Really Cliché Destiel Highschool

Waking Up

Back in Castiel's POV

Near-death experiences are kind of overrated in my opinion. 

Recovering from one, however, is a completely different story. 

First, there's the whole "surprise I'm not dead" trope, which is generally followed by crying, arguing, and, you know, hugging.

Then there's the constant retelling of what actually happened, only for the story to be warped beyond recognition from being tossed between too many ears and mouths.

Following that is the routine, "are you okay?"s no of course I'm not okay I almost just died that is kind of what NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCES entail. 

All of that, however, would be way better than this.

The first thing I am aware of is crying. Choked sobbing, as if the person crying is trying hard not to let anyone know. The beeping of a heart monitor can also be heard. Other than that, the room is unnaturally quiet.

The next thing I am aware of is that someone is holding my hand. Well, more like someone has my hand in a death-grip. Tears fall and land ungracefully on the bed, on my hand, and on my arm.

My uncovered arm. 

My heart stutters. 

The heart monitor picks up.

The crying quiets. 

"Cas?" Someone--no, not someone, Dean--croaks. He sounds heartbroken, defeated. 

I open my eyes. I gasp. Dean looks absolutely wrecked. His eyes are red and blotchy from crying. His freckled cheeks are tear-stained, and his hair is disheveled, as if he just got out of bed. He probably did, an unhelpful part of my brain suggests. Dean tightens his hold on my hand. 

"Cas," He breathes, but I am too busy trying to calm my panic. I swallow unsteadily. Carefully extracting my hand from his, I cradle my arm close to my chest covering the shameful scars that bring bile to my throat whenever I see them. Dean frowns. His eyes widen. I cringe, turning away from the boy that I love. That doesn't love me. That is going to leave. He's going to leave. 

Dean stays stock still, and when he does move, I flinch, screwing my eyes shut. I cannot bear to watch him leave. I cannot stand to see him walk out of my life and away from me. 

This is it. This is what it always comes to.

"I'm sorry." I hear myself say. 

Dean's fingers close around my wrist, easing my arm gently back to where is was on the mattress of the hospital cot. I do not open my eyes. I do not make a noise. I do not move.

The first press of lips makes me flinch horribly.

The second makes my breath hitch.

The third makes me open my eyes. 

The fourth makes warmth spread through my body, starting at my chest until I can feel it tingling in my fingers. Dean presses gentle and chaste kisses to each of my scars, threading our fingers together and squeezing tightly. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. 

"Don't be sorry, Cas, please." Dean says, his voice strained. 

"You...you don't hate me?" I struggle to put the words together, but I am burning to understand. I don't understand. I don't understand. 

Dean shakes his head viciously. "I could never hate you, Cas." He looks away. "Never." 

I understand. I understand and the world comes crashing down. Dean doesn't hate me. He might even--dare I say it--love me. I find a smile spreading across my face. I squeeze our entwined hands. Dean meets my eyes. He grins. 

We meet each other in the middle. When our lips collide, time slows down. Everything else in the world becomes unimportant other than the slide of our lips. His hand that is not holding mine cards through my hair, turning my head to deepen the kiss. My hand comes up to hold his jaw. I feel euphoric. We pull back at the same time, and he rests his forehead against mine. 

"I-" He presses a kiss to my left cheek.

"love-" Another to my right cheek.

"you-" to my forehead.

"I love you." Dean whispers against my lips, unable to keep the smile off his face. 

"I love you too, you dork." I whisper back, pecking a kiss ot his lips again. 

Someone clears their throat. 

Dean stills. He turns beet red. The back of my neck warms. 

"Well, this is extremely touching, but I'd like to visit my cousin now. I think it's time for our turn with Cassie, don't you think, Deano?" Balthazar says sarcastically, and a few chuckles fall over the crowd of people standing in the doorway. 

Dean sighs and sits back. He smirks at Balthazar. 

"Yeah, that's probably best," He says, "If I don't stop now I don't think I'll be able to keep my hand off of him." I blush again, ducking my head. 

"Ew gross, Dean!" Sam exclaims, as Gabriel cackles and throws vending machine animal crackers at us. The atmosphere lightens. Dean doesn't let go of my hand. Eventually everyone files in, Michael, Anna and Gabriel on my right, and the Winchesters on my left. Nobody mentions my scars.

"So what actually happened, Cassie?" Anna asks, wide eyed. It's getting harder to think with Dean stroking the back of my hand like that. 

"I...went for a walk," I recall. "To the park, when I heard a scuffle. There was a kid, getting mugged. I helped the kid get away when the guy pulled a knife." Anna gasps, and Dean tightens his hold on my hand. 

"You were stabbed, honey." Dr. Mosely is standing in the doorway. "You're lucky it didn't hit anything major. You just needed some stitches and you were as good as new." She pauses, "Well, as good as someone can be after being stabbed."

"So, are you and Dean, like, boyfriends?" Anna asks, and I blush. Dean does too, but he recovers quickly. 

"Definitely," He says, and I nod. 

Several things happen at once. 

Sam and Mary groan, pulling out their wallets. John punches the air as he collects a total of twenty dollars from the two others. Gabriel and Anna cheer, high-fiving, and Michael mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "finally". 

Dean groans.

"Seriously?!" Everyone shrugs. 

There is yelling down the hall. Sam groans. "Oh, no." he mutters.

"Ma'am, please, calm down."

"HELL NO, I DID NOT HAVE TO FIND OUT FROM SAM THAT MY FRIEND IS IN THE HOSPITAL AND NOT BE ABLE TO VISIT HIM!" 

"Ms. Bradbury, please, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to his room."

"DAMN STRAIGHT."

There are angry footsteps, and then a scared looking nurse, who's name tag reads Hael, enters. "You have more visitors," She mutters, and then scurries away. 

The door opens, and Charlie, Faith, Benny, Jo, Ash, and Pamela all file in, making the room quite cramped. Charlie zeroes in on Dean and me's entwined fingers. 

"About damn time!" She exclaims, and Gabriel follows through with a "Hallelujah!"

Dean groans once more, burying his face in the sheets of the bed. I lay a comforting hand on his head.

Everyone awwws.

Dean groans again.