Something to Remember

Chapter Two

      Two months had passed since Dean’s encounter with that strange night, resulting in his concussion. Due to the severity of the injury, the doctor ruled that he stay in the hospital for a few weeks. But Dean Winchester did no such thing. He called his brother and was out of the hospital that night. He hated hospitals. He always had and probably always will. The scent and the looks of inhumanity doctors give, the way that as soon as someone walks into a hospital they suddenly become a ‘patient’, which initially is just a number to those who work there. Hospitals were the worst and that was a fact.

   Sam never minded them though, in fact his girlfriend was actually going to college to be a nurse. Hell of a job. Sam just HAD to get hooked with someone who’s job was to work at the one place Dean hated. The only thing he could have chosen worse was dating a flight attendant- Dean just might have disowned him if he were to do that.

   Although, Dean couldn’t really say that much. At least Sam was in a steady relationship. One where  they both loved each other and had every intention to get married someday. Dean was happy for his brother, he knew in his gut that something like that just wasn’t for him. A steady relationship? Marriage? Family? Commitment? He learned as early as high school, that would never be in his life. ‘No strings attached’, Dean was more of a smash and pass, rather than a date by the moonlit lake. There was only two instances when he tried to keep  relationship going. Once in high school, with a pretty lady named Cassie, and once more recently with a lady named Lisa.

   Lisa. Oh how that name hurt. If there was a reason Dean would break his rule of not getting attached, Lisa was that reason. Dean loved her with his whole heart, she was like a blessing dressed in raven hair and beautiful eyes, stormy like hurricane clouds. The only thing wrong was Dean. Or maybe it was Lisa? Maybe it was something else? All he knew was that she left before the sunrise on their six month anniversary. That was only a year ago.

   Dean awoke from a somber sleep with his head stuck in a daze. Blinking his sleep-drunken eyes, he tilted his head to the alarm clock alongside the bed, it read ‘4:59’. He had one more minute to sleep and sure as hell was going to take advantage of that. Dean shoved his face back into the cheap white pillow case on the bed and closed his eyes. Maybe if he wished hard enough, one minute would turn into a few more hours. But it was actually less like hours and more like a millisecond before the box started screaming. “Here I am. Will you send me a angel? Here I am. In the land of the morning star.” A loud groan erupted from deans throat and he swatted at the black box until it fell onto the ground and presumably- broke.

Dean lifted his head and eyed the pile of plastic on the ground. “Awesome. I can already tell… this day is going to be fan-fricking-tastic..” he mumbled with a deep sigh. Throwing his feet over the side of the bed, he stumbled around to turn the light in his room on. It was still dark outside. Why was it necessary to be at work at five-thirty in the morning? The only people that are at the shop come six when it opened are weirdos, those people that eat kale for breakfast lunch and dinner and consider fresh fruit as a appropriate dessert. Dean had a break from those people for a whole month when he wasn’t allowed to work because of his condition, his boss, who conveniently was also his father, was pissed about his top worker being out of commission. For ‘a stupid boo boo on his head’. John Winchester was a… complicated man

    After neglecting to clean up the broken plastic, getting a half-assed shower, and changing into the same thing he wears everyday, (t-shirt, jeans, and a flannel that luckily matched his old Black Sabbath shirt), he got into his car and drove all the way to his work. Getting there right at five-thirty. Not a minute late, not a minute early. Dean was just petty like that. The only other person he could see already there was Benny, a good friend of Dean’s as well as a coworker. The Louisianan man waved from the garage doors after opening them. Dean waved back, flashing a smile and stepping out of his Impala. “How’s it going brotha’?” Benny asked as Dean stepped into the carport. “Same old. same old, I guess.” He responded, tilting his head in sync of his vision unconsciously and chuckled under his breath. Benny nodded and grunted “got that right.”

   That day had to be the longest day he had ever worked in his life. It felt like it was never going to end. When the sky finally turned dark and the doors to the shop were allowed to be closed without John getting pissed off and shooting someone, Dean fell back onto the seat of a car they had been practically rebuilding, it had no roof as of right then, nor did it have any back doors, it was basically crap. But due to John’s obsession with keeping his workers busy, they were required to work on it when there wasn’t any costumers around to give them something else to do. Benny glanced over at his friend and laughed. Dean had gotten too hot and taken his shirt off hours ago, he knew that he would be going to the store to get a new alarm after work and didn’t have a shirt to change into. So it was better to just take off the one he had so he didn’t have to go into a store looking like he hadn’t bathed in ages. “Careful taking that shirt off- some of the guys might be checkin’ you out” he chuckled. Dean furrowed his brows and lifted his head to look at Benny. “Like I care” he responded and rolled his eyes. He was tired and grumpy. Benny nodded and picked his friend’s layers out of  the chair he had laid them on and threw them onto Dean’s sweaty chest. “Already, I gotta head out, you should get going before pops gives you something else to do after-hours.” Benny was right. John would be at the shop in about five minutes if they didn’t have the place locked up and the lights off soon. Dean groaned, he couldn’t believe he had to deal with this kind of shit from his own father. Then again, he’s always been like that. Impossible to say the least. Dean was raised like he was born a grown man, like a solider. After John was discharged from the military and his wife died, it was just Sam, Dean, and John. The most dysfunctional family you could ask for.

   He put his shirt and flannel back on and nodded a goodbye to Benny. The shop was empty, a cold kind of empty. The kind of empty Dean couldn’t stand, the kind that made his skin crawl and his heart beat a little faster. This would be the exact moment his father would show up and start to scold him over something. Dean clenched his teeth tightly and shook his head, glancing up at the ceiling as he grabbed his keys out of his pocket and headed to the door, giving the shop one last glance before flipping the lights off and heading out. The sky was clear at least, stars twinkled against the flesh of a darkness, not a cloud in sight. A cool breeze washed over Dean,  he closed his eyes for a moment and absorbed the infection of night before loading into the Impala. He shoved the keys into the ignition and headed off, letting songs play quietly as he drove. He tilted his head and glanced at the retro car radio when he heard the lyrics. Of course he knew the song, but it was the same one playing when he broke his alarm. “Here I am. Will you send me a angel? Here I am. In the land of the morning star.” Dean laughed a little to himself, rolling the window down so the night breeze could flood the car. He sang along quietly as he made it into town.

   The streets suddenly became a lot brighter as he made it, passing various coffee shops and hole-in-the-wall places. Dean didn’t mind going to town but he only wanted to do it every once in a while. Places like that, all those busy people, college students, lawyers, doctors- it all made him feel very out of place, almost like a outcast. He certainly knew that he didn’t belong there. Dean turned the volume down and rolled his window back up. After another short while he made it to the tiny store he always went to for anything electric. Once inside, he was immediately  greeted by a smile from a scrawny man. It was none other than Garth who owned the tiny electrical store. That was the only reason Dean would drive that far for a alarm clock. At first glance, Garth looked like the kind of guy who would work at the post office or something like that but he was actually a pretty smart cookie and knew quit a lot about electronics. Enough to open a very successful store and nobody really knew that he went to the church for counseling, as far as dean knew, the only people aware of it was the other ones in the group.

   “Deano!” Garth called a little louder than Dean would have liked but that was to be expected. “Hey Garth, need another alarm clock.” He said almost shamefully, that was the third time this year he had broke a alarm clock. Once he had started to stop drinking, his ability to be calm in the morning and not break anything was faltering greatly. But Garth didn’t judge, instead he put his hands on his hips and hit Dean’s arm. “Oh you!” he laughed, cackling more so, like a henna. Dean smiled awkwardly as his smaller friend lead him to the small wall filled with alarm clocks, some were super cheap and others were over a hundred dollars. Who needs a alarm clock that costs that much? Dean cringed at the thought of spending that much. Garth gestured to the one that was about twenty dollars. “I suggest this one, it is a strong plastic so maybe it will be able to handle you in the morning a bit better” Garth snorted a little and pulled the box off the shelf. Dean laughed and shook his head “okay, good call, smart guy.”

    He wasn’t even in the store for ten minutes and was already put. Garth was so helpful, Dean barely even had to shop, now that’s good service. After throwing the box into the back, Dean opened the door to the drivers seat. His eyes caught a glimpse of something ungodly bright and blinding. Dean couldn’t help but look right at it, once his eyes adjusted he could see the building clearly. I was the hospital. The parking lot was covered in lights and was almost enough to light up the entire city. Dean’s mind wondered what ever happened to the guy he took there a few months ago. Dean stared a few more moments before his curiosity got the best of him and next thing he knew, he was driving into the parking lot of the building he hated more than any other place. But he figured he would only be there for a moment, besides, the guy was probably already out of the hospital by now.

   The dreaded smell and the stares stared as soon as he walked in, the white walls, white floors, white counters, and white outfits were almost as blinding as the lights that was in the lot. Dean walked up to the counter, irritation clear on his face but he tried to hide it. The lady behind the desk had red hair and had some dramatic make-up going on, and judging from her accent, she wasn’t from around here. “Can I help you?” she asked, batting her eyes in a confusing sense or flirting and superiority. Dean cleared his throat, “My name is Dean Winchester. I came here a few months ago after I helped a guy in, I was just wondering-“ dean started and was cut off by the lady placing a pen and paper in front of him. “Just fill this paperwork out, I need the patient’s name, description, your name, etcetera, I’m sure you can read.” She said without even looking at Dean. Dean clenched his teeth and rolled his eyes. “C’mon lady, I carried him in her. Literally carried him in here. I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t happen everyday. So if you don’t mind, all I wanna know is if he is doing okay.” Dean said. He was slowly but surely getting even more pissed off. The lady snarled her lip, narrowing her eyes at Dean. “Sir you can just leave if you are going to have a attitude with me!” She spat out. Dean gripped the counter an opened his mouth to say something else but thankfully someone walked up and interrupted the two. Heopened his mouth to say something else but thankfully someone walked up and interrupted the two. He was a taller man with faded brown hair and various wrinkles around his face, “Excuse me sir, what did you say your name was?” the doctor asked in that fake, stern, and emotionless voice doctors always seemed to have. He put his hand lightly on Dean’s shoulder. Dean shrugged it off an cleared his throat. “Dean. Dean Winchester.” he stated. The other mans’s eyes twinkled slightly and he nodded. “Come with me please.” He said in such a voice that it seemed like the Winchester had no other choice but to follow.

   He didn’t lead him outside or to security, but instead to the hallway with various patient doors. All marked with shiny silver numbers, clipboards hanging aside the wooden doors, the ominous smell of medicine fumes muffling Dean’s whole face. Making his stomach churn. “I think someone needs to see you..” he started. Dean rolled his eyes at the guy, why did he have to be so mysterious and unsettling. Its not like they were in some sort of mystery movie, he could just be upfront and not so staged. Yet another thing Dean hated about doctors.

   The two made it to a room just like the rest, the number marked ‘657’ the doctor stopped in front of the door, gazing at Dean as if he was in some shitty hospital soap opera. Dean snarled his nose and cocked his eyebrow at the man’s seriousness. He pushed the door open. Almost immediately he heard a rough voice call, “Are you Dean Winchester?” Dean frantically looked around and stepped closer into the room. “I.. Uh… Yeah..” he said, looking at the person in the bed. It was definitely the guy he had brought to the hospital. He looked a lot different without so much blood on him.  He looked much better now. Not so… dead.

   The guy stumbled out of his hospital bed, white scrubs and barefooted, he went over the edge of the bed and practically ran to Dean, shoving a brown coat in his face. The most disturbing thing was the huge ass smile on his face. “This- This is yours!” he stated. Dean grabbed it with caution and tried to look at the jacket without taking his eyes at the basket case in front of him. He suddenly remembered that when he brought the guy to the hospital he had covered the blood with his spare jacket. Dean shrugged and handed it back to the guy. “Yeah it is… Guess you are wondering how you ended up with it?” Dean tilted his eyebrow at him. The stranger had some freakishly blue eyes, outlines by dark circles from lack of sleep he guessed. The guy shook his head. “Well since I have it, that must mean you know me, right?”

   Dean’s heart suddenly felt very heavy in his chest. The guy did have some pretty bad bleeding from his head when he was found in the street. “Do you.. do you know me? You have to, right?” the guy asked in the most hopeless voice Dean thought he had ever heard. He couldn’t bare look at those big eyes staring at him, searching for a answer. Dean wanted to drink, he wanted to be blacked out for weeks right then. What was he thinking going to the hospital? “I’m sorry..” he started and didn’t even have to finish before any sense of hope left the guy’s face in a millisecond. “Oh.”

   The man shuffled back to the bed and sat down quietly. Without another word, he stared out the dark window. Dean held his breath, having no idea what to do. He awkwardly shifted his feet and walked over, putting his hand on the guys shoulder. He slowly turned and glanced at Dean, shrugging the man’s hand off. “My name is Castiel Novak apparently.” he mumbled, grabbing a dull, torn, leather wallet from the table next to his bed and showed Dean what looked like a drivers license, but a lot of the words had been burned off. That was.. unsettling to say the least. “well nice to meet you Cast- Castea- Castieal- “ he tried, not being able to say the name right. Dean could feel his fist stiffen in frustration so he rolled his eyes and blurted out “Cas! I’ll just say Cas.”

        He looked down at the man to see a half smile spread across his lips. Maybe he was hallucinating because as soon as he blinked it went away.  The man responding by sighing “I guess nobody knows anything about me.. how.. unfortunate.” There he went again with that hopeless voice. Dean wished he could do more. He looked around the room and ran his hand across his face. Why did he want to help this guy? Why did he always have to care so damn much? Suddenly a idea popped in his head. “That’s not true!” he almost yelled and Castiel jumped a little, glancing up at dean. “I do know something about you..” Cas tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows. “And what is that?” he asked, clearly not believing Dean. Dean pulled the chair in the corner of the room closer to Castiel’s bed. “I know you like Led Zepplin.” He mused.

  Cas’ eyes went wide for a moment. “Zepplin… that’s a.. that’s my favorite band.” Dean snapped his finger, “Good taste!” he said cheerfully. Cas stared at him in disbelief as a few memories slipped through his mind. “I remember.. going to a concert” he mumbled under his breath. Dean smiled again, clapping his hands together. “Well see, now you know something about yourself.” A real smile pulled at the corners of Castiel’s mouth. Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back into his chair, “Zepplin still isn’t as good as ACDC though..” In the matter of seconds, Cas’ face snarled and he shook his head. “I beg to differ.” Yet again his face grew in disbelief, he had remembered something else.

Dean smiled to himself. Maybe he could help after all.