Random Destiel Stories

After the Fall

Pre-destiel I guess? After season 8. Trying to get through writer's block right now, I can't think of anythiiiiiiiiiing, other than this I guess!

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Dean leaned back against the wall of the hospital's waiting room and checked his watch. 7 in the morning. He sighed and crouched down, dragging his hands through his hair.

5 and a half hours he'd been here. 3 since he'd seen Sam. The hospital was packed with people. Dean knew that most of the people coming in were fallen angels who didn't know who they were anymore, who were probably half scared to death, frantically trying to talk to nurses or other waiting patients.

Dean rested his head on his knees and tried to drown out the mumblings and shouts of different people around the room. He didn't know what to do. Kevin was back at the bunker freaking out (Dean had started to ignore his calls after the 5th time), Crowley was still tied up, Dean having left him to get Sam to a hospital as quick as he could.

Did it even matter though? Dean doubted the doctors could do anything and the longer it took to hear from them the less hope Dean had. It wasn't any normal medical condition. Probably something that could never be fixed.

And Cas......well Dean didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about all the falling angels he'd seen, plummeting to the earth with wings on fire, burning away. He didn't want to think about the blinding pain it most likely caused. He didn't want to think about how he was helpless to save them.

Dean sat for a long time, trying to free his thoughts from any worries and failing miserably.

He suddenly felt eyes on him and brought his head up, opening his blood shot eyes to turn and see a familiar trench coated figure coming his way. His eyes were focused on Dean, though he did flinch when he heard the confused ramblings of an obviously fallen angel to a nurse a couple meters away from him.

Dean froze, staring up at the man who had just stopped at his side. He opened his mouth, trying to find words to say, only being able to mumble a quiet, "Cas?"

Castiel slowly brought himself to the ground, sitting against the wall next to Dean, bumping Dean's thigh as he pulled his legs up. He rested his head back on the wall, "How's Sam?"

Dean gulped and took a shaky breath, turning away from Cas to stare down the hallway he had seen Sam be taken down, "Last I heard they had no clue. They're doing tests, trying to figure out what's wrong with him."

"Do you think they can help?"

Dean shook his head, "I-I don't know Cas. But I couldn't do anything, you couldn't do anything. I don't know what I was thinking I just......"

"I understand. I hope they help. Humans are very intelligent."

"How many of them are intelligent about the damn supernatural? It's not  like they'll just take a look at  him and say "He's obviously suffering from not completing the trials to close the gates of Hell,"" Dean spat out.

Castiel didn't answer and Dean couldn't bring himself to bother apologizing. Eventually he couldn't take the quiet and finally turned his head to stare at Castiel, unfolding from his crouch to copy Castiel's posture, "So Naomi wasn't lying?"

"No. Metatron betrayed us."

Dean nodded, "Are you.....?"

"I'm human, yes. My grace was the last step to expelling the angels from Heaven."