Chapter Six

The room was quiet except for the occasional beep from the bedside monitor and Sam's obnoxious snoring. Dean's body was stiff and aching as he stared out the small window in the room, watching cars pass in the narrow drive below and blinking rapidly to fight off sleep. He'd been awake since lurching out of his coma that morning and – though he'd rather die than admit it out loud – he was afraid that falling asleep meant two more weeks trapped inside his own head.

Dean bit back a yawn, his ears popping with the force of withholding the action, and ran a hand through his hair. Judging by the new rotation of nurses and the three hour pattern of their shifts, - damn his father and the military level observation skills he'd bestowed in his sons- it was close to three a.m. Dean sighed, knowing there was no way he would sleep if he was still awake at this hour.

Cas shifted against his side, and Dean was reminded of the younger mans presence for the first time since he had fallen asleep sometime around nine that night. The way Cas' arm tightened around his waist, dark hair tickling his throat, made Dean's stomach twist with happy nerves; it had been a long time since he had Cas' comforting weight pressed into his side, and an even longer time since he had felt this safe- and this sick.

Cas should be fuming, in all reality. He should be harboring a grudge, or avoiding Dean at all costs; he shouldn't be using Dean's chest as a pillow and gripping his shirt like a lifeline as he slept. There should be so much hate and intolerance in Cas' eyes that it made Dean cringe and shy away, but all the older man could find in those deep blue pools was loyalty and commitment that had him leaning closer any chance he got.

It was all a fault of the amnesia- of the stroke- and, as selfish as it was, Dean hoped that Cas never regained his lost memories. Beside him, Cas went momentarily rigid before relaxing once more, as if hearing his lovers treacherous thoughts.

Dean tensed, pressing a worried hand to the sleeping boy's forehead as he went stiff a second time. Was it a seizure, another stroke? Dean was a moment away from calling a nurse when Cas' eyes fluttered open.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean frowned at the throaty sound of Cas' voice, and the feverish light in his eyes as he sat up and experimentally flexed his fingers. He seemed almost surprised when the digits followed his commands.

"Hey, Cas," Dean replied carefully. "You okay?"

"Cas? Is this a term of endearment for Jonathon?"

Dean went stiff all over. He'd been waiting for this since he woke up; for the 'angel' from his dreams to take residence in Cas' body. Shuffling to the side, Dean put an inch or two of space between himself and his bedmate. Nothing in the boy's body language was the same as it had been when Cas was the only one in there; the blue eyed angel held himself with a stiff posture, and a confident expression. His eyes were clear and not a tremor of fear was present.

Sam stirred as Castiel moved off the bed, and Dean was grateful when his little brother did not wake.

"Where have you been, huh, feathers? He's been up for a day now," Dean huffed. What business did a freakin' angel have asking about his pet names?

"Jonathon has been… Less than receptive to my attempts to inhabit his vessel," The angel explained, gazing down at his toes in wonder as the digits wiggled. Dean couldn't help but compare the angelic soldier to a small child taking his first steps; he wondered how long it'd be before he fell on his face.

"Yeah, he can be a stubborn bastard when he wants to be," Dean chuckled, thinking back to all the arguments in which Cas had set his jaw and kept at it until he had gotten exactly what he wanted; shy as the boy was, he could make a brick wall crumble just by talking it down.

"So it would seem," The angel agreed, carrying himself on shaky legs to the door. Dean frowned, climbing to his feet and ignoring the way his head spun as he hurried to catch the angel by the arm and pull him to a stop.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I have important work, Dean." The angel was pouting, Dean swore it- that little jutting lower lip that he had always adored on Cas.

"Yeah, well, you can't just walk out of a hospital- not after being in a coma for a few years," He reasoned, shaking his head as he tugged on the angels arm; it was like trying to move a ton of rocks- pointless.

"I have not been in a coma," The angel stated, puzzled.

"But Cas has," Dean rolled his eyes; was he dealing with Heaven's stupidest? "And his brother is coming to get him in the morning, so how do you think it's going to make him feel when I have to explain Cas' body was hijacked by an angel?"

"You are a skilled liar, Dean," Castiel informed, slipping his arm out of Dean's grip. "You will think of an explanation."

Dean set his jaw, considering his options. He could lie to Gabriel, but the guy had been put through enough the past few years; there was no telling what he would do if the little brother he'd only just gotten back disappeared. Not to mention, Dean might drive himself crazy wondering what the angel was doing in his boyfriend's body- he had, after all, read the bible; some angels had a certain fascination with human woman, and Dean couldn't be sure whether or not Castiel was one of them.

"Screw explanations- I'm coming with you," He sighed, padding barefoot to his duffel in the corner – bless Sam for thinking to bring him his things – and digging in the bag for clean clothes.

"That would not be wise, Dean." The angel tried to reason, his brow creasing. "You're still unwell."

"I've made it through a fight with a pack of werewolves and a concussion," Dean shrugged, pulling the hospital gown – starched and itchy – over his head; Cas had seen his body plenty of times, so there was really no reason to bother with privacy even with Castiel in Cas' body. He shimmied into his boxers and turned the face Castiel as he stepped into his jeans. "I don't think a little post-coma shaking will be a problem."

"This is not a hunt, Dean," Castiel glared, his eyes flickering to the clasp of Dean's jeans as they snapped closed; oh, Dean smirked, Cas was definitely still in there. "My work will be dangerous and potentially life threatening."

"Well, I've died before," Dean grumbled, pulling a shirt on over his head and combing his fingers through his wild hair as he recalled a hunt in Illinois four years back that left him hospitalized for six months, and in need of a AED twice during that time; he could still remember the fuzzy image of a reaper, taking hold of his hand before he came lurching back to life. "What's one more time?"

"What about your brother?"

Dean stopped, one arm through the sleeve of his jacket as he glanced at Sam where he was sleeping through the conversation, slumped in his chair. His heart gave a painful squeeze at the thought of leaving him behind, but he put up an indifferent front. "Yeah, what about him?"

"Aren't you in the middle of a legal battle to obtain his custody?" Castiel questioned, standing with his feet slightly apart and his hands behind his back; a soldier in wait of orders, or questioning them.

"Yeah," Dean admitted grudgingly. "But when it comes to having custody of my brother, or letting you waltz off in my boyfriends body… It's not a hard choice." He spared a guilty look at Sam as he zipped his jacket up just below his chin. "Besides- he'll be eighteen soon enough. He can last another year or two; he's a tough kid,"

Castiel watched him, head tilted to the left in his curiosity. Dean ignored the angels stare as he zipped his duffel closed and swung the bag over his shoulder, fishing his car-keys out of their place in the pocket of his jacket; good thing Sam hadn't moved them. He started towards the door and stopped when Castiel made no move to follow.

"What?" He demanded gruffly.

"Neither of us is wearing shoes," Castiel pointed out, motioning to Dean's bare feet. The hunter shrugged as he wiggled his toes against the cool linoleum floor.

"There aren't any shoes in my bag, and Gabe didn't leave any for Cas… So you'll have to deal until I can drop us by the Novak house and get you something," Dean sighed. "I doubt the nurses will notice we aren't wearing shoes if they catch us,"

"If they catch us?" Castiel raised a curious eyebrow and Dean chuckled, motioning the angel to follow him as he opened the door.

"Yeah- we're going to have to sneak out. They won't just let two patients leave," Dean explained to his incompetent partner as he glanced up and down the hall. A glance at the clock told him there shouldn't be anyone walking back this way in the next five minutes, but there was always the risk of a broken schedule.

Dean slipped out of the room, Castiel following quickly and silently behind him as they padded down the hall, reaching the stairs with no problem. Dean held the door open, motioning Castiel to go in first before he followed the angel into the stairwell and closed the door behind himself. The concrete was frigid under his feet but he paid it little notice as he took the steps two at a time towards the bottom, duffel tucked under his arm.

The only sound in the stairwell was the echo of both boy's breaths and their bare feet slapping against the floor as they moved. Dean found himself longing to hear Cas' voice – to know that the boy he'd been missing for three years was alive and well… But he knew he couldn't; because Cas wasn't well. He was the freakin' vessel for an angel- he had a parasite in him, and Dean was the one who gave it permission to get inside.

It made him sick.

Dean shook off the darker thoughts as he reached the bottom of the stairs and shouldered the door open, stepping out into the chilly night air; he glanced at the bushes to his side on instinct, remembering his last view of them from his kneeling position on the ground, the acid taste of vomit lingering in the back of his throat. He shivered, pushing the memory away as he moved towards the parking lot. Common sense would lead him to believe that Sam would have taken him here in the Impala – damn the kid was great, knowing Dean wouldn't want to be hospitalized anywhere but where Cas was – and so he scanned the parking lot, Castiel standing quiet at his side.

Ah, there she was.

The Impala was parked in the back left corner of the lot, directly under a lamp and beside a security camera; it was the requirements Dean always had for overnight parking, to ensure she wouldn't be vandalized- and that he could figure out who it was, if it did happen. Castiel followed without a word as Dean moved towards the car, running a hand over her hood with a grin before moving around back and popping the trunk.

"This car… Jonathon has fond memories of it," Castiel's words surprised Dean and he hesitated before nodding, tossing his duffel in back and doing a visual check of his weapons before dropping the trunk and moving around to the front door.

"Yeah… You might not want to delve too deep into those memories," Dean warned as he swung open the driver side door, thrilling in its customary squeak.

"Why not?" Castiel asked curiously as he followed Dean's example and climbed into the passenger seat, looking curiously around the interior of the car.

"Cause I popped his cherry in the back seat," Dean stated bluntly, hoping to get some kind of reaction as the engine growled to life. "And unless you're into some kinky shit, you'd probably rather not see that."

"I don't understand that reference," The angel's brow furrowed as he stared at Dean and the hunter sighed, shaking his head.

"Course I'd get stuck with a virgin angel," Dean grumbled rolling his eyes. "Always knew God was a sick fucker."


IT'S ALIVE! I appreciate the concern, Guest, but no, I'm not dead.

I'm sorry for the gap between this update and my last; I have been absolutely swamped at school. Research papers and chemistry projects. All good fun, yeah?

This isn't the greatest chapter, but I wanted to give all you lovely little dears something for your troubles. Things are going to get more interesting, as we see Dean and Castiel beginning their quest together.

Poor Sammy. I'm sorry I left you behind baby. /3

Anyways... I'd just like to ask that you all check out my other Destiel story "Everything." It will probably be receiving a bulk of my attention now, seeing as it centers around cancer... My grandfather was diagnosed last month, which has been part of my lack-of-updates crisis. I do intend to write that as a salute to him, so, please, do read.

I'm also going to be (maybe) toying around with a Johnlock fic soon! Super excited for season three!

-CCW

P.S.: KEVVVVVIIIINNNNNNNNN! D: