"Dean!" Sam ran to him and fell to his knees beside him. "What the hell happened?"
"Abbadon happened," said Crowley. "I told you this would happen, didn't I Squirrel? So I went and found your runaway Moose. Thought you might want him here for your big angsty death scene."
"Cas, heal him," said Sam, desperately, ignoring Crowley completely.
"No," Dean said, grabbing hold of Sam's jacket. "He can't. He'll die." Sam didn't speak for a a few seconds, but he stared at Cas as though considering asking him to do it anyway.
"We need to get to a hospital," Sam said eventually, putting a hand on his brother's face, trying to keep him awake, but Dean's head had fallen limply on his chest. "Dean?" Sam asked, lifting his chin and trying to wake him. "Dean!"
"I tried to get him to the hospital," Cas said, "but he wouldn't let me."
"Who says he gets a choice?" Sam said and in one swift motion, he grabbed Dean's arm and pulled limp, bloody body over his shoulder. "Let's go."
"Sam I can't teleport," Cas said, struggling to his feet and looking ashamed. "I barely made it here in one piece. If I try to teleport with you, it could kill us all."
"Where's the car?" Sam asked.
"I don't know," said Cas. "But driving is too slow. He'll never make it to a hospital alive." The rain intensified, sheets of water falling from the sky and soaking in to their clothes. Fast running out of ideas, Sam looked desperately to Crowley.
"Oh, you must be joking," Crowley said. "I reunited you with your brother, you can't possibly expect me to chauffeur you to the bloody hospital as well. I'm the sodding King of Hell!"
"Crowley, we don't have time for this!"
"He's dying, Sam," Cas said, his voice cracking.
"Crowley!"
"Alright, alright," he snapped, grabbing a hold of Sam's arm. Through the rain, he looked over to Cas who was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. "You can walk to the hospital," he said. "I draw the line at angels." Cas nodded and took a few shaky steps forward, gripping the wall to stop himself from falling.
Crowley watched him flounder for a second before growling with frustration. "Oh for the love of Satan. Climb on, you impotent fairy." Cas looked unhappy to be accepting help from the demon that injured him in the first place, but gripped Sam's arm nevertheless and with a violent lurch, they were suddenly in the middle of a bright, noisy emergency room.
Several people gasped and looked around in horror at the four soaking wet men who had just appeared from nowhere. Cas could barely stand, Sam was covered in his brother's blood, Dean was hanging over Sam's shoulder, battered and lifeless, and Crowley stood quite calmly, apparently unaffected by any of it.
"I need help," Sam called. "Please, someone help." Two nurses and a doctor ran over to them, wheeling a gurney. Sam lowered Dean on to the bed and they swept him away immediately, talking seriously and urgently to each other. A second later, he was out of sight and Sam stood blankly in the big room, completely unaware of the looks of horror he was getting from the other patients. There was blood all over his hands, his neck, his chest. So much blood, was all he could think.
"Sir?" said a nurse. Sam turned and saw the blonde, middle-aged woman talking to Cas, who was swaying where he stood. "Sir, let's get you looked at."
"No," Cas said.
"You need help."
"No," he repeated. "There is nothing earthly medicine can do for me." The nurse looked confused.
"Sir... have you been drinking?" she asked tentatively.
"No. I suffered serious injuries after being banished to Heaven by this man," he said, looking at Crowley. "Then I fell through the atmosphere in a ball of flame and landed in a field." The nurse just stared.
"Cas maybe you should go get some rest," Sam said, grabbing him by the arm to support him. He glanced over to the nurse who looked like she was either about to call security or have Cas committed. "He's really drunk," Sam added. She just nodded and backed away from them, returning to her other, sane, patients.
"Okay, what's your angle," Sam said, rounding on Crowley suddenly, needing something to keep his mind off Dean.
"I haven't got an angle," he said, feigning indignance.
"Bullshit," Sam said loudly, attracting even more attention from the crowd in the emergency room.
"I don't have any ulterior motives here, Moosey," Crowley said, in hushed tones. "I could use some assistance in killing Abbadon and you are the only hunters who will work for me."
"Work with you. Not for you," Sam corrected. "And I wouldn't count on our help."
"Whatever. The bottom line is you're no use to me dead, so while Abbadon is around I could be convinced to help you from time to time. But once that bitch is dead, I don't give a toss what happens to any of you raging imbeciles. You can rot in Hell for all I care." Sam smirked as Crowley got increasingly more defensive about his actions. "Oh shut up," he said, evidently angered by Sam's expression. A second later, he had vanished.
Unwillingly, Sam turned to Cas and saw his own fear and panic reflected in the angel's eyes. "Cas," he said. "What if he dies?" They sat down on two uncomfortable plastic seats, side by side, both of them too scared to answer that question.
"This is stupid," Sam said, he stood up, walked a few paces and sat back down again, rubbing his cold, clammy hands together, trying to keep a hold of himself. "It's been hours. Someone should be telling us what's happening. Why isn't anyone telling us anything?"
"You are feeling helpless because you are usually in control of situations but at this moment in time there is nothing you can do for Dean because his fate rests largely on chance and the capabilities of his doctors. Therefore you are angry. Is that right?" Sam stared at Cas.
"Dude. What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to understand your emotional state. I was getting the hang of it when I was human but I didn't learn everything. Human emotions are very complex."
"You can say that again."
"Was I correct?"
"Yeah. I guess so," Sam said rubbing his face with his hands and pushing his long hair from his eyes. "I mean, I know we die a lot," he said, "but I still see Dean as bulletproof. He bounces back after everything he's been through… after everything I've put him through. I can't imagine him not bouncing back this time." Cas nodded slowly. There was something off about the angel. Usually so tense and serious, he was now slumped in his seat, eyes half shut. He looked human, but worse than that, he looked like a sick human. Just as Sam was thinking this, however, Cas snapped upright like a meerkat, staring down the seemingly empty corridor.
"Cas what's wrong?"
"There's a Reaper here."
"There will be lots of people dying around here," Sam said, reassuring himself more than anything else. "It won't be for Dean."
Before Cas had a chance to disagree, a tall, dark haired doctor was walking towards them. Sam went cold when he saw the expression on his face.
"Are you the one who brought in the stabbing victim?" the doctor asked.
"Yeah," Sam said, standing up. "What's going on? How is he?"
"He's out of surgery, but he sustained some very serious injuries. There's damage to his spinal cord, kidneys and lungs and he's broken and dislocated his arm." Sam felt sick, but that was quickly replaced by annoyance when he saw the accusatory expression on the doctor's face.
"What did you say happened to him again?" the doctor asked, watching him carefully.
"I didn't," Sam said, viewing the doctor with equal suspicion. "He was mugged."
"And how exactly do you know him?"
"He's my brother."
"And you didn't see his attacker?"
"No."
"And you have no idea what kind of weapon may have been used?"
"No!"
"How long was he injured before you brought him in."
"I don't know. A half hour maybe?"
"And who is this gentleman?" he asked, nodding to Cas.
"A family friend." The barrage of questions finally came to an end as the doctor scanned Sam from head to toe, taking in his blood covered skin and wet clothes. He still didn't look satisfied or at all pleased with Sam, but he beckoned him over to the reception desk.
"I'll need to take some details from you, Mr..?"
"Singer," Sam said.
Sam rushed through the forms and almost threw them across the desk to the receptionist. "Can we see him now?" he asked. The doctor led them through several long corridors, all seemingly identical. Every so often Cas would turn his head as though watching someone walk by and Sam had the unnerving feeling that the hospital was crawling with Reapers, perhaps all keen to be the one to get their hands on the legendary Dean Winchester.
"It will be some time before he regains consciousness," the doctor said, when they entered Dean's room. Sam's eyes fell on his brother, lying in the tiny bed, tubes in his throat and one of his arms. The other arm was in a cast from wrist to shoulder. He looked so small under the blue hospital blankets. Sam absent-mindedly thanked the doctor and he left them alone with Dean. Cas walked over to his bedside and stared down at him.
"I used to watch him when he was sleeping," Cas said.
"That's really weird," Sam said, standing on the other side of Dean, not sure what to do with himself.
"I didn't fully understand social norms back then."
"You don't fully understand them now," Sam said, glancing up at the angel with a half-hearted smile to let him know he was kidding. "Sit down," he added as Cas began to sway again. They both pulled up chairs and watched the slow, rhythmic breathing of the single most important person in their lives.
"Maybe I could heal him now," Cas said. "The doctors repaired some of the damage and I feel stronger."
"You're a terrible liar."
"I have to do something," Cas said, looking up at Sam, who was surprised to see that there were tears in his eyes.
"Now you know how it feels to be me," Sam said. He reached out and put a hand on Dean's uninjured arm, gripping it tightly and desperately wishing that he hadn't left it so late to try and patch things up with his big brother.
A/N Thanks for reading! Please drop me a quick review if you're enjoying the story. I absolutely love hearing from you. All the best, CMPerry.