West Coast

Chapter Twenty-four

'Stop touching it,' Dean said, slapping Cas's hand away from his bandages for the thousandth time.

'It's itchy,' Cas complained.

He had been kept in the hospital for a week after his surgery, after a few issues with his blood pressure.

'Do you want them to keep you here longer? Just keep your hands to yourself.'

'Should I keep my hands on you instead?'

'None of that now, your brain can't handle it.'

Cas sighed.

'Don't give me that, I know you're just grumpy 'cause you haven't had my world famous grilled cheese in a while, so let's get you all packed up and go home, okay?'

'Fine.'

He'd been snippy all week, not speaking to the nurses, and getting annoyed when Dean ate his pudding cups.

'You don't even like the banana ones,' Dean pointed out.

'But you can't just take them, you have to at least ask.'

'All right, I'm sorry. Cas, can I please eat your pudding?'

Cas tutted, but let him take them.

To Dean's credit, Cas's thunderous mood didn't phase him at all, and he calmly talked Cas down every time his irritability got the better of him.

Cas was eventually, very carefully, wheeled out to Dean's car, and helped into the passenger seat by both Dean and a porter. The sun dazzled him briefly, and Dean passed him a pair of sunglasses.

'I'm not that bad,' he said irritably, as Dean helped him with his seatbelt.

'Shut up, you just had brain surgery.'

'I don't think it really counts-'

'Dude, there's literally a hole in your skull at this very moment. You're gonna get into semantics with me right now?'

Dean drove slowly and deliberately on the way home, circumventing potholes, and slowing around corners.

Cas rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

'You don't need to baby me,' he grumbled when Dean forced him into his chair, to be wheeled into the house.

'I'm not babying, I'm being careful. You're not healed all the way yet, so you better believe you're not getting out of bed until I say so.'

'Dean.'

'Sorry, but I'm not taking any arguments at this time.'

Dean sat Cas down on the bed.

'I want to walk around,' Cas complained. 'Do we still have that walker from my physio?'

'You're not walking around, not until you're better.'

'I feel fine.'

'Cas, listen to me,' Dean said, kneeling in front of him. 'You're not fine. You still have bandages on, and stitches in your head. So please, can you just relax? For me?'

Cas tutted, but lay back on the bed.

'I'll make you a sandwich.'

'Fine.'

Hoagie sat at the end of the bed and stared sadly at Cas.

'Don't you start,' Cas muttered.

Dean made Cas a sandwich, but kept himself busy for the rest of the day, checking in occasionally, and making sure Cas was staying in bed. He paced around the room the next morning, debating whether or not he should leave.