Supernatural High [Destiel and Sabriel High School AU]

Chapter 17

            Dean sat in the hospital room with his head in his hands. In the bed, hooked up to what seemed like every machine in existence, was his father. Sam had left about ten minutes prior. He couldn’t take it anymore – he had to get out of there. Dean understood; he hated hospitals too. He knew that Sam also hated seeing his father lying in hospital bed . . . a hair’s breadth away from the threshold of Death’s Door. Again, Dean understood. Sam had never really seen his father hurt before – John always tried to hide it from him. John sheltered Sam – tried to keep him safe in the dark, but not Dean. Dean saw everything. He was used to seeing his father looking like a wreck. When John would come staggering home after an exhausting hunt, or when he would limp back, bruised and occasionally broken, Dean would always be there to welcome him home. He’d help his dad patch up his wounds. He’d seen his father imp, bleed, wince, cry out, dig a    bullet out of his chest, and sew up his own cuts. But no matter what happened, John Winchester never went to the hospital. He never was . . . out of commission like this.

            It worried Dean. He knew that John must’ve been severely hurt if he was in the hospital. The nurse had sad that John had checked himself in before collapsing. After they began working on him, they began to call the various cell numbers he kept in his wallets. After numerous attempts, they eventually called Dean’s current number. The only problem was that he had accidentally left his phone at home in his eagerness to see Cas. And poor Sammy had to answer that phone call. I should’ve been there, Dean thought mournfully. I should’ve been there to answer the phone . . . to explain what happened to him. He never should have had to go through that – not alone . . . He must’ve been terrified.

            It was odd though. How did Sam even get to the drive-in? How did he even know where to go? On the way to the hospital, Sam had muttered something about a friend dropping him off, but it was still sketchy. The more Dean thought about it, the more it bothered him. When Dad gets better, I think it’s time I get some real answers, he reasoned grimly. He never understood why Sam felt the need to be so secretive. Every time one of the brothers lied to the other, or kept some kind of silly secret, it backfired. The other would eventually find out, and then everyone would get pissed, and it just never ended well.

            Dean sighed and glanced up at his father lying there. Sammy’s secrets weren’t the only thing that he needed to be worried about. He shook his head. What the hell were you hunting, Dad? he wondered. If something was strong enough to put his father in this shape . . . and if it was still out there. Did you mess up on a normal hunt? That’s not like you at all, but . . . if something big is out there . . . if something out there is strong enough to put you down for the count . . . Dean didn’t want to think about it. It was a terrifying thought.

            “Dean.”

            The teenager jumped to his feet, thoughts of the creature that had demobilized his father swarming his mind. He whipped around in the direction of the noise, his hand on the knife he carried in his back pocket. Dean let out a slightly annoyed sigh and straightened up as he saw Cas standing in the doorway. The angel looked down sheepishly and began to play with his tie. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I . . . I didn’t mean to scare you.”

            “Cas, what the hell are you doing here?” Dean asked. He was aware of the sharpness in his voice, but he didn’t exactly appreciate being startled like that. Nonetheless, he couldn’t deny that he was a bit glad to see Cas again. “I told you you didn’t have to come.”

            The angel shrugged. “I don’t mind,” he replied. “Besides, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

            Dean felt himself smile. “Thanks, Cas.” Before the angel could respond, Dean had crossed the room and pulled him into his arms.