Chapter 8

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"The drunk mind speaks the sober heart." -Unknown

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Cas' Point of View

Cas was happy.

In fact, he wasn't unhappy before, he was just boring; as boring as a person can get, like a sponge who had been squeezed out.

Now, he was soaking in life again; especially when Dean brought a gift.

Dean sulked in, a wicked grin on his freckled face, he was carrying an aqua colored gift bag, the words, "Get better soon!" etched on it.

Castiel smiled at Dean, as the young man pulled his chair up forward; a wide smirk on his face.

"What's that?" Cas asked, pushing back his pain as he sat up.

"I'm glad you asked Cas," Dean started, passing Castiel the bright bag, "why don't you open it up?"

Castiel rolled his eyes, oddly exhilarated to the fact that he got a gift. Cas removed the newspapers from the top of the gift; not surprised that Dean couldn't find tissue paper.

The Winchester brought a bottle of whiskey.

Castiel looked up at him, his jaw slack, eyes wide with shock.

But, all Dean did was smile even wider.

"Dean, why the hell did you bring-" Cas hissed in a hushed voice, "whiskey?"

"To finish your list!" Dean exclaimed, eyes big, as if it was an ordinary thing to bring whiskey to a hospital room for a sick, dying boy.

"It's just a stupid list Dean," Cas murmured, but, Castiel was lying, it wasn't just a stupid list...it was something important to him, valuable as all the books scattered around, and the list was as valuable as Dean, his friend who chose to spend hours with Cas, which Cas thought himself was as dull as the same T.V advertisements that were on the old Television.

"It's not just a stupid list," Dean scowled, "it's your list of things to do-"

"Before I'm dead, which, if you haven't noticed, is probably going to be unfinished anyway!" Cas whispered angrily, wanting to yell, but, his fragile self couldn't even do that simple action.

Deans gaze softened, "I told you to not say stupid shit like that again," Dean mumbled.

Cas couldn't help it, he was too constructed by how he felt, pain in the back of his head, limbs numb, the urgency to vomit...he couldn't help but feel that he was dying, and Dean was either playing stupid or he really was that stupid to believe Cas had a chance.

Dean grabbed the bottle of whiskey, opening it up with ease, as if he was used to drinking.

Dean took a swig, shrugging at Castiel, "Whatever man, I'll have this drink to myself."

Castiel bit down on his lip, watching Dean take another drink, lips around the clear rim...Cas couldn't stop his mouth from savoring by Dean's reaction, as if he drank the most amazing thing in the world.

"Fine." Cas muttered, Dean handed him the bottle, and Castiel, unsure, placed his lips on the glass rim, taking in the honey colored alcohol in his mouth, swallowing it down, not expecting a burn to drag from his throat to his stomach. But, he liked the feeling, that deep burn across his chest, it was a different, foreign sensation...it didn't honestly hurt Cas, it just felt new and surprising. He took a larger gulp now, the burn sinking down to a low sizzling in his throat.  He had forgotten that Dean Winchester was sitting beside him, he was already getting lost.

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