"Cas, if you are going to hang around like some looney ex-girlfriend, you might as well help me with this problem." Dean pointed out as Cas tilted the left side of his head upwards as if he were listening to something beyond the walls and confines of the hospital room.
"Hush, Dean. I am listening for screams due to labor contractions."
Huh? La- "Labor contractions?" Dean sputtered and scrunched his brows together in dismay.
"Yes." Cas whispered. "When a woman is with child and nearing the end of the third trimester of her pregnancy, her ute-"
"Stop!" Dean bellowed as his hands flew towards the sides of his head to cup his ears. "Stop! Don't say anymore!"
Dean's outburst caused Castiel to tear away from his listening to eye the man in the hospital bed with weariness and…incredulousness.
"You fear the concept of conception and all of its divinity of nature and miracles." Castiel stepped closer to Dean's bed, towering over his charge.
"No!" Dean choked out a little too forcefully, a blush creeping over his bruised and freckled features. "I just don't like hearing about it. And why are you listening for…screams from some poor woman whose kid is about to split her open."
Slitting his eyes at Dean's ignorance on the beauty of motherhood, he spoke with a sense of haughtiness, "I suppose it is none of your concern."
Lips curling in a snarl, Dean snorted a "Damn right it isn't." Then Dean sighed. "So are you going to help me or not, Cas?"
"With Samuel?"
"Yes."
"I will have to see him first, but Dean, I fear under solid assumption there will be little I can do for your younger brother."
"Can't you just wave your hand and-"
"I'm flattered at your faith in my grace's power, Dean, but the human mind is a fragile piece of matter an angel of my hierarchy cannot tamper with. If I, or one of my brothers or sisters in my garrison, have received orders to alter a human's mind, we have to fulfill those orders with such precision and caution. If I chose to attempt to fix your brother's state of mind without orders from my superiors and made the slightest error, it may leave him…damaged."
Dean found an interesting piece of something on his blanket and stared at it with contempt. "Damaged?" He croaked out.
"Yes, Dean. He may become catatonic or have severe mental retardation."
"So this thing that happened to my brother…it's unfixable?"
"I don't know." Castiel admitted with hesitance. "Whoever or whatever did this knew what it was doing. It's powerful, undoubtedly. You can only hope that you find the catalyst."
A shaky hitched sigh escaped Dean while his free hand rubbed at his face tiredly. "What if I can't change him back?" He mumbled in his palm.
"Then you cannot." Castiel pointed out slowly and simply like he was talking to a child.
"What if he's stuck like this forever, Cas?" Dean's exhaustion mixed with the drugs formed a lethal concoction of teary eyes and imbalanced emotions. "He'll die."
"Then it will not be forever, Dean."
Dean wasn't listening. His babbling continued without an ounce of sobriety.
"The demons will hear about him and will come and kill him. And I'll fail, Cas. I'll protect him as long as I can, but I'll fail. I always fail. I couldn't save Dad or Jess or Mom…and Sam! I'll fail him, AGAIN! He'll die again a-a-and then I'll die."
Tears of despair streamed down Dean's hued cheeks. Castiel could feel the depressing emotions radiating off the being below him. While his charge babbled incoherently, he circled the bed so he stood next to Dean's side. Lowering two fingers, he was about to forcefully shove Dean into a sleeping state when- "AAAAAAAHHHHHH! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT, RIGHT THE HELL NOWWWWW, DAMMITT!" was heard outside of the hospital room.
Upon hearing the screams, a teary-eyed Dean sniffled, cleared his throat, and eyed the hospital door as if the heavy contraption had dissolved into tapioca pudding. When the screams dissipated, he slowly dragged his eyes to Castiel…who was not beside him anymore. Dean tried to push down the feeling of disappointment building up inside his stomach and chest. Geesh! It's not like he liked the dude anyway, and he couldn't help Sam. Cas didn't even like Sam, so who knows if he was lying or not?
Dean was almost positive Cas had not lied to him about reversing Sam's mental state, but so many things were scaring him enough to almost grow ovaries. If an angel couldn't fix his brother, what could? And what if Sam wasn't fixable? What if he stayed this way for the rest of his life? If Sam were to grow older, would his mind mature? Or would he stay thirteen in la-la land until the apocalypse broke the earth?
If Sam's mind were to mature with time, it'd almost be like re-raising his little brother all over again. And Dean was not stupid. He knew if that were the case, raising Sam now would be completely different than twelve years ago. Times were more dangerous at the present than they were in 1996. Both he and Sam had made a lot of enemies. Supernatural and not.
Regardless of what would occur, he knew it would not matter in the long run. He imagined Lilith sticking her nose up in the air and stealing a whiff. She'd know of Sam's condition before anyone could say 'Adinos, bitch!' Her and her posse would attack, and Dean would defend his little brother the best way his father taught him, but like he told Cas, he'd fail. Sam will die, and so will he.
Once again tears blurred Dean Winchester's vision. He blinked and squeezed his eyes shut causing the hot, salty droplets to latch onto gravity and slide down his cheeks. He was alone, so he let himself cry.
Dean's suffer-in-the-dark moment was short lived, however, once-
WHHHHAAAAAM!
Dean jolted in his bed and eyed the now open hospital door. The thing had been kicked open; he was almost positive he saw a boot attached to a leg.
Swallowing his fear of being in a vulnerable state, Dean tensed his muscles and wiped the wetness off of his face, putting himself on high alert and on defense. Despite being as high as a kite and bed bound, he'd give these sons of bitches hell.
Scrunching up his face in preparation for battle, he watched the intruder enter his room.
Or more like…stumble and fall with an echoing smack on the cold tile floor?
"Eeep!" Said the face planted intruder.
"Sam?" Dean exclaimed at his floor bound brother and sat up. His little brother whipped his head around and smiled sheepishly at him.
"Dean!" He scampered towards his brother clumsily, much like a puppy running on ice towards his master. "Are you okay? Oh, Dean! I was so worried when you came to see me and Ruby. You were coughing and-"
Sam gripped his brother's hand more to comfort himself than his beaten brother. Dean grimaced at the girly display of affection but decided against stealing his hand back. Sammy obviously needed this more than he did. Or so he told himself.
"I'm fine, Sammy." Dean grunted. "I'm more worried about you. Ruby gone yet?"
"Yeah, she left a little while ago." Sam watched as his brother sighed in relief at the news of Ruby's absence and wondered what the story was. He pushed that thought aside for now and put his full attention back on his big brother.
"But Dean," Sam hesitated and looked at his gigantic boots and briefly wondered how his feet got so big. How did he get so big? "I think it's time that we try to get a hold of Dad. I know you said he's busy with hunting, but he'd want to know what happened to you and that you were hurt really bad. And…Dean why are you looking at me like that?"
Dean's eyes wide and moist. He opened his mouth to spout off some lie when-
"What kind of rodeo clown circus you people runnin' here? If I wanna see my nephew, I sure as hell should get to see him. If his younger brother wants to see him, then he damn well can!"
"Sir, its policy-"
"You shove that policy up your ass. I'm gonna see my boy. If that doctor o' his ever decides to show up, he best be prepared to have words with me."
"Boys!" Dean and Sam jolted at Bobby's sharp tone when he popped his tattered ball-capped head into the hospital room. "Don't get comfortable. I have a feelin' we won't be stayin' long."
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