Sorry for taking so long guys! I still have two exams left, but I promise, I'll be writing more in the summer! Thank you for all the lovely reviews, favourites and follows!
Side note: You may want to skim over the first chapter at some point, because I had to edit it for the story, thank you :)
Hope you enjoy this chapter!
The Doctor pulled down a monitor, his fingers drumming against the Tardis' control centre, seemingly independent of their master. The Doctor glanced back to the angel briefly as the Tardis whirred and they parked. "Follow me gang!" He gestured as he walked down the Tardis' ramp out into the quiet street.
"Do you need a Scooby snack Shaggy?" Dean joked, feebly, looking back at Castiel who was still standing inside the Tardis.
"Shut up Dean." Sam sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"I do not understand. Who is Shaggy and what are Scooby snacks?" Castiel frowned, puzzled, crossing his arms, habouring the confidence to take another step, gritting his teeth. He could still remember the blinding hot white pain as he was blasted away from the hospital. It had taken everything to grip the boys and haul them to safety.
"Forget it Cas." Dean waved a dismissive hand. "Of course you wouldn't get it."
"I advise you ignore his behavior Castiel, it's typical of a passive aggressive."
"Why don't you shut the hell up, Sherlock?" Dean barked, clenching his fists.
"Defensive." Sherlock remarked, his low base voice making Dean seethe.
"Stop it Dean." Sam hissed, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. "I get that he's a jerk but don't let him get to you."
"Stay out of it Sam."
"It should be alright Cas," The Doctor reassured him; raising his voice loud enough to grab everyone else's attention. "Or it should be. I should've gone back in time and erased some of the sigils. If not, trial and error right?"
"Yes that is very encouraging, Doctor." Castiel remarked, folding his arms, getting over his trepidation, stepping down the ramp, through the open door, out into the cool air. He hissed, feeling his strength being momentarily sapped from him. His wings felt like a dead weight, grounding him to the ground that he stood on. Other than that he was fine.
The Doctor watched him closely; smiling as he saw his gamble had been proved right. "I did go back in time! Wait here gentlemen!" The Doctor cried, exultant as he pranced back inside the Tardis. Castiel and Sherlock seemed to be the only ones that were unfazed by the Doctor's erratic behavior.
"He's a psycho." Dean murmured.
"I thought I told you to keep your opinions to yourself." Castiel warned, his rough voice grating against Dean's nerves. What gives him the right?
"Oh, because I listen to you Cas, all the freaking time."
Castiel glowered, at which Dean responded to by winking. Sam looked away, ashamed by Dean's petty behavior, unable to get him to stay silent for more than thirty seconds. Castiel fists clenched, his jaw muscles twitching as he tensed. "You'd do well to keep your mouth shut, Dean." He managed to breathe past his teeth.
"Because I listen to you, don't I Cas? Well, go on, and fight me Cas, finish off what you started earlier."
Castiel exhaled deeply, his jaw relaxing, his eyes no longer focusing on Dean. "And what will that accomplish?"
Dean was interrupted, from replying with a witty retort, as the blue box reappeared, and the Doctor, hopped out of the Tardis, disheveled, coated in fine ash and grinning. "Demons actually explode if they get too near to the source!" He laughed, balancing himself against the Tardis, as his legs shook underneath him.
"So it's just us against the angels?" Sam asked.
"It'd appear so," The Doctor replied. "I ought to get changed, I can't walk into a hospital like this. I'd make a horrible impression. In fact, all of you look ridiculous, except you Sherlock, although your clothes could perhaps use a wash."
"What are you insinuating Doctor?" Sherlock said, his mouth twitching in agitation.
"We need to find you some suits."
"I can't believe we're taking fashion advice from this guy."
"I actually quite miss seeing such attire," Castiel murmured. "It was considered quite dapper." Castiel's face seemed to crumble a bit as Dean raised his eyebrows in his familiar: are you kidding me stare, Castiel what is wrong with you?
"Goodbye trench coat, hello suits!" The Doctor sang, as he rummaged around for a box, adorn with clothes of all types. Dean grimaced, as Castiel pulled out a fez, examining it with a smile, before sneakily placing it underneath his trench coat on the floor. "Have you got any changing rooms Doctor?" Dean hissed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as the angel began to shed his outer layers of clothing without much discretion. "Yes, through the corridor to your right, there should be a room you can use. But don't take the left door!"
"What's in the left door?" Sam asked, trying to pick through the trunk to find a suit his size, which proved to be a very trying task.
"Trust me you don't want to know."
"We can't go in as FBI, we haven't got any IDs on us," Sam pointed out, following the Doctor through the double doors. He was sweating already, and his suit felt too tight. He buttons were close to bursting. Dean gave him a nervous glance, his sharp eyes able to detect Sam's unhealthy sheen. He was going to ask, but decided to keep his mouth shut. Sam wasn't keeping secrets. "No need." The Doctor gave a grin of satisfaction, distributing pieces of paper. "Follow my lead." He said under his breath as he addressed the receptionist. "Health and safety inspectors, we're here to investigate the hospital records." He held up the paper and the rest of them followed his lead.
The man at the desk smirked. "You'll be the third lot this month. There's nothing wrong with the records." The man rocked back in his chair. "Everywhere else, death rates are going up, you hear all these news of storms, but nothing here. No one's dying these days. Heretics are calling this hospital blessed. Crazy isn't it?"
"I wouldn't be one to dismiss that theory so quickly." Castiel immediately answered. Dean gave him a look of disapproval.
"He has a weird sense of humour."
"Don't we all." The man simply remarked.
"Would you mind if we interviewed some of your patients, and could you please give my friend Sherlock copies of some of your hospital data dating back to when the death counts were at a normal rate?"
"Surely you already have copies of the data, if your board sent you down here?"
"We'd like to compare external and internal sources, just to make sure that everything's accurate." Sherlock quickly replied with a smile.
"Well, I'll get the papers printed out for you right away sir, just let me take this call."
Sherlock smiled again, the man looked away, seeming to be a bit intimidated. "I'll catch up with you later John when I have the results."
The Doctor grinned to himself, amused by his own private joke.
"You have got to tell me where you got this from, it's brilliant!" Dean beamed, as he flipped it from side to side. "We wouldn't ever need to use fake IDs again."
"Give it back to me, it's dangerous to have equipment from the future."
Dean raised an eyebrow, expression sullen as he handed his over. Sam looked over to Dean, as he passed the Doctor, his and Castiel's pieces of physic paper, tilting his head slightly towards and back from the Doctor, communicating that he was obviously going to pickpocket the Doctor when this was over. Dean couldn't help but grin. Wasn't Sam full of surprises?
The Doctor quickly read the signs, deciding to go down the terminally ill ward. "Some of these patients may still have been here from when this all started." He activated his screwdriver. A nurse pushing a trolley gave him an odd stare. "New equipment. It makes sure there's no asbestos in the walls. Prototype. Have a nice day!" He called after her, which she blatantly ignored.
"You okay Sam?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just a headache." Sam said, pressing his fingers to his temples.
"It's never just anything with you Sam." Dean said gritting his teeth, turning to the Doctor and asking "Can your sonic screwdriver pick up anything celestial?"
"Yes." The Doctor said, pointing it at Castiel. "But he's blocking my signal readings, I keep getting Castiel. And there seems to be other angels in the building."
"Where?" Dean asked, trying to keep it nonchalant.
"No idea, and I wouldn't give you that information anyway. I'd advise you keep an eye on him Cas." The Doctor paused, tucking his screwdriver back into his blazer. "This looks interesting." The Doctor gave a small wave to the boy sat upright in his hospital bed, arms crossed, looking bored, as he watched the Television. An IV tube was inserted into his arm. "Hello!" The Doctor chirped, waving.
"Are you here for another blood test?" He asked, irritated. "It's been weeks, like everyone else in this hospital I'm cured."
"Well, we're investigating that. What were you cured of apparently?" He asked, wandering around the room. The boy gave him a peculiar stare as he waved his screwdriver around the room. He seemed to choose to ignore this, looking ahead at the TV screen with a determined resilience which Dean liked.
"Well, I was born with congenital heart disease that wasn't picked up on until a few months ago, where I got serious pains in my chest after playing a game of football. We come here, see a few specialists, I got put on some drugs and had an operation, which failed, because I had another heart attack. Get to the hospital, couple of days pass and the doctors can't find anything wrong with my heart." The boy sighed, rubbing his eyes. "They're still keeping me under observation, but there was a kid in the next ward, who had been in an accident, and the nurses could just tell they weren't going to make it. A few hours pass, and they're fully conscious, and the next day they were back to normal."
"Sounds like they were lucky."
"It's not just them. It's everyone who comes here. The doctors and the nurses are trying to keep it on the down low, because no one dies here. They just get miracles."
"Sounds almost too good to be true." Sam mused, his mouth tasting metallic. His head was pounding.
"Were you visited by any apparitions?" Castiel questioned, "Or hear any rumours of such things…?" He went quiet, as Dean shook his head at him, but the Doctor simply grinned and gave a thumbs up of encouragement. Sam fought the urge to face palm.
"I don't know what it is, but as I said, call it God or whatever, but people get cured here, where otherwise they'd have died. Have you got any more questions? I'm missing my TV show."
"Can we talk to your mum or dad?" Sam asked, trying to play the part with a notepad and pen.
"My mum's off getting Chinese, dad's at work. They might finally be letting me come home today. I'll have to see it to believe it."
"Well your mum has good taste," Dean glanced up at the television smiling, "Much like your good choice in cartoons."
"Thanks. It's better than watching the news twenty four seven. It's getting depressing."
"I bet it is buddy." Dean murmured. "Well, see you, enjoy your Chinese."
"Wait!" He called after Dean, giving Castiel and the Doctor wary looks. "This isn't some weird secret agent stuff is it?"
"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to. See you around man." Dean remarked with a sly smile, stepping outside of the door. "Who's next on the list to freak out?"
"Next door."
"The boy did not seem disturbed." Castiel said, frowning as he looked at the ground, deep in contemplation. He was still trying to grasp the idea of normal social conduct but he'd thought the process had gone quite well. Surely, the boy couldn't have been too fazed by the questions, he thought, he had been following the Winchester's normal procedure of questioning.
"Trust me, he was." Dean assured him.