Outside These Walls [Destiel]

Chapter 18

When Dean awoke, the first thing he noticed was that he was clean and that cool air was touching his skin, raising small bumps along his arms. It made his brows furrow, staring up at the fluorescent light over his head before the steady beat of a heart monitor beside his head. He shifted, feeling the constriction of the bandages of her skin pulling against him as he sat up, the IV in his arm shifting and leaving an odd tingling sensation in his skin as he cast his gaze around the room.

A doctor was standing nearby, talking with a soldier with a calm expression on his face. When they noticed Dean was awake, a small smile split the doctor's face as he walked over, setting his clipboard down before slowly checking over Dean.

"You're finally awake? Poor guy three beds down has been asking about you for the past two days," The doctor commented, testing his wounds for infection and then flicking a flashlight over his eyes, "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

"N-no," Dean replied, his tongue feeling like sandpaper and hindering his speech. He looked around, his mind a bit foggy as he narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching with discomfort as he struggled to sit a little higher, "Where's Castiel?"

The doctor frowned a little, grabbing Dean's chin ever so gently and stilling his movements so he could look at his eyes clearly, "He's the blind one, right?" The doctor asked, not continuing until Dean voiced out a soft 'yes,' "He's recovering from surgery. There was an infection in his left eye, but nothing a few antibiotic shots couldn't fix."

Dean let out an audible sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as the knowledge that Castiel would be okay sunk into his very core. He finally turned his attention to the rest of the building with a look of curiosity, eyeing the other nurses and doctors as they passed, "Where are we?"

"Germany, medical hospital," The doctor replied evenly, stepping back and putting the light away, looking at his clipboard with a calculating eye, "There's no sign of infections and your dehydration is gone...You have an injury to the back of your head that's concerning...Seargent Nickel, could you come over here please?"

The soldier he was talking to earlier nodded, stepping over with a sense of dignity and confidence as he looked at Dean with a sense of admiration in his eyes. Dean had no idea what would be the cause of such a reaction, but he thought no further of it as the doctor mumbled something to the man, and the Seargent nodded.

"Could you hold this for me?" The Seargent asked, pulling out his gun and holding it to Dean almost delicately. Dean took the gun, frowning at the two men when nothing happened, and the doctor cleared his throat.

"Could you hold it as if you were going to aim at this window over here?" The doctor asked, pointing towards the window across from Dean's bed. Dean narrowed his eyes, his head turning slightly as he watched them in confusion. Still, he did as he was told and lifted his hands, aiming the gun expertly.

Except he couldn't.

His hands shook. They shook so hard that the gun rattled in his hand before falling to the bed with a soft thunk. Dean stared at his hands, watched the tremors spread throughout his entire forearms, only for it to stop when the doctor pulled his hands away from each other, and they stilled.