Destiel FanFiction; Supernatural Related

Oneshot #7

Dean dreaded this day since last month. Growing up, he never really had to get check ups or shots. But when Castiel started taking his health into consideration, Cas set up Dean an appointment with his doctor.

"Cas, I'm a man who drinks alcohol and watches porn. I don't need to go to the doctor." Dean says, as he sits in a chair in the study room of the bunker and pours himself another glass of alcohol.

"Dean. You need to get checked. I can sense your uncomfortable and something is wrong within you."

Dean gets dressed after having a heated conversation with Cas. He storms out of the bunker and gets into the 1967 Chevy Impala. While driving down the road, he calms down a bit and begins to play 'Carry on My Wayward Son' as he drives to his scheduled appointment.

Once he gets parked and goes inside, he checks in and sits down to wait for the doctor to call him back for his 'physical'. An older woman, maybe in her 70's or 80's, is seating a seat away from Dean. Dean moves down a few seats once she begins to cough uncontrollably. He never got sick as a kid, so germs really freaked him out. 

After about half an hour, an older man in his 40's calls, Hector Aframain, the fake name he uses. Once he gets called back, the doctor asks him to take off his clothes and put on a robe. Within now time, the doctor checked him all over. Dean sits down after the doctor leaves and changes back into his clothes. The doctor comes in once he's dressed and sits down on the spinning chair and puts on his glasses. 

"Dean. Have you ever smoked in your life? Or lived with a smoker?" Dr. Grunzwald asks.

"Nope. I just drinkers, sir." 

"Well Dean, I believe you have a tumor in your lung, and the ambulance is on its way to pick you up to get a C.T. Scan."

 Deans face goes blank and pale. He goes motionless and still. The doctor notices and steps out to let him have some time alone. 

"Castiel. What am I going to tell Cas?" Dean thinks to himself. The doctor knocks on the door and tells him the ambulance is here.

Once Dean gives up fighting to not be put in the gurney, he sends Cas a text;

"Going to the hospital down town possible tumor in lung meet me there"

On the way there, the only thing Dean could think about is Castiel. He hasn't texted Dean back. But, as soon as Dean got there, Cas was there, waiting outside of the ambulance. Silence the whole ride inside. Once they got Dean into a room, Cas comes in quietly and sits next to Dean. 

After a few moments, Dean speaks up, "Cas. I'm so sorry."

"Well I thought it was a stomach tumor, not a lung tumor. But I'm glad i felt it when I did."

There was confusion and shock crossed his face, and as soon as he began to speak, the doctor came in. 

"Mr. Aframain? We just got your C.T. Scan back, and I'm sorry but the tumor is too big to remove. We have given you an estamate of a week to live."

The docotor nods his head, sets anfew papers at the end of his bed, and leaves. Dean's face is white as a ghost. Cas looks at Dean and smiles.

"Dean, you will go to heaven. And we will live happily ever after in there."

Dean look at Cas and a single tear fell from his face and landed on his sheets. Dean's life was almost over, and still, Castiel was the only thing that Dean couldn't bear to live without.

The next 4 days went by quicker than expected. A few more burgers and a lot of beer drowned out the fear in Deans eyes. But that night when Dean layed down for bed, he knew it was getting close. He called Castiel in and held his and tightly. 

"Castiel I don't want to die. I don't want to leave you." Dean said.

Castiel laid his hand on Deans heart and felt his last heart beat.

"Good bye Cas." Dean gasped as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and life drained out of him, all at once.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was darkness. The kind of darkness where you can't see your hand, even if it was rght infront of your face. Then light, began to beam from behind Dean. He got up from laying on the ground and turned around. Even though the light blinded him, he could define the familiar outline of a man in a trench coat. 

"Hello Dean."