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Chapter 29: Hope and Heartbreak

Dean's POV

I was ready to go out and drink the nearest bar dry. Sitting in the waiting room to have an answer about Y/N was breaking my sanity down. Sam and Cas both kept casting worried glances my way as my leg was shaking a million miles a minute.

After the nurse kicked me out, I had been on edge and ready to jump at the first sign of possible information. Each time a nurse or doctor walked through the waiting room, I pounced to my feet in hopes to have news on Y/N's condition. Whatever they were doing was taking entirely too long for my liking.

"I'm sure she'll be okay," Sam said.

I looked up from the snagged and dirt stained carpet to glare at him. He was trying to be comforting, but I didn't want to hear it. I hoped against all hope that she was going to be okay, but I've been alive long enough to know to expect the worst. I was looking directly at Sam, but no longer really seeing him as my head tortured me with what I saw in her room.

"You weren't in there. They were trying to restart her heart." It was difficult not to choke on my words that were laced with an unfamiliar emotion that I've only experienced a handful of times.

Another doctor walked out of the door that led back to the ICU. I was on my feet in less than a second and wishing he would be there to give me good news.

"Are you here for Y/N?" he asked me.

I nodded, the saliva suddenly becoming thick in my throat as my nerves became more heightened. "Yeah." I cleared my throat to make my voice sound stronger and more sure. "We all are."

The doctor pulled a chair around to face all of us and sat in it, tugging his glasses off his face as he did so. The tension was so thick I swear it was tangible. He sighed heavily before saying, "We did everything we could-"

"No," I whispered in shock. Cas stood and rested his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm very sorry," the doctor said.

I knew it wasn't the doctor's fault, but I was upset and needed someone to blame outside of myself, so I began yelling at him for not truly doing enough.

"Dean," Sam yelled, snapping me out of my hurt and anger. "Stop."

"I'm so sorry, sir."

Is that all he could manage to say? Sorry wouldn't bring Y/N back. No words, aside ones said in a crossroads deal, were going to bring her back.

"Do you want to see her body before we do the autopsy?" he offered.

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. It seemed foolish to want to see her, but I wanted to. "Can I?" I asked sheepishly. Maybe if I saw her she wouldn't really be gone.

"Do you want us to go with you?" Sam asked. I shook my head, I needed to do this alone. Sammy couldn't see me break down, and I knew it might happen.

The doctor had me follow him back to Y/N's room. He warned me that she would look different, but I knew that already. I've dealt with enough dead bodies through hunting that I knew she wouldn't look like herself. When I walked into the room, all of the nurses kept their eyes averted as they gathered up a few items and left. I was alone, completely alone.

Y/N didn't move like I half expected her to, like I wanted her to. Her skin was ashen and the blush from her cheeks was missing. She looked...dead. Why was I expecting otherwise? The doctor said that they did what they could for her. I knew she didn't make it, but deep down I was really holding out for some hope that he was wrong.

I sat on her thin mattress and gripped her hand that was lacking the warmth of life. "C'mon, Y/N. Please, don't be dead. I'm so sorry for everything."

Tears came and I pulled her hand to my chest, clutching it as if it would somehow bring her back. She couldn't be dead. It shouldn't be possible. Less than twenty-four hours ago she was dressed up for the bar, a beautiful blush to her cheeks and hair falling in pretty waves. Now...now she was a mess. She was so much paler than normal and even her hair seemed to be more dry and brittle.

I choked on a sob that was trying to escape. Why was I hurting so much? She hadn't even been in my life for a full month, yet somehow it seemed to be so much more.

"God," I started, unsure of myself. "I know I don't even know if you really exist, but if you do... if there's anything you can do to bring her back..."

I stopped myself, feeling stupid for praying. I needed something, though, anything that would give me any hope at all. If there was any chance at all that praying to a God that had been MIA every time we needed Him, then I was going to give it the best shot I had.

My eyes lifted to the door when it creaked. A nurse walked in looking sheepish and like she was filled with pity.

"Sir, I am so sorry, but we need to get her body down to the morgue."

I nodded my head and walked out of the room without any words. My head was swimming with so many thoughts and feelings that I couldn't focus on a single one. It made me feel numb.

"You gonna be okay?" Sam asked once I stepped back into the waiting room.

I shrugged my shoulders and hid my pain. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Dean," Sam started to scold me.

"Seriously, Sammy. I'm great. Death is nothing new. It was going to happen at some point anyway."

Every word that was leaving my mouth was torture. I didn't believe a thing I was saying, but Sam and Cas were not going to see me break down again. Sam was hurting from Y/N's death too, they seemed to be pretty close. I had to be there and be strong for him.

"I don't know about you guys," I said to fill the tense silence that had settled, "but I am ready to head home and have a beer or two." Or twenty...

Without allowing my brother or the angel to respond, I walked out of the room and out to Baby. The other two climbed in and I drove away from the hospital, hands gripping the steering wheel like a vice and my jaw set to hide any emotion. To my surprise, Sam turned on the radio and allowed the Zeppelin tape to play.

"Do you need to talk?" Cas asked.

"No," I said harshly. "We just need a little time and a lot of beer."

"Sam," he asked. "Do you need to talk?"

Sam started to say something, but I cut him off to snap at Cas again. "Cut the Dr. Phil crap, we're fine."

Sam sighed and looked out the window, forgetting what he was going to say. The last thing I wanted was to dwell on Y/N's death. The more anything close to the topic was brought up, the more something inside me broke down. No one talked for several minutes and I welcomed the silence.

"Dean," Cas said firmly.

I glared back at him, far from being in the mood to talk. Instead of acknowledging him, I stayed silent and turned the radio up louder. Sam gave me a disapproving look, but he said nothing. The only thing I wanted was to hear the music I drove back to the bunker to seclude myself with alcohol as my only company.

"Dean, we need to go back," Cas said.

"For what?" I sneered. "To see her dead on a metal table? No thanks, Cas. I'm good."

"It's not that. Angel Radio," he paused as he searched for words. "Something big is happening and it involves Y/N."

I wanted to believe that he was telling the truth and that whatever was happening was good. It didn't seem possible though. How could something about Y/N coming through Angel Radio be good?

Rather than question it further, I spun Baby around and sped back toward the hospital. Maybe, for once, something good might happen. Maybe, somehow, this talk on Angel Radio would be a good thing and not something horrible.