Chapter 7
Cas struggled to hang onto Dean as his friend's seizure continued. He flew as fast as he could, but his strength was failing.
He crashed down into the ambulance bay of the nearest hospital. Two doctors and a nurse stood off to the side of the emergency entrance, chatting over to-go cups of coffee. Judging by the pale light of the sky, it couldn't have been very long after dawn.
Cas fell to the ground, unable to stand any longer, the pavement grinding into his knees. He held Dean close to his chest, the convulsions finally starting to quiet.
Castiel tried desperately to find the source of his power, his grace. He wanted to pour everything he had into healing Dean. But there was hardly a scrap of light left. He could barely fly. His grace simply hadn't regenerated enough.
"Help!" Cas yelled, and coughed wetly. Exhaustion seeped into every muscle and bone. Already weak, between being banished mere hours ago and the journey to bring Dean here, Cas was completely spent.
The hospital staff turned to look and immediately sprang into action. The two doctors ran to Cas while the nurse dashed inside to get a gurney and more help.
"What happened?" the first doctor, a curly-haired woman, asked as her colleague began assessing Dean's condition.
"I… uh…," Cas stumbled, unsure of what to say. Surely the truth was out of the question.
"How long has he been seizing? Does he have epilepsy or any other medical conditions that you know of?"
"Just a few minutes. And no…"
The nurse returned with a rolling stretcher and two more hospital employees.
"All right, let's get him up. Gently," the curly-haired doctor ordered. "Stabilize his neck. On my count, one, two, three!"
Castiel watched helplessly as they lifted his friend from his arms and settled him on the gurney, then began rolling him quickly away. Cas staggered after them.
"Possible traumatic brain injury," one of them was saying as they wheeled Dean into the emergency room. "Susan, I need vitals. And let's call radiology, set up a portable CT."
"I'm sorry, but you can't come in here," a nurse told Cas sympathetically, placing a hand on his chest. When she was satisfied he wouldn't follow, she disappeared through the door.
Feeling lost, Cas watched through the glass as the medical team worked on his friend. He looked so small lying on the bed… so fragile…
But he was in good hands, and Cas was needed elsewhere. He turned away and walked back toward the ambulance dock. Once he was safely outside and out of sight, Castiel took flight.
Within seconds he was back in Hell. Sam jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. The younger Winchester looked terrible. Haunted and scared.
"Cas," Sam began, but the angel just touched his arm and took off again, finally leaving behind that cursed place.
They landed just outside the emergency ward. Cas stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. Sam caught him.
"Hey, you okay? Cas?"
"I'm… I'm fine...," the angel muttered.
Together they hurried into the hospital, and Cas led the way to the room where the doctors continued to work on Dean.
Just as they arrived, a beeping alarm erupted inside the room. Dean's whole body began shaking and jerking, even more violently than before.
"He's seizing! Lorazepam!"
A nurse handed the doctor a syringe.
It took all of Sam's self-control to not burst in there. His eyes swam with tears. This was his fault, all his fault…
Something crashed behind him. Sam whirled around to see Cas lying on the floor, unconscious.
"Cas?" Sam cried, crouching down beside his friend. "Cas!"
But the angel gave no reponse.
"I need some help over here!" Sam yelled.
Two nurses came running around the corner. One of them called for assistance while the other examined Castiel. They were soon joined by a doctor and another nurse wheeling another gurney. Together, they all lifted Cas onto the bed, and he was borne away into a different exam room.
Sam watched them go, his hands on his head. He didn't know what to do. He turned in place, completely lost and alone. This is my fault…
He just didn't know what to do.