Chapter 2

Dean's POV

Castiel had left the school building so fast, Dean barely had time to grab the freshman's shirt and tie that he had forgotten and run after him. Jogging down the street, a sense of dread filled his chest. Who had done that to Cas? He seemed like such a nice kid – he couldn't deserve it, not with an attitude like that. The anger and hatred towards whoever beat Cas, the fear for his new-found friend, and another set of feelings he couldn't even begin to describe made his heart beat faster and his legs pump harder, breaking into a run.

That's when he heard the sirens. A police car whooshed past him, the air it was stirring up almost knocking him over, followed shortly by a wailing ambulance. Shit, Dean remembered thinking as he ignored the burning in his chest. He was too late. His dread was confirmed as he watched the police and ambulance pull into Castiel's driveway and rush inside. He was sprinting now, sprinting over the cracked, grey sidewalk, his mind trying to push the horrible pictures back as his feet pounded a rhythm into the concrete. Thump bump thump bump thump bump. His feet called, blood rushing in his ears. Time seemed to slow down as he burst through Cas's front door into a well-lit entryway littered with paramedics, and in the middle of it – no. Cas, no, Cas's body lay in the middle of it all, a paramedic with curly blonde hair kneeling over him. Dean didn't even have time to make a snarky, flirtatious look at the paramedic as he realized what was going on. "Cas!" He yelled just as someone grabbed his arms. He didn't even have time to process what he was doing as he flung their arms off of him. He wouldn't admit it later, but his eyes were prickling with tears.

Dean had never realized how important a heartbeat was until he heard Cas didn't have one anymore. Just as all hope was crashing around his feet, Dean heard a rattled, gasping breath as Castiel surged forward off the floor, his blue eyes snapping open. "Dean!" He called, his voice urgent but weak.

The paramedics were sent into a frenzy as Castiel winced, coughing and then curling up in pain. The pretty blonde one gently grabbed his shoulder, trying to turn him to her. "Honey, can you look at me? What's your name?"

Cas jumped back at her touch, skittering backwards across the hardwood floor, his eyes wide in terror. Just then, a police officer seized Dean's arm, turning him around. "We're going to have to ask you to leave." The man said, his other hand authoritatively on his hip.

"No, you don't understand, he's my friend!" Dean struggled futilely in the man's grasp. His heart was pounding in his chest. Thump bump thump bump thump bump. "They're going to hurt him! He needs me!"

"Look, kid," the police officer said, easily pushing him out of the house. "I'm going to have to ask you to stay out here."

"No!" Dean said, shoving the man in the chest and running back into the house before anyone could grab him, skidding to a stop next to Castiel. "Cas, Cas, it's me, I'm here." He babbled, and Cas opened his eyes wide enough to finally see Dean's face.

"Dean." He said softly, and the pain in his voice made Dean wince.

"It's okay, buddy, it's all over." He hadn't realized it, but tears were spilling down his face and plopping softly against his shirt. "They're gonna take care of you, okay?"

"Okay." He whispered softly, just as the cop caught up with Dean and pulled him back.

"Son, come with me." He said, leading Dean out of the house for a second time. "You can't be in there, not while the EMT's are. You're just gonna have to wait." Dean stopped struggling, wiping back tears as he backed out of the house, not tearing his eyes from Castiel's pale body, curled up on the floor and tentatively accepting the medic's probing hands. When Cas was out of view, Dean turned his eyes to meet the cop's amber ones. "That your boyfriend?" The cop asked, a trace of pity showing in his gaze.

"No." Dean almost blushed. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck as his heart slowly calmed down. Thump bump thump bump thump bump. He was shaking, he realized as he pulled Cas' shirt to his chest. "Just a friend."

The EMT's had managed to get Castiel laying on a stretcher, and were carrying him out of the house. "I… I don't know what happened to him!" His mother was saying, sobbing on a police officer's arm as she was led away in handcuffs. Her eyes, though clouded with tears, were sharp and hard in their blue severity. "He just… He comes home like this… I don't know what happened!"

Dean already didn't like her. The paramedics had gotten Castiel into the ambulance then, hooked up to a heart monitor and all sorts of other stuff. There was a tube around his head to help him breathe, staff already working on him. Dean spaced off, watching the line on Cas's heart monitor through his adrenaline-filled haze. The soft thump bump that he knew echoed in Cas's chest had been replaced with a jagged green line and weak, steady beeping. Beep. Beep. Beep. Over and over again. He went to stand by the ambulance door, and the pretty blonde EMT glanced down at him. "Want to ride along?" She asked him, flashing a sorry smile.

Dean nodded. He took a seat on the side of the ambulance, in a special seat designed for that purpose. Cas's jagged green line was irregular, all over the place, but there. Dean said a silent thanks to a god he barely believed in for that one. Cas's weak, wan form was exemplified in the lights, every bruise standing out against his ashen skin, every bloodstained cut gruesomely scarlet against the white sheet. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The ambulance doors were closed, with him, Cas, and two EMT's rushing away inside, the lights and sirens blaring. "We're gonna need 100 cc of that ointment, at least." The male EMT said, his head full of short brown hair pulled back in a net. "Make that 200, actually – This kid's not in good shape."

Cas was drifting in and out of consciousness. More than once on the five minute ride to the hospital, he jumped up, startled, and shied away from the paramedics with a scared look on his face. "It's alright, Cas." Dean had whispered, just loud enough to be heard. Castiel's face seemed to relax, and he gingerly rested back on the stretcher.

"We're gonna need to take him straight to the ER." The blonde nurse was saying. "He might have a cracked rib, a concussion, these lacerations don't look good… the left pectoral one is going to need to be stitched. We'll have to call Dr. Burton." She mused, her hands flying from controls to Castiel's body and back to the controls. She stopped, turning to Dean. "How much do you know about the boy?"

"Not much." He admitted, his voice coming out deep and strained. "Name, grade, the easy stuff."

"Okay, let's start there. Tell Dale here about him." She motioned to the male EMT, who had grabbed a clip board and was staring at Dean intently.

"Name?" He asked.

"Castiel Novak." Dean replied in a low voice.

"Grade?"

"Freshman. He's probably 14 or 15." Dean shook his head. "Look, man, I don't know hardly anything about him. We're fairly new friends, okay?"

"Fair enough." Dale replied, turning to look at Cas to answer a few questions Hair color: Dark brown. Eyes: Blue. Approx. height: 5'10". Approx. weight: Undefined.

Dean turned back to watching the blonde EMT and Castiel. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The heart monitor reported stoically. It had seen a lot – car crashes, heart attacks, the occasional murder victim being taken to the morgue – but it hadn't even seen a kid beat up as badly as Castiel. It wasn't his body that was broken so badly, even though that in itself was sickening, no, it was his spirit. He was emotionally broken.

They finally were at the hospital. The paramedics rushed into action, unhooking Cas from most of the equipment and opening the ambulance doors, wheeling the gurney out and into the ER while talking in a frenzy. The heart monitor, forgotten in everyone's rush, flat lined as it was yanked from Castiel's chest. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppppppppppp. Dean shook his head to rid himself of the image of it flat-lining with Cas attached before he followed the EMT's into the hospital. "You're going to have to come with me." Dale said, leading Dean into a crowded waiting room. "There's nothing you can do for him now, he's in the doctor's hands."

Dean didn't like being helpless. His heart still pounded inn his chest as he took a seat in the harsh lights of the waiting room. Thump bump. Thump bump. Thump bump. Its rhythm calmed him, lulling him down from his adrenaline high as he relaxed against the cheap waiting room chairs. He attracted stares from the other people, naturally. A few old people, a man clutching his head in his hands, a woman and her child, all turning to stare at the newcomer to their sanitized-smelling wonderhell. He sat for who knows how many minutes, staring at the door to the ER, until a man rushed into the hospital, his eyes wide and his blonde hair unkempt. He ran up to the front desk. "Ma'am, is there a boy checked in here by the name of Novak? Castiel Novak?"

"Why, yes there is!" The lady behind the desk said, resting her dark face on a pudgy arm. "How can I help you?"

"I'm his brother, Lucifer Novak. Can I see him?"

"He's in with the doctor right now, honey, but if you take a seat…" She motioned towards the waiting room, a smile on her face. "I'm sure you'll be able to see him in an hour or two."

Lucifer's worried face dropped into what Dean would almost call a growl for a moment before recomposing himself. "Of course. Just let me know." He wandered into the sitting room, taking the only available seat, which happened to be next to Dean. Looking over at him, Lucifer smiled almost kindly. "Who're you in for?"

"A friend." Dean said simply, not taking his eyes from the ER door.

"Must be a good friend." Lucifer cracked, trying to make a joke. "I hate this place. If it weren't for my brother, I'd be hightailing it out of here ASAP."

"Yeah, well, Cas needs someone good here." He muttered. If his mother and father had beaten the poor kid like that, Dean shuddered to think of what his brother had done. Maybe he'd only stood by and watched, but there wasn't a mark on the elder, and that in its own right made Dean unrealistically mad.

"Cas?" Lucifer had caught what Dean said, his eyes taking on a cruel, hard glint. "Cas as in Castiel? Castiel Novak?"

"That'd be him." Dean responded low in his throat.

Lucifer laughed. "You've got to be joking me. My brother doesn't have friends, and even if he did, he wouldn't be caught dead with someone like you."

Dean ignored his comment no matter how much it made his blood boil. He could hear his own pulse in his ears. Thump bump. Thump bump. Thump bump. Cas needed him here, he could feel it. Thump bump. Thump bump. Thump bump. Minutes passed, with nothing but the shifting of people and the quiet TV playing in the background. Dean was itching to get out of this room, to go outside or see Cas or do something, but he made a mental vow not to move until the doctor called him (and apparently, Lucifer) back for Castiel. The nurse had said two hours, then so be it, he'd sit for two hours. He looked down, surprised when he realized he was still holding Castiel's balled up shirt and tie in his hands. He stared at it for a minute like it was foreign. The situation hit him then. He was sitting here, in the hospital waiting room instead of in the lunch line, waiting on a report for someone he'd met only hours earlier. It seemed stupid; he almost laughed, but Cas was different somehow. He didn't know why he cared about the kid so much. Something in his eyes, the way he looked at Dean, almost reminded him of Sammy. A beat, hurt, abused Sammy. With wicked sky blue eyes.

It had been an hour and a half in uncomfortable silence when a doctor came out of the back, scanning the waiting room. "Anyone here for Castiel Novak?" he asked as he removed a hair net.

Dean stood up before Lucifer had time to process the question. "Is he alright?" He asked, trying not to let as much worry show on his face as there was in his heart.

"He will be, eventually." The doctor replied, a strained smile on his face as Lucifer stood up behind Dean. "He's pretty beat up, but he's awake. If you'll come with me…"

Dean was right on the doctor's heels, Lucifer hanging back as they walked to Castiel's room. The first impression Dean had as they turned into room 79 was its impeccable whiteness. His eyes were drawn to Castiel's form in the white bed, bruised and battered, covered in gauze and ointment, hooked up to yet another heart monitor. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Dean's breath almost caught in his throat, but he wouldn't show it. Cas looked up from his hand, smiling when he saw Dean, but his face went pale and as white as the bedsheet when Lucifer walked in. Dean was right – his brother was a bastard, he never helped or DREAMED of helping Cas away from their parents. "Hey, Cassie." Lucifer said, his voice forced into faux sweetness. "I'm glad you're alright, little brother. I heard those kids at school can be pretty vicious."

"Yes." Castiel murmured automatically. His heart rate on the monitor went up a little bit. Beep beep beep beep. "I'm glad I'm safe now."

Dean watched the two of them. "I… I came back to return your shirt. You left it at school." Dean said awkwardly as Lucifer stared at him intently. Dean folded the shirt, laying it on the counter next to Castiel's bed and going to lean on the blindingly white wall.

"My brother's… shirt." Lucifer said, sending Dean an amused gaze. "Well, thank you, kid."

"Yeah, thanks, Dean." Cas echoed, his voice low and pained.

"Don't thank me, just rest. You're beat up bad, man."

Dean gave Cas a wry smile. Cas echoed it hollowly, his eyes still clouded with pain despite whatever drugs they had an IV piping into his system. Lucifer looked between the two of them, the cruel, amused smile never leaving his face. "I'm going to go get lunch, Castiel, alright?" He said. Clearly not a question.

"Okay, Lucifer." Castiel replied, his head sinking back in the pillows. When Lucifer left, Castiel turned his eyes to Dean. Dean wondered, momentarily, how Cas's eyes got so blue. Was there anything else in the world that was that colour? Dean doubted it. "That was my brother."

"I know." Dean said, sitting in a chair in the corner. He was tired, he realized. The adrenaline had finally left his system and he was crashing hard. "I'm sorry, Cas."

"What for?" Castiel looked genuinely confused. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I know. I really don't know. Don't ask me what I mean." Dean shook his head, rubbing his temples. His eyes threatened to close every second. The heart monitor wasn't helping, its muted electronic beeps lulling him deeper to sleep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Cas watched his face as Dean watched the heart monitor, stared at the white ceiling, the cream colored floor tiles, anywhere but Castiel's face.

"It's okay, really." Cas said quietly.

"No, it's not. You could have been dead forever." Dean's voice almost sounded like it was shaking. Was Dean's voice shaking? He didn't like the idea he'd let his voice shake, and he cleared his throat. "So, y'know, don't die, okay?"

"I won't, not right now." He promised "We all die someday."

"I know." Dean was quiet for a moment, and then smiled wryly. "I guess we don't get to watch Monte Python tomorrow, huh?" He mused, a faint smile ghosting his lips.

"It doesn't appear that way." Castiel attempted to smile at Dean, but he managed to contort his face into a weird grimace. "I'm sorry that I ruined our friend date, Dean."

"I already told you, don't apologize." Dean said gruffly.

"You said not to thank you, and I'm not." Castiel pointed out, his voice weak.

"Just rest, man." Dean said, standing. "I should probably go – they might try to bring you lunch soon. I should go get my own lunch."

"Okay." Cas said, sounding kind of sad Dean was leaving. "But you'll come back, right?"

"That's what friends do, Cas." As Dean left the room, walking down the blindingly white corridor, the heart monitor's beeps faded into the background. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.