular speed that seemed way too fast for Castiel. He looked at his clock. It's been 30 minutes already.
Castiel got up, wiping his palms against his trench coat. He came here immediately from work, as soon as he got the call. He tried not speeding, he tried to avoid the same mistake Claire had made, but he couldn't hold himself back from temptation. He knew it was wrong to speed, but he had to see her.
Castiel walked up to the nurse's desk.
"Uh, hello?" he called timidly.
A sun-kissed, beautiful, god-looking man looked up from his work. His smile was instantaneous. It took all of Castiel's self control not to flirt. This was an emergency.
"Hey there, what can I do for you?" the nurse smiled through his teeth.
Castiel's heart began beating even faster than it was before— if that was even possible. Soon he was going to be the one to be checked in to the hospital.
"Uh, my daughter, Claire Novak, she came in here about an hour ago. I got here half an hour ago and I…" Castiel was losing his nerve. He was depleted, after a long day at work and an adrenaline filled night with no information to soothe his soul.
The nurse looked at him sympathetically.
"One second." he said, and then walked away, behind the desk and into the hospital which was off limits.
Castiel stood there, shocked, not sure what just happened. Was he just dismissed by an emergency personnel? He began filling with rage, and began to wish bad things on the gorgeous nurse…
Who just walked out of the main door, into the emergency room. Without another word, he grabbed his hand and led him through the doors.
Castiel began to heave quietly. The stress of the day, the swinging moods, it was all too much for him. He just wanted to see his daughter.
They continued walking and Castiel noticed he was still holding the nurse's hand. Logic told him that he should let go, that he should be more appropriate, but something else was telling him to hold on for dear life.
Castiel turned the corner and all of the breath that was left in his body was sucked out momentarily. He felt as if he was punched in the stomach by the Hulk.
Lying there, on the hospital bed, was his daughter, his Claire, with her eyes closed, surrounded by machines.
"Oh god, is she…?" Castiel began to ask.
The nurse let go of his hand and put it on Castiel's shoulder.
"No. Almost was, but the doctor here was really good. Saved her." the nurse added.
Castiel was relieved. Despite his body wanting to stay under the touch of the nurse, he walked up to Claire and laid a hand on her face.
She was so angelic. She was all bloody. She was pure, and raw, and his. All his.
Being a single father was hard.
He looked at the nurse.
"What do I need to do?" he asked.
The nurse said nothing for a moment.
"She needs a new heart," he solemnly stated.
Castiel began to heave again, this time loudly. He tried not to wake Claire up— even though he didn't know if she could wake up— and shoved a fist in his mouth.
The nurse picked Castiel up and walked him outside the room, outside the hospital, in the quiet garden where the only sound was their heartbeats, sprinklers, and Castiel's sobs.
"Don't worry, though. They found a donor." the nurse said.
Castiel was so relieved. He hugged the nurse. He instantly regretted his decision, because all he could smell was muskiness and lemon.
He reluctantly let go and looked into the nurse's eyes.
"What's your name?" Castiel asked.
"Dean", the nurse answered.
"Are you an angel?" Castiel wondered again.
Dean chuckled, the sparkles in his eyes fading out.
"Maybe soon I will be." Dean answered.
Dean started to walk away. Castiel reached out for his arm.
"Don't go" Castiel whispered.
"I have to," responded Dean, "she needs to be operated on."
Castiel immediately agreed, snapping back to reality.
"Oh, right, of course. You need to help with the operation," Castiel remembered.
He followed Dean, his guardian angel, back into Claire's room. He saw Claire being wheeled out, said goodbye to his baby. He then looked to Dean. Dean looked at him.
"Goodbye," said Dean, as he walked into the operating room.
Castiel waited for what seemed like decades. Stars were born and died in the time that it took for Claire to return. And when she did, she was wheeled out by a friendly looking nurse.
"Hi, I'm Meg, and I wanted to let you know that the operation was a great success. The donor matched her perfectly." she glowed.
Castiel was relieved. He kissed the top of Claire's head— she smelled of strawberries and dreams to be realized.
She held up a card to give to Castiel.
"What's this?" he asked.
"It's my donor's information, so we can pay respects to his family," Claire whispered.
Castiel's hands reluctantly opened the card, and read aloud: "Age: 34, Hair: Blonde, Eyes: Green, Name—" and Castiel froze.
Claire nudged him.
Castiel began again. "Name: Dean Winchester".