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***
When Castiel gets the call that his best friend is in the hospital with serious injuries, he drops everything including his after-hours business meeting he's been trying to wade through with his co-worker Meg.
“Meg, I have to go. Dean's in the hospital and it's not sounding good. Just,” Meg steps closer towards him, lips pouted. “Just tell them I've had a family emergency, I doubt I'll be in tomorrow.”
“I'm sure Dean's fine, stay here a little longer with me?”
Castiel gasps, taking several steps away from Meg and gathering some needed items to take with him. Phone, wallet, keys, Dean's insurance documents just in case along with his own.
“You have to go.” Castiel's tells her firmly, his gut is twisting with anxiety almost painfully and Meg hanging around beyond her welcome isn't helping. He shoves her coat and hat at her and shuffles her out the door.
Once she's gone, Castiel picks up his own coat and the bag he packed and heads out the door.
He runs straight into Meg who hasn't left. She has a sour look on her face as she stands with her arms folded across her chest.
“Off to save your boyfriend, huh?”
Castiel scowls at her. “He's not my boyfriend. He's my best friend.”
“Then I guess you won't mind,” She blocks him as he moves to go down the stairs of their apartment block and Castiel's heart hammers in his chest. He has to get to Dean, he doesn't know what's happened, the last time he'd seen him was a couple of hours ago when he got him from work. He and Meg had been neck deep in a clients finances that weren't adding up and he had guessed Dean had left them to get on with it.
Meg presses him against his front door and leans in, eyes closed. “despite the difficult finances, it was lovely to be here with you tonight. I enjoyed our little date .”
Castiel shoves and she reels back off him and he flies down the stairs to the building's parking lot before he can even think about what was about to happen. Dean is his priority. Megs just… being Meg and he regrets not staying at work for their meeting instead of bringing it back to the comfort of his home.
Castiel throws his car into gear and squeals out of the parking lot before his brain catches up to him, reminding him that he should drive safely, he'll be no use to Dean if he ends up in an accident because he was driving recklessly.
He hits every single red light possible, gets stuck behind every old granny driving twenty under and then struggles to find a space in the hospital parking lot. By the time he's parked, he's wrought with worry, stomach nauseous and head pounding with images of Dean hurt. He only hopes that his head is showing him the worse case and not what hell actually find.
There are two people in front of him at the reception desk, the woman at the front is spending far too long chatting about something that he bets isn't relevant and he can only hope couple in front of him are quick. Until he spots a nurse with a clipboard passing through.
“Excuse me,” He calls and she turns around.
“Are you okay, sir?”
“My best friend, I got a call to say he was admitted. Do you know where he'd be?”
“You're stood in the right place, ask the nurse at the reception.” She smiles, nodding at him before carrying on in the direction she was going.
Castiel swallows back a sick feeling.
It's not as bad as you think . He chants to himself over and over, keeping his breathing steady and trying to remember to count his breathing.
“Can I help you?” the nurse at the reception asks.
Castiel startles, stepping forward quickly.
“Dean Winchester, I'm his next of kin, he was brought in earlier.”
“Okay,” She taps quickly at her keyboard, squinting at the screen, searching for what information she needs. “and your name?”
“Castiel Novak.”
“Okay. I'll let his doctor know you're here and he'll come and see you as soon as he can.”
She gestures to a slightly more private waiting area, the chairs looking no more comfortable than in the triage area. He takes a seat, shedding his coat and laying it over his knees.
He pulls his phone out and checks for any messages and considers calling Sam. It's probably wise to wait until he's spoken to a doctor though, so he can tell Sam what's happening as he knows Dean's brother will be out here from California on the next flight if he knew Dean was hurt.
Castiel tries his best to shift his thoughts from thinking about Dean's potential injuries because picturing Dean bloody and dying is too much for him.
They've been best friends for over twenty years. He's still coming to terms with himself that he fucked up somewhere along the lines as he crushed on Dean in high school and fell in love with him as they moved in together when Cas went to college and Dean jumped at a job offer to restore classic vehicles. Now he doesn't know where he stands with Dean. Or where Dean stands with him. They've never talked about it.
“Mr. Novak?”
Castiel stands abruptly, and he ignores the rush to his head as the doctor beckons him. The doctor’s expression isn't helping his anxiety.
“Is Dean okay?”
“Mr. Novak-”
Castiel's insides freeze as the doctor explains that there'd been a fight in the bar and the assailants had followed Dean out and stabbed him. He tells Castiel that Dean's barely stable, that the knife had nicked his heart and his chances of survival are pretty low.
“Can't you fix his heart?”
“They're taking him into surgery very soon, to see if they can repair the damage,”
“Can I see him?” Castiel whimpers.
“You can, quickly, before they take him up. The longer we wait, I fear he'll have a lesser chance of survival.”
Castiel follows the doctor quickly, barely a pace behind him. It's as bad as he feared. What if he doesn't get a chance to tell Dean that he loves him. Even if Dean doesn't love him back.
The room is reminiscent of a war zone. Several people are crowded around Dean's body. There's blood everywhere, machines going haywire and doctors barking orders.
Castiel is frozen to the spot. Dean looks incredibly pale, his face gaunt and his eyes closed. He's horrified that this is the most relaxed he's seen Dean in months and it's because he's barely clinging onto life. Tears stream down Cas’ cheeks as he moves closer, dodging nurses and doctors and pulling away from the hand that grabs his shirt to pull him away.
He needs Dean. He needs to see him, to touch him. Dean can't go, he can't leave him. He doesn't care how selfish it is, he hasn't lived a day without speaking to Dean since they were eight years old.
He touches Dean and his skin is barely warm, a hand goes to Dean's cheek and he holds it there. He begs.
He traces the line of Dean's pendant where it's fallen from his neck and picks it up, holding it tightly in his hand until it leaves marks in his palm.
“Mr. Novak,” the doctor’s voice from before is gentle, soothing as he encourages him back out of the room. “We have to take him up to surgery, there's a families waiting room on the same level, third floor. I'll keep you updated.” Castiel nods numbly and stumbles out of the way as the nurses rush past him. The doctor blocks him from reaching out to Dean one last time.
Standing in the hallway for what feels like forever, Castiel finally finds his feet to move. The elevator is the easy option but the stairs are quieter, and so he takes them, all three flights. He's exhausted, tired, angry, hurt by the time he reaches the top. All the doors look the same but eventually, after much frustration, he finds the one he's after and goes in. There's a couple already in there so he sits in the opposite corner out of their way.
Castiel cries quietly, clutching Dean's amulet to his chest. Dean's worn it as long as he can remember and Dean had told him it held some kind of power to find something lost. He tucks his legs up to his chest, heels of his shoes on the squishy seat covers and lets his tears drip onto his kneecaps.
At eight years old, they had a teddy bear picnic in school not long after Dean had joined their elementary. Castiel had brought in his stuffed bee and coincidentally, Dean had borrowed his baby brothers identical stuffed bee and they'd bonded instantly. His own bee sits proudly on his nightstand and he knows Sam gave Dean his one years ago but it hides in Dean's closet. Castiel sniffs.
He's loved Dean for so long, the ache in his chest is so prominent now that he can feel every ounce of regret for not telling him. If… when Dean gets out of surgery with a newly repaired heart, he'll tell him, without a doubt.
Castiel remembers that he needs to tell Sam. He fumbles for his phone and pulls up Sam's name but freezes before he can make the call. What does he tell him? How do you tell someone's brother that they're chances of survival are minimal. How does he tell Sam that by the time he gets back to Kansas, his brother could be dead?
More tears fall and his phone chatters to the floor.
“Hey, Cas!” Castiel startles, his chair jolting, crashing against the wall.
Dean is in front of him, smiling as if just half an hour ago he wasn't wheeled past him barely alive.
The couple in the other corner scowl at him before returning to their quiet conversation. Castiel is clearly losing it. He's tired, stressed, beyond distraught over his best friend and now he's hallucinating.
Castiel stands up, avoiding the cheerful hallucination of Dean and leaves the room in an effort to find a restroom. He'll splash his face with water and wake himself up. Maybe grab a coffee from the vending machine on the way back through. He's in for a long night and he's not planning on sleeping, not that he'd be able to with Dean in such danger.
Dean follows him. He's whistling one of his favourite classic rock tunes, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. As Castiel enters the restroom and heads for the sinks, Dean is right there next to him, smirking like he does when he's teasing him.
“You're not here. You're not here.” Castiel growls into the mirror. He slams his eyes shut, thinking of anything but Dean, but his best friend is the only thing that fills his mind.
“Why the sad face, Cas?”
Castiel turns around, anger coursing through him. His head is playing horrible tricks on him. This isn't fair.
“You're not real! You're… you're…” He doesn't dare say the words. He dangles the pendant from his fingers and looks back up at Dean who's smiling at him gently with his arms folded across his chest. He looks just like Dean does whenever Cas gets home late from work, stressed and overworked. He looks like the Dean that makes him coffee on the weekends and tea late at night when they're binge-watching Dr. Sexy for the fifth time. He looks like the Dean he loves.
“I know. Pretty shit, huh?” Dean says, his voice no longer happy but a bare whisper.
“But…”
“I know.” Dean interrupts. Of course this Dean knows, he's a figment of Cas’ imagination.
“I'm dead, Cas. I never got the chance to tell you I love you.” Dean steps closer but all Castiel feels is a wisp of cold air. The restroom window is open, that's all.
“No.” It’s not Dean saying that, Dean’s not telling him he loves him.
“It's not fair. I know. Look at me, Cas.”
Castiel looks up at Dean and he looks as sad as Castiel feels. This Dean here is more than a hallucination, he realises.
This Dean is a ghost because Dean's dead.
Well and truly.
He doesn't want to look for too long, he wants to cherish every memory of Dean he'll ever have.
“Hey, Cas?”
Dean's for head comes to rest against his own, and a strange chill falls over him.
“Dean…” his name falls off his tongue like honey from a spoon.
“Come wake me up.”
When Castiel opens his eyes, Dean's gone.
Castiel dashes out of the bathroom, and back down the corridor. The doctor who spoke to him earlier, who promised him updates is about to enter the waiting room and he calls to him.
There's a quiet pause before the doctor begins to speak. “I'm sorry, Mr. Novak,”
“He's dead, isn't he?”
The doctor nods, “we did everything we could, we repaired the damage but there was substantial blood loss and his body just wasn't up for coming out of the anaesthesia.
Something strong inside Castiel keeps him from crumbling. “I want to see him.” He demands. He won't take no for an answer. He has Dean's request to uphold.
Come wake me up .
The doctor nods again and gestures him to follow down the narrow corridor and into a room to the side. It's quiet and cool and private. Dean's lying on a bed in the centre of the room. If he didn't know better, he'd think Dean was sleeping, but he does know, and he knows that's Dean's dead body.
“I'll leave you for a few moments.”
As soon as the doctor leaves, he's at Dean's side, a hand on his bare chest, the stitches down the centre a neat and tidy line. They look drastic, scarring, not that it matters but he knows Dean was always aware of his own body. Castiel loves every inch of him.
Castiel presses the pendant to Dean's chest, rests his forehead to Dean's and begs for Dean's life.
“I don't want to be lost anymore. I don't want to be without you.” Dean's voice is behind him but he doesn't look, just concentrates on the real Dean.
“I love you, Dean. Please,” tears slip from his eyes and drip onto Dean's bare chest. Without another thought, Castiel climbs up on the bed and holds Dean. His rational brain isn't thinking.
He turns his head a little, sees a woman stood behind Dean. She taller, dark skinned and dark haired, kind and wise looking. She's going to take Dean, but that can't happen.
He sobs. The words slip out, unbidden and foreign on his tongue, “Oh, Death, bring him back.” then, “I love you, Dean. Please. I need you.”
“He needs me. I need him.” Dean says behind him.
There's nothing but an intense silence then but he doesn't open his eyes, he doesn't want to see his best friend's dead body in his arms or the smile of Dean's ghost, he doesn't even want to see the kind face of Death herself, he just wants Dean back, above anything else.
“I need you,”
The voice is a quiet rumble beneath his cheek and he sits up blinking. Looking down at Dean - the real Dean - his eyes are open, just barely.
“Dean?”
“Yeah,” He rasps and Castiel's heart threatens to beat out of his own chest. Dean alive. Dean's alive .
Scrambling from the bed, Castiel races outside and calls for someone, anyone to come help because Dean was pronounced dead half an hour ago and now he's alive.
The same doctor from before comes jogging down the corridor, bursting into the room he and Dean are in.
“Mr. Winchester?”
“‘m here,”
The doctor smiles a little, checking Dean over quickly and attaching monitors back to Dean's body. The sound of the steady beep is music to Cas’ ears.
“You don't seem surprised,” Castiel accuses, narrowing his eyes and lacing his fingers into Dean's subconsciously.
“Well,” he starts, taking a step back from Dean. He seems unsure about speaking and fiddles with his clipboard.
“Is it to do with that woman who was here?”
“Billie is one of my adopted sisters. She died quite a few years ago now.”
“Oh,” Castiel's thumb mindlessly strokes over Dean's knuckles carefully. He may be alive but he's still hurt, his knuckles are bruised and cut and he's gone through death and back again. Dean deserves gentle.
“I died too but she came to me and demanded that I stayed. We had a few younger siblings too, our foster parents, they gave us so much, she wanted me to help them. And so I stayed. Shocked everyone, put it down as some medical mystery and sent me on my way.
“She hangs around and once in a blue moon this happens,” He gestures to Dean who's fallen unconscious again, likely exhausted from everything. Castiel panics for a moment that Dean's gone again but he's doesn't feel that dreaded ache like he did before and Dean's chest rises and falls slowly. He's sleeping.
“Thank you,” Castiel says.
“I'll go and alert the other doctors, this needs to be written up. We can maybe explain it away with your body heat or something,”
“Like mothers and their babies?” He remembers seeing it on a particularly heart-wrenching episode of Dr. Sexy.
“Just like that,” Castiel smiles, the doctor is impressed with him. “Dean will probably take a day or two to fully come round from his heart surgery, so don't worry if he's not alert straight away. The fact he was speaking a few minutes ago is a good sign that there's an unlikely chance of brain damage. But I know Billie, she's amazing.”
Cas has a lot of questions to ask Dean when he wakes up, but they can wait a little while. For now, he presses a kiss against Dean's forehead and smiles as the corner of Dean's lip quirks up.
***
The first chance he gets, while Dean has been wheeled away for various tests, Castiel calls Sam. He explains everything. Every inch of detail he can remember and Sam is as shocked as he was to learn about Billie.
Sam assures Cas that he'll be on the first flight out and Cas agrees.
Dean's back in his room when Cas puts down his phone. He stays awake for longer now, about an hour or two at a time before he sleeps.
“Why did you go to Purgatory when you usually go to the Roadhouse?” Castiel asks softly. The question has been playing on his mind ever since he was told where the incident happened.
Dean looks down. “I was upset and Ellen would have called me out and Jo would have teased. I just wanted to be anonymous for a few hours. I was planning to text you where I was. Drunk me can get a bit emotional, especially with Tequila. Some nasty asshole was leering over my shoulder and the next thing I knew he'd bashed me over the back. The bartender didn't do anything he just asked us to take it outside. I stumbled into the alleyway to get away, try and call you but there was more of ‘em. Never felt so hopeless. My dad taught me better than that.
“Cas? You and Meg, I didn't wanna… I saw her with you and I just ran away. I was so stupid.”
“Jesus, Dean… I should never have brought my work home with me. She's been fawning over me for months and I keep telling her to back off but she won't. Last night, she fucked up. She wanted me to stay after the hospital called about you. So I shoved her out the door. As soon as I'm back at work I'm raising a complaint about her to HR. I wasn't going to leave my best friend… the… the person I love most. I had to be here.” Castiel sits down, pulling Dean's hand towards his and entwining their fingers.
“You really love me?”
“I don't know how else I could convince you. I've loved you for at least ten years if not more.” Castiel feels his cheeks heat and he turns from Dean embarrassment, he should have told Dean a long time ago.
“You could always kiss me, and I could always kiss you back - to convince you I love you too.” Castiel's head snaps around and his cheeks heat further. “Only if you want,”
Of course Castiel wants to kiss Dean. It's one of the things he's been fantasising about for the past ten years. He leans in, one hand supporting himself on the other side of Dean's body and his other hand coming up to cradle Dean's face. Dean's hands rest gently on either side of his ribcage, caressing lightly. Their lips meet and none of his fantasies even come close to how amazing it feels to have Dean's lips against his. The touch is soft, careful.
Dean's still healing, he's still hurting a little and Castiel worries he'll hurt him. “I've dreamed about this,” Dean whispers against the corner of Castiel's mouth as they pause.
“Me too.”
“Can't believe it took us so long. We were both right next to each other the whole time.” Dean chuckles but winces and rests his forehead against Castiel's. This closeness, the gentle intimacy, feels good - better than he ever imagined. He looks forward to spending evenings on the couch with his head in Dean's lap (or vice versa) watching their sixth rerun of Dr. Sexy and just being close with him. He can't wait for their morning kisses before work, before bed, after breakfast, while cooking. He can't wait to share his space with Dean, his bed, maybe even the shower. Maybe they'll get a chance to be even more intimate, the thought makes heat flush inside him and he closes his eyes.
He gets a second chance with Dean. To be with him for the first time as they should have done.
Maybe this was how it was always supposed to be, Castiel isn't sure he believes in fate, but he wonders how they'd have fared if they had admitted their feelings to each other ten years ago when they were young and reckless, when Castiel was stressed with college and ran was trying to get settled in to his job. He wonders if their relationship would have survived the death of Dean's father. Their friendship had barely survived it but they'd managed to keep it together because, at that point, each other was all they had.
“What are you thinking about?” Dean asks.
“Us.” He chuckles and kisses Dean's cheek. “Thinking about kissing you, on our couch watching Dr. Sexy.”
“And you said you hated the show just a few years ago, would you look at that,” Castiel pulls back from Dean and he can see he's straining to keep his eyes open. Dean needs all the sleep he can get, to heal better and go home sooner. The doctors want to make sure he's not going to suddenly keel over out of the blue but they seemed to have deemed him out of that danger.
“Sleep, Dean. I'll be right here,”
“Thanks, Cas,” Dean's eyes close and Castiel can tell he's fallen straight to sleep again. That is until Dean's hand wanders to his and holds on tight. “I love you, Cas.”
“I love you too, Dean.” He doesn't know if Dean heard him because Dean's fingers slacken and he relaxes against the pillows.
A few stray tears crawl down Cas’ cheeks, but he knows at least this time he's happy.