Hey guys, sorry for not posting this sooner, I haven't really been in the mood to write so this is probably going to be really crappy. Not much happens in this chapter. I'll try to get back in the mood but it's been a tough couple of weeks.
The first thing Castiel felt was a certain drowsiness that could only have been brought on by some hardcore drugs. His mind was foggy, cogs rusted and unwilling to turn. Unable to think clearly, he decided to try his body. Twitching a finger, much less moving his hand, was such hard work that it left him breathless.
Of course, breathing harder brought some feeling back to his throat and mouth. Which currently had a long tube shoved down it. Immediately his gag reflexes kicked in, pushing against the plastic tube down his throat. His body twitched against his own accord as he fought the feeling of trying to throw up and cough at the same time.
To say the tube was uncomfortable was an understatement, it felt like somebody took their very large finger and shoved it way down his throat. He hadn't yet opened his eyes, instead squeezing them shut as he gagged against the tube. Noises were surrounding him as his hearing turned back on, and he tried to listen to whatever it was.
It was hard, trying to focus on the noises when his throat was constricting painfully. The tube was miraculously slipping out then, Castiel coughing to try and get it out faster. Finally, once out of his mouth, he gagged again and tried to swallow. His voice was coming through the metaphorical shadows now, as it slipped into ears.
"Castiel. Castiel, you need to calm down. Castiel." He turned his head towards the sound, eyes still squeezed shut as he resisted the urge to throw up. "Please. Do not move." He was vaguely aware of his arms and legs being held down, hands pressed harshly into them. Moving his head, he turned and choked out bile as it came streaming out of his mouth.
A bucket was placed carefully under his head, where his mouth was, and caught the contents. A hand stroked through his hair, pushing back the sweaty locks from his forehead. His stomach gave one last painful heave as it emptied the non-existent contents into the tin. His body relaxed then, muscles unclenching and unmoving.
He opened his eyes, squinting against the burning light that immediately filled his vision. As he adjusted to the light, the shapes around him became more in focus. An older man with glasses and a snaggle-tooth was directly above him. He was wearing light blue scrubs and a cap that covered his head. He must be the doctor. Castiel focused on him, ignoring the other shapes around him.
The doctor raised a finger, Castiel's eyes tracking it as it was moved back and forth over his vision. "Good, Castiel can you tell me your full name?" He only stared up at the doctor, eyes wide and frightened. Nothing was coming to his mind, he honestly couldn't think of what his last name was.
What was it? His mind was slowly catching up to what was happening around him, the noises and flashes of light that would momentarily distract him. It was nauseating to focus on all that was happening. He tried to pick one thing to focus on, a deep voice next to him. It was familiar and soothing, wrapping Castiel in a comfort blanket.
He tried to turn his head but found that he couldn't, a wall of white foam blocking his movement. A neck brace was the words his brain supplied him. It wasn't a comforting thought to be in a neck brace, if he was that meant he was seriously injured. Castiel tried to lift his hand to reach out to the voice next to him but found that he couldn't.
His arm was also in some type of brace, a bar holding it in place. Panic filled Castiel's chest as he tested each of his limbs. They were all in a brace, being held still by a bar that connected to each other. He looked back up to the doctor, hoping his eyes portrayed his question.
"Yes, you are in a body cast, Castiel." The doctor spoke softly, hand coming to rest against Castiel's cheek. He flinched away, sensitive to being touched. He caught the doctors' eyes once more, staring up at him silently. "You were in an accident, Castiel." Why did he keep saying his name? He scrunched his brow, squeezing his eyes shut and wrinkling his nose.
Castiel. That was obviously his name, he knew that, but he still couldn't conjure the name to go along with it. The noises around Castiel quieted, moving away from him like a whispering ghost. Soon, it was just Castiel and the doctor, whom continued to watch him. He was uncomfortable.
"Do you remember the accident?" The doctor asked, eyes shifting between Castiel's face and the clipboard at his hip. Castiel looked down at his nose, mind drawing a picture of what happened. He remembered the pain, burning tears in his eyes, a sudden feeling of weightlessness. It wasn't enough, he wasn't sure why he was driving then. Something must have happened for Castiel to be so reckless.
Dean Winchester. The name popped into Castiel's head as he tried to remember the events that led up to the accident. Dean was the guy that constantly terrorized Castiel at school, calling him names and hitting him. He remembers the bathroom, finding out that Dean was his soul mate. That was impossible though, there was no way Castiel would be paired with the guy he feared.
He remembers how Dean broke down, throwing his body against Castiel in an attempt to make him stay. The wet tears had soaked through Castiel's shirt as Dean cried on him. The house with Sam and Charlie came next, and he thought of the poem Dean wrote. About him? Dean had come home and broke down again.
Castiel ran away from Dean, that's what caused the accident. He came back to his body, feeling the heavy weight that settled all throughout his body. There was no pain, just a dull ache that he felt to his bones. Where was Dean? Castiel looked up from his nose, staring up at the doctor with a furrowed brow. He didn't even try to open his mouth, knowing that it would feel like taffy had glued it shut.
"Mmmhph." Castiel rumbled, eyes hardening with determination. The doctor looked at him, pausing for a moment. He was obviously confused at the noise, probably not expecting Castiel to try to talk already. Castiel tried again, "mmeeeeeaaph" It was a pathetic attempt but it was better than nothing.
The doctor's eyes brightened as he realized what Castiel was trying to say. "Are you asking for Dean?" Castiel paused, annoyed that the doctor asked him a question that he obviously couldn't answer. "mmah." He huffed in annoyance, face clearly showing his emotion. "Oh, you can't talk." The doctor mumbled, ideas running through his head to help Castiel answer. "Okay, blink one for yes and two for no." He said, smiling like he was obviously proud of himself.
Castiel rolled his eyes, was this doctor even competent enough to be a doctor? He blinked once, blue eyes glaring up at the doctor. The doctor nodded above him, smiling softly as he stage-whispered, "I'll go get him."
He left the room, leaving Castiel in a crushing silence. The steady beep of the heart monitor was going to drive him insane. Time ticked on as Castiel waited for the doctor to return. Having free time, Castiel thought over all he knew about Dean Winchester. On the outside, Dean was a hardcore, no-love piece of shit that terrorized all small and dorky kids at school.
Dean was devastatingly handsome, so much so that even guys would fawn over his beauty. He was known for hooking up with girls and dropping them right away. He was 6 months past his birthday and yet a soul mate had not been presented. He had been in most everyone's pants and people never once called him a whore. Stereotypes.
On the inside though, Castiel knew Dean was as soft as a plushy teddy bear. He was gentle was Sam and all his true friends, like Charlie. He was a bit of a nerd and kept a certain artistic side hidden. He was goofy, had a weird music taste, and overall was an okay guy. And he was Castiel's soul mate.
It was Castiel's own fault that he got into this accident, it never would have happened if he had not run away from them. What was it that Dean said? 'I can't live without my soul mate; I can't live without you.' What if that was true? If Castiel rejected Dean, how would he take it? How would Castiel feel? Before this week, he couldn't imagine living without his soulmate. It almost never happened.
Whatever was going to happen, Castiel couldn't solve it in one day, and especially not without Dean. Speaking of Dean, where was he? The doctor has been gone for some time now. He was supposed to come back with Dean and yet they were not here. He looked up at the clock that hung on the wall. It was well past midnight, perhaps Dean was not even here.
If that's the case, he had hoped the doctor would at least come back to tell him that. He waited, fiddling with the blanket on top of him. Listening to the footsteps outside his room, he wondered if any of them would be Dean. He watched the door, eyes half lidded with sleepiness.
Sleep was overcoming him slowly; it began to weigh heavily on his bones. He must have been pretty drugged up, because usually he found it very hard to sleep in hospitals. He licked his dry lips, closing his eyes and nestling into deeper into his pillow. Perhaps just a nap before the doctor came back?
Yeah, that sounded nice. He would talk to Dean later, right now, he was going to sleep. It was nice to just lay back and Zzzzzzz….