Chapter Text
“Don’t you have that appointment today?”
Dean withdrew from under the Pontiac’s hood and looked at John. His father had stopped on his way to the line of jacks to frown up at the clock.
“Yeah. Wait, what time is it?”
“Ten to three.”
“Crap.” Dean put down the Allen wrench and wiped his hands on the nearest rag. “Sammy reminded me about it at breakfast, too.”
“You better get moving. I’ll finish that up.” John pointed to the garage’s sink. “Clean the oil off your face before you go. I don’t want you going in there looking like a grease monkey.”
Dean washed up hurriedly, then dashed to the office for the Impala’s keys.
“No, you’re going to have to walk, son.”
“What? Why?”
John glared. He didn’t appreciate his decisions being questioned, and Dean was usually good about remembering that, unlike Sam. But he was in a hurry.
“Because your mom asked me to pick your brother up from school in half an hour, and then I need to get her a couple things at the store on the way back.” John took up Dean’s tools and adjusted the lantern hanging above the engine. “That a good enough explanation for you?”
“Yes, sir,” Dean said. He instinctively lowered his eyes, even though John wasn’t looking at him. “Sorry. I’d better get going.”
“You can head home afterwards. Only got an oil change later.”
Dean strode out onto the sidewalk. He checked his watch and broke into a jog. The hospital was only a few minutes away, across Main Street and down past the shops and restaurants, right beside the bend in the creek where it passed through a series of drizzly rapids and kept flowing south. Still, Dean didn’t want to be late. What if he didn’t get there in time, and they gave his vaccine to someone else? Sam wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.
Of course, it was Sam’s fault that he was on his way to get the jab in the first place. He’d been nagging him for weeks, finally hovering over Dean’s shoulder and watching his laptop screen until Dean reluctantly agreed to schedule an appointment at the Angel County Medical Center. For his part, Dean didn’t see the point. He was 20 and healthy as a bull. Why did it matter if he was vaccinated or not? And then there were the side effects. Mom had spent the day in bed after her first shot, and people said the second was even worse. On the bright side, at least it was an excuse to take some time off from work.
Dean made it to the hospital’s reception area at two minutes past three. It was a sunny day, hot for early June, and he was sweating from his armpits and the middle of his back and the top of his head. Jo, who’d been working here at the front since the summer after their senior year, threw Dean an amused look.
“Everything okay?” she said. “You’re a little flushed.”
“Yeah, Dad just made me walk here from the garage. Or run, I guess.” Dean craned his neck to see Jo’s computer. “I’ve got a vaccine appointment.”
“Oh, alright.” She clicked her mouse a few times, then handed Dean a clipboard and a pen. “Have a seat, fill out this form. The second sheet is information about the vaccine.”
Dean sat down next to the fake-looking potted plant in the corner and made his way through the paperwork. There were a lot of questions about his medical history. He was lucky to be able to either leave all those questions blank or answer them in the negative. Mom liked to say that his only physical defect was his bowlegs, and a lot of women seemed to like those.
Dean sometimes wondered if men liked them too. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be many gay or bi men in Huntersville, North Dakota. Other than him, of course.
When Dean presented the finished form to Jo, she walked him down the hospital’s central corridor, through the first set of doors, and into a small, square, uniformly white waiting room.
“Hold onto that,” she said. “Castiel will look over it when he gets here.”
“Castiel?”
“The nurse on duty right now. He’ll be with you soon. Just hang tight, he might be finishing up with another patient.”
“No worries.” Dean plunked down in one of the plastic chairs. “I’ve got the rest of the day off.”
“Lucky you. I’m here until nine.”
Dean flinched. “On a Friday?”
“People don’t stop coming in because it’s Friday.” Jo winked. “See you later, Dean.”
She slipped into the hallway, and Dean occupied himself for the next few minutes by peering at the various posters on the wall. One of them was a map of the human digestive system with all the organs brightly colored. Another documented the warning signs of a stroke. A third evangelized the manifold benefits of a diet rich in vegetables, fruits, and whole grains. Dean glared at that last one. No matter what any lab coat said, there was no way he’d ever go vegan. It was bad enough that their house was doing “Meatless Mondays” now, at Sam’s insistence.
Dean was still shaking his head in disgust when the door to the examination room yawned open. A slim, blue-eyed man in aqua scrubs and a surgical mask walked in and introduced himself as Castiel. His voice was way deeper than Dean expected it to be, given his frame.
“You’re here for the COVID vaccine, correct? First dose?”
“Yes, sir,” Dean said, passing him his paperwork. “I know I’m a couple months late. My kid brother’s the only reason I bit the bullet, to be honest.”
“Oh really?”
“Uh-huh. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anything against the vaccine. I just figured I wouldn’t need it.”
“Ah. Well, I’d be happy to answer any questions you have about it. And I’m glad you decided to come in. The more people who get vaccinated, the better.” Castiel flipped over the sheet. “Looks like everything’s good here, Dean.”
Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I’m lucky. My only birth defect’s my legs.”
Castiel blinked.
“They’re, uh.” Dean pushed them apart with his hands. “They’re bowlegs. They bend out a little.”
“Are they? I didn’t even notice.”
“Yeah, I’m sitting down. You’d notice more if you saw me walking. Especially from behind. Uh, I mean…not that there’d be any reason for you to do that.”
Castiel nodded slowly.
“A lot of ladies appreciate them,” Dean rambled on. “I like to joke I got them riding horses. Sometimes I even say I used to travel the rodeo circuit.”
“Oh, are you a rodeo cowboy?”
“Nah, a mechanical bull’s pretty much my limit. Medium setting.” Dean cleared his throat, closed his legs. “The riding part’s not a lie, though; I’ve been on a horse once or twice. But who hasn’t in rural North Dakota?”
“Not me,” Castiel said. He lay Dean’s patient form on the counter and walked to a medical cart at the other end of the room. “But I’ve only lived here for a few months.”
“That’s surprising. Not too many people relocating to Huntersville. Unless they’re working on the oil rigs.”
“That’s precisely why I moved here. Not to drill myself, but to meet the demand for medical staff in Angel County with all the people moving in.” Castiel came back to him. “Alright, which arm?”
“Uh, left.” Dean rolled up the sleeve of his T-shirt, and Castiel swabbed his skin with cool alcohol. “So, where’re you from originally?”
“My family’s from the Chicago suburbs, but I’ve lived in L.A. with my brother for the last few years.” Castiel stepped back, his eyes crinkling. “Just relax your arm a little for me, Dean.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Dean wiggled in his seat, cleared his throat.
“Is it the needle?”
“No, I’m fine with needles and blood and all that. Don’t know why I’m all tense.”
Castiel moved in with the needle again. There was the tiniest hint of a prick, and then it was done. Castiel returned to the cart.
“Now I need to observe you for the next fifteen minutes, just to make sure you don’t have a bad reaction. Let me know if you feel anything unusual.” He glanced at the clock, wrote something down. “3:28. I’m recording it so we know when you’re free to go.”
“No problem.” Dean sat back in his chair. “So, L.A., huh? North Dakota must be a big change for you.”
“It is,” he said evenly, as if afraid of causing offense. “But it’s an interesting experience.”
“No way is it as interesting as California.”
“It’s interesting in a different way. The scenery is beautiful. Desolate. Parts of the badlands look like the surface of the Moon or some alien planet. And…I find bison very cute.”
Dean scoffed. “Ever smell one?”
“No. The park brochure said to watch them from a distance.”
“Teddy Roosevelt?”
“Mhm.” Castiel took a seat across from him. “My brother and I went the first week we moved here, back in January. He drives all around western North Dakota for his job. Sometimes I tag along.”
“What’s his job? Something to do with the oil rigs?”
“In a way. He’s a screenwriter who’s trying to break into directing. He’s making a documentary right now called Halcyon Days, about life after the boom. The challenges facing workers and local communities now that the price of oil’s down and the pandemic’s making everything harder.”
“Oh, that’s why you guys lived in L.A.”
“Yes. Well, that’s why he went to L.A. I moved to the West Coast for college. We got a place together a few years ago to save money.” Castiel looked up at the clock. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.” Dean grinned with his eyes. “Got the rest of the day off.”
“Oh,” Castiel said back. After a delay, he returned Dean’s smile. “What do you do?”
“I work at my dad’s garage. We’re mechanics, and his business partner does auto body repair on the other side of the building.”
“Do you like it?”
Dean hesitated. It wasn’t a weird question, just an unexpected one. People usually didn’t ask him whether he liked what he was doing with his life. Dad certainly didn’t.
“It’s not bad,” Dean replied. “I kind of always figured it’s what I’d end up doing.”
Castiel nodded.
“Not sure if it’s what I want to do for the rest of my life, but….” Dean sat up a little. “What about you? You like, uh, nursing?”
“Oh, sure. It’s hard work, but there aren’t many fields that have such a direct positive impact on people’s lives.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.” Dean rubbed his upper arm.
“Is it sore?”
“Nah, don’t feel anything yet. My mom’s arm was sore when she got her shot, though.”
“It’s a common side effect. Just remember to rest and drink plenty of water. Try to give it some gentle motion, too. It should go away within a few days at most.”
“Okay. When am I supposed to come back in for the next one, again?”
“Oh!” Castiel shot up and hurried to his cart. “I didn’t give you your card. I was so engrossed by our conversation that I forgot.”
Dean laughed. “Don’t sweat it. It’s a compliment.”
“Here you go.” Castiel handed him a small cardstock rectangle. “This records the date of your first dose. You received the Moderna mRNA vaccine, so that means you’ll be coming back for your second shot in four weeks’ time. You’ll get an email reminder a day or two beforehand, too.”
“Oh, sweet.” Dean stuck the card in his pocket. “Can’t wait to get another Friday afternoon off work.”
“I’m jealous. I don’t get off for a while.”
“What time?” Dean wet his lips with his tongue. “I mean, maybe we could get a couple beers, keep this conversation going?”
Castiel’s eyes went wide. He shuffled a half-step back on the hospital linoleum.
“Never mind,” Dean said hastily. “Sorry, it’s just a small town thing. You just invite anyone you meet for a drink. You don’t really think—”
“No, it’s not—I’d love to hang out. It’s been ages since I did anything interesting on Friday night. It’s just, you know. The pandemic.”
“Right.” Dean chuckled. “Forgot about that little complication.”
“You know, since moving here, I haven’t been to a single bar or restaurant in town. Gabe and I just cook at home. Occasionally, we’ll get takeout.”
“You’re not missing much. I like to say the best restaurant in Angel County’s my mom’s kitchen. And the best bar’s my dad’s liquor cabinet.”
Castiel laughed and looked down at his hands. He was interlacing his fingers and rubbing his thumbs together.
“And that’s saying something,” Dean added, in hopes of keeping Castiel’s laughter going. “Because my mom isn’t even a very good cook.”
“I’ll take your word for it. But I imagine you’re right. It is…very sparsely populated here. Not many amenities. But the work’s fulfilling, at least.”
He glanced up at Dean shyly, then quickly averted his eyes. He turned his wrist to read his watch.
“3:23. Five minutes to go.”
“Have you actually had anyone fall over or something after shooting them up with one of these?”
“No, immediate adverse reactions are incredibly rare. These are very safe vaccines. But such reactions can be life-threatening, which is why we need an observation period.”
“You sound like a textbook,” Dean teased.
“Do I? I hope that’s not a bad thing.”
“No, it’s a good thing. It makes you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh.” Castiel sat down again on the other side of the room. “I’m glad to hear that.”
For the first time since Castiel had entered the examination room, the two of them fell quiet. Dean didn’t know what Castiel was doing, since he was gazing down at the floor between his knees, trying to decide what to say next.
He had to admit it was weird, but he was pretty sure he already had a crush on Castiel, despite not being able to see his face. Well, not all of it, at least. But he could see his sky-blue eyes and his messy brown hair; his slender neck and his large, gentle hands. He could hear his low gravel voice and the warm dance of his laugh. He could imagine talking to him all evening long and being authentically interested in what they were saying to one another until it was time to head home.
That was enough for a crush, right? Besides, not being able to see Castiel’s lips yet made it more exciting in a way. Like something was being left to the imagination.
“3:28,” Castiel said. He smiled when Dean looked up. “You’re free to go, Dean. Unless you’re feeling weird at all.”
“Nope,” Dean said, which was sort of a lie. He was feeling a little weird. But good weird.
“Then we’ll see you for your second dose.” Castiel reached for the door, held it open for Dean.
“Yeah. Yeah, sounds good.” Dean paused in the doorway. “Should I ask for you when I come back in, or….”
“Oh.” Castiel averted his eyes again. “Well, I’m usually on duty on Friday afternoons, so I’ll probably be here. But you should just check in with Jo at the front. She’ll take care of everything.”
“Right. Makes sense.” Dean cleared his throat. “Um…see you around, then. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, Dean. It was nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you,” Dean said. He backed out into the corridor and narrowly missed being hit by an orderly pushing a trolley of linens. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Are you okay?” Castiel said, once she’d continued on, sighing and grumbling.
“Yeah, my fault. Wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Dean scratched his head. They were a few yards from the outpatient department’s main doors now, and he couldn’t think of a way to quit the conversation gracefully. As gracefully as he could manage after nearly being squashed into a pancake by the laundry service, in any case.
“Well, you have a nice day, Dean.” Castiel waved.
“You—you have a nice day,” Dean said, both too loudly and too quickly.
He fumbled behind him for the door handle. Before he could find it, the double doors flew open, thwacking into his shoulder and butt. A herd of people rushed past him into the depths of the Angel County Medical Center, muttering to each other in harried tones. Castiel pressed himself against the wall as they swept by.
“That’s generally not a good place to stand in a hospital,” Castiel noted, as Dean rubbed his shoulder. “Actually, this whole corridor’s a high-traffic area.”
“I’m beginning to get that impression,” Dean laughed. “Guess I better go.”
Castiel waved again. “Have a good weekend, Dean.”
“See you in four weeks,” Dean said, before hurrying through the reception area and out into the June sun. When he got home, he’d have to thank Sam for making him get vaccinated.