It was like any other day at the hospital, except it wasn't. It started out that way, but Dean Winchester didn't know things were about to change for him. He wasn't the kind of guy who got into these kinds of situations, was what he kept telling himself, but no matter how much he tried to nail the point home, it didn't matter. Today was the day.

The second Dean saw him, it felt like the air had been sucked out of him. Male, thirties, dark hair with a scruffy face and a gaping bullet hole, blood soaking through the shoulder of his right sleeve, staining the powder blue of his police uniform. He was sweating, eyes closed, but conscious, looking strangely peaceful for a man who'd just been shot. Time froze for a minute, then sped back to normal speed after the gurney turned the corner and left Dean's sight. He let out a breath he felt he'd been holding for far too long, and went back to work.

Dean thought about the cop all day. There was something intriguing about him that he couldn't put his finger on. He was strange, and that was saying something. As a nurse, Dean had seen all kinds of crap, but never something like this. Injuries, gunshots, policemen, good looking guys, sure, but there was something different here. Dean was determined to figure it out and set his heart on being this dude's nurse - he had to bribe a couple of his coworkers but he managed to work it out. So what if he owed some homely girl a date, or that dick doctor a six pack of beer? Not a big deal. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to see the guy until tomorrow, but he did glance into the room every chance he got when walking by to check on other patients. The door was always closed, and the one time it wasn't, he barely got a glimpse before the door shut right in his face. So Dean gave in, did his job, and waited until tomorrow came.

Dean made sure to get up nice and early. He wasn't going to be late, no matter how much he liked sleeping in, and normally he wasn't a morning person, but he could make an exception. He got ready in record time, extra thorough with his morning routine, though he wound up spending extra time on his hair. There was this one tuft of hair in the back that would never lay right no matter how much he fucked with it, sticking out and mocking him. He was not going to look stupid today, no way. It took him fifteen minutes, but he got it. He kicked his baby, his inherited trusty '67 Impala into high gear and sped off to work.

Twenty minutes later, Dean shuffled into the patient's room wearing his favorite blue scrubs and a big grin. He'd checked the patient's file before stepping in. His name was Castiel St. James, aged thirty-four, born 1974. He was a police officer and a Marine Corps vet, blood type AB+. Injured on the job, one bullet wound to the shoulder and some faint bruising on his chest and face. Dean wondered what the other guy looked like, wondered if Cas caught whatever criminal he was chasing. He licked his lips, checking out the light bruises above his eye. At least they didn't fuck up his face... not that Dean was gay, but he could appreciate an attractive looking guy. He wasn't wearing his police blues anymore, but instead a white hospital gown with a small, light blue diamond pattern adorning it. He was dozing lightly in his bed, the white sheets pulled up over his lap, his hands over the blankets, by his sides. Dean could already see he'd bled through his bandages, but Cas didn't seem to notice. Dean took a second to notice Cas was pretty buff. Had to be, being a cop... just probably didn't eat a lot of doughnuts. The curve of his muscle was firm, his skin a little tan. Dean's eyes traveled back up to his handsome face, examining his stubbled jaw and pink lips.

Fuck, he was spacing. He cleared his throat and moved to the edge of the bed.

"Hey, uh, rise and shine, Five-O." Dean wheeled the medical cart closer, leaning over the bed. He was answered with a soft grunt and a pair of ridiculously bright blue eyes.

"Hello."

His voice sounded like gravel, deep and steady. Dean felt his stomach plummet and looked right up into the stranger's eyes. His mouth felt dry, so he licked his lips. The gaze was electric, he felt like this guy could see straight through to his soul. For a second he forgot how to speak, but then he laughed softly, low in his chest, strangely bashful. This wasn't like him, but damn was this guy weird. "I'm your nurse for today. Name's Dean. Just gotta slap a new band-aid on your boo-boos, here. How're you feelin'?"

"I am.. fine. Hello, Dean." Damn, that voice again. Was this guy serious? Nobody talked like that.

"Dude, you just got shot. Scale of one to ten, how's it going?" Dean gingerly peeled back the bandages, concerned with Cas' pain. Cas only shook his head, but his eyes never left Dean's face. He looked mesmerized, okay, weird. Dean peeked over at the morphine drip. Had to be high. Nobody was this dreamy.

"No, I've been through much worse. I have a high tolerance for pain."

"Okey dokey, if you say so. Big tough guy, huh?" Dean teased. He expected Cas to wince as he cleaned away some of the blood with a moist towelette. Not even a flinch.

"I suppose it's a requirement, being an officer of the law." Cas' eyes were boring a fucking hole into Dean's face.

"You talk funny," was all Dean could sputter. He cleaned off the last of the dry blood. The bleeding must have happened overnight.

"Mm."

And then nothing but awkward silence.

Great. Dean busied himself, trying to figure out how to resuscitate the conversation before he had to go. "You need anything?" he asked.

"Yes... when is breakfast?"

"Ah, bout an hour. Somebody'll swing by and bring you something."

"When will you come back?" Cas' eyes were crazy blue. Dean looked up as he taped the gauze in place over his stitches, surprised.

"Me? You got the button on your bed, you need anything, just hit me up."

Cas looked relieved. His eyes softened, and he visibly relaxed. "Thank you."

"No problemo. Any more questions?"

"Just.. thank you." He sounded so fucking sincere. Dean shot him a big grin, straightening up real tall, feeling like a goddamn hero. Moments like this were the reason why he had become a nurse in the first place.

"Just doin' my job. See you soon, get some more sleep, because I can tell you there's nothin' good on TV until at least ten o'clock, unless you like the news."

"Yes."

Okay, sudden abrupt silence again. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from those soulsuckers and headed for the door.

"...Yeah. Seeya.."

"Goodbye, Dean."

"For now."

Okay. That was weird. Dean shut the door behind himself, and headed to check on his next patient. Definitely weird.