Reflections

Chapter 5-Sam

          I wake up to see a man in a beige trench coat run out of the hospital room. I was confused beyond belief. What were these people doing in my hospital room?

"Castiel!" The older-looking man called out for the man in the beige coat. He mumbled something before his eyes landed on me. "Shit, did we wake you?" The man said, his green eyes kind of reminding me of Dean's own. Comforting, hardy, and filled with pain. The same pain that came with a dying family member.

"Yeah, you did," I said moodier than I meant. But after all, I was dying. Couldn't a man get his rest?

"Right, sorry." The man said, a slightly apologetic look in his eyes, but not much. He looked back at his brother, who had a breathing tube in his mouth and was still sleeping. I felt slightly bad for him, but was curious, almost.

But I couldn't find it in me to care too much about the other person who was in my hospital room--well--now his hospital room as well.

It was a couple minutes in complete silence until Dean walks into the hospital room looking like Death was on his ass. He was paler than all hell, his eyes sunken in and his bags were purple. His eyes were red and puffy as though he hadn't stopped crying since we found out about my condition.

"Who's your new roomie?" Dean asked looking at the other boy. I just shrugged, not caring about who that was. I just wanted them out of my room.

"Don't know." I simply say, looking over at the sleeping blonde before turning back to Dean. As Dean walked closer, more into the light, I could see that his cheek was a little bruised.

"What happened?" I asked, already suspecting the answer but I didn't know if Dean went to the bar and got into a bar fight or anything. 

Dean looked back to the other man standing in the room cautiously. The man was silently crying while he looked at the boy in the bed.

"Tell you later, now is probably not the right time for it." Dean whispered to me, hoping the other man didn't hear our conversation.

"Alright," I responded.

Just then, another man walked into the room. He had deep purple marks under his eyes, his hair unruly, just like the man's that ran away with the beige coat on, except this man's hair was lighter.

"What the hell are you doing here, Chuck?" The taller of the two spoke venom.

"Seeing my son." The man, Chuck, responded. That same venom in his voice.

"He would hate you for this." The taller one spoke, his eyes filled with hatred yet such a deep love.

"No, he won't, Lucifer." Chuck responded; his eyes trained on the boy in the bed. Though it almost looked like he didn't care. Though his mind was on something completely different, something that wasn't his dying son.

The boy in the bed began to stir, his eyes opening. They reminded me of the golden color of whiskey. He looked around the room, a slightly panicked look to his golden eyes.

"Gabriel?" Lucifer asked. Gabriel looked over at Lucifer, but his eyes didn't stick as they continued to dart around the room, as though looking for someone else. "I'll go get a nurse." Lucifer said, quickly walking out of the room and disappearing behind a wall.

"I should've believed you, Gabriel," Chuck said, his eyes filled with an apologetic look, but they were hiding something else, like he didn't fully care that his son was in a hospital bed.

Gabriel didn't look very pleased with his words as he looked at Chuck with furrowed eyebrows, a look of pure horror and anger on his soft features. The air turned extremely awkward until Lucifer returned with a nurse. The nurse talked to Gabriel, though he couldn't respond back.

"Okay, this is gunna feel extremely uncomfortable, but bear with me here," The nurse said before he began to pull the breathing tube out of Gabriel's mouth. Gabriel's face scrunched up in pain, but it was quickly over, and he coughed, a painful sound coming deep within his chest.

"Well, give it to me straight, Doc," Gabriel said, his voice hoarse, almost a whisper. He tried to joke, hiding the pain behind humor. "Or gay, whichever you prefer."  He smirked, and I had to refrain from rolling my eyes.

"Well, this isn't going to be really easy to hear but," The nurse stopped, it was clear he hadn't really given people bad news like this. "You have stage three lung cancer. We don't think it can be treated, but there are treatment options." The nurse said quickly, looking at Gabriel's reaction. But he looked stoic, as though deep down he already knew what was happening and he was quickly coming to terms with it.

The nurse stood there uncomfortably, waiting for some sort of reaction from Gabriel.

"Pfft, tell me something new, Doc." He instead laughs.

The nurse looked confused. "First, I'm not a doctor, second, are you not worried?"

"Nah, you should've heard me at the dinner table the other day. Sounded like my tea was done." Gabriel joked. "Hey, do you have any suckers? I was a good boy today, Doc." He jokes, and I couldn't resist the urge to roll my eyes. This was the guy I was roomed with?

"Um, no." The nurse said, looking more uncomfortable as time drew on. "Alright, well, that's all." The nurse said and left quickly.

"Well, then. So much for first impressions." Dean mumbled under his breath.

"Listen, Squirrel, my lungs might be currently killing me but I can still hear you." Gabriel said from his bed, causing a slight chuckle from me.

"Yeah, Dean." I tease. The tension in the room was lifted. The air that was once thick now light and airy. It was weird to me how fast it changed, how fast everything just got switched up. But I welcomed the change, welcomed it with open arms and a wide smile.

I didn't even know the other man in the bed, but I felt intrigued. I pushed those feelings down, however. I pushed them down for the fact I wasn't going to survive. I couldn't create new friends just to ruin them. Couldn't have someone trust me just so they can carry my coffin to my grave.

I wouldn't do that to the blonde boy in the bed next to mine.

"Alright, Goldie Locks, my names Dean. Not Squirrel." Dean said with an annoyed, but amused, look.

"You kind of look like a squirrel." The boy retorted. "I'm Gabriel." And at that, Dean snorted.

"Gabriel and Lucifer?" Dean asked, an eyebrow raised. "What kind of names are those?"

And at that, Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Ever heard of 'The Bible'?" Gabriel scoffed, but that joking tone always stayed within his words. "It's a pretty popular book, actually."

At that, Dean rolled his eyes, very clearly annoyed with the golden haired boy.

"Yes, everyone's heard of the Bible." Dean retorted.

"Then you'll know our names are religious. Duh." Gabriel rolled his eyes, but smirked all the same.

I looked back at Dean, his eyes searching my face with a raised brow, as if to say, "This guy? Really?"

I just gave a slight smile. I didn't really have the energy to do much else. But with that little smile, I saw in Dean's eyes hope. I wanted to scoff. I wanted to scoff at how stupid hope is. How stupid it is to hope for someone when they are going to die at the end anyway. This was a shitty story and Dean got the short end of the stick. A dead mother and a dying brother. How shitty.

Hope was a dangerous thing. Gave people a false positive in a situation where nothing was positive. Where things can go badly in the blink of an eye and they will crumble. Hope. There was nothing to hope for in this situation. Hope will crumble Dean. He will lose a sense of life. All because hope is a dangerous thing.