A Winter's Tale (Destiel Fanfiction)

(7) A Winter's Tale

"It's eight a.m., dude."

Dean jerked awake on the little cot. Sam was shaking his shoulder gently, saying, "Wake up. We gotta clear out for a bit. They gotta give Cas some lung x-rays and stuff and they need the cot folded up."

Dean immediately glanced over at Cas. Cas was on his side again— he'd shifted in the night and now was facing Dean— and he still had his eyes closed. Looked like he was still asleep. Some hospital staff were clustered by the curtains chatting softly outside, with a big machine on wheels visible just beyond the curtains.

A bright sunshine was shining through the room's little window. Past dawn, then. Dean still felt groggy with sleep; he'd practically been drooling on the mattress.

He sat up and wiped his mouth. Okay, so he had been drooling on the mattress.

"He okay?" whispered Dean, tottering up off the cot to get a closer look at Cas again.

"Yep," whispered Sam back. "Fever's almost gone - not totally, but, it's only like a hundred or something. But they want to check him all over and do some x-rays and diagnostics and clean him up. They say it'll be a couple hours. We're supposed to be out in five minutes."

Dean peered down at Cas. Cas actually did look a little better. More color in his face, and he looked more like he was in a normal sleep.

"Cas?" Sam said in what seemed a very loud voice, reaching past Dean to touch Cas's hand.

"Don't wake him!" hissed Dean, knocking Sam's hand away.

"The nurse said they're gonna wake him anyway," explained Sam, "In five minutes. And that it was okay if we woke him first to explain that we'll be back later. That is... if he can wake." He turned back to Cas. "Hey, Cas? They're gonna do some tests on you. Dean and I will be back in a couple hours."

Cas's eyes opened.

And this time, for the first time, he actually looked awake for real. Weak and groggy, blinking up at them, but his eyes seemed clear. And he immediately focused on their faces.

"Sam? Dean?" he said, squinting up at them each in turn, as they stood side-by-side by his bed. He glanced briefly around the room in some confusion and then looked back at them. "Is this a... hospital?"

His voice was just a hoarse, faint whisper, nowhere near its normal growl, but it seemed the most beautiful sound Dean had heard in a long time. Cas was awake. Awake and talking. For real.

"Yep, it's a hospital," Sam was saying. "Jeez, Cas, it's good to hear your voice!"

Dean leaned close, patting Cas's hand as he added, "We're taking you back to the bunker soon, Cas. Soon as you're ready to travel." It was the same thing he'd been telling Cas all night, through Cas's feverish delirium, and it still seemed like it was the thing he should clarify first.

"Oh," muttered Cas, blinking up at him. "Oh, really? That's... that's... marvelous. That's... really?... Dean, I... really?" Then he frowned, squinting at Dean. "Wait. Did you... did you tell me that already?"

About a hundred times last night, thought Dean. He said, "A few times. You've been kind of out of it."

Sam put in, "How are you feeling?"

"Tired..." said Cas. His voice was a little slurred, and he wasn't moving much, just barely turning his head slightly to be able to look at them. He also seemed only able to get out about two words at a time. "Very tired... it's... strange... how tired." He took a breath to say something else, and then curled up in a fit of coughing. Dean flinched at the harsh sound, patting him uselessly on the back a few times, and a nurse poked her head past the curtain to check in on them, but the coughing fit was short and soon ended on its own.