It was night, a slow drip of hours in which he should be sleeping. He had slept some, but now it was 3:00 am and sleep was done with him. He adjusted his bed and considered watching T.V., but nothing would likely be on at this hour. He could hear the nurses in the hall, making their rounds. He glanced at the tray beside his bed and thought about reading from the book that was sitting there. Michael had brought a whole collection for him. Not that desperate yet. He let his eyes wander to the window. He was on the 18th floor, so he couldn't see much from his bed beyond the sky and the other tall buildings across the street.
He chose to focus on the sky, so different from the sky back home. There it was big with clouds and so deep blue, that you could lose yourself in the daydreams that it would inspire. At night it was so full of stars that surely there were constellations there that no one had discovered yet. Here was different. Here the sky in the day was viewed in swatches between grey skyscrapers. Here the night sky was washed out in streetlight hues of orange and sickly yellow. He liked that it was different, like a future that might hold so much that was unexpected.
He felt cold. It was becoming a common thing. He would wake up shivering. He wondered if it was a byproduct of the surgery. Maybe his heart donor had been a cold person. He did not have a way of knowing. He would in the morning though. They would arrive en masse. There would be a mother, father, brother, girlfriend, and maybe an aunt and uncle. He got names that he opted not to retain. He knew the donor's name, Sam, Sam Winchester.
He opened his mouth and blew out a noticeable puff of air. It was really cold. It wasn't just him. There was movement at the foot of his bed. He blinked and adjusted the bed more. He reached over to the tray and found his glasses. He did not need them for most things, but he had his father bring them anyway. He slipped them on and stared at the far wall, the area that had seemed to be occupied. Nothing moved. The room seemed to be empty. The mylar balloon seemed to twist a little on a breeze that shouldn't be there. He pushed the call button.
A nurse came into the room a few moments later. "How you doing Mr. Shurley?" They were all kind in their own ways. This nurse was particularly kind. Missouri felt real, unlike so many people that Cas had encountered. She did not bluster or put on a show. She scooped up his wrist into her hand and looked down into his face.
"It's cold, right?" He couldn't just ask for help adjusting the thermostat. He had to get confirmation of the temperature.
"You feel cold. Seems a little chilly, I guess." She let his wrist go, and she walked to the far wall where the thermostat was. "Says it is 70 degrees."
"So, I'm crazy, huh?"
"No, you felt cold. How 'bout I get you an extra blanket? Then you can just toss it off if you get too hot." She walked over to the closet and rummaged around for the extra blanket that was in there. She brought it over and laid it on him. "Better?"
"Yes, thanks Missouri."
"No problem, sugar. Just buzz if you need anything else." She started to leave and then turned back to him. "Big day tomorrow huh?" He had heard his father discussing the situation with her the other day.
"Big day today, technically."
She gave him a wink and said, "Try to get some sleep. It won't be so bad meeting them. Plus, the awkwardness will pass quickly enough. When my boy died 'bout nine years ago, wasn't much left to donate, but somehow the doctors managed to save his kidneys. They went to this sweet girl out in California. Got to meet her and her family. It helped some. You're doing a good thing meeting them."
"Thanks Missouri." She left, and he fell back into his thoughts. He stared out the window at the sky, with its washed out stars and noticed that the window was fogging up with condensation. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander more. Sleep eventually came to him, but it was a troubled sleep filled with dreams of fire and thick black smoke that filled his lungs.
When he woke up again, he felt like he was choking. He was surprised that the room was not on fire. He was also surprised that there was daylight coming through the window. His doctor showed up not long after he woke up just to check in. According to him, he was fine enough to entertain the extra visitors that would be making their way to the hospital that day. Secretly he had hoped for a different verdict. They would be arriving soon, and he did not feel ready for it one bit.
The tray next to his bed was a mess of random things. There was a wadded up napkin from breakfast that had somehow fallen off of his breakfast plate, the stack of likely all very bad books, and a mountain of spare change. The various family members had been leaving change behind with each visit in case anyone needed to get a soda from down the hall. Cas was sure that they could feed in dollar bills just fine, but that they were all just patently trying to irritate him while getting rid of all of their annoying coins.
He began stacking them into neatly ordered columns. The quarters were grouped together as were the others. He thought about how likely it was that the tray would be bumped by someone. The coins would fall. He sighed out a breath of frustration. His world was disorganized and any attempt to bring order to it now ended in more stress for him. He could feel the air outside of his room as it was displaced by bodies. Voices and footsteps echoing toward his room. He knew that they were coming to him, because he had grown accustomed to the others. These were new, and he braced himself for their presence. His doctor entered first with an older woman that was strikingly beautiful. Cas consciously moved his lips into a smile.
"Hello, Mr. Shurley. This is Mary Winchester, Sam's mother." They approached his bed. She smiled.
"Hello Mrs. Winchester." He lifted his hand to her in an effort to shake. His hand looked weak. She took it anyway.
"Please, call me Mary."
"Then you'll have to call me Cas." The doctor moved a chair over for her, and she sat. "I thought that there would be more." He looked past her, trying to find the rest of her family.
"I'm afraid that I needed to limit your visitors. You will get to see them one at a time. If you become too fatigued though, we will need to end this early." The doctor rested a hand on Cas' shoulder, giving it a knowing squeeze before he left. The change to the visit was a mercy move, and Cas was grateful. The doctor left and Cas focused his attention on Mary.
"How are you feeling?" Mary asked him as she reached out for his hand again. He let her hold it.
"They say that I am recovering well. The heart is strong." He wanted to acknowledge the sacrifice. He didn't know what to say though. "Thank you, for letting me have this. I had made my peace with dying. I never expected to have time."
"It would have pleased Sam to know that he had managed to save someone even after he had died. He was a good man." She looked like she was fighting hard to keep herself from tears.
"Would you mind telling me about him? I mean, if you don't think that I am invading your privacy by asking." He hoped that talking would make her feel better. He also knew that his skill set involved listening. The less he said the better, actually. He did not want to risk taking them both down a road of social awkwardness.
She smiled again and told him a story about Sam as a child. He laughed at the appropriate times, and she seemed to be happy with the story. She ended by asking, "Do you live in the city?"
"No, but I like the idea of living here." He glanced at the window.
"Where do you live?"
"Over in West Carrolton. I moved home after college. My health issues would not permit me to live on my own."
"So, you live with your parents?"
"For now. I look forward to giving my mom back her craft room." He laughed a little, but not too much. He didn't want to start coughing. "She didn't really have a craft room, but I always thought that she should. My room has a nice view of the garden. She would likely enjoy looking out the window while working in there."
"She'd probably rather have you there." She smiled back. "I should let the rest of my people meet you." Before she left, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry. I just…"
"It was fine."
"If you ever need anything or even if you don't, I…" She set a slip of paper on the tray. "This is my number. I just would love to know from time to time that you are okay." She shifted about for a moment.
"I'd be happy to keep in touch." She seemed relieved by his words. She slowly moved out the door.
"Thank you, Cas." She ducked around the corner. Cas took a deep breath despite the pain that accompanied it.
A man rounded the corner next, a tall man with a wild mess of facial hair. His eyes were stoic. He moved slowly toward the center of the room, as though he did not want to be there. "Hello." Cas nodded, waiting for the man to speak.
He rested his hands on the back of the chair that Mary had occupied just moments before. "I'm John."
"Sam's father?"
"Yes." This was going to be a fun conversation.
"Your wife is a lovely woman. I enjoyed her stories."
"This is awkward. I'm sorry about that." He gripped the chair tighter.
"It could have been worse," Cas offered.
"Really? How so?"
"Well, you all were going to visit me at once. Then we would have had a whole crowd of people with nothing to say." He tried to keep his tone light, but he realized that what he had said was likely rude. "Sorry."
"Don't be. It's true. I mean how do you meet someone that is carrying around your son's heart in his chest?" He loosened his grip on the chair a little. "So what story did my wife tell you?"
"It was about his first day in kindergarten. He really liked hamsters." Cas smiled.
"Not as much as he liked dogs. I should have let him have one. I always had some reason to say no to him." He looked off at the window.
"My parents were wholly against pet ownership until I got sick. Suddenly, we had a cat, a guinea pig, and several tropical fish. The fish did not work out so well. Turned out that one of them was a cannibal."
"No dog though?"
"Nah. The guinea pig and the cat were more our speed."
"You drive?"
The question seemed to come out of left field. Cas answered, "Yes, well not at the moment."
"If you ever need car repairs or like an oil change or something. Bobby and I have a shop. Dean helps out there too on his days off from the firehouse. He'll come in next." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He shuffled through it, pulling out a greasy card. He set it on the tray.
"Thanks." John moved off toward the door, slipping out as quietly as he entered.
He was expecting the Dean guy and instead he ended up with a couple. "Hi. I'm Ellen and this is Bobby. They said if we were quick that we could come in together."
"Oh. Nice to meet you both. John said that someone named Dean was coming in next."
"Oh, Dean is having a hard time with this. We're giving him a bit more time by visiting with you next."
"He doesn't have to do this. I won't be offended." Cas shifted up a little so that he was sitting more on the slightly inclined bed.
Ellen moved closer, resting her hand on his arm just above the I.V. lines. "It's gonna be hard for him, but he should do it. Dean's gonna need some closure. He and Sam were closer than any two siblings could be. It was almost like they had that odd twin thing going on, ya know, where they speak their own language."
Bobby cupped her elbow and leaned into her shoulder. He peered down at Cas. He reminded Cas of John in a way, his face seemingly hardened from working outdoors. "Surprised all of us when Sam didn't follow Dean into the life of a firefighter. Always seemed like those two were rather inseparable."
"I have some siblings as well. I do not have the same bond with them though." He caught a look that seemed to flash across Bobby's face, then Ellen's, and he added, "I love them, but we have very different outlooks on life." He cast a glance at the tray with Michael's books. "And literature. Michael seems hell bent on reading me the worst possible stories. I sometimes think that this is all an elaborate means by which he will encourage my immediate and total recovery. It may be working."
Ellen laughed first, turning to Bobby. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you and your brother might have more in common with Dean and Sam than you realize." Bobby laughed at that too. Ellen looked down at the tray at her side. "Looks like the whole family has taken to leaving you some calling cards."
"Well, I guess they want me to keep in touch or something." Cas smiled at her.
"Sounds like us." Bobby moved his hand up to Ellen's shoulder and said, "Ellen here doesn't have a fancy business card, but she does have an awesome diner over on Jefferson, couple of blocks away." He stopped and took in the room and its equipment. "Uh, maybe I shouldn't recommend diner food to you in your present condition." He leaned past Ellen then and whispered, "But seriously, it is damn good food."
"Stop in and see us there sometime. The first meal will be on the house. I'll try to throw together some heart healthy food."
"Pancakes?" He raised an eyebrow with the question. He'd had enough heart healthy food over the years, and quite frankly he was over it.
"I might be able to accommodate you there." She smiled at the request. "Make a mean burger too, if you ever have a hankering for one."
"You really had me at diner food. It has been too long, and man shall not live by I.V. drip alone."
"They ain't feeding you?" Bobby sounded concerned.
"I don't call what they bring to me food. It is merely a means to an end." Cas waved an arm at the door as if to show what he thought of it all.
The doctor poked his head back in the room. "Well, I think that we need to give Mr. Shurley here a little rest." Bobby and Ellen looked back over their shoulders at him.
"Dean coming in?" Bobby asked.
"You are the last visitors." The doctor came in a bit more and Bobby and Ellen moved away from the bed.
"Glad to have met you kid. Take good care of that heart." Bobby was already nearly out the door.
"I will." Cas gave a little wave with the words.
Ellen added before she left the room, "And we really do mean it, Cas. Do stop by the diner. It'll be good seeing you all well."
"I will. Looking forward to it actually." He gave her a little wave too, and then they were all gone. He let out a sigh of relief. It had gone well, and he was tired. He glanced at the tray with the little Winchester contacts set too close to the edge. He reached over and dragged them closer to the carefully stacked coins in the center of the tray. The doctor left. He closed his eyes and somehow managed to fall asleep.
He was not sure how long he had slept for, but he certainly dreamed. He saw a large old brick building that seemed somewhat familiar. He thought that it was like one that he had seen downtown once when his family had come through for some medical appointment or another. He walked through it in the dream, taking in the high windows, and spotlessly clean countertops, desks, and marbled floors. Everything seemed to reflect back at him. He paused in mid step around a corner and caught one of those reflections in a large glass doorway. The face in it was not his own. The hair was longer than his own and lighter, like sand after a wave has darkened it. He reached out to the reflection and it turned away. It seemed to be directing him. He walked down the hall until he came to a door labeled Samuel Winchester. He pushed past the door and saw that the room was charred beyond what it should have been given the pristine nature of things on the other side of the door.
A voice at his side spoke. "This is what happens when you know too much. Try not to look too hard."
Cas turned to the voice, but no one was there. "What happened here?"
"I died."
"Why?" Cas kept turning, trying to see the speaker.
The voice did not answer, because Cas woke up. The room had a blindingly bright swatch of light pouring in from his window. The light fell right across his face. He tried to squint through it to see the room. Someone was there with him. "Uh, hello." Cas spoke out to the shape that was not really a person yet. He readjusted the bed so that his face was not in the blinding light anymore. The person in front of him shifted about in the chair at his side.
"Hello." The tone was low like the piano keys that hardly ever get played. His eyes adjusted and he could now see what was sitting in front of him. I've died. He thought this as he took in the features of the man sitting close to his bed. An angel has come to take me to the great beyond. It was a fair assessment as the sun came through the window practically setting a glow all around his visitor.
"Am I dead?" When he was tired or just waking up, sometimes Cas' mouth would just open and words would come tumbling out. He hated the lack of control that he had in those moments, but never had been able to solve for them.
A slight puff of air came out of the man and it sounded like it could have been a laugh if he would have allowed for it to last. He didn't though. "No. You're alive."
Cas waited for him to tell him who he was. He wondered if he should recognize him. His hair was light brown, not like straw, but more like some of his favorite leaves in late autumn. His eyes were green, but the way the light was he couldn't be sure if there was a little of another color muddying the green. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"I'm Dean Winchester. Sorry about the creepy wake up. I was told not to disturb your sleep."
"So you just hung around while I snored away?" Cas felt a little awkward.
"Figured I'd just wait here. If you slept much longer, I was going to leave." He ran a hand back through his hair and then returned it to his lap. "God, this is weird."
"A little. Your family was nice." Cas folded his hands together in his lap.
"Yeah, I've been blessed." He looked away and added, "and cursed."
"I'm sorry." Cas knew that this was one of those moments where you say something sympathetic thus bridging the gap to other more comfortable conversations. "Ellen said that you were quite close, almost like twins."
Dean let out another little huff of a laugh. "If by twins she meant that we were almost complete opposites and that he was a goddamn nuisance."
"Don't think that she meant that." Cas smiled in what he hoped was a look of encouragement. "How was he a nuisance? I have a brother that I would categorize in the same way, so it is a comfort to hear other's tales from the sibling battlefield."
"He and I had what one would call a not so healthy sibling rivalry that often ended in us pulling some of the worst pranks imaginable on each other."
"What was your best prank?"
"I put Nair in his shampoo bottle. It didn't take out all of his hair, but it made him patchy. Best part was that it made him get a haircut." Dean smiled at the memory.
"I once swapped out the cream in the middle of Michael's eclair. Took my time removing it so that it would look undamaged, then I filled it back up with mayo. He nearly threw up. He would have killed me if it weren't for the fact that I was already dying and everyone was supposed to be like extra nice to me all of the time, no matter what." Cas remembered the look on Michael's face. It had taken all of his willpower to keep from reacting. He should have felt guilty about it, but he didn't. Michael kind of deserved it.
"He ever get you back?" Dean moved closer to the bed. The chair made a scraping noise as he dragged it with him.
"Yeah, it was bad." Cas looked away, not sure if he wanted to share.
"Well, now you gotta share." Dean's hand rested on the tray next to his bed, drumming out a little tune with his fingers.
"Hmm, so, don't judge, okay?" Dean nodded his assent and Cas continued, "So, Michael loaded up my laptop with tons of gay porn. Like, so much porn." Cas laughed at the memory. "I think that he thought that I would react or something, like throw a little hissy fit at him over all of it. I didn't react to it the way that he wanted though. In fact, he came to me and said, 'see any good videos lately?' all sly like he was some kind of comedian or something. I just said, as casual as the day is long, 'yeah, thanks for that, saved me the trouble of having to go out and find it on my own.'"
"What'd he do?"
"Oh, he threw out some comment like, 'you did look at them right?' I told him that I did and he added, 'you noticed that it was all gay right?' And I just told him that I was rather indifferent to sexual orientation." Cas watched Dean's face for a reaction. Seeing no faltering look he continued. "I would have counted it a victory if he hadn't gone off to tell my parents that I was gay. I'm not much for airing my private life, so that weekend was not on my top ten list of fun times."
"They make a big deal about it?" Dean reached up and scrubbed at his chin a little.
"Only in that they kind of tried not to make it a big deal. They just kept making comments about acceptance and such. We usually have a family movie night, and they decided that we would watch Brokeback Mountain together. Do you know what is more awkward than that? Nothing, is the short answer. No one should ever have to watch movies containing sex alongside their parents." Cas shuddered a bit with the memory.
"Sounds like hell." Dean's drumming slowed a bit. "Ya know, I almost didn't come by."
"Understandable." Cas wanted to say more, encourage him to talk, but he already felt like he was talking too much. He usually didn't have so much trouble with keeping quiet. He kind of felt that brevity was a virtue, but somehow, with Dean he kept opening his mouth and words kept spilling out.
"I thought that it would be awkward." He shifted about in his seat, his foot tapping away in front of him now.
"I was plenty worried myself. Told my dad that I didn't want to meet you all. He guilted me into it." He worried for a moment that the admission would sound rude. He added, "I'm glad he did. Your family was nice. You seem nice too. I'm sorry that we met under these circumstances."
"I think you would have liked Sam." Dean got up abruptly.
"You leaving?" Cas cocked his head to the side. He realized too late that he sounded sad. He didn't want Dean to stay out of pity and worried that his tone would accomplish that.
"Oh, uh, I don't want to overstay my welcome."
"You aren't. I understand though, if you have things to do. I didn't mean to sound pathetic there."
Dean sat back down and folded his hands in front of him. "I think that I just made things awkward, and now that I sat back down I think that it is going to get worse."
"LIkely. That's what you get for trying to end the conversation so abruptly." Cas laughed a little and Dean joined him.
"So, what do you do when you aren't laying around in a hospital?"
"I edit books for my family's publishing company, mostly. I used to just go to my college classes and hang around aimlessly at home. I am not an exciting person." He suddenly felt rather self-conscious like just staying alive wasn't exciting enough. "What about you? What do you do?"
"I'm a firefighter most days and on other days, I help out my dad and uncle Bobby at the salvage yard. I am also not a very exciting person." Dean ducked his head a little sheepishly.
"You're going to have a hard time convincing me of that. Fighting fires sounds way more exciting than reading books." He suddenly felt rather self-conscious again. He caught a little reflection of himself in the tray next to his bed and he did not like what he was seeing. His hair was a wild mess of brown all around his head. His eyes looked like they were lined with the dark evidence of his lack of sleep.
"It's a good gig most days. You know, saving people and stuff. Sometimes it's not." He didn't explain and somehow, Cas knew that it would not be okay to ask for more.
The doctor poked his head in around the door and then came to his side. "You've had a lot of company today Mr. Shurley."
"Call me popular." I need to work on the charming one-liners.
"Visiting hours are about up." The doctor gave a sidelong glance at Dean. "You think you can wrap up the visit in say fifteen minutes?"
Dean looked at his watch and got up. "I think I can." He leaned against the footboard of the bed.
The doctor headed back out the door. "I'll come back and check up on you in fifteen."
"I guess that's my cue to go." Dean stretched up a bit and his shirt inched up a little with the move. Cas absolutely did not notice it.
"I guess so. It was nice meeting you." He became quiet a little. "I suppose I'll run into you sometime at Ellen's. She offered to serve me something heart healthy."
A look crossed Dean's face, then he said, "Screw that. You should get a burger. Her cook, Ash makes up a mean burger." He took a tentative step back and opened his mouth, seeming to consider saying something more before closing his mouth again.
"I'm glad you came."
"Me too." Dean walked to the door and then leaned into the doorway, looking back in. "Would it be weird if I came back?"
"Not a bit. I might be out of here in a couple of weeks, so come get your dose of awkward before I leave." He smiled and did his best not to run his hand up through his hair. No sense in making it messier.
"I'd like that."
"Me too." Cas gave him a tiny wave, and Dean left. He reached over to the tray and straightened out the coin stacks a little more. Looking at the time, he thought that it was too bad that there weren't longer visiting hours or ways to occupy one's time once that time came to an end.
He closed his eyes, just for a moment and concentrated on the room, the clicking of a distant pen, the whir of a machine, and the chill that brushed past his cheek when the air conditioner likely came on. Time was funny like that, in the way that now that he had so much of it, he could take the time to notice the little things. He opened his eyes and stared at the doorway that seemed rather empty now, a gaping maw eating up the world. He would ask to go outside tomorrow, and hope that someone with a little power would go along with the plan. The world was a big place, and he was ready to see it again maybe like it was the first time.
