Chapter 2
"Dean. Are you awake?" The first words Dean heard the next morning were spoken in a gravelly voice, instant recognition sparking in his mind. He opened his eyes, only to see Cas standing over him, shirtless and clutching his stomach, his face twisted with pain. "It hurts, Dean. What do I do?" Cas asked, looking like he was in complete agony. Dean sat up immediately, pulling Cas's hands gently away from his stomach with increasing concern. As far as he could see, nothing was wrong, but when he ever-so-lightly touched the torn skin, Cas jerked back and nearly howled in pain. Dean cursed under his breath and beckoned Cas closer again, examining the skin more closely. The cuts looked inflamed and irritated, and Dean had no idea why or how to fix the problem.
His mind was reeling, trying to think of some way that they could help him. Angels were out of the question, seeing as they'd probably just try to kill him again. Obviously no demon would be volunteering to help an angel. Bobby might know what to do... If he wasn't dead. Reluctantly, Dean admitted to himself that there was nothing he could do except get Cas to see a regular, human doctor, one that could give him antibiotics and pain medication.
"I'm sorry Cas, but I think we're gonna have to take you to a hospital. These look really bad, and there's not really anything I can do, so as sucky as it sounds, we should really take you to a professional," Dean concluded after his thorough examination of Cas's torso. The three of them loaded their things into the Impala and drove the thirty miles to the nearest hospital, which took them a while to find, since they were stationed in a tiny town in New Hampshire, right on the coast. None of them said a word as they drove, Sam and Dean looking straight ahead at the road and Cas staring out the window at the passing wilderness. The trees flew by, turning into a bright green blur. Now that he didn't have his angel duties to worry about, he was actually quite enjoying the human world, the parts of it that were covered in beautiful forests, lakes, and mountains, at least.
When they arrived at the hospital, Cas was checked in and told to put on a hospital gown. When he emerged from the bathroom in his gown, Sam and Dean both cracked up, the sight of the always serious angel dressed in a light blue, girly dress thing clearly being too much for their minds to handle. Cas glared daggers at the two of them and walked past them, going to sit gingerly on his bed and eventually lie down. As soon as they saw him begin his painful struggle to lie down, they became deadly serious and rushed to help him, Sam's moose-like strength proving to be helpful.
"Dude, you gotta lay off the heaven buffets," Dean joked, out of breath, "Or whatever it is they feed you up there..." Cas looked at him with his trademark confused look, his brow furrowed and his head tilted to the side.
"Angels don't eat, Dean," Cas pointed out matter-of-factly, and Dean began to try to explain the joke, but then decided it was too much effort and just rolled his eyes. Cas, being the awkwardly curious angel that he was, started playing with the remote for his bed, pushing buttons and widening his eyes in surprise when the bed moved. Sam and Dean sat next to him, watching him with amused looks on their faces. When he had finally figured out how to lay down with his back propped up, Cas nodded, smiling, seemingly very proud of himself. A few minutes later, the doctor came in holding his chart.
"Can you describe to me exactly what happened, Mr... Lars Ulrich?" the doctor asked, looking slightly confused at the name. Dean smiled to himself at the joke. Cas looked a bit like a deer caught in headlights, so Sam spoke up, deciding to save him the trouble.
"He was attacked by an animal in the woods, sir. He was on a camping trip, and at night, he was jumped and torn apart, before his buddies could scare it off. Eventually one of them managed to shoot at it and it ran away, but at this point, nobody knows what the creature even was," Sam improvised. The doctor nodded, made a little note on the chart, and walked over to Cas, looking at the wounds.
"And may I ask who did these previous stitches?" the doctor inquired. Sam and Cas both looked at Dean, who had no idea what to say. Cas saved him though, thinking on his feet.
"A friend of mine did them—he's a doctor in training, and he stitched me up before we came here." The doctor nodded and made another note, taking one more thorough look at the damage before straightening up and placing the chart on the footboard.
"It seems as though your friend did a mighty fine job with the stitches. However, there must have been something on the claws of the animal that tore you up, because there's an infection in the deepest part of the wounds, something that not even a disinfectant would have helped at the time. We're going to give you some antibiotics, but if your body is unresponsive to them, we may have to do surgery to get rid of the diseased flesh," the doctor concluded, and walked out. Dean took a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes with his hands.
"Are you gonna be okay, Cas?" Sam asked softly. Cas was staring at his lap, not saying anything. Dean looked at Sam and gestured for him to leave, mouthing "thank you" when the moose-man got up and made some excuse about needing something. Dean got up and sat next to Cas on the bed, not really knowing how to comfort him. Finally, he put his hand on the angel's shoulder, at which point he looked up, right into Dean's eyes.
"Cas... I'm sorry. I promise you, you're gonna be fine. We're gonna clean you up, that nice doctor is gonna sew you up correctly, and we'll be out of here in... Five days, max." When Castiel gave no response aside from a deep sigh and a nod, Dean continued. "After we get you fixed up, we're gonna find out how to get those powers of yours back, and then you can get rid of whatever scars they left you with, and then after all that, we're gonna find the guy that did this to you, and we're gonna gank him like the monster he is. Does that sound like a good enough plan?" Dean asked, getting a little worked up. Cas stared at him, seemingly drowning in the planets of green that were Dean's irises.
Suddenly, without warning, Cas grabbed Dean by the back of the head and pulled him in, connecting their lips. Dean's eyes widened, and his lips froze, not moving. Even without his powers, Cas was strong, and Dean had to struggle quite a bit before getting away. When he did manage to get away, he pulled himself away and off of the bed, his eyes wide and scared. Cas had the most hurt look on his face that anyone had ever seen, and Dean couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy, even though he had just been attacked by him. Sam walked into the room at that moment, and upon seeing the two men stare at each other unblinkingly with two very different expressions, he dragged Dean out of the room and into the hallway.
"What the hell did you do?" Sam hissed furiously. Dean stared back at him with wide eyes, not even knowing what to say. He was so shocked by what had just happened, and his brain didn't know how to comprehend the situation, let alone tell someone about it. He looked towards Cas, who was looking down at his lap angrily. His heart twinged in sympathy for the powerless angel, and he turned back to Sam, not trusting himself not to run in there and comfort the poor bastard. Sam was still looking at him expectantly, his eyebrows raised and his hands on his hips like the sassy bitch he was.
"Okay, umm..." Dean began awkwardly, rubbing his face roughly before continuing, "He, uh... He kissed me, okay? I didn't do anything to him, I just pushed him away. Sam... I don't know what to do," he pleaded, his deep eyes clearly seeking help from the taller brother, "I don't feel that way about him, Sammy, but I can't bear to see him so hurt." Sam looked over at Cas, sighing. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to figure out how to help Dean.
"I'll talk to him. But I don't think you should be in the room with us..." Sam suggested, shaking his head as he said the last part. Dean nodded, whispering his thanks before turning around and walking the other way, trying to find a bathroom somewhere. After a few minutes of wandering the halls, he found the men's room, and smiled in a manner that might have looked grim and painful to someone else before pushing the door open. The spacious room was empty as far as Dean could tell.
"Even better," he said under his breath. He stood in front of the sinks, watching his reflection silently stare back at him in the wall-length mirror. He squeezed his eyes shut, hating the sight of himself, but the image of Cas's teary-eyed, hurt face was burned into the back of his eyelids, which, if possible, was worse. Dean opened his eyes and sighed, splashing ice cold water on his face and shaking his head to try and clear his mind. Unsurprisingly, it didn't help. He put his hands on the edge of the countertop and hung his head, eyes closed, trying to think.
A few minutes later, he heard the door open and looked up to see Sam walking towards him with his trademark puppy-dog eyed look. Dean recognized it immediately. "Dude, no. Whatever it is he wants from me, no. You know I don't feel the same way, there's nothing I can do to change that!" Dean argued before Sam could even say anything. Sam crossed his arms, sighing.
"Dean, you have to talk to him. All he wants is to talk to you. He won't tell me what he wants to say, but don't you at least owe him this?" Sam reasoned, and Dean scowled, knowing the taller man was right. Dean agreed reluctantly, and pushed past Sam to get out the door. Just before he reached the handle to open it, he heard Sam calling his name. "Don't hurt him, Dean. He's been hurt enough, you don't need to be rude or anything. Promise me you'll be nice," Sam said, and Dean nodded with a determined look on his face.
"Don't worry, Sammy. I'll take care of him" With that, Dean walked out the door, and Sam sighed, not knowing what to expect from Dean. He followed suit a minute later, finding his way back to the room in which Cas was staying. Dean was sitting in a chair next to the bed, talking to Cas in a soft voice, his face sympathetic and his eyes understanding. Sam stood outside the door, too far away to hear anything. When Dean saw him, he gave a little smile and went back to listening intently to what Cas had to say.
"I should have known better, Dean. I know you prefer women, and honestly, I don't know what came over me," Cas protested, to which Dean responded with a small smile.
"Cas, it's fine. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. You're our little fallen angel, and I'll take care of you no matter what the situation. You are and will always be my best friend, and I'm not going to let something like this come between us." Cas's eyes teared up again, although happily this time. Dean didn't hate him for having feelings that he had spent years and years trying to hide, and that was the best he could ask for. Sam cleared his throat in the doorway, smiling.
"You two good?" he asked, to which Dean nodded.
"Hey, anybody want me to make a coffee run? I don't know about you guys, but I haven't had any caffeine or food this morning, and you know how I get when I'm hungry and tired! I heard there was a Starbucks a few blocks away, I could go pick up some things," Dean offered, smiling. Cas tilted his head, his eyes narrowed.
"I've never had coffee..." he said in his low voice, and Sam chuckled.
"I'd probably get him something kind of sweet and creamy. And I'll have a large black coffee and whatever kind of muffin you think I'd like," Sam told Dean, who nodded.
"Cas, you want anything to eat? I know you're an angel and all, but without your mojo, do you need to eat?" Dean asked, and Cas thought about it.
"I don't know if I need nourishment to survive, but I don't see why I can't try human food while I'm stuck like this." Dean nodded again and got up, checking his pockets for his wallet and keys. When he was satisfied, he walked out of the room, leaving the hospital. He got into the Impala and started her up, savoring the time in which he could blast all the Metallica he wanted without Sam bitching about it. He drove off, the windows down, enjoying the nice day. He started thinking about the conversation that he had just had with Cas, reliving the event in his head as he did frequently with things that happened.
"'Don't you worry your pretty little head'? What in the name of hell was I thinking?" He thought, shaking his head in embarrassment. Not wanting to think about Cas anymore, he turned up the music, drumming on the steering wheel, singing along loudly.
When Dean got back to the hospital, he delivered the food and coffee to their respective people, and he was currently amusedly watching Cas take his first sip of a Cappuccino. His expression first showed a confused disgust, but it slowly changed to pleasure as he tasted the creamy, chocolatey goodness that was mixed in with the bitter coffee. He took another large sip, coughing and spluttering when it burned his mouth. He looked at Dean with wide eyes, and Dean looked back with one eyebrow raised.
"Don't you know not to take large gulps of hot things?" he asked, finding the whole situation hilarious. Cas glared at him.
"Just... Give me a napkin, would you? I seem to have spit this stuff all over myself," Cas muttered, looking down at himself. Sam passed him a napkin, and Cas took it gratefully, wiping up the sticky mess with a sigh. When he was finished, he dug into the apple-filled croissant that Dean brought back for him, the coffee sitting abandoned on the table next to the bed. After one bite, his eyes widened, and he took another huge bite, having completely forgotten to be wary about hot food. Luckily, the croissant had cooled down quite a bit, and was just slightly warm, instead of scalding, like the coffee had been.
When the trio was finished with their meal, Sam took the remaining garbage on a mission to find a larger trashcan, since the one in Cas's hospital room was far too tiny. While he was gone, the doctor came in again and checked on Cas's stitches as well as the IV drip, giving him more antibiotics to take via IV.
"So far, the antibiotics seem to be working, but I'll be back in about an hour to check on your progress, Mr. Ulrich," the doctor stated, and left the room. Dean shrugged when Cas looked at him, expecting him to say something.
"What can I say? The man's very matter-of-fact. There's not much to say about that, except for the fact that this means you'll probably be out of here pretty soon," Dean assured the concerned angel. There wasn't anything else to say, and they both sat there a bit awkwardly, until Dean thought of something to say. He made some joke that Cas didn't really understand, but he laughed anyway, pretending to find it funny. When Sam returned, they filled him in on what the doctor had said, and the three of them sat in the room together for the rest of the day, talking, joking, and generally making the most of the day inside.
When it came time for the boys to sleep, Dean convinced Sam to go back to the motel and get a good night's sleep, whilst Dean himself stayed in the hospital, refusing to leave Cas's side. He fell asleep in the armchair that was next to the bed after having stayed up with Cas, talking for hours about anything that they could think about. Cas didn't know he would need sleep, but after having learned as much as he did from Dean that night (Dean had spent hours trying to educate the angel on pop culture, so that he would understand more of the references he made), as well as the added effect of some sort of drug from the doctors, he fell into a light, dreamless sleep, a smile on his face.
