Sam & Castiel look after Dean.
"...'Go away,' he said to the bloody stranger in front of him. 'Go on. Get out of here.' It bent over, exposing the knife handle in its back. Its hands closed around the mallet again, but instead of aiming at Danny, it reversed the handle, aiming the hard side of the roque mallet at its own face. Understanding rushed through Danny..."
Dean smiled slightly, listening to his brother's voice as he continued reading to him. The doctor had said it was too early for him to be awake because the wound was still infected, and he was still very weak, and needed oxygen. He suggested sedating Dean for a few more days so he could recover properly, but Sam had threatened to punch him in the nose, so that suggestion was immediately dropped.
"Do the best part... you know which one," Dean whispered weakly, removing the oxygen mask so he could talk properly.
Sam stopped reading, and lowered the book to look at Dean. "That part isn't in the book."
"I know, but th-that part is so cool. Come on Sam... d-do it. Just act it out."
"What the hell do you want me to do? Grab the axe from the Impala, and hack the door down, screaming here's Sammy?"
Dean laughed, but immediately regretted it. "Sonofabitch," he moaned, closing his eyes tightly.
"Are you alright?" asked Sam worriedly, his free hand hovering over the call button.
"Yeah." Dean took a few deep breaths, trying to control the pain. After a minute, he looked up at his little brother. "Heeeere's Johnny," he quoted with a grin.
Castiel stilled the wet washcloth he was using to cool Dean down, and looked down at his friend with a confused expression. "Your name is Dean, not Johnny." He turned to Sam. "I think Dean may be delirious. He thinks his name is Johnny."
Sam laughed. "It's from the movie. It's Dean's favourite part."
"Oh. Okay then," said the angel, who was sitting on the edge of Dean's bed. It was now his job to cool Dean down, a job he took very seriously.
Dean was still grinning at Sam. "Come on, Sammy. Do it. Dude, that would be so awesome."
"Oh yeah. It'll be hilarious if one of the doctors came in, saw me, and locked me up in the psych ward."
"Don't worry Sammy, I'll bust you out... could you wait a few months while my legs recover? B-Because I wouldn't make the best knight in shining armour if I came to the r-rescue in a wheelchair."
"I know I said I'd do anything for you, but there's no way I'm going to make myself look like a complete moron."
"W-With that hairdo? Too late."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Thanks."
"W-Welcome. Ugh," Dean moaned, shifting slightly when the pain flared up again in his wounded back.
Sam sat on the other side of Dean's bed, and grabbed his hand tightly. "Are you alright?" he asked again.
"My back is killing me. I hate b-being in pain... all the damn time."
"There there," said Castiel, patting Dean's shoulder.
"Wow. That was really comforting."
"Okay. Er... humans offer comfort with a hug." Castiel leaned a little closer with outstretched arms. "Would you like a hug?"
"Would you like a broken nose?"
"Er... No. I do not think I would like that," answered Castiel after several seconds of actually thinking about it.
"You're a freak, you know that?"
"You are a freak too, but you are also my friend," answered Cas with a tiny smile as he placed the washcloth back on Dean's sweat-soaked, ashen face, and ran it down his cheek gently.
Dean laughed, but stopped immediately, his body tensed on the bed. "Dammit to hell... Mother of frigging Lucifer," he groaned in agony, throwing his head back onto the pillow.
Castiel stared at Dean. "You know Lucifer's mother? Is she the demon nurse?"
Dean's face scrunched up in pain. "N-No. It s-seemed more than just a sonofabitch moment. Don't ma-make me laugh."
"That's it," said Sam, pressing the call button, knowing Dean's pain scale; 'Sonofabitch' was 'ow that really hurts', but 'mother of Lucifer' was 'Oh my god, I'm going to die.' After calling for help, he gently placed the oxygen mask back over Dean's face. "That's it, deep breaths, Dean. Breathe in and breathe out, that's it, breathe."
After a minute, Dean looked up at him. "C-Could you write that d-down in-case I forget how to breathe later?" he joked weakly.
"Okay Chuckles, try and quit with the comedy routine for a few seconds."
"I-Instead of stand-up comedy, I could do la-lay-down comedy."
"Shut up, and get some rest, moron."
"I've b-been doing... nothing but resting since I got sh-shot."
Sam was about to respond when a nurse came into the room. "What's the problem."
"Dean's trying to make jokes," answered Castiel, turning to the nurse.
Sam rolled his eyes again. "That's not the problem. He's in a lot of pain," he told the nurse.
"Okie dokie." She tried to get closer to the bed, but Castiel was in the way. "Do you mind?"
"Do I mind what?" asked Castiel, head tilting to the side in confusion.
"She wants you to move out of the way, so she can get to Dean," Sam told him.
"Oh. I apologise." Castiel stood from the bed, and looked down at his friend. "He is still feeling cold, so do not remove my coat. I am an angel of the lord, so my body heat does not change... but Dean felt cold, so I laid it over him," he said, pointing at Dean, who was still wrapped in the trench coats warmth.
Maria stared at Castiel as if he had three heads, before nodding. "Uh-huh. Okay, let's check you out then," she said to Dean.
"Sure. Ch-Check me out all y-you... want."
Maria blushed as she checked his temperature. "Good news. It's gone down a little bit. It's now holding at 102."
"That's great," said Sam, sighing in relief. "Isn't it, big brother?"
Dean grunted in response, his eyes scrunching closed, his hand tightening its grip on Sam's. If it was possible, he went even paler.
"I don't mean to rush you, but could you give him something for the pain before he passes out?" asked Sam, trying to be polite.
"I'm sorry. I'll administer the painkiller and antibiotic right now," said Maria, finally giving Dean his medication. "The doctor will come to check the wound later, okay?"
Dean nodded in agreement. "K-Kay."
"Maybe you should consider agreeing to sedation until the infection clears up," suggested the nurse, who was met by a glaring Sam.
"No way. I just got him back, I'm not going to lose him again."
"Sam, he was unconscious, not dead," said Maria unthinkingly.
Sam flinched as if he had been hit. "Get out," he said through clenched teeth.
"I'm sorry," said Maria, before walking to the door. "If he needs anything, you know what to do."
Sam and Castiel both took their places on Dean's bed again.
"Do you need anything, Dean?" Castiel asked his injured friend, gently running the cloth over Dean's hot cheek.
"No," Dean answered weakly.
Sam stared at his brother as he stroked his fingers through Dean's sweat-soaked hair. It was so good to have him back. "Are you thirsty?" Instead of waiting for an answer, he grabbed the glass, and gently helped Dean sit up, so he could have a drink. "There we go." After placing the glass back on the bedside table, Sam kept his arm around Dean for a few seconds, before gently lowering him back into the bed.
"Thanks. R-Read some more, Sa-Sammy."
"Okay." Sam picked the book back up, and continued reading where he left off. "...Then the mallet began to rise and descend, destroying the last of Jack Torrance's image. The thing in the hall danced an eerie, shuffling polka, the beat counterpointed by the hideous sound of the mallet head striking again and again. Blood splattered across the wallpaper. Shards of bone leaped into the air like broken piano keys. It was impossible to say just how long it went on. But when it turned its attention back to Danny, his father was gone forever..."
Dean smiled as he pictured everything Sam read to him. Stephen King had quite the imagination.
A few hours later, Dean awoke from a nap to see Sam and Bobby asleep in their chairs, and the angel nowhere in sight.
He closed his eyes with a little smile. This was his first moment of peace from the three mother hens since he had been in the hospital.
He laid there for several minutes, until Castiel suddenly appeared back in the room, his hand behind his back. Hearing the fluttering of wings, Dean opened his eyes. "Hey C-Cas."
"Hello. They were supposed to stay awake while I went away," said the angel, frowning when he saw the two men sleeping.
"I-It's fine, Cas. They obviously need sleep," Dean told him, before gesturing to Castiel. "What have you got?"
"Oh." A slight blush coloured his cheeks as he brought out what he was hiding. "I was walking past one of the hospital rooms earlier, and saw flowers and teddy bears. Sam told me that is what you buy for people who are in hospital... I wanted to get you something."
Dean stared at the angel, who was holding out a small gift. "You bought me fl-flowers?"
"Indeed," said Castiel, nodding.
"Didn't they have any grapes... or maybe chocolate? I don't do flowers."
"Don't you like them?" asked Castiel, lowering the flowers with a wounded expression.
Dean moaned, and raised a trembling hand to lower the oxygen mask slightly. He took a few deep breaths, before answering. "They're... great."
A smile lit up the angels face as he placed them on the table by Dean's bed, that was when he noticed sweat running down from Dean's forehead, and he was still burning up. "I will help you." He grabbed the bowl, sat on the bed, and started cooling him down again. "There you go."
Dean sighed. "Thanks Cas."
"You are very welcome, Dean." Castiel was silent for a minute. "I also walked by the children's ward, and saw parents singing to their children. Would you like me to sing to you?"
"Er..." said Dean, staring at the angel, who was starting to freak him out. "No thanks."
"Very well. Would you like a drink of water?"
"No. Do me a favour... stop trying to be more... human. You don't need to copy human behaviour. I prefer you the way you are... Weird, and just... you." He frowned slightly, and swallowed, noticing his throat was dry. "Actually, could you pass me some water?"
"Of course." Castiel reached over with his free hand, and passed the water to his friend. He remembered what he saw Sam doing earlier, and lifted Dean up a little bit so he could drink, being very careful not to hurt him.
After taking a sip, Dean nodded. "Thanks."
Castiel smiled again, and put the water back, accidentally waking Sam up.
"Whoa," Sam exclaimed, jumping up. "What happened?"
"You woke up, Sam," answered Castiel with his usual serious expression.
Sam ignored him, and moved to be closer to his sick and hurt brother. "How are you feeling?"
Dean weakly turned to look at him. "K-Kay... apart from Cas th-threatening me with violence."
"What?" asked Sam, eyes narrowing as he glared at Castiel, who was staring back.
"H-He threatened to... to si-sing at me."
"That's yer idea of violence, is it?" asked Bobby, waking up.
"It is when he sings," said Dean, nodding at the angel. "It'll probably be worse than when he... spoke to me when I came back from hell, and nearly deafened me."
Sam was still confused about the singing thing. "Why did he want to sing to you?"
"He's trying to be more... human. He's fr-freaking me out," said Dean with a yawn.
"Get some sleep, okay?"
"I've already been asleep. M-My eyelids aren't that ex-exciting."
"They're not supposed to keep ya entertained."
"Dean, you're recovering from a gunshot wound, and suffering with an infection, you need all the rest you can get," said Sam, shaking his head at his stubborn brother.
"But I just woke up yesterday, you've already finished the Shining. I'm bored," Dean told them with a dramatic sigh. "If you c-could die of boredom, I'd be six feet under by now... again."
Sam gripped his hand tightly. "Will you stop talking about dying? It's not funny."
"I didn't say it was, did I? I hate laying around doing nothing... I hate not being able to walk... I hate not being able to kick demonic ass, and drive my car." Dean frowned and stared out of the window with a miserable expression.
"I'll tell you what, we'll find something for you to do when you next wake up, okay?"
"It better not b-be I spy."
"Don't worry, it won't be. Just rest, Dean. Don't make me ask Castiel to sing to you."
Dean closed his eyes immediately. "Sleeping now."
Sam and Bobby laughed at the expression on Castiel's face as he watched Dean relax and finally fall asleep.
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