Writing's on the Wall Destiel

Chapter 14

Dean woke to the sound of someone shouting. He shifted slightly, so as much not to draw attention and craned his head towards the sound.

Bobby was yelling at Sam, Castiel standing to the side. "What were you idjits thinking?! You could have gotten yourselves killed!"

"Bobby-"

"You should have called me! Tell me you didn't forget how to pick up and dial a number on a damn phone!"

"You were busy," reasoned Sam calmly although he was quaking inwardly. "We didn't want to drag you into this."

"I'm already involved with this, boy! You should have called! Those were hell's best warriors! You could have been killed! Hell, you could have gotten yer brother killed!"

Castiel stepped in, his face pained. "It's not Sam's fault. I-"

"And you!" Bobby shouted, pointing a finger at Castiel, who was startled into silence. "You have angel powers. Why didn't you frigging heal him?"

"I-"

"Save it, you lying dickmonkey! You promised me! You promised me you wouldn't let him get hurt! You said you were his protector! The hell happened to that, huh? Is this what you're like all the time? Make a promise and walk out on it? What kind of angel are you anyway?"

"Stop," Dean whispered hoarsely. When they didn't hear, he shifted more and said as loud as he could with a tube in his nose, "Stop."

Bobby rushed over to him. "Dean. How ya feeling?"

Dean eased his hospital bed up gently. "Super. Don't yell at them, okay? It's not their fault, it's mine."

"Yours? They-"

"No, they didn't get me frigging killed, okay? Cas stopped Alistair from putting me through a meat grinder. Sam stopped Alistair from killing both me and Cas. You need to calm down, Bobby."

Bobby inhaled and placed a hand on Dean's cheek in a fatherly manner. "Idjit."

"Thanks, old man."

"You're lucky I like you, boy." Bobby gestured towards the door. "I'm gonna talk to your doctor, see if we can get you released early. I head on home first. Sam, you get to drive. Dean needs to get better before he's behind the wheel again."

Sam's eyes followed Bobby out the door before they turned to his brother. "Hey, Dean."

"Hiya, Sammy."

Sam didn't complain about the nickname like he usually would have. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Anything hurt?"

"Well, other than my dignity, no," Dean cheekily answered, earning a snort from Sam. "How've you guys been handling it?"

"I was pretty okay. Probably the only person who got banged up more than you was Cas."

Both boys turned to the angel, who held no traces of the battle that occurred the night before. "How ya doin', Cas?"

"I'm fine," Castiel dead panned, but by this time, Dean knew Castiel well enough to know that he wasn't. "Sam, can we have a minute?"

"Sure." Sam gave Dean a knowing look. "No funny business in here."

Dean groaned. "Aw, shut up!" He heard Sam laugh outside the door. Once he was sure Sam was out of eyeshot and earshot, he looked at Castiel. "What's goin' on, Cas?"

Castiel just looked at his feet. "I'm fine, Dean. I mean it."

"No, you're not, because I've said that too many frigging times to know it's a lie." Dean stared at him pointedly, but his face softened when he saw that Castiel was nervous and, in fact, close to tears. "Come here."