Safe and Sound (A Destiel AU) (Completed)

Chapter XIII

Tuesday, June 14, 2016
3 Weeks Left

A doctor and a team of nurses came in through the door abruptly and went right to work, a couple nurses messing with his medications and his IV, the others. "Since you are at your halfway mark, we decided to run some tests, just to make sure you're doing okay and healthy." Doctor-Dean had to glance at her name tag quickly-Tran asked.

"Well, I'm dying, not sure how okay that is." Dean muttered, just loud enough for Dr. Tran to hear. She continued running some tests, messing with machinery and recording down information, ignoring Dean's smartass comment.

"Oh..." She looked at her data, and started pressing buttons more furiously, crossing out and rewriting many things. Dean tried to get a good glimpse of the writing, but it all was just sloppy cursive scribbles, Dean had a harder time than most reading cursive. She continued muttering to herself, mostly strange medical terms, but Dean heard "shortened life span," and "as much as a week," being thrown around.

"Now, we need to give you some anesthesia so we can run a couple more tests safely, and you will likely not wake up until this evening." A nurse said, giving Dean a shot. He felt instantly tired, like when he stayed up for two days trying to study for final exams back in high school. His eyelids closed once, blinking a couple of times, and he drifted off into sleep.

~~~

It was a little later when he woke up, feeling drowsy, like a light hangover, except without the stomachache that he always seemed to get.

The room was silent, he was the only one inside. The other nurses must have finished with their tests and left, probably not too long ago.

A few minutes later, a nurse dropped by. "Are you doing okay?" He asked, looking Dean up and down, his dark brown curls bouncing as he did. He had to admit, he was kind of hot. Reminded him of Cas a little.

Dean shook the thought out of his head, remembering to not think of Cas that way, he told Cas he'd keep it platonic, dammit, Dean, stop it. "Uhh, yeah." Dean said, after what had been at least half a minute of nothing but mentally debating with himself. He shook his head, and blinked, as if he was trying to clear his head.

"Okay, let me know if you need some water or something." He said, and left the room. Dean heard him asking for Doctor Tran as he left, probably to tell her that Dean had woken up. The noise outside stopped when the door closed, leaving him in silence once more.

"Dean, we suspect you have around three to four less days than originally predicted. We'll give you medication to try and be sure of it being only three less days, but we can't control much less than that." She informed, and looked actually upset, not just a fake frown. To be fair, it's probably not the easiest thing to talk about, telling your patients that they're going to die.

"Well..." Dean had no idea on how he should react. He should feel angry, he should be upset, should be pissed that they couldn't do more. But there was a part of him that knew that they couldn't do anything about it. He was dying either way, might as well be sooner than later that he kicked the bucket. Three days isn't really that much, anyway.

"Now, I know this is hard to hear, and we have informed your brother, who seemed insistent on coming over here as soon as possible, as soon as he finished one of his final exams." Doctor Tran continued.

"Okay." It was one of those moments where nothing quite felt real, slightly altered in some sort of way. He was numb, his eyes were tired and he just wanted to be alone. There was a slight headache in the back of his head, almost always was one, that Dean usually managed to tune out, but it was worse than usual now.