Kelly almost never got sick when she and Cas were kids, maybe the occasional seasonal sniffles but never seriously sick, not even the flu.
It had made her eventual death when Jack was born even more of a shock.
Castiel remembered when he was nine and she was sixteen the rest of their family was down in bed with the flu and she was the one up perfectly healthy checking in on everyone and making them soup.
Jack had always been the same as his mother in that regard, Cas could count on one hand the grand total of sick days Jack had to take off school since kindergarten. He'd never so much as broken a bone up until this.
So why hadn't he been able to pick up that something was really wrong sooner?
He should never have brought Jack back to Lawrence. When they got the call from Sam the week before Jack was so excited. It had almost been hidden under apprehensive disbelief and the way he's anxiously couldn't meet Cas's eyes but Jack had been holding back an unsure smile.
His siblings wanted to include him in something...
Cas had a bad feeling about it from the start, neither brother had spared more than a passing glance at the boy since John Winchester's death. People didn't just drop back into your life after ten years as if they never left, there were always strings attached, always a catch, and he didn't want to subject Jack to that.
He even had a ready-made excuse, Jack was already grounded for the nonsense he pulled during his last world history test.
But... Jack had been so excited, and these men were his family, part of his past he rarely if ever got to interact with; and it was the anniversary of John death, Jack's father's death.
Jack was almost seventeen, who was he to keep him away? What would it do to their relationship if he did?
It had been a mistake.
The cough Jack seemed to be getting over after a week crept back up on him during the eight-hour drive and was only exacerbated by their first night in the hotel. And then they went to the graveyard.
He knew before Dean opened his mouth that they should have stayed home. The panicked look of shock on Sam's face was enough to tell him they hadn't really expected them to show up.
Was it just out of courtesy that he'd even called?
And now Jack was hospitalized a good few hundred miles from their home with god knows what.
He wished the look of rejection on Jack's face was something he'd never seen before, and maybe he hadn't, at least… never like that, never that terrible.
The ride back to the hotel had been so quiet, only broken by the occasional soft cough. Jack just stared out the window biting his lip like he was trying desperately not to cry. Castiel was afraid to say anything because if he accidentally said the wrong thing and Jack lost the tenuous hold he had over his tears Cas couldn't comfort him and drive at the same time.
He'd tried to talk to Jack as soon as they pulled into the hotel parking lot but by then the teenager's eyes had dried up. Jack didn't reply except to say his head hurt and…
"I just want to sleep," his voice was so soft and hollow.
Castiel let the subject drop, buying some Advil from the small hotel commissary and leaving Jack to curl up in bed. He didn't want to push him, not now.
"We should have never come…"
He kept repeating the words in his head over and over, more rapidly now with Jack propped up on his side in a hospital bed, Castiel holding the little pink plastic kidney dish a nurse had given him for Jack to spit the blood he kept coughing up into. A new doctor who'd introduced herself as Hannah listened to his breathing with a stethoscope through the open back of his gown.
It turned out doctors came a lot more readily when you weren't tucked away in the corner of a busy emergency room.
Cas's heart was beating almost as fast as Jack's on the monitor as he puzzled over the symptoms of the past two days. None of it made any sense.
Even the doctor looked mildly perplexed as she meticulously worked Jack over, whispering gentle platitudes to try and keep the teenager calm.
Jack was too out of it to really care, too drugged up and exhausted to really process the world around him. His normally clear and inquisitive blue/hazel eyes dull and wrong, it was enough to make Castiel feel sick to his stomach.
Samuel Winchester was still perched in a chair by the door like a giant nervous pigeon ready to fly off at the first sign of trouble. Balancing on the edge of indecision just like the evening before.
"It's your ridiculous dithering that got us stuck here."
Part of Cas wanted to tell him to just leave, follow his brother out, but every time he worked up the energy to tell Sam off Jack started coughing again.
There were more important things to keep his attention.
The doctor gently asked Jack to roll back to lying on his back and she began looking in his mouth and throat with a penlight and tongue depressor. Jack watched eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. Castiel set aside the little bloody basin and gently squeezed his hand.
She paused after a moment sitting back eyebrows and mouth tightening thoughtfully before she spoke again.
"I need to hear the timeline of events again…"
It took Castiel a moment to realize she was addressing to him, her eyes fixed on him expectantly.
Castiel cleared his throat, "from where?"
He'd let Jack rest for several hours after they got back to the hotel, sleeping through the worst of the headache and letting the pain medicine take effect. He only woke Jack at around eight PM because he thought it was important for him to have something to eat before resting for the night, especially since they were supposed to leave early the next morning to drive back to Indiana.
Maybe he should have noticed how quiet he was after what happened at the graveyard. Jack was an emotional kid, usually, when he was really upset he was either sulked pointedly or cried, now instead… he just slept.
Maybe he should have noticed how listless Jack seemed when he'd woken him up, but he'd pinned it on not having eaten since their early lunch and the stress of the day.
"The seizure, I need to know what happened with the seizure and directly before…" The doctor was saying with the same soft comforting quality in her voice that she used with Jack.
"We um…" Cas took a shaky breath.
They'd stopped in a little mom and pop diner for a late dinner, a small place with worn red vinyl booths and Americana icons like vintage road signs and old coke bottles propped up on high shelves. It was a familiar place that Castiel had sometimes met John at to pick up Jack for the weekends when he was little.
It seemed more comforting after the rough day than an ordinary fast food joint and it felt oddly appropriate considering the anniversary of John's death. He thought it might bring Jack's spirits up.
But Jack had just been quiet leaning his head in his hand elbow resting on the table, mumbling that he wasn't really hungry. He only ordered some french fries at Castiel's insistence that he should have something .
Castiel felt a pang of anxiousness pressing on his chest as he watched Jack slowly stir a fry in ketchup and nibble at the end.
"He seemed okay… I thought…" Castiel paused and shot Sam a glance he didn't feel like starting another argument in front of the doctor. "I thought he was getting over a cold and was upset because it had been a really stressful day. I asked him if he was okay…"
Jack had just shrugged not looking up, continuing to pick over his food, "I'm just not hungry."
"I meant about what happened earlier…" Castiel insisted gently, feeling like a terrible role model having barely touched his own food.
"It's fine," Jack unrolled his silverware from its napkin and started to experimentally cut off the outer crispy layer of a fry, not looking up at his guardian.
"I shouldn't be disappointed because I shouldn't have expected anything in the first place," he muttered harshly continuing to mangle his fries, "they don't owe me anything, I should have stayed home and studied for finals." He winced suddenly dropping the knife he was using and reaching up to rub his temple.
Worry rose in Castiel's stomach, "Is your headache coming back…?"
"Can I have my phone back?" Jack deflected to the tabletop.
"No you're still grounded," Castiel batted the misdirection away concerned, "Jack please, talk to me."
"I said I'm fine...!" Jack's voice came out harsh and cracked halfway through his elbow slamming down on the table.
He blinked and jumped like he'd startled even himself, Castiel was about to chastise him for yelling when he realized just how white the boy had gone.
"Jack...:" Cas said uneasily. Hesitantly he started to rise from his side of the booth, worry growing by the moment.
"No! ...I'm sorry I…" Jack winced again squinting for a moment looking confused, "I didn't mean…"
"I should have done something then…" Castiel muttered half to himself fiddling with the edge of the blanket the hospital lent him, he couldn't even look Jack in the eye now.
"I… I'm going to the bathroom…" Jack muttered slowly getting to his feet.
Castiel teetered for a moment hand resting on the edge of the table considering following the teenager.
"I… I thought he had a stomachache or something I didn't want to embarrass him…" Castiel tried to explain, feeling like he needed to justify his decision to the doctor and himself.
As the minutes passed though and Jack didn't return Castiel's worry grew to deep unease. Maybe whatever bug Jack had contracted was worse than he thought. He quickly pulled out the money for their food and went to find the men's room near the back of the dinner.
He tried the handle and realized it was a single stall when it didn't open, he heard no noise inside except a faucet running.
He knocked tentatively on the wooden "Gentlemen's" pig attached to the door. "Jack?" he asked cautiously, "Are you alright?"
There was no sound for a long moment, then suddenly, violently, there was a hollow bang and a muffled thud.
Cas's heart dropped into his stomach, eyes widening, "J-Jack!" he frantically knocked and getting no response began panickedly and uselessly twisting the handle trying to force it open.
"I ran to find someone," his breath sped up at the memory.
He rushed away from the bathroom grabbing some poor waitress by the shoulder asking desperately for the bathroom key and frightening her in the process. She thankfully understood his hysterical ramblings and went to find the owner.
Then Castiel was repeating the story to the man, voice shaking in panicked exasperation and they went quickly to unlock the door.
"I should have followed Jack.." Castiel found himself repeating.
There had been a strange soft noise through the door when they made it back to the bathroom, but he hadn't recognized it, he wasn't prepared for what he saw when the key turned and the door swung open.
Jack was on his back one arm crumpled beneath him, his entire body twitching and jerking violently against the tile floor the muscles in his face and neck painful tensed.
"Oh god, Jack…!" Castiel barely breathed rushing to his side, Jack's eyes were rolled back and unseeing and blood was trickling down the side of his head.
He yelled to the shocked owner to call 911, frantically pulling off his trenchcoat and folding it to place under Jack's head running over everything he learned in college and the high school's recent classroom first aid seminar. His hands were shaking almost as violently as Jack's body.
There was no sound except the strained harsh whimpering groan uttering from Jack's mouth and the still running faucet. The last eighty-odd seconds of the seizure that Castiel managed to count before Jack fell limp felt like an hour.
After it ended Castiel mechanically checked Jack's rapid pulse with shaking hands and pulled him onto his side into the recovery position.
It felt like days before the ambulance arrived.
The doctor's next questions mirrored those of the paramedics, and he was just as helpless to answer them.
"How long did the seizure last?"
"I don't know…"
Why wasn't I with him when it happened?
"What caused the injury to the side of his face and head?"
"I-I don't…"
Castiel took a shaky breath trying to center himself back in reality, it all felt like a nightmare, like it happened to someone else.
"I...I think he hit his head on the sink when he fell but I don't know. As for the seizure, I… I was only there near the end of it, and that was eighty-three seconds but he was in the bathroom for longer than that."
He could feel Sam Winchester watching, his mouth slightly open like he wanted to comment, maybe to try and say something reassuring, he didn't really care just felt vaguely irritated. It made him feel exposed.
He felt a hand on his arm shaking with the force of more coughing.
"It's… okay… I'm okay now," Jack tried to comfort him smiling blearily up at him from his hospital issue pillow blood still on the corner of his lip.
Cas smiled shakily back wanting to scream.
The doctor looked thoughtful searching through Jack's chart for information. "What happened after you arrived at the hospital…" she asked them carefully setting aside the clipboard looking disappointed with what she found.
Jack only regained consciousness after he was loaded onto a gurney to transport in the ambulance. Castiel didn't get to speak to him as he only managed to mumble a few answers to the questions the paramedics used to judge consciousness before passing out again.
He'd thought everything would be easier after they got to the hospital but after the initial buzz of the arrival and a quick physical exam of the barely conscious teenager, there were only a few promises about scheduling an MRI before they were left alone in an ER bay.
The place was buzzing with activity and noise on a Saturday evening, an apparent drunken accident involving a bunch of partying Kansas University students shoved beyond capacity into the back of a Chevy taking priority.
This time it was actually hours before another doctor came. A nurse stopped by every once in a while to check on vitals and then help put Jack's swollen wrist in a temporary sling. Jack's only major response to being touched was to clench his teeth and groan against the discomfort moving caused. Castiel felt ill, with everything else going on he hadn't even noticed the painful injury.
Jack didn't seem to mind the wait, the seizure had completely drained the last of the little energy he had to begin with. He'd laid terrifyingly limp and small on that hospital bed.
Cas eventually took to standing outside the bed's privacy curtain anxiously trying to get the attention of passing staff, most too busy to do anything but mutter vague platitudes about how the "doctor would be with them soon" before going about their way. He knew in hindsight it was probably rude and unhelpful but at the time he couldn't think straight, he felt as if Jack was rapidly slipping away from him.
"How long was it before you were seen?" the doctor's voice was soothing.
"It was…" he rubbed his forehead trying to concentrate, "just after midnight so… about three hours? There… there was a shift change, I think. A new doctor came on the ward…"
He remembered getting the attention of what felt like the hundredth person that night, a woman with curly hair in a doctor's coat with a lanyard that read Doctor Amelia Richardson.
"Ma'am please, my son," he always went with son in situations like this, not so much to usurp John's position, - as Dean might have accused him of - but because he was too worried and harassed to go through the 'nephew, uncle, legal guardian' talk over and over.
She seemed irritated at first sighing slightly before opening her mouth to start the same speech every passing ER worker had given him.
"Please, we've been here since nine, he's in pain, h-he…" she seemed to sense the anxious desperation in his tone and finally, finally listened to his babbling, alarm creeping into her expression when he got to the part of his speech about Jack having the seizure subsequent to him probably knocking his head into a bathroom sink.
"Apparently it was somehow confused on the initial report because I couldn't confirm when the injury happened," Castiel chastised himself.
"Shhh…" Jack mumbled tiredly patting his uncle's arm eyes half-closed, clearly starting to drift off to sleep again.
Doctor Richardson had quickly and quietly gone through the curtain to look at Jack, his heart rate elevated from pain and whatever was happening in his body, coughing shallowly and barely responsive to her prompts.
If she had been worried when Castiel mentioned the possible head injury-induced seizure she was absolutely livid when he mentioned that Jack had had a headache all of that afternoon and flu-like symptoms for the entire day. She was suppressing fury through gritted teeth when she'd confronted the lead doctor in charge of the ER.
"Well, I'm glad. I'm sure those college kids will be happy they were treated promptly when they find out they have to come back in because they were sitting in the emergency room with a kid symptomatic of meningitis for several hours…"
To Castiel's relief, things moved a lot faster for Jack after that.
"You shouldn't blame yourself for the inaccurate report, it was a traumatic confusing event," Doctor Hannah said kindly. "And Jack's MRI didn't show signs of brain injury or meningeal swelling so it's very unlikely what happened was caused by the fall or meningitis …"
Castiel nodded and sighed shakily. The information was bittersweet, he was glad Jack wasn't brain-damaged but at least either issue would be an answer, something the hospital understood and could treat.
Now Jack was coughing up blood… and Castiel was even more lost than before…
"I… have a theory about what might be causing this new symptom…" the doctor told him carefully.
Castiel's head shot up hopefully.
The doctor smiled kindly, before explaining, "the sides of Jack's mouth and tongue, there is evidence of cuts caused by his teeth either from the fall or biting down during the seizure," she hesitated, "there wasn't bleeding visible around his mouth in the paramedics' report."
Castiel was quickly beginning to question the competence of these specific paramedics, and the doctor's next words did nothing to help him stop questioning his own competence as a parent.
"Because Jack was unattended during a good portion of the seizure there's a good chance he swallowed blood… possibly aspirating… breathing it into his lungs."
There was a long pause, the possibility was terrifying but…
"So… so will he be alright?" Sam Winchester said the words Castiel couldn't bring himself to hope.
The doctor smiled sadly, "Aspiration can be dangerous, it can cause complications like pneumonia, and it doesn't explain the seizure itself, his increased heart rate, or the pre-existing cough… but if I'm right we can treat it quickly and hopefully avoid any more problems"
Finally, Castiel let himself relax.
"We're going to need to take him for a chest CT in a few minutes, and then a bron- … we'll have to look in his lungs to confirm," she explained gently.
Castiel looked back at Jack, his breathing was still labored but he had finally fallen back to sleep he hated that he'd probably have to be woken up again so soon for yet more poking and prodding.
"Can I… can I go with him?" Castiel asked quietly gently squeezing the boy's arm.
"Of course…" she said with the same level of cautiousness as before, like she was afraid one more reminder of Castiel's inadequacy as a guardian would push him over the edge.
At this point though, Castiel was beginning to feel numb. Like all the horror and anxiety of the last twelve hours had reached a peak before plateauing into a high distant hum.
"I'm not going to leave you Jack…" Castiel whispered to the sleeping teenager, "not again…"
Castiel followed Jack's gurney as a nurse came minutes later to wheel Jack off for scans and Sam was left alone standing awkwardly in the corridor.
He was a little vague on medical law having never practiced it but he was pretty certain they didn't let more than one family member stay with a minor for support during a medical procedure. And it wasn't as if he had the right or the gall to fight Castiel -the man who raised Jack- for the spot.
So instead he stood awkwardly in the corridor sheepishly juggling his phone between his hands and trying to make a decision on what to do next.
After his third strained smile to a passing nurse he decided coffee, coffee was a good idea, he set off in search of the machine he'd seen in a waiting area on their way in that morning.
'What the hell are you doing Sam ?'
He honestly wondered if he should be here at all, he felt like all he did was make things more strained. If he was going to insert himself back into Jack's - and by extension Castiel's - life like an unwanted splinter maybe he shouldn't do it when everything was already so tense and tender.
He sighed and let his self imposed mental abuse carry him all the way to the brightly lit waiting room.
He felt even more out of place amongst the anxious and tired huddles of various patients families. One exhausted woman was half asleep in one of the dull pink chairs as her two healthy children poked around scattered parenting and Better Homes and Gardens magazines.
The only person who stuck out worse than Sam was the man sitting beneath the food pyramid poster beside the vending machines, nursing his second cup of coffee that morning.
'Ah, so he didn't leave... '
Sam pointedly ignored Dean slipping a dollar into the coffee vending machine.
"You have to grab a cup off the top, the part that drops them is broken…"
Sam just grunted vaguely refusing to look at his brother but following his advice.
"So, what? You're just going to ignore me now?" Dean said hollowly, with no real bite in his words.
"What do you want me to say Dean," Sam still didn't look at him.
There was a pause and Sam heard him shuffle uncomfortably.
"Did anything… happen after I left?" He asked carefully.
"Oh yeah," Sam said thornily, jabbing his order into the machine buttons, "Jack started coughing up blood."
Dean snorted, "Sam I'm being serious."
Sam gave him a pointed look around the side of the machine.
Dean's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, "fuck man…"
"They took him for a chest X-ray," Sam muttered picking up his coffee and starting to walk off without another word.
"Where are you headed?" Sam heard Dean get up and follow him.
"Radiation lab," he muttered, he couldn't stay in the waiting room with those parents, it felt wrong and they were starting to shoot them dirty looks because of Dean's foul language.
"You're pissed," Dean noted.
Sam grit his teeth, it wasn't a question, it didn't deem an answer. Dean knew what he did. Sam didn't fit in that hospital room, but did Dean even try?
"Why are you even still here Dean," he said bitterly not slowing his walk back to the elevator bank.
Dean was silent, brooding, probably remorseful when they got into the elevator. Sam didn't care.
He was just like John like that. He did something shitty that hurt the people around him without thinking and then 'felt bad about it' when confronted with the damage later. Sam was sick and tired of it.
"Well fuck Sam," Dean said louder than necessary arms crossed exasperated, "what am I supposed to do!"
Sam turned to glare at him, "you think I know? We're all flying blind here but how about to start with not whatever the hell that shit you pulled was!"
His brother glanced around the metal box like he was searching for answers in the floor directory.
"Castiel shouldn't have lied…" Dean tried.
Sam snorted, "no shit Dean, but you're not six…"
Dean fell silent again as elevator doors popped open, not arguing with him, either knowing Sam was right or else not willing to prove him right by screaming in an open hallway.
"Fine, sure I just…" Dean sighed shoulders dropping and rubbing at his face, "I barely know these fucking people, maybe you're right maybe I should just leave…"
Sam was surprised by how fast the fight went out of his brother's voice. Part of him wanted him to escalate, wanted him to give him a reason to take all his anxiety and frustration at just one of the sources.
"Don't…" he found himself saying, breathing deeply trying to calm himself down, wasn't he supposed to be the younger sibling?
"Why…?" Dean asked flatly.
The answers floated foggily in Sam's perception. "We should be here, I think we owe that to them."
Dean opened his mouth to argue with him but seemed to quell his need to go off on a tangent, "yeah well, I don't think they want me here."
"Well be here anyway," Sam said dryly.
"And do what Sam, sit in the corner and… and look sad?" Dean said frustration and exhaustion clear in his face.
"Just be here Dean…" Sam found himself saying not even sure when it became clear to him. "If they ask for something… If they need something, be there…"
They both fell quiet after that standing outside the radiology lab. Sam sipping his lukewarm coffee Dean with his arms crossed seeming lost in thought.
They didn't have much time to brood though as one of the doors open and out came a harassed looking Castiel talking quickly on his phone.
He began pacing the hall.
"I… I'm sorry please can this wait until later… yes I know it's nearly noon…" he glanced up just long enough to spot Sam and Dean before looking quickly away, embarrassed.
Sam looked determinedly at the far wall trying to tune the conversation out, it didn't really work.
"I can pay, of course, I can pay for the extra day, you have my card… I… fine can you please just give me a few hours…" the man was biting his lip face tightening with stress.
"Until two?" He sighed frustrated, "no no I can get there, I can get there… just, leave the luggage alone..."
"Yeah… thank you to…" Sam heard the snide irritation creep into Castiel's voice.
Sam heard Castiel end the call and finally looked innocently up. The man was looking at them, fiddling nervously with his phone and looking unsure.
"What's up?" Dean asked nonchalantly. Sam blinked he wasn't even aware he was listening.
Castiel drew back into himself straightening his tie and composing himself, "Is there any taxi or bus service in Lawrence…?" He asked.
"What happened to your car?" Dean asked.
Castiel gave him a suspicious look for a long moment before answering a little sheepishly. "Because I'm an idiot, I rode with Jack in the ambulance."
"What did that guy want?" Sam asked cautiously.
Castiel sighed fiddling embarrassed again, "The hotel, we missed the checkout time this morning, I completely forgot about it with um…"
The sentence hung heavy.
"Do you want a ride?"
Castiel and Sam both stared at Dean like he'd grown a third head.
Dean shrugged and shot Sam a thin smile, "what? I'm being here…"
