The nurse had just been standing there, in the doorway, smiling as she listened to Dean tell stories to Sam about their childhood, how they handled each first day of school. The nurse, Lucy, couldn't quite understand why they had to travel so much—what kind of father would let their kids have to go through all those schools, to have to start over practically every month? She didn't question, though, because that would lead to having to confess that she had been spying on them. Dean started to tell another story to his unconscious brother when Lucy finally decided ten minutes had been enough eavesdropping. She knocked on the door, straightening herself up as if to seem that she had just arrived to the room.

Dean looked over and raised his eyebrows to see her there.

"Any response at all?" She asked him.

Dean sighed in defeat as he shook his head. "Nothing."

"I'm so sorry. He will come around, though."

"Yeah you keep saying that, but I know what the doc thinks." Dean rubbed his face with his hands and squinted his eyes. "Because the fact is, none of you believe Sam's gonna make it."

Lucy opened her mouth to say more, but it was the truth. Sam was in critical condition, and as much as they wanted him to be well, it seemed almost impossible. It would be a miracle if Sam woke with no problem.

But she spoke anyway, "A prayer might help. God will-"

"Don't give me that," Dean shot her a glare. "Don't give me that whole God speech. I know enough to know he's not listening." He turned his attention back to his brother. "Not anymore, anyway. Hasn't been for a while. Nobody up there is anymore." He licked his lips as Castiel came to mind. The wonder, or rather, worry of where the hell that fallen angel was began to linger in his thoughts.

He went back to the last time he had seen him, how he honestly was all for locking Cas up in Heaven if it meant all the other angels would be locked up, too. He was going to risk losing Cas forever, and though it was because at the time he was angry with angel, Dean was relieved it hadn't happened. He knew he would have been regretting it now if it had occurred.

"Dean?" Lucy's voice came to his attention and he turned his head to face the young nurse again. She sighed and flashed him a soft smile. "Never doubt him, Dean."

It took Dean a moment to remember what they had been talking about before he lost himself in his own thoughts, but once he did remember, he shrugged. "It's too late for that."

Seeing that conversation with him wasn't going to work out, Lucy frowned and made her back to her desk and Dean felt more relaxed that was she gone. He knew she meant well with the whole prayers and all and she didn't know of anything Dean had went through, but he still couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed by it. He sat up in his chair and stared at Sam, how his stomach slowly rose and then back down, how the color from his face was almost gone, how even his hair looked dull.

"They only think what they think because they don't know you like I do, Sammy," Dean told him. "They don't know the kind of fighter you are."

But as always, no response came in return. As much as Dean tried to smile, it failed to happen. He just didn't want to pretend to feel confident about this. Maybe they were right... No.

No, definitely not.

They didn't know anything. They were took quick to give up on Sam, and Dean wasn't about to give up. It had only been a few days. There was still time, and hell, there still even some hope left.

He got up from his seat and walked over to the window to stare out. What else was he supposed to do? He didn't want to leave the room. What if Sam woke up when he was out? Dean sighed through his nose as he watched people walk by down below on the sidewalk. Each of them were beginning to look familiar, like he had seen them walk by the day before, and the day before that. Maybe he saw them walk by earlier when he woke up and looked outside.

But some were really looking familiar to him, like he knew them by name. Dean blinked hard and shook his head as he saw a man wearing a trench coat walk by, choppy dark hair and seeming confused by his swaying, slow walk. It was so familiar to him that Dean wanted to laugh as he told himself how that man reminded him so much of...

The smile quickly faded from his face as he looked closer at the man wearing the trench coat. His heart sped up followed by his widening eyes.

"Cas?" The name escaped his mouth without his control.

He looked back at Sam before debating with himself whether to run out and check to see if that was indeed Castiel. Dean swallowed hard before agreeing to it and he was quick about it. He didn't want to lose sight of this man. He didn't want to lose his chances just in case it really was Cas.

He ran passed the front desk that Lucy looked up and called out for him, asking him what was going on, but Dean didn't stop to answer her. He pushed open the front doors, mindlessly ignoring those trying to get inside. He stepped onto the sidewalk and quickly began to look around, scanning each person from left to right and across the street, but the man was out of sight. Everyone around him was moving fast that he told himself to relax enough to be able to check more clearly.

But no.

The man was gone.

Dean slumped his shoulders as disappointment filled him. What if it was Cas? What if it wasn't? Should he even bother to care? It didn't matter either way anymore.

"I don't understand. Why am I not getting my food?" Cas squinted his eyes as he stared at the vending machine next to the hospital entrance. "I put in the right amount. I pressed the buttons. Why are you refusing me service?"

Dean shook his head as he turned back around to head back inside.

Cas narrowed his eyes. "I'm hungry and you betrayed me."

"Try kicking it," an elderly woman said as she walked by him, smiling softly.

Castiel blinked and faced her. "What good would that do?"

"Sometimes it gets jammed. Go on, kick it. You'll see how it'll work."

With some hesitation, Cas stepped back and huffed before raising his foot up and kicking the machine in front of him. Dean stopped abruptly at the door from the sound and furrowed his eyebrows as he looked over to see what was going on.

The small bag of chips finally made their way down and Cas grinned in satisfaction. He looked at woman and thanked her.

"No problem," she said. "My grandson tends to do that all the time. I figured it would work now."

"Strange to have to show violence to a machine for it to work," Cas told her.

The woman laughed as she turned around and walked off. She smiled at Dean before entering, but Dean was much too distracted by gaping at the sight of Cas standing there.

"Cas?" He finally managed to say.

The fallen angel looked over at the sound of his name and froze for a moment. "Dean."

The corners of Dean's lips rose. "Son of a bitch, it is you." He walked up to him, his smile growing bigger. "Man, where have you been?" As they stood face-to-face, Dean examined Castiel's features. He didn't seem to be hurt in anyway.

"After I fell, I just wandered around," Cas explained. "Sleeping in the most uncomfortable places."

Dean nodded. "Just wandering around?"

Cas thought about what to say next, but then he decided on simply telling the truth. "Well, searching for you."

There was something about the way Cas said it that made Dean feel, well, warm inside. He felt safe... a bit content... and beyond relieved. A soft smile crept up on his face and his eyes even began to look warmer to Castiel.

"It's good to see you, Cas," Dean said.

They stared into each other's eyes, green getting lost in blue, but Cas turned away suddenly and cleared his throat. "Considering you're here at the hospital," finding the confidence, he faced Dean again, "I must ask, is Sam okay?"

And when the warmth from Dean's face faded, Cas immediately knew the answer. "I'm sorry, Dean. He'll be alright."

"That's what I keep telling myself, too," Dean sighed, finding comfort in staring at the ground rather than at his friend.

"He will be alright, Dean." The sound of determination in Castiel's voice caused Dean to look back up. He could see the concern in those all-too familiar blue eyes that he couldn't help but smile.

And he nodded. "Man, Cas... it really is good to see you."

Castiel stepped forward, his lips parted slightly. The closeness would have been too much for Dean before, but it didn't bother him now.

"It's good to see you, too, Dean," Cas said, in such a soft voice that Dean found it easier to smile.

What was it about Castiel's presence that seemed to suddenly relax Dean? Just before seeing him, he felt lost, worried sick about his brother, and now he was smiling, feeling better about Sam's well being, almost like knowing for sure he would recover. Dean let out a long breath, feeling as though he had been holding it in. It probably was just relief, relief that he longer needed to worry about where Cas was. The worry he still had was much too strong, but Cas had lifted some weight off his shoulders, and that was a decent feeling.

The two made their way into the building and up to where Sam still rested, eyes closed, no movements but his continuous gentle breathing, maybe too gentle. Though with man wearing a trench coat in the room, everything felt more calm, more steady. And Dean sat in silence as he listened to Castiel explain what exactly happened. He liked the distraction. He was thankful for it. He needed it.

Or rather, it was Cas he needed, to be there with him.

And now he was.

So even though what the fallen angel was telling him wasn't anything happy, Dean smiled, just from noticing how Castiel's eyebrows furrowed a bit as he explained. He smiled, but not enough to seem as if he was amused with the story. He smiled a smile that told Cas he was happy that he was there.

A/N: Omg, so I'm guessing I'm going to give this story a try. I adore these two, so why not? Haha.