Hellow :3 new chapter, yay!
I hope you like this one; I know I said we would know more about Beelzebub soon, BUT I was inspired and got carried away…
Anyway, I promise I'll write about him on our next chapter ;)
Thanks a lot to everyone who has favourited/followed this fic, it means everything!
Enjoy!
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Two hours later, somewhere between eight and eight -thirty in the morning, Sam had already bought breakfast for Dean and himself in the hospital's cafeteria and had taken a change of clothes for them both from the Impala's trunk. He returned to Cas' room and got changed. He looked at his brother and the angel, and couldn't help but smile. He found his phone in his pocket and took a picture, giggling. If Dean ever found out he would kill him. Anyway, time to wake him up.
"Dean." Sam shook his brother's shoulder "Dean, wake up"
"Hmm?" Dean yawned and, realizing he was holding Cas' wrist and had fallen asleep next to him, quickly sat up really straight. "Yeah, right. He'll be alright. I was just," Dean cleared his throat and let go of Cas "taking his pulse."
"Yeah, sure. I brought you some clean clothes. Breakfast is on the table" Sam pointed to the wooden table next to the sofa.
"Geez, thanks man. What would I do without you?" Dean beamed at his brother, then took the clothes and went to the bathroom. Five minutes later he was out, changed and clean. He had rubbed the blood from his face and hands, and felt his stomach churn when the smell of croissants and real coffee reached his nose.
"God, I'm starving!"
"Me too. It seems the croissants are the only appetizing food in here, everything else is just… disgusting" Sam grimaced and got the food out of its plastic bag. "The coffee is from the seven-eleven across the street"
"Hmm, my favorite" Dean clasped his hands and took a sip, almost spitting it out when the hot liquid burnt his tongue.
"Careful, it's…"
"Burning!" Dean made an awkward face, and left the paper cup back on the table. "Thanks for the heads up!"
"Sorry, I tried to warn you" Sam shrugged, handing Dean his croissant and unwrapping his own.
"Yeah, a little too late"
Sam ignored him and moved the conversation to more pressing matters, "Dude, can I ask you something?"
"Shoot" Dean said, with a mouthful of croissant.
"Do you, I don't know, have any sort of feelings for Cas?"
"What?" Dean looked at Sam with widening eyes, almost choking on his croissant.
'Ok, maybe that wasn't the best way to start the conversation' Sam thought 'Nice try for a smooth change, idiot'
"You know, maybe you… like him? Which is fine, by the way…"
"Of course not! I think you hit your head way too hard yesterday and now you're imagining stuff" Dean said, looking down at his croissant.
"No. The things you said back in the alley, you weren't pretending any of that. Those weren't lies. I know you, Dean"
"You don't know me, Sam… We are brothers, hell, we've spent almost our whole lives together! But don't say you know me, 'cause you don't" Dean got on his feet and started walking towards the door.
"Dean, stop. Alright, maybe I don't know you that much. But, I've seen the way you are around him; how you look at him, how he looks at you, and… "
"Let me stop you right there, okay?" Dean interrupted holding up his hand, he turned around and faced his brother. "I don't feel anything for Cas. He's a freaking angel, he saved me from Hell, and I'm grateful for that…"
"Even though you've never thanked him…"
Dean glared at Sam, disapprovingly. He shook his head and continued, "But I don't feel anything, anything, beyond friendship"
"Are you sure? I'm not judging you. I just want to make sure you realize this before anything happens…"
"What could happen?"
"Ah…"
"Nothing! Nothing happens because I'm not gay!" Dean exclaimed.
"I'm not saying you're gay! I'm just trying to understand…"
"Well, stop trying! If you 'trying to understand' means I'll get drowned with questions about my preferences, then I pass"
"Dean, come on! It was just a silly question. Let's forget this, okay?" Sam sighed.
"Oh, sure. Nothing happened. Don't you worry your pretty little head!" Dean replied, and accidentally crashed into the small table with the vase while trying to leave. The vase staggered and, before any of them could do anything, fell. It was mere inches from touching the cold white floor, when it floated like a paper sheet and placed itself back safely on the table.
"For God's sake, could you please keep it down?" a rough, deep voice asked.
The brothers froze for a few seconds (that seemed eternal) and turned their heads towards the bed, where Cas was frowning.
"You're awake" said Sam.
"It would seem so"
"Um, Cas… how much of our conversation did you hear?" asked Dean.
"All of it" answered Cas, sincere as always.
Dean sighed and muttered, "Great"
"Have you anything to say about it?" Sam asked.
"I say there's no time for this. Beelzebub won't stop until he gets what he wants…"
"Beelzebub? Is that the loony's name?"
"Yes, Dean. It is"
"I'll call Bobby" said Sam, but before he could even take a step towards the door Dean practically ran out of the room, saying, "I'll call him!"
"So, Cas, now that Dean is gone will you tell me what you think about what we were discussing?"
"I believe there is nothing to be said or done, Sam"
"Right, maybe we should call a nurse"
"If you must"
Sam pressed the nurse button and soon a woman on her early forty's appeared, she took Cas vital signs and asked him some questions, which he responded truthfully. She was impressed by his fast healing, and assured them he would be able to leave pretty soon. It was quite the opposite when Doctor Connelly arrived; he was surprised as well, but couldn't believe Cas was getting better by the minute and wanted to examine his injuries again, check his abdomen wound and keep him in the hospital for another day. He seemed to find his extra-fast healing process suspicious instead of miraculous. Good thing Dean wasn't there, he sure would've made a fuss.
The doctor left ten minutes later. Cas closed his eyes, but didn't fall asleep, and Sam picked a book from a shelf next to the couch. They were surrounded by a comfortable silence, which wasn't broken until Dean returned.
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Dean ran out of the room, pushing a nurse walking down the hallway on his way out. He apologized and slowed down. He had to leave the room, it was just too awkward. Why did Sam think he felt something for Cas? It was ridiculous. He had said a couple things, he wouldn't deny it, but that meant nothing. Anyway, he would think about this later. Now, down to business.
He pulled his phone and dialed the well remembered number. After two rings Bobby Singer answered. Dean just said one word, 'Beelzebub', and heard Bobby sigh. It was a sigh that meant he knew something was really bad.
"You know anything 'bout this son of a bitch?"
"I do, but I can't tell you this over the phone. In which hospital are you?"
"Nebraska Medical Center, in Omaha. ICU, room seven"
"Right. I'll be there in a couple of hours"
"Thanks, Bobby"
The line went dead and Dean kept walking, he didn't know where he was going, though. He got lost a couple of times, reaching dead-ends. He walked maybe half an hour, until he found himself in a backyard; full of noisy children that, apparently, didn't run out of battery and were, therefore, left in the yard to play. All except one. Dean recognized the kid, it was the boy from last night, the one with the parents and the sick granny. He was sitting alone on a swing set. Dean approached him and sat on the other swing.
"Hey buddy, mind if I sit here?"
"No problem" the boy replied.
"What's your name?"
"Thomas. Who are you?"
"Name's Dean. Why aren't you playing like the other kids?"
"I'm not like the other kids, and I shouldn't be talking to you" Thomas looked around and then at his feet.
"Why would you say that?" asked Dean.
"Leave me alone, please" Thomas looked at Dean with pleading eyes, "No one wants to be with me"
"It's gonna be okay, kid. Your Granny will get better" Dean knew he was lying. Thomas' grandmother could get worse, or even die, but right now it seemed like an adequate thing to say.
"It's not Granny I'm worried about, it's my dad. He abandoned us this morning. Left me and mom all alone, I don't know where he went. And I'm so angry with him" Thomas scowled and his attention was captured by a beautiful butterfly passing by. The boy glared at it and, suddenly, the butterfly fell, right in front of his little feet. The tiny wings started to burn, and the fire consumed the poor insect.
Dean felt his jaw drop, but quickly composed himself. What was this kid?
"You see, Dean, I'm not a good kid. It was my fault that Granny fell down the stairs. And I bet I'm the reason why Dad left"
"Why is your granny's accident your fault, Thomas?"
"It wasn't an accident! She scolded me for not doing my homework and I wished she fell, and she did. But I swear, I really didn't want it to happen" Thomas had started to cry.
"Thomas, trust me, it wasn't your fault" he was lying again. If the kid had burnt the butterfly to death, then he could be well damn capable of pushing his granny down the stairs. Dean smiled at Thomas and got up, he walked out of the yard.
It was easier to find the way back to the room than he had thought. He passed through the urgency wing and everything looked exactly the same as last night, but one thing caught his eye. A drawing, Thomas' drawing, was still on the table where he had been playing by himself. He wasn't expecting what he saw on the colored paper. There was a boy (looking a lot like Thomas), and a flight of stairs, from where a gray haired woman was about to fall. A doctor would call it PTSD, but a hunter, seeing the things they see; and Dean, after watching what Thomas did to the butterfly, wouldn't think it was PTSD. Specially if the boy in the drawing had black eyes, as dark as coal.
Dean folded the paper twice and put it in his pocket. He checked his watch as he walked to Cas' room; Bobby would be there in less than thirty minutes. He had lost track of time while wandering around. Dean found room seven and entered without knocking. Sam was halfway through a novel, and Cas was (or wasn't) sleeping.
"Here, look what I found"
Cas opened his eyes and Sam put the novel aside, getting closer to his brother. Dean showed him the drawing and then gave it to Cas. Sam looked confused. The angel sighed and rested his head back on the pillow; this meant what he had feared was true.
"Where did you find this?" asked Cas.
"Urgency wing. Last night a boy was drawing and left it there. Apparently, he mentally pushed his grandma down the stairs"
"How do you know that?" Sam looked at him.
"I talked with him. He burnt a freaking butterfly alive, with only his eyes!"
"You saw him do that. He's not human" Cas intervened.
"So, what is he?" asked Sam.
Right then Bobby arrived. He entered the room and stared at the trio, sensing something was wrong.
"Am I interrupting something?"
"Good, you're here. Now, please close the door. What I'm about to tell you can't be heard by no one but you three" said Cas.
"Yes, sir" Bobby mocked a salute.
Bobby shut the door and sat on one of the chairs; Dean followed, and Sam tried to get comfortable on the couch.
"This is gonna be a hell of a ride" Bobby said.
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A/N: Well, this is the longest chapter so far…
Thanks a lot for reading! I'll try my best to update soon, but I can't promise anything. School is about to start :(
It would be lovely if you left a beautiful review :)
-CLR