Going Live- A Destiel Fanfic

The End... For Now

|Dean| (possible trigger warnings ahead)

It's day number three hundred and six. I've told myself since day seven that today would be the day. He will wake up today.

So far I've been wrong each and every time.

But today is different. It's the two year aniversary of him moving in with me. It has to be today. It has to be today, not because the doctors said it would be today, but because if it isn't, I don't know if I can wait any longer.

I've sat through twenty too many sessions with a therapist who thinks they know me. I've went home to an empty house three hundred and six too many times. I've replayed the day a million too many times. I've said I love you a trillion times not enough.

Today will be the day. Today has to be the day.

~~~
It's a sunny day, just like thousands of other days, but today hits me different. From the hospital window, there isn't much of a view, and I've seen it all. The blonde nurse with a bow-legged walk that comes in at exact three every Monday, Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday. The red car that sits on the corner until the manager of the flower shop downstairs goes home at nine. The nest of Cardinals that have burrowed into the O of the Dounut Shop across the street where the first responders to our accident talk about their loved ones and plans for the weekend.

Inside the hospital room isn't much difference. I know where everything is and where it belongs. I can tell when they turn down the room temperature because of the chills that are sent down my back. What time the new shift workers come in because of the almost one minute of silence before shit hits the fan once again. I can tell when there is a new patient in the wing because of the chatter and gossip amongst the other "inmates" as I call them. It's a prison of sorrow and shattered hope here. Whenever I think there might be a change, it seems this "God" turns the world against me. I've hope for only one thing. Castiel.

The only thing that has changed is Cas.

Two days ago they told me that his brain activity had increased and by some miracle, he is possibly going to wake up. They don't know when or how, but I don't need that. All I need is a possibly. I've spent nearly a year on not likelys and probably nots, all I need is a possibility.

His hand has grown cold and thin from the lack of good food and exercise, but it still fits perfectly in my hand. Skin to skin.

The black, oily hair that we never could seem to tame is now cut almost as short as mine and the small amount of stubble that line along his jawbone makes him look older than he is. His cheeks have sunken in, however it seems to increase his alluring nature. I don't know how, but even so close to death, he still manages to captivate me.

"Mr. Winchester, I'm here to administer Castiel's medicine," says a voice from behind me, which I recognize as the nurse named Hannah. Her dark hair is pulled away from her face and she wears scrubs that hang loosely on her small frame. Glasses frame her sky blue eyes and I know that if my heart wasn't set on the miracle of a man in front of me, I'd be trying to drown my sorrows in her love. I'd sell away my chances to heaven in a bedroom worshipping the devil. But the pain that settles deep in my heart lets me know that I'll never be able to move on.

"Okay, thank you Hannah," I reply moving my chair back to the corner of the room where it was placed before. She goes about the room in the same manner that I would imagine a cat would. Sleek and stalking, but silent in nature. Her lips purse slightly as she injects a clear liquid into his IV bag and checks over his vitals. 

As I'm watching her check over the tubes attached to his arms, a pulsing vibration runs down my leg coming from my pant pocket. My phone is ringing and when I check the caller ID, I know that it would be best if I leave the room for a moment. "I've got to take this. Let me know if anything happens while I'm out," I tell the nurse as I slip out of the room to answer the phone.

"Hey Dean.... It's Lucifer," he says as though he's unsure of himself and whether I remember him. "How's Castiel doing today?" Lucifer still won't talk to anyone but me. Sometimes I try to take him with me to the therapy sessions, but he won't leave the house accept to come to ours. He doesn't even tell jokes anymore. I don't know who's more broken anymore. Me. Him. Or Cas.

"He's okay. His vitals are still good and his brain activity has increased more and more since they started taking him out of the coma. They said he was finally healed enough. He's doing okay."

"And how are you Dean? Are you okay?"

It takes me a moment to gather everything I want to say. I want to tell him no. I want to break down in tears, screaming as I walk through the halls of this god forsaken hospital. I want to cut so deep that I see him in my head. I want to spend an eternity with him, alone with nothing but the sound of his laughter feeling my head. I want to die with him.

"I'm doing... I'm fine Luce. I'm just worried about him. They told me that he would be awake by now, but nothing as happened since you were last here," I choke out, staring at the pictures of polar bears that line the halls between rooms. 

"Dean. It's going to be okay. We are a family now and I promise that no matter what happens, we will always be with you. I know how much you love Cas and how much he loves you. That kind of bond isn't going to fade away. It's the kind that brings gods to their knees and raises sinners into heaven. I don't doubt for a minute that things aren't going to be okay."

"I know Luce. Its just-" 

All at once a huge group of nurses come running down the hall, their pagers buzzing in unison. I press my back to the wall, hoping to get out of the way without being trampled. "We need assistance in room 967, patient is going hysterical." My heart clenches in worry and I find myself taking off down the hallway with them, the phone in my hand vibrating as Lucifer tries to recall me. 967 is Cas' room. 

When I get to the room the door is wide open and there's shouting coming from inside. My feet fly through the door just as a glass vase of flowers is thrown and shatters against the wall. And I hear it. His voice yelling in confusion as he starts rips tubes and wires out of his arm, drawing thick red welts of blood as he does. "Where's Dean? Is he okay? Please what's going on?!" 

"Castiel, we need you to calm down. Sit down, Mr. Novak," Hannah pleads trying to restrain him. Two of the stronger nurses attempt to sit him back down, but it doesn't take much. He's frail but not enough that he can't throw things across the room. They manage to get him back down in the bed, but he doesn't calm until my own, weak voice whispers out:

"Cas. I'm right here." When his eyes meet mine there's only one thing that I can utter out as I rush to the bed and wrap my arms around him tight, "God Cas. I love you so god damn much."

I can't help but smile when I realize he smells like honeysuckles.