Title: I need a doctor

Rating: T

Pairing: Future Destiel.

Co-written with: seven percent solution. Written on another site. If he has a fanfiction, I shall link you guys to the account. THIS IS WRITTEN BY TWO PEOPLE loves. Don't give me all the credit please. : )

Seven Percent is Castiel.

I play write for Dean.

A/N:

I'm going to start making it a point to get back to you guys individual when I have some time. Cause I seriously would love to get to know my readers. :heart:

It's honestly only your support that has me posting stuff up here for your guys! I love reading fanfiction myself, so it's always awesome finding new stuff.

Also, thank you for the feedback. For you guys, I'm giving you another update cause you asked so nicely. Don't know when another one will happen yet. I need to get writing but I need some fuel and inspiration from ya guys! Short chappy compared to the last one.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own supernatural. That's all kripke. Just playing in his sandbox. ALSO. Most of Dean's inner dialogue during his dream is taken from season 3. ep 10.

C H A P T E R - TWO

CASTIEL NOVAK

"The Angel of Thursday. Your father a priest or something?"

Upon hearing this, Castiel couldn't help but let his eyebrows rise in surprise. Most people seemed to give a habitual nod once he introduced himself because of this unique name. It was very rare when people actually knew the meaning of it. "Yes, actually. A Minister." At least, he was the last time he saw him. Castiel's father had never been very prominent in his life. When the doctor was younger, he significantly remembers not having him around very much. He was always busy with other things inside of the community. Apparently that was more important to him than his biological family. And now, it had been several years since Castiel has heard from the man. He used to spend a great deal of time searching for him, but eventually he had just given up. There was absolutely no progress, and if his father did actually want to find Castiel, he could have by now. That much was obvious. "Not many people know the meaning of the name." He spoke again, pulling himself out of his thoughts. This was an old issue, but whenever it was dwelled upon, Castiel couldn't help his emotions.

Normally, the doctor wouldn't be one to pry into the lives of his patients. He enjoyed having a mutual trusting and understanding atmosphere, but upon listening to Dean's phone call, he couldn't help but be interested. It definitely wasn't a conversation you would hear every day. Frowning, Castiel cocked his head to the side and stared at the other. A matter of life and death? He observed the others' body language, how he tried so hard to be strong and convincing on the line (it looked like it was working), and the inevitable rush of fear afterwards. "Do you need to call the police?" That would be his best bet. Yes, this may be Dean's line of work, but he was in absolutely no state to be let out of the hospital yet. His injuries were far too severe to have the man running around, and his job could even be at stake for letting a patient out so early. Especially a patient that had only been there overnight.

The brunette immediately jumped forwards as Dean groped for support against the wall. It was bad enough that the man was even out of bed, he couldn't afford to have him falling over now. So for the second time, Castiel outstretched his hands and put them on either of the man's shoulders to steady him. "I will provide you with the necessary medication at required intervals. Now," He took a step backwards, pulling the taller man along with him and then gently steering him back to the hospital bed. "You need further resting. I'm not going to lose my job by letting a patient leave while they still need care."

Of course, Castiel knew that if he let Dean leave right now, nothing drastic would happen to him. He could already tell that Dean was a strong man, and apparently used to these kinds of injuries. He had been handling the pain a lot better than most people would have. The fact that he was even awake already was starting enough.

But then again, if things were as serious as the man made them out to be, anyone would be in a rush to save someone in danger, especially if that person was close to them. Unable to hold it in, Castiel let out a sigh and continued to stare at the other man. Other than the physical pain, there had been no other prevalent symptoms of his concussion so far, so that was a good sign. Perhaps he could even pull a few strings for the man to get him out earlier than scheduled, but not yet. It was too soon.

The only way that Dean would be getting out of Castiel's care would be if he somehow managed to escape. But then Castiel would feel guilty and end up being the one going after the rogue patient. If anything happened to the man because of his injuries, he would never forgive himself. A large part of being a doctor was not to blame yourself when things took a turn for the worse, but this is a completely different circumstance. This could easily be prevented, not like a man on the operating table who had a heart attack and was brought to the hospital too late.

"I apologize for being unable to help," He started, moving back over to the chair he was previously occupying. Castiel truly did feel bad for being unable to do anything useful for the man. The brunette had always thought of himself as a fairly nice man, willing to do nearly anything to have his patients feel as welcome and cared for as possible. But this.. He really couldn't manage. It was unfortunate, because for the very small amount of time the two of them had been talking; Castiel developed a liking of the man. Not anything drastic, of course. He was interesting. And again, bringing up the subject of Dean knowing the meaning of his name, the doctor was more than impressed. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

DEAN WINCHESTER

The thought of letting his brother's fate lay in someone else's hands scared the living shit out of him. Dean's jaw clenched once more in anger, this stranger, he didn't understand. Wouldn't know how to probably. Didn't have someone he cared about so deeply because Dean needed his brother. He felt those hands on his shoulder's once more and then calmed him down. Let him catch his breath when he was on the verge of breaking down. He needed to be strong, stronger than ever before for his brother. All he had to do was escape. He'd pretend to be asleep until this poor mook left the building and then he'd leave himself. Where was his baby?

"Where's my car at? I left it at the damn warehouse. That way when I blow this popsicle stand, I can get to my brother." The silent, 'since your not signing my damn paper to get me the hell out of here' was left in the air. He felt another wave of dizziness hit him and despite what he wanted to do, he felt himself leaning into the arms of the good `ol doctor for support. He tried to take his weight off of Castiel out of fear of smashing the guy's small frame. His eyes slid towards the bed, maybe the guy was right. He needed some sleep. He grabbed on to the other's blouse out of an attempt to keep himself upright before he let go and made his way to the bed and tried not to collapse like a little girl.

Despite what his mind was screaming out for him to do, he found his body straightening out and laying down on the bed. It felt like heaven for his bones compared to what had happened. He winced slightly at the small pressure of laying down on his back. Maybe laying down on his back wasn't smart. He turned over to his side, not trusting enough to have his back against the stranger. His eyes watching him for a couple of seconds before looking away. If he hadn't been as stubborn as he was, he'd point out that his back needed inspection. But he knew his body and it wasn't the first time he had been thrown into the wall or into a hard surface. Kinkiness aside, he knew it was just a really bad bruise and nothing internal.

He didn't remember drifting off, so it came as a shock when his surroundings were no longer the hospital but the abandon warehouse once more. Only instead of the Y.E.D. there was another person there, his back was to him. When he turned around however, Dean found himself let out a gasp of surprise and utter shock. What. the. hell? It was another him looking at him, only it was different. He couldn't explain it but there was just something.. the air about him that he knew made him different. Or maybe it was just because Dean knew who he was and it wasn't the man looking at him in the face."Hey Dean." Well that was casual. "Well, aren't you a handsome son of a gun." Seriously, he didn't know either to laugh or just think this shit was just plain off. Regardless, he smiled at the other version of him. All bravado and false. "We need to talk." Well that's just what they were doing, wasn't it? This may be a dream, but he was on edge. He walked in a circle and the other Dean seemed to follow his movements, in sync yet polar opposite. "I get it. I get it. I'm my own worst nightmare, is that it? Huh? Kind of like the Superman III junkyard scene? A little mano y mano with myself?"

"Joke all you want, smart-ass. But you can't lie to me. I know the truth." They both stop in place, having basically switched positions. It was unnerving how this dream concoction was alike yet so different. What the hell kind of drugs did the doctor give him? "I know how dead you are inside. How worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror... and hate what you see." Shit it was like his conscious was battling and trying to make him come to grips with his worse fears. He didn't like it. But he knew this was just a dream. Maybe all that thinking before knocking out was doing wonders on his dream state. He tried to remain aloof, like he didn't care that he was being confronted with everything he battled with constantly. "Talk about low self-esteem. I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog."

He didn't want to hear this, would shake his head to himself if he could. But then the other part that he still couldn't think of himself would see. Would see just how weak he is. He replied with resignation yet still unyielding to believe those words no matter how much he knew they were true. "That-That's not true." "No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought?" Dean didn't want to admit to anything and scoffed at the acclimation. Sure... maybe, no, it wasn't true. Sure that stuff was from his father but it didn't mean that him liking it was just because his father did. He really did love his music. Could he help it that the car had belonged to his father first? He had other leather jackets, his favorite one just happened to be a memento from his father. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that!

"No. No, all there is is, "Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy!" You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? I mean, think about it.. ..all he ever do is train you, boss you around. " Dean didn't want to hear any more. He shook his head and fiercely told the other to shut the hell up. He didn't know what he was talking about. That wasn't true.

"But Sam... Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved. Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?" That was it! He had warned the other not to say those things. He had had enough of this shit. He yelled out of anger. "Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam. That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family. He- He's the one who let Mom die."

Every sentence he had said had him throwing punches at the other him. Pinning him against the wall, throwing him off to the side. On top of him like an ape going insane, pounding on the guy, throwing a tantrum. Why? Because the stupid Sonofabitch was right. Everything he had said was right and it fucking hurtlike hell to admit it to himself. "He wasn't there for Sam. I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me. And I don't deserve this shit!" Just as he grabbed for his gun and shot the other one, he shot out of the bed, panting and gasping for air.

That was one hell of a nightmare that he needed to pull himself together.

He may have been burdened with taking care of his little brother because his father hadn't been capable of doing it. The fact that his father had became as obsessed as he had been with the Y.E.D. for taking everything from him. It wasn't going to consume him like it did his father. Sure, he wanted to catch the bastard, but he couldn't let himself fall down the same path his father had. That wouldn't help Sammy. He shuddered and glanced around. He needed to get the hell out of here and fast. He just hoped he wasn't stopped by anyone.

He got off the bed and wandered down the hall silently. First things first. He needed to get his personal items. If anything they'd be in Castiel's office..maybe? No, maybe there was a different room for that sort of thing. He didn't get the chance to find out though because he heard footsteps approaching from another direction. Must be a guard or something. He retreated and entered through the first door he saw only to have his heart drop down into his stomach. A voice sounded out of almost no where behind him and he cringed at how he had been caught by the same person he had been trying to avoid and escape. Castiel

I totally appreciate all your feedback! Any words of encouragement or advice will help fuel my writing and knock this writer's block off it's hinges. That way maybe another update today or tomorrow depending!