Bedeviling the Chipper

By: Maygin

Summary: "Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate." – Germaine Greer

Disclaimer: I am not making any money off of nor do I own anything supernatural… other than my roommate.

Hello: This is turning out a bit more angsty than I'd originally planned. However I think you guys are okay with that… or at least I'm assuming you are. Keep the reviews coming! They're the only thing keeping me from murdering some of my co-workers during the day.

CHAPTER 7

"Ugh." Dean's eyebrow lifted and his gaze shifted to the currently moaning occupant in the corner of the room. "Who the hell came up with these chairs?" Cal whined loudly as he carefully stretched his back out.

Dean sniffed, his cheek resting bored in his hand. "No one asked you to stay."

"Oh come on!" Cal looked more annoyed than insulted. "I mean seriously, what idiot thought these chairs were a good idea?"

"Jamie?"

"Now see, you wouldn't be saying that if you'd ever seen his apartment." Cal stood up and whined as he dramatically bent over, placing a hand on his aching back.

"Well let's just hope it never comes to that."

"Oh Dean… what that man can do with a color palate… mm-mm."

"No kiddin'."

Cal stood up straight finally with a sigh, ready to face a new day. "So what happened while I was out?"

Dean shifted in his chair, "Oh well Sam woke up so we decided to take a little walk around the wing- you know, get some coffee… some danishes," he gave a tilt of his head, "but then the doc showed up and made him go back to bed so…" He finished off pressing his lips together innocently.

Cal stared at him, his morning cheer vanished. "You're hilarious."

"Alright so I made up the part about the danishes."

"You know, you're gonna go to hell one day."

Dean almost chuckled at how much the delicate looking man sounded like a fearless, church-going grandmother… not that he knew any. "I'd almost prefer it right now over this."

Cal knew he wasn't talking about their conversation. "Is there still some coffee out there?" he asked already making his way towards the door.

"It's old."

"I'll make a new pot."

Dean heard the door close, and found the room quiet once more. Sometime in the night he'd suddenly tuned out the droning sounds of the life-support systems. He stared at the half-closed shades over the window; light was pouring through. He could just imagine the amount of life outside that single pane of glass. He heard the door behind him open again.

"Jamie is such a darling." Cal swayed elaborately back into the room, picking up the blanket he had kicked off and began tidying up. "He brought us some Ethiopia Sidamo coffee blend from Starbucks before leaving his shift."

"That Jamie… what a sweet-heart." Dean joined in.

"Don't knock it till you try it." He picked up the cards he'd started reading last night and started strategically placing them around the room.

Dean gestured impatiently, "Do I get any?" he asked, noticing the serious lack of coffee.

"This is a special blend Dean, it takes time to brew." Cal explained as if to a three-year old.

Dean's eyebrows raised. "He brought you a barista?"

Cal paused, a sly smirk on his lips, "Jamie and I have a special relationship."

Dean's hand flew up. "Just- stop… right there. Way more than I need."

Cal shrugged and placed a pink, lacey card on top of the life monitor. "I'm surprised you even know what a barista is."

"Yeah well Sam turned into a bit of a coffee dork at college."

"Ironic."

"How's that?" Dean asked disinterestedly.

Cal gave a small shrug as he hung a particularly overly-glittered card on the railing at the edge of the bed. "Well that just happens to be where we met."

Dean frowned in confusion. "Who?"

"Sam and me."

"You mean after…"

"Yeah." He started flipping through the stack looking for nicely decorated ones. "When he realized I could see him."

"So Sam turns into a ghost and the first thing he does is go to Starbucks?" Dean stated, clearly revealing how ridiculous he found that… and yet, so Sam.

Cal did his patented sigh and roll of eyes, "No silly. He was looking for you. He just happened to be passing by there and I almost ran into him as I came out."

"So what made you believe him?"

"Are you kidding me? Who can say no to a face like that!" he gestured ornately.

Dean rested his cheek on his fist, looking very bored.

Cal's shoulders slumped, "Okay so maybe some lady walked right through him and I freaked out a little."

"A little?" Dean's voice was flat.

"Hey, I'm gay. I'm supposed to exist with flare." He held up a neon orange and pink card with a clown on the front. Dean grimaced. Cal nodded in agreement and tossed the card into the trashcan.

"I'm surprised you didn't flare yourself into a straight jacket."

"Yeah well," Cal said sulkily, "Sam has a very calming affect on people."

"Now that I believe."

Cal flipped open another card near the bottom of the stack and suddenly his eyes widened. "Oh my gawd!"

"What?" Dean asked warily.

"This woman included a naked picture of herself!"

Dean sat a little straighter in his chair, a curious grin on his face. "Really?"

Cal held the picture up for him to see, "She's 84!"

Dean immediately looked away, all interest lost and feeling quite dirty.

"What has this society come to?" Cal mumbled, pulling out a light blue card and placing it on the bed table.

"So how did you find me? I mean, St. Louis isn't exactly a small town."

"Oh Sam knew exactly where to go. He said it was your right leg." Cal started reading a piece of note-book paper someone had included in their card.

Dean blinked widely, "Excuse me?"

Cal looked up, balling the note and tossing it in the trash. "You're right leg. He said it was slightly shorter than the left. So whenever you're just wondering around, not paying attention you tend to go right." Dean's jaw dropped and he stared incredulously. "He figured you wouldn't be in a very alert state of mind after… you know. So we just kept heading right in certain areas and ended up near the park." He shrugged. "And then he spotted you."

Dean stared at him in shock a moment more before suddenly lifting both legs and measuring them visually.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of you know. Actually most people have one leg that's shorter than the other, we just don't notice it." He informed.

"Did you notice it?" he asked worriedly.

"Oh hell no honey," Cal chuckled, "but I also haven't been following your ass around for the last 20 years." Dean looked down at his feet again, just to make sure. Cal's head tilted to the side a grin on his face. "Not that I wouldn't mind following your-"

"Coffee." Dean demanded loudly.

TBC…