AN: Even longer chapter here, folks. Told you I'd upload it today!

For people who don't know about the Zimbio poll: Basically an online shipping poll that Destiel is in the final round for. It's about to close, and we're only just in the lead. Link: www . zimbio brackets / TV + Couples + March + Madness + 2014

I hope that works, just delete the spaces I've put in the URL.

Sorry, here's chapter four!

EDIT: Okay so I was rereading to check my continuity and I realised that I'd put Pamela Barnes in here as a random nurse and then as his friend in the next chapter. So the nurse is now Cassie. Enjoy!

Chapter Four

Castiel was soon back with a nurse, who smiled cheerfully at him as she checked his vitals.

"Good to see you awake, Mr Winchester," she said, and Dean frowned.

"What the hell happened? Why am I here?"

Castiel and the nurse stared at him.

"What do you remember, sir?" she asked carefully. Dean's brow furrowed.

"I remember getting drunk. I remember seeing Alastair and Azazel. And….." he hesitated for fear of sounding insane.

"And?" the nurse prompted.

"Was there like….an angel or something there? I remember blue," he said, and Castiel flushed red. The nurse looked from one man to another.

"Well from what I understand, your boyfriend here was passing by and saw what happened. He took them out and then called the cops and an ambulance, and stayed with you the whole way here. He's been here every day, you know, bringing in your fanmail."

"Oh, I'm not-"

"He's not-"

"We're not together," the pair of them said, refusing to look at each other. The nurse raised her eyebrows, and Dean cast his eyes around. It was then that he noticed the cards that were arranged on his bedside table, all saying variations of "Get Well Soon!" He supposed that was what the nurse meant by 'fanmail'.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my mistake." The nurse – Nurse Robinson, her nametag read – said. "Mr Winchester, when you arrived we were forced to pump your stomach. We also had to treat you for multiple lacerations upon your torso, stop internal bleeding caused by rib fractures, and set your fractured knee."

Dean went pale. "How long have I been here?"

"Two weeks. You were unconscious upon arrival and had to be resuscitated, before becoming comatose for a fortnight."

Dean had a sudden flash of memory – the wailing of sirens, his lungs constricting, low voices quietly asking one another what the chances of survival were. The thing that stood out the most, though, was the memory of a voice that sounded as if it gargled with gravel every morning, screaming at them to keep him alive goddamnit or I swear I will kill all of you just keep him the fuck alive.

He looked at Castiel, who was staring determinedly at a blank patch of space on the ceiling.

"Um, thanks," he told the nurse. "So am I just….gonna be here for a while?"

She smiled sympathetically.

"Yes, unfortunately. We just need to keep you here to ensure full recovery. Should be two more weeks, considering your speedy improvement already."

"What about my classes?!" Dean tried to sit up, but was restrained by the various equipment connected to him. "What about the assholes that did this to me?! I've been here two weeks and that's two weeks too long!"

"Dean," Castiel finally said. "I've been taking care of your classes. The school understands, and you've been on paid leave the whole time you've been here. The police arrested the men who assaulted you, and their trial is soon. Please, relax and allow these people to do their jobs."

"Why the hell do you care?" Dean shot at him, partially out of anger, but also out of genuine curiosity. Castiel blinked.

"I…..I'm not sure. Your Uncle, Robert Singer, has been here a lot. I….I should probably go now. I'm glad you're feeling alright, Dean." And Castiel swept out of the door, leaving Dean even more confused. Nurse Robinson gave him a tight smile and finished ensuring that he was properly connected to the various machines next to him, before exiting the room. Dean lay in bed for a while, feeling helpless, confused and angry, before exhaustion took him and he slipped into a natural sleep.

Once more, Dean was dreaming. There were flashes of bright blue, mixed with the sensation of being safe and warm, before coalescing into a room filled with soft light.

Dean looked around. He was lying across his old, worn couch, his head resting in someone's lap. He looked at his substitute pillow, and saw a pair of faded jeans. Registering the long, nimble fingers running through his hair gently, he looked up into a familiar face.

"You're awake! This is surprising, last time we watched this, you fell asleep on me."

"Who says I wasn't sleeping?" Dean teased, pulling Castiel down for a gentle kiss. The two parted, smiling, and Dean turned his attention to the television, which was playing War Horse.

"You do know you'll cry like a baby, and I'll be the one that has to make you tea and then coddle you the rest of the night?" he asked, amused. Castiel huffed and continued to play with Dean's hair, effectively silencing him as he gently began to massage the back of his neck and head.

"Yes, but you enjoy it," he said. "Also, Bobby and Ellen are going to be here tomorrow with Jo, so you're going to clean the kitchen while I try and make the living room semi-presentable."

"Okay," Dean muttered into Castiel's lap.

The two of them sat there, and Dean closed his eyes in contentment.

Dean awoke to a dark hospital room. Looking out the window, he saw the sky dotted with stars. He checked the clock next to him.

3:00am

He sighed as he recalled the dream - domestic bliss with the guy who hated him, but had saved his life and been there every day with his comatose self for a fortnight.

I am so screwed.

Bobby showed up around noon the next day, arms folded. Dean instinctively shrank back into his pillows.

"Uh, hey Bobby."

"Don't 'hey Bobby' me, idjit!" Bobby snarled. "Seriously, Dean? You go to the worst possible place in town, the place where Sam met those dickheads, and then you get shitfaced just so they can beat the crap outta you? The hell were you thinking, boy?"

Dean winced, before staring stonily into his lap.

"I was thinking about Sam okay? I was thinking about how he looked when I found him, and about how everyone goes. I was thinking about how no one gives a shit anymore."

Bobby exhaled heavily and sat down.

"Don't be so thickheaded, Dean. I care. Ellen cares. Your kids care. And that friend of yours cared one hell of a lot by the looks of things."

"What?"

"That Novak guy? Every damn day he was in here, watching you and talking to you. For at least two hours. He brought those cards from your students, he brought in his work so he could grade papers while he sat here with your boring, unconscious ass."

Now Dean was more confused than ever.

"But…why?"

"Don't ask me, I can't see the fun in that. But he did. So don't you dare say no one cares, because a helluva lotta people do!"

The two of them sat in silence for a while, and Dean felt himself grow more and more ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Bobby."

"Good," Bobby said gruffly, and Dean knew that he was forgiven.

Bobby left an hour later, after catching Dean up on everything that had happened – Bobby had taken care of Dean's practical classes, while Castiel and Lisa had covered his theoretical. Dean was shocked (Novak hated him! Why was he being so nice?!) – and Dean had complained at length about having to stay in bed for another two weeks.

"Two weeks! I'm gonna get fat!" he moaned, pinching his stomach. Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Your addiction to pie is what's gonna get you fat, boy, not bedrest."

"You shut your mouth about pie! It is a glorious creation and that is blasphemy!" Dean cried, pointing at him.

By the time he left, Dean was in a much better mood, and he absently twiddled his thumbs.

There was a knock on the door, and his eyes widened as he looked up.

Castiel Novak stood in the doorway uncertainly.

"Castiel?"

"Hello, Dean. Is it ok if I come in?"

"Um, sure man, have a seat." Dean's mind spun as he searched for a reason as to why the man was here. "What's up?"

Once more, Castiel wasn't looking at him, and Dean was really missing the feel of those blue eyes upon him.

"I feel I should apologise. I was in here regularly without your knowledge, and this was an invasion of your privacy. I'm sorry."

Dean couldn't help it – he gawked at Castiel.

"Dude, you have nothing to apologise for. At all. You saved my life! And you've been covering my classes. I can't even begin to thank you enough, especially since you hate my guts. You're awesome, and I'm the one that's sorry for being such a dick to you. Can we….can we start over?"

Castiel finally looked at him, and Dean was rendered speechless by the hue of his eyes.

That blue…shit.

"Of course, Dean. I would like to start anew with you. As for 'saving you', I simply did what any decent human would do, don't thank me. I am glad that you are recovering, and I won't bother you again if you don't want me to."

Dean was the one forced to look away this time, as he mumbled, "Nah it's cool, you can come visit me still…if you want, like, that'd be awesome. I'd like it. If you want."

There was a silence, and then Castiel spoke softly.

"I would like that very much, Dean." They smiled at each other, and then a thought struck Dean.

"Wait, isn't your boyfriend pissed that you're always coming here?"

He noted the way Castiel stiffened at that, and hastily added, "I'm not trying to be a dick or anything, I'm actually genuinely curious."

"Balthazar and I….are no longer together." Castiel said stiffly. There was a strange leap in Dean's stomach, which he quelled.

"Can I ask why?"

"He found the affections of young females more enjoyable than my company. He has gone back to England, and our house has been sold." Castiel was now looking at where Dean's hands had stilled after fiddling with his blanket.

"Well, he sounds like a complete asshole. You're well shot of him."

"Yes. I was planning on suggesting we take a break before I found him mid-coitus, but he made his standing on our relationship perfectly clear. He will not be missed." Castiel said, and he smiled at Dean – the first genuine smile Dean had seen on his face. Dean smiled back, and then they just smiled at each other until Dean realised it had been a full minute and he looked away awkwardly.

"So, where are you living?" Castiel shifted at the question.

"When I am not here or at work, I'm staying at the motel down the road."

"You can't do that! This is gonna sound really weird, but do you want to stay at my place? I'll give you a key and you can set up there. It's kinda messy and probably dusty because no one's been there in two weeks, but it's free living and I kind of owe you a shitload."

"Dean, you don't have to-" Castiel protested, but Dean cut him off.

"If you don't, I'll set my Uncle Bobby on you. You can have the guest room. There's…..a bunch of stuff in there you'll have to move though, sorry," he said awkwardly, but Castiel was beaming.

"That is very kind of you, Dean. Thank you very much. If it's all right with you, I'll stay until I find another place to live."

"If it wasn't okay with me I wouldn't suggest it. Don't sweat it – we can carpool and shit to work when I'm outta here, your car is a piece of crap, dude." Dean gave a crooked grin in return.

"I'll just…go start moving my stuff then?" Castiel stood, and the moment was gone.

"Yeah, sure! Bobby'll have a key, I'll call him from here and let him know you're coming. You know where Singer's Auto Shop is, right?" Dean said as he reached for the bedside phone.

"Yes, Dean, I know where it is," Castiel replied in a tired voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He left the room, and Dean dialled. The phone rang a few times until Bobby's familiar gruff voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey Bobby, you know how I can be really awesomely spontaneous in the most endearing way possible?" Dean said brightly. Bobby wasn't fooled.

"What've you done now?"

"Castiel Novak is on his way over. He needs a key to my apartment – he's moving in."

"Dean….."

"I'll talk later!" And Dean hung up, letting the full weight of what he'd just done hit him.

Castiel Novak is going to be living with me.

Holy shit.

He looked back over at the cards next to him, and began to read them.

AN: I would've had this up sooner, but I got a review for a oneshot I did - "The Feeling's Mutual" - and I had to add to it because of what the review said. And if you're the one who reviewed on it and you're reading this, I wish I could properly respond to what you said. Because you are awesome, and you made me smile and I am so glad I was able to help in some small way.

Sorry for rambling, here's responses to reviews on this story! So many.

family-and-free-will: WOOHOO. And you can vote multiple times by opening it (if you're using Chrome) in an incognito window, voting, then closing and re-opening it to vote again :)

katie1689: The answer to your question is above haha. And I know, sorry Dean :/ he has a lot of shit to deal with.

ill-interrogate-the-cat: You don't have to wait anymore!

Maggie: All of your reactions were perfect and made my day. And as to the character you requested - he will most likely show up at some point because I love writing him :)

MariMagda: Castiel is his angel :3 and more on Sam will be shown soon! I'm proud that I can get that kind of reaction out of someone, because it's kind of how I pictured it.

Thanks! Until next time!