Always Cas | ✔

CHAPTER NINETEEN; part two

     When I come to, it feels like no time has passed at all. Cas is in the room. He's washing his hands at the sink. "How long was I out?" I say, feeling groggy. I slide up on the bed, glancing down at my arm. It's bandaged. I flex my fingers. I've still got motor function, so that's nice.

     "Not even an hour," Cas responds turning around from the sink and leaning against it as he looks at me. "Dolores is in the waiting room. Do you want me to send her in? I also spoke to Amelia and she's coming in."

     I groan.

     "They're your family and you've been shot," Cas responds tone just as disgruntled as I feel. "What happened? Do you remember?"

     "Of course I remember," I say. "I wasn't shot in the head."

     Cas glares at me. Before either of us can speak a woman steps into the room, glances between us before saying, "Doc, the police are here and are asking to speak with Mr. Gibson."

     "Can they wait? He's recovering."

     "It's okay, Cas. You can send them in."

     She looks at Cas like that's who she takes orders from, which I suppose it is. Cas nods, and she leaves. A moment later, Officer Armand and Perkins walk in. Armand says, "Dolores showed us the security footage. They're running facial recognition at the precinct now, so we should have the guy by tomorrow. We do need to take a statement, though."

     "Right," I say and I tell them, to the best of my memory, what happened. Cas remains in the room for it, which I don't mind, but then I have to watch the way his expression changes during certain points of the conversation.

     The police take the notes they need to and then leave.

     Cas has stepped up to the side of my bed, shoots me a heated look and goes, "What is wrong with you?"

     "Aside from having been shot? Nothing. Though I was short of breath for a bit there."

     "Yeah, you were short of breath because there wasn't enough fluids in you to move the oxygen through your body," Cas explains quickly like this is common knowledge. "Why would you instigate someone with a gun? A gun that they fully intended, and did, use on you?"

     "I didn't instigate anything," I respond terse. "But I certainly wasn't going to beg for my life to some low life asshole."

     "Maybe I'm better than you," Cas cries. "That's inciting. Do you not know deescalation?"

     "Why are you yelling at me?"

     "Because you were shot!"

     We both glance at the door, which is closed. It's glass so we can see that nobody on the other side of it even flinched at Cas yelling. His chest is heaving and he's gripping the side rail of my bed. I have to cross my left arm over my chest to reach out and put my hand on his.

     "I'm okay," I say. "I'm fine."

     He bends over, drops his head on top of my hand. We stay like that for some time. It's a peace I don't want to break, so I don't. Cas does. He says, "I have to go be a doctor." He sits up, looks at me levelly. "But I'm not discharging you until I get off, so. Take a nap."

     "This is kidnapping," I say.

     Cas grins. "It's not. You've still got 200cc's of cipro to go. And you need to wait for the pharmacy to get you your prescriptions, anyway."

      "Prescriptions for what?" I ask.

     "Amoxicillin, and six days of tramadol."

     "Tramadol?"