Castiel had busied himself unpacking after he had set up his wifi. He happily saw there was already a nice big screen smart tv placed prominently on the main wall of the sizable Barnhouse's living room. He unpacked and set up his computer, small stereo and hooked up his DVR/DVD player. Then he started his favorite relaxing playlist and began unpacking his kitchen items and putting away his groceries and pantry staples.
His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten since very early this morning when he got up to begin the long drive to this...this nowheresville of a town. Even while "in town" at the clinic, he hardly saw too much of a town. Granted his mind was preoccupied with a mental list of things he needed to get done before he picked up Claire and Jack from his brother Gabriel's house tomorrow evening.
He hadn't planned on staying at the hospital...uh, clinic, as long as he had and his ice cream had half-melted. He was glad he'd purchased the good-sized ice chest and filled it with ice to keep his groceries chilled on the long drive here. He had thought he'd better pick up extra groceries before leaving civilization since he wasn't sure of the variety of items at the local grocer nor how well stocked they may be.
He quickly chopped some onions, bell peppers, and a small bit of celery, broccoli florets and shallots. He really wanted a quick shrimp sauté, but with the late hour and so much to do, he had neither the time nor the inclination to clean and peel the fresh shrimp he'd purchased. He peeled and diced a few new potatoes and drizzled olive oil in the pan. He tossed in the onions, bell peppers and celery and let them sizzle while he cut a chicken breast into thin strips. He thought he heard a noise.
He washed his hands and decided to pour himself a glass of wine, stirring his vegetables and adding in cayenne, paprika, fresh thyme and a few other choice spices. He rarely spiced his food up this much anymore, because most of the meals he made had to be kid friendly, and spicy and children don't mix well.
Checking to see the onions were almost translucent, he tossed in a bit of curry powder and the potatoes. There it was again. He grabbed his phone and lowered the volume. Yes, there was definitely something scratching at his door. He looked around. He had no weapon. Did they have cougars or bear out here? He quickly pulled his pan off the fire and grabbed the fireplace poker. He peeked out the peephole, but didn't see anything. He heard the noise by the kitchen side door. He crept over and leaned to look out the window. Nothing. Now it was back at the front door again. And at this point Castiel put the poker down, because he was positive it was no bear or mountain lion. It was definitely the sound of a dog that was sad or scared. He opened his door to see there was a dog. A very cute, medium-size, very fluffy dog. It had backed up a bit from the door and stood warily examining Castiel. He could see that there was no collar.
"Hey, Boy." Castiel knelt and softened his voice. Obviously, this dog was abandoned and frightened. It had been lightly raining for the past hour and Castiel noted the completely muddy state of the poor, wet animal. He presented the back of his hand to sniff and gently coaxed and cooed until the dog decided he was friend and not foe. Finally, Castiel was able to get the dog inside and was immediately rewarded with a big, wet kiss and muddy paws all over him. He laughed and decided he'd quickly give the dog a bath, because who knew if this dog was the type to jump on furniture. His dinner would have to wait.
Castiel grabbed the Dawn dish liquid, and called the dog to the bathroom. Surprisingly, the little fellow jumped right into the tub as soon as Castiel bent to turn on the water.
"Well, what a good..." Cas leaned over to examine the underside of the dog. "Girl! What a good girl! You like baths?"
Well, apparently whoever had owned the dog before raised a well-mannered and happy animal. Castiel was able to make quick work of the bath, quickly pulling the shower curtain closed when the dog began to shake the water off in the end.
Castiel toweled the dog off as much as possible and dug in the box on the floor labeled "Bathroom." He pulled out the blow dryer and a large toothed comb and began working on the furry creature. The dog sat obediently, all the while wagging her tail. Castiel was impressed and began saying common dog names trying to see if the dog responded to any. Even though the dog was in such a sorry state, she seemed to be perfectly healthy. He'd have to ask around and try to see if she still belonged to anyone.
After cleaning the tub and wiping down the floor, Castiel headed back to the kitchen and his dinner. He pulled a second chicken breast out for the dog. He really had nothing much else to offer the poor creature tonight. He grabbed a serving bowl and filled it with water. The dog greedily consumed several gulps.
Castiel pulled out a second pan and poured a little chicken broth in as it heated, before placing the second breast in it. He returned to his pan that was just heating up to a sizzle again. He stirred the contents until the potatoes were almost done and put in the chicken, some fresh minced garlic, the green onions, a bit of broth and a splash of his wine. Finally, he tossed in the broccoli. He cut himself a beefy tomato and sliced up a cucumber, tossed in fresh spinach and quickly mixed up a vinaigrette to go over it. He sliced a bit of fresh baked bread he had picked up from his favorite bakery before leaving the city and cut himself a few slices of cheese. He was suddenly famished.
When all was set at the table and he'd refilled his wine glass, he sat down and put the dog's chicken breast down. Obviously, the dog was as hungry, if not more so, than he was.
By the time he'd finished eating, cleaned the kitchen, emptied the majority of the boxes and showered, it was well past midnight. The kids could finish emptying the few boxes left. Most of it was their toys, books and clothes anyway. Castiel locked up, refilled the dog's water bowl, turned out the lights and headed to his new bedroom. He was surprised that the mattress was actually perfect for him, not too hard, not too soft. He checked his alarm and was just rolling over after turning off the light when the dog jumped on the bed, did two circles and settled down to sleep next to him with his chin on Castiel's hip. Cas gently massaged the dog's head, smiling to himself, and promptly fell asleep.
Castiel had woken with a start when his alarm went off. He'd forgotten there was a dog in bed with him. He opened the kitchen door for the dog and found it was still raining. The dog ran out anyway, but stayed against the house under the eaves. Castiel saw the dog squat down, do her business and quickly run back inside.
"Well," he said to himself, "looks like you might have yourself a dog, Castiel Novak."
He fed the dog another chicken breast, gave her fresh water, made himself a quick bowl of cereal with sliced banana and some green tea. After cleaning the kitchen, he took a quick shower and readied to leave. He opened the door to see if the dog would leave. The dog would not go outside and just sat there looking at him expectantly.
He went to the cupboard, poured some Cheerios in a bowl, filled the water bowl again and left to his car. He came back inside, turned the television on to Animal Planet, pet the dog on its head and left again. He hoped he would not come home to find the sofa eaten or the door scratched up.
Castiel Novak loved his work. He really enjoyed meeting and helping people. He just was in an awful mood because this was not the venue of his choosing. He tried to clear the grumpiness out of his head as he drove to the clinic. He missed the twins, even though it'd only been one day since he'd seen them. He really needed to get them settled, find things for them to do, find out more about school and get them comfortable in their new home. He really wanted them to be happy and needed to change his own attitude starting right now, before they sensed how he felt and ruin any excitement they had over moving to the country.
Though he still felt like the dark, rainy morning, he resolved to be positive and felt better as he pulled into the clinic parking lot just as the rising sun began peeking through the parting clouds. He smiled, feeling that it was a good sign.
Doctor Novak greeted the nurses and called an introductory meeting to familiarize himself with the staff and general procedures and systems. One of the nurses' aides gave him a cursory tour of the facilities, which was hardly necessary since he'd seen much of it yesterday when he was pressed into work prematurely. He was given a quick rundown of his appointments for the day and overnight patients stats. Just two overnight patients. One being monitored for a kidney stone passing which caused a minor infection and the other, the broken leg of Dean Winchester. He headed out to make rounds.
Dean awoke slowly. He had great difficulty opening his eyes and his head felt like he had the worst hangover ever. He could barely focus on anything and blinked rapidly. He still couldn't see anything; everything was a big blur. Why was he so groggy? God, his mouth felt like he'd eaten an entire bag of sand and cotton balls.
And WHY was the curtain in his bedroom open to the giant blazing sunrise?!
Fine! He'd keep his eyes closed until he woke up a little bit more. It's not the first morning of his life he'd been so drunk that he had these issues. He couldn't remember the amount of times he had to find his way around his home drunk and in the dark. All he knew was that he had to piss like a racehorse and needed the bathroom NOW! His leg felt heavy and seemed to be stuck in the blankets or on the footboard. Eyes closed, he sat up and extracted his leg from the covers or whatever. He didn't care. He must've fallen asleep with his leg on the footboard tangled in covers and stayed that way all night because it felt like his leg was asleep and had been bent at an odd angle all night.
"Man! I guess I had a good time, whatever I did last night," Dean mumbled with a smirk as he swung his legs over the side of the bed rubbing his eyes. He really felt the urge to go as soon as he had sat fully upright and decided he'd sprint to his bathroom as soon as his feet hit the floor.
Unfortunately, the rest of his body also hit the floor as soon as he pushed himself off the bed. He frantically tried reaching for his nightstand as he felt himself falling, but found one arm entangled in tubes, monitor wires and the nurse call button/tv remote wires, which also caused him to spill the fresh pitcher of ice water on the table on top of himself on his way to meet the floor. His other hand had reached out and found the rolling overbed table, which immediately began to roll away from him and flipped over as he blindly tried to steady himself, but only succeeded in pulling it down on top of him. Besides the shock and pain of the fall, the icy water did him in; he peed on himself, and then just lay on the floor crying in pain and humiliation, and yelling in anger as strong hands began to lift him.
"Mirry! Miracle!" Dean frantically called out flailing his arms at the people trying to help him.
Castiel had just exited the kidney stone patient's room and was heading down the hall towards Mr. Winchester's room when he heard the crash. Yelling for a nurse or orderly to help, he rushed into Dean's room at the same time as one of the nurses. Thankfully, it was one of the large, strong male nurses.
Dean landed a hard right fist directly on someone's nose. He didn't care. He just couldn't deal with all these people pulling and grabbing him right now.
They grasped Dean beneath the arms and began to lift him up. It took a lot of struggling and trying to get their calming words to sink in over Dean's yells and struggles, but they finally got him settled back into the bed.
Castiel instructed the nurse to ready another sedative as they continued trying to get Dean to calm down.
"Please, Mr. Winchester. You've got to calm down. You may have done serious injury to your broken leg!" Castiel, hand pinching his own nose, tried to sooth through the pain, and blood dripping from one nostril down his lip.
"Why did you get out of bed?" Cas tilted his head in concern.
"I was- I was trying to get comfortable, and was really thirsty and I needed the bathroom, then I started to run to the bathroom and I began to fall. As soon as I got out of bed, I...I... just began to fall, I guess I knocked things over and onto the floor and- and myself. S-S-Someone tossed cold water all over me, all over me." Dean rubbed his eyes in despair and threw his hands in the air, frustrated.
Cas sighed, "Well, you should not have even attempted to get out of bed at all. Please, try to relax. I've ordered a sedative for you, nothing strong. It will just allow you to relax a bit and alleviate any additional pain or discomfort you have possibly caused yourself."
The tall nurse was busying himself adjusting Dean more suitably in the bed on some towels he had laid out beneath his patient. Dr. Novak glanced at the nurse's name tag quickly.
"Uh, Nurse Ezekiel, here will help get you settled back in bed, cleaned up and change your clothing. I was planning on releasing you this morning, but since your recent mishap, I'll be keeping you for observation and a re-examination until at least late afternoon to early this evening. You really seem to have a problem staying upright and on your feet, Mr. Winchester," Cas said in what he thought was a good-natured, bedside jesting tone as he winked at his patient.
"Once Nurse Ezekiel has, uh, finished cleaning you up," Castiel nodded towards Dean's crotch with a sympathetic smile, "and gotten you dry and comfortable, I'll be back in to examine you again. However, once he has gotten you settled I need you to stay in that specific position to keep pressure off your leg... Since it is broken in a couple of places. We don't want swelling to occur."
Dean just sat, mouth agape, staring at the doctor. What was he talking about? WHY was a doctor in his room? Wait, now that his eyes were clearing, he slowly came to the realization that this was not his bedroom at home. He looked around, confused.
"My leg is broken. How did I break my leg?" Dean's voice rose with each syllable.
"Son of a—I don't remember how I even got here." He practically yelled, snatching his arm out of the grasp of the nurse who was straightening up the various wires and tubing around Dean. Cas nodded and spoke in a soft, soothing tone,
"Your friends brought you here yesterday and I arrived at a good time to help and do my job. However, being informed, and now having first hand knowledge of how... challenging you are. I am letting you know that you will be resting for 6 weeks. No heavy labor or serious work for the time being. But I'll give the details during my in-depth visit which I'll save until after Ezekiel here has completed his cleaning you up. I'll take my leave, so you can have some privacy."
Castiel tapped a light hand on the foot of the bed and smiled as he turned towards the door. "I'll return in about 20 minutes or so. I'm Doctor Novak, by the way. Doctor Castiel Novak." He winked at Dean and took his leave closing the door behind him. What was that?! Why did this doctor keep winking at him, and poorly at that. Dean's sleep-blurred vision wasn't fully cleared up yet, but he could see enough to know when he was being treated in a condescending manner. And by a doctor who couldn't even wink without scrunching both sides of his face up before the one eye would wink. Worst bedside manner ever. What kind of doctor makes fun of their patient falling out of bed? Dean began to steam about that. Even more so than thinking about his leg being broken. Can't be that bad anyway. Kids break their limbs all the time. No big deal. He suddenly became aware of Ezekiel unsnapping the sleeves of his hospital gown and beginning to lift it off. He moved his arm in a helpful gesture as the nurse gingerly grasped the very wet gown and started to roll it up from the bottom. This nurse is a pretty good-looking guy. Nice strong arms, and gentle, but firm touch. Dean looked up into the nurse's eyes and gave him one of his sexiest smiles and nodded.
"I have some warm bath water here in the basin. I'm going to give you a quick sponge bath to wash the urine off and have you feeling clean and fresh, and in a new clean, dry gown in no time."
Ezekiel spoke kindly and professionally without a hint of disgust or embarrassment as he went about his ministrations. Dean's breath caught in his throat as heat rose to his face. His mouth went dry and he almost laughed at the nurse's words, until he realized that he no longer had to piss like a racehorse or at all. Sweet Jesus. Did he pee himself? He was suddenly mortified and could feel himself beginning to gasp and knew he would most likely hyperventilate. What other humiliation had he been subject to that he didn't remember since yesterday? He started to involuntarily kick his good leg and tried to sit up. He felt a warm towel quickly placed over his exposed lower half and then the gentle, but firm hand of the nurse pressed against his chest.
"Woah, woah. It's ok, sir. Please relax. It's ok." The hand was still firmly splayed directly over the center of his chest.
"It's ok. It's ok."
The nurse's calm, soothing tone rumbled in his ears in an almost whisper. He felt another warm hand softly run down his hand and felt the "shh, shhh" wash over him. It oddly brought Dean back from the edge.
"Good, sir. Now breathe. Focus on the breath. Deep slow breaths."
Dean could hear the nurse breathing deeply in time to the words. He could feel the dizziness begin to dissipate.
"There. You see. Breathe. It's all ok."
The nurse had been giving soft pulses with the hand splayed over his bare chest. Dean could feel that his heart rate had slowed and seemed to be working to match the slow steady rhythm of the hand pulsing on his chest. He took a few more breaths and stole a still embarrassed, yet amazed, glance at the nurse.
"My father used to suffer from panic attacks. He had been held as a prisoner of war during the Korean War. This was the only thing that worked sometimes." The nurse spoke earnestly as he continued.
"I have been a nurse for over ten years and spent even longer than that taking care of my father as well as my nephew who was born with multiple birth defects and needs around the clock care. There is nothing that occurred here that should give you embarrassment or shame." The nurse slowly removed his hands and dipped them in the basin of warm water to pick up the washcloth again and ring it out. He held it up to Dean who nodded. Ezekiel resumed the washing. Dean was tense and still mortified, but no longer felt the extreme panic.
"Thanks, Ez...Zeke. D'you mind if I call you Zeke?" Dean asked. "No, that's quite fine, sir. It's been my nickname since I was a baby."
Zeke's hands were washing Dean intimately now and Dean turned to look at the mess on the floor. He could feel the panic arising again, but Ezekiel matter-of-factly asked him to lean left, then right. He rinsed the washcloth as he explained that next he was going to wash the length of Dean's legs. As he scrubbed Dean's legs, the nurse explained how next, he'd have Dean roll to one side, while he washed his backside and legs, then do the same on the other side. The entire time Ezekiel washed Dean, he spoke about what to expect next. In no time, Dean found that he was clean, dry, re-gowned, and had been made as comfortable as possible and all without feeling any further embarrassment. His temperature had been taken and blood pressure checked. He laid back and took deep, easy breaths.
"I have the orderly on his way to clean up and the doctor will be back momentarily I assume."
Dean's face immediately got hot again, and he felt the edge of anxiety nudging him towards full blown panic. He really did not want to be in here while the orderly cleaned HIS piss off the floor. He wished the earth would swallow him up right now. Just as he was thinking that, there was a quick knock on the door and it opened before he could speak. The orderly burst into the room with a mop and bucket, and some spray bottles and cleaning rags.
"Ok, Mr. Winchester." Ezekiel boomed.
"I'm going to take your blood pressure now and your temperature. Please place this under your tongue."
Dean was shocked out of his panic as he turned to look incredulously at the nurse who had just taken his temperature. As he turned to see if the nurse had lost his mind, he was greeted with a thermometer being offered to his open mouth. In confusion he lifted his tongue and felt the thermometer put in place. He closed his mouth, still staring at the nurse who was now looking intently at the digital readout. "Good, good. Ok, sir, Let's get your blood pressure." The nurse wrapped the cuff around Dean's arm and turned the pump on.
"And how are you feeling this morning, sir? Did you get a good night's rest?" Dean stared at the nurse like he had two heads.
"Uh, I guess, uh, I...I...don't really, um, I don't really remember last night, so I, uh, guess I slept uh, just fine?"
"A good night's rest is the best thing for a speedy recovery." Ezekiel nodded and began to remove the blood pressure cuff.
"Ok, Mr. Winchester, the sedative I injected into your saline drip should begin to take effect shortly. I'll leave you here to wait for the doctor's return." Ezekiel snugged the blankets around Dean's chin and turned to head towards the door. Dean felt anxious and glanced over to the side of the bed where he had fallen and made such a mess. All he saw was a clean floor, a fresh pitcher of ice water on the overbed rolling table and the door as it clicked closed. Realizing that Ezekiel was not as mad as a hatter, he gave the nurse a respectful nod.
"Thank you," he said simply and full of gratitude
Dean could feel the sedative beginning to take effect. He was feeling such gratitude for the smooth and subtle way the nurse distracted him from feeling self-conscious and embarrassed in front of the orderly as he cleaned. Dean hadn't even noticed the man actually cleaning. All he wanted to do was get up out of here and go home. How long had he been here anyway? Were the kids ok? Where was Miracle? He looked at his arm for his watch. Someone must've taken it off. He needed to call Sam. He looked towards the nightstand. Not his phone, but the room phone. He leaned as far as he could to grab it, but it was just out of reach. He sat back upright in order to get leverage to scoot himself closer to the edge of the bed. He leaned over again to try for the phone. Why do hospitals always put nightstands so far back against the walls when they know 99% of the time that the patient bed will be in the sitting up position making it difficult or impossible for the patient to get anything off of it. He noticed the equally out of reach pitcher of ice water and suddenly remembered how thirsty he was.
"Well, that's just cruel and inhumane!"
Mouth suddenly beyond desert dry, he licked his parched lips and looked longingly at the dark pink plastic and styrofoam container. He could hear the ice shifting in the water as it melted, mocking his thirst. He renewed his shifting efforts and then leaned as far over as he could.
"Just great," he mumbled as he realized he had leaned too far over in his groggy state and was once again heading towards the floor.
"MR. WINCHESTER!" He felt hands on his shoulders grasping him and pushing him back up right, saving him a headfirst tumble to the floor.
"PLEASE, Mr. Winchester! You've got to stop with this reckless behavior! I've honestly never seen a patient as accident-prone. Do you always make such rash decisions heedless of the jeopardy you place yourself in?!" Castiel admonished sharply as he finished shifting Dean back against the pillows.
"You should realize that your thoughtless actions may one day not only endanger yourself, but perhaps lead others into harm's way as they endeavor to save you from yourself?" Castiel pulled his hand away from Dean's shoulder and stared at his palm briefly. It was red. Dean felt a coolness on his left shoulder and then a plop onto his chest and stomach. He looked down. There was a smashed paper cup formerly filled with what looked like red jello.
"Is that...is that strawberry jello and ice cream?" Dean asked looking down at the cup now resting on his lap.
"Nooo. No. That would be, uh, Pop Your Cherry-Vanilla Cream gelato with a...a Squirt of Jizt Cherry," Dr. Novak leaned over to look at Dean's shoulder where Dean was now studying the cherry sauce's deep red handprint Castiel had left there, "much harder to get the stain off than strawberry jello."
"Here let me get some towels." Castiel went to the nearby sink and pulled several of the folded white paper towels from the dispenser. He used the spoon he picked up off the floor to scoop as much as he could back into the smushed paper ice cream cup, tossed it in the garbage can, and turned back to help Dean, who was already trying to wipe the melting red blobs off the sheet and his gown. Castiel began wiping up the blobs further down the blanket with firm and deliberate strokes, only thinking about how Gabriel was so proud of his new ice cream dessert, specifically designed to stain the lips and skin wherever it touched. This organic gelato's cherry sauce had excessive red-blue food dyes "added to give one's lips and flesh that blood-red come hither look." Exasperated, Castiel scrubbed harder, positive this blanket would give that "come hither look", to the lap of all its patients for the rest of its days.
It was at that moment, He noticed Mr.Winchester had stopped cleaning. Castiel had the distinct impression that he was being stared at. His wiping slowed to a stop in place on the spot on the blanket...that now seemed a bit higher and firmer than it had before. Castiel felt his own accursed hand involuntarily press the towels down to double check what he thought he was feeling as he tilted his head up to meet a scalding, but surprised startling green-eyed gaze from his patient. He stood upright, quickly removing his hand and averting his eyes.
"Apologies. I- I will get a nurse to- to assist you and bring a fresh gown. Please Mr. Winchester, for everyone's sake... Just. Don't. Move." Dean just watched wide-eyed as the doctor fled the room. Castiel pulled the door closed behind himself and looked skyward as he leaned back against the wall. Christ on a cracker! Gabriel always seemed to have a hand in Castiel's undoing in some way.
Dean thought his mouth was dry before, but now— He lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes. How does he always get himself in these predicaments? Seriously. Who else has these kinds of issues in their life? He hasn't been with anyone in a while and stupidly flashes his seductive, "hey, there" look at an obviously straight male nurse. It has to be the medication they'd given him. And this doctor? What is his issue? First he seemed to be almost mocking Dean when he had peed on himself. Dean put his hands over his eyes. Remembering the embarrassing incident. It could be the doctor was just trying to make him feel better by winking and smiling, but Dean didn't want to be placated or given sympathy. It just made him angrier about being in the position he was in. And he could also blame the doctor in part, because he was working on a place for the doctor to live when he stupidly had his mishap. But, jeez! Dean scrubbed his hands up and down his face and through his hair. What the hell with his body popping a boner while the doctor was wiping up the ice cream!? WHY did the doctor carry ice cream with him on his rounds? How unprofessional. Dean loved his little town, but how hard up were they to hire a podunk idiot of a doctor like that? Pop the Cherry Virgin Ice Cream? What was that? Why would a doctor be eating something named that at work? Everything about this doctor just made him balk. The only thing good about the man that he could think of right now was that he was extremely attractive, and had the most intriguing lips and bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. Attractive did not begin to describe the combination. Dean brought to mind the image of looking down at the top of the dark tousled hair as the doctor vigorously rubbed at the mess on the blanket covering his crotch. The pause, and then the slow upturn of those enormous blue eyes to look up at Dean... The look the doc gave him was so innocent, lovely and frightened that Dean saw it in slow motion, forgetting himself and his uncomfortable embarrassment for a moment. Really breathtaking! Something in him just wanted to reach out and touch that face in reassurance and stare into those blue eyes until he drowned. The door to his room opened after a quick knock. Adam walked in carrying fresh towels, washcloths and another fresh gown.
"What. Are you doing, man? What's going on. You're making me start to worry. Seriously, do I need to get in touch with your VA docs? I'm really getting concerned."
"What? No!" Dean sat up a little and shook his head.
"I mean I just was left in this room without any explanation or means of communication or sustenance. I'm thirsty, man. I need water. I need my phone. I need to get the hell outta here. C'mon, a little help here!"
Adam smirked at the red mess covering Dean from shoulder to lap.
"And this? What is all this?" The nurse put his bundle down to start the cleanup process.
"This!" Dean gestured to himself angrily.
"Blame this on that freak doctor walking around eating ice cream at wor..." Dean reddened noticing the doctor in question had walked into the room just in time to hear his denigrating remark. Dean rolled his eyes and hurriedly began to apologize. "
Look, Doc, I ..."
"Mr. Winchester, I know I'm not your favorite person, and I know no one 'intends' to break their leg, and end up in a hospital with a 'freak' doctor," Castiel raised both hands in a hooked finger-quotes gesture several times as he spoke in agitation,
"but please, if you can just stay 'immobile' in your bed for just a short while, perhaps I will be able to give you your diagnosis and care instructions and send you 'on your way'. And just so you know, that ice cream was meant to be my lunch, but because I was informed that food services were having an issue this morning and would be late with the patient breakfasts, I thought I'd offer it to you as a holdover until the meals arrived. I'm sorry that your decision to once again get up from the safety of your bed, led to me smashing it all over you as I saved you from crashing head first to the floor." Castiel did not mean to speak so harshly to his patient, but this particular one seemed to have a way of creating chaos and Castiel had enough chaos in his life created, however inadvertently, by his brother Gabriel.
"Now," he continued abruptly before Dean could interrupt, "first, I will give you details on the type of breaks you have. Secondly, I will discuss what steps we have taken so far. Third, I will finally re-examine your leg to check for any undoing of my previous work due to your tumble this morning. Fourth, I will lay out my intended course of care, which I am fully prepared for you to reject, argue against and flout at every possible moment of your convalescence. Do you have any pertinent questions before I commence?"
Dean opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't know whether to apologize or get angry. He closed his mouth. Then, as Adam pulled the sticky gown off,
"May I please have a drink of water? Please, I'm so thirsty." Castiel looked over at his patient feeling awash in guilt.
"Certainly, Mr. Winchester. I apologize. Yes, you certainly may."
He quickly grabbed the pitcher, filled the small pink cup to the brim, shoved the bendable straw in and held it to Dean's mouth. Dean backed his head away at being treated like an infant, but the sight of the cold water and his thirst overcame him, and he eagerly leaned into the straw and sucked the icy liquid down in one go. He looked up to see the doctor filling his cup again, thankfully. This time he was waiting and ready to take the straw in his mouth and suck down a second cup. As he was drinking he looked down at the long fingers holding the cup for him. They were slender and long, and Dr. Novak used them and held them in such an elegant way. strength and tenderness would be an apt description. Dean sucked on the straw creating a large slurp sound as he emptied it again.
Startled at the noise, he looked up into those blue eyes. Dean felt like he was in a waking bad dream, torn between thirst and anger, and guilt and intrigue. He averted his gaze from the blue depths and nodded in thanks.
"Yeah, that's not coming off anytime soon," announced Adam who had been scrubbing at the cherry stain on Dean's abdomen and chest.
"What is that anyway?"
"That's cherry juice sauce with extra food dye added especially to stain flesh red." Castiel said in a slightly annoyed tone.
"My brother, who owns an exotic adult bakery/confectionery/ice cream shop, tests new products out by giving me samples. This is his latest endeavor and I will have to let him know that it fulfills his requirements. However, I fail to see why anyone would like to walk around with that level of fruit stain on their lips, mouth or —other areas."
"Oh, yeah, I've heard about that place! It's new right?" Dean brightened up.
"What's it called Gerald's Sweet Treats? Or something like that."
"Gabriel's Sweet Spot." Castiel corrected, slightly exasperated.
"Yes." Dean snapped his fingers.
"That place is on my list. When's it open, Doc?"
"It soft opened one week ago, but he still had some things to get settled, so it only opened for a limited amount of hours a day, three days a week until next Saturday night when he'll have his official big grand opening party."
"Ah, now I get the— name of the Pop your Virgin Cherry cream." Dean was definitely struggling to stay awake now, fighting against the sedative.
"Ok, Dean. You're all set and clean again. Please don't do anything else to make me or any of the other nurses have to come back in here to bathe and change you a third time." Adam admonished. "Look, here's the nurse's call button. Call before you try doing anything yourself. And here," he opened the bedside table drawer and placed a plastic handheld urinal on the bed near Dean. "If you need to ...do other things, use the call button."
"Yeah, yeah. But Adam, how are the kids? How are Emma, Ben and Miracle? Sam's still got 'em, right? Do they know what happened? Are...are they worried? I need to see 'em." Dean asked with anxious concern.
"Of course! They're...they're fine," Adam waved his hand in a fan motion. "They know what happened and — well, they're just waiting for dad to get home. We didn't bring them because you needed rest last night and they had school today, but you'll be home later today, so no need to bring them here. You'll be seeing them when you get home. You can hold out until then, right?" Adam patted Dean's arm reassuringly.
"Yeah, I guess so." Dean seemed a little deflated, but agreed.
"Ok, do you want me to stick around while the doc talks to you or are you good?"
"Nah, I'm good. It's just a broken leg, right?"
"Well, not a—" Cas began.
"I'm good." Dean reiterated Adam put his hands up in surrender and backed towards the door.
"Ok. Remember! Use the call button first!" He left, pulling the door closed behind him. Castiel began by explaining to Dean the nature of the breaks of the tibia and fibula. He explained that following breakfast, he wanted to have a few quick X-rays to make sure the bones had not shifted in the fall, he stressed the need to keep swelling to a minimum by keeping the leg elevated and had just finished explaining the importance of toe wiggling to keep the limb from getting stiff and aiding in blood circulation when the food services worker entered the room.
"Oh, thank god! I'm starving!" Dean blurted out, all smiles. Dr. Novak paused in his consultation while the worker placed the food tray on the overbed table, rolled the table into position in front of Dean and removed the lid for him.
"Thanks, sweetheart!" Dean gave her his most adoring smile as he picked up the utensils to dig in. Castiel went on when Dean nodded towards him.
"Now, what I'm going to say next may change depending upon what the X-rays show us. You understand?" Dean nodded as he shoved another forkful of eggs in his mouth.
"You can cut to the chase and just tell me how soon I'm going to get this cast off." Dean said slapping the afflicted leg's thigh.
"Mr. Winchester, I just explained to you the delicate process of the mending of breaks of bones of the lower legs. Please understand that it takes more than just wearing a cast for a 'couple of' weeks' to properly heal your type of break." Castiel realized Dean was still feeling the effects of the sedative, but his little crash course in Dean Winchester logic had him bracing for a heavy pushback on his care recommendations.
"The number one thing you must adhere to is that you must stay completely off of your feet for at least three weeks. I mean no walking, no hopping, not even using crutches to go from one side of your house to the other. Bed to bathroom only if necessary and only using crutches with your broken leg held completely off the floor with absolutely no weight put on it. And definitely, no driving, no going shopping, and no work, as any heavy labor is absolutely out of the question. No excessive standing or putting pressure down on the leg in any way shape or form before a full six weeks has passed. You understand? No using your leg for at least six weeks!" Dean had stopped chewing and was just staring aghast at the doctor.
"No Heavy labor?... but I have to work on the farm."
Castiel sighed, "You'll have to have someone else do the work. No excuses! If you do not do as I say and stay off the leg until enough time has passed for them to knit back together properly, you can do serious long term damage that will most surely result in a permanent limp, possible constant fatigue, the affected leg being shorter which in turn, can result in back pain issues and foot pain issues, just to name a few things that may occur if you do not follow my instructions for your healing process . Also, in the end, if you do not follow the course of care, you may find you won't be able to do anything for a much longer period because you'll be spending more time healing further damage you've created from not listening. You need to be off your feet." Castiel warned sternly.
Dean shook his head. He had spent weeks working on that barn for this guy. "When can I go home?"
"I haven't even finished discussing the secondary aspect of your healing." Dr. Novak had had stubborn patients before, but Dean Winchester was trying his considerable patience.
Dean stared through the doctor with eyes unfocused. He really didn't need to hear all this, he just needed to get back home to his babies and get some work done. Harvest would be here soon enough and he had a multitude of projects to accomplish between now and then.
"This afternoon or evening, I'm going to have the physical therapist show you how to use the crutches properly for your type of injury in the long cast. Eventually , after your approximate six weeks in the long cast, I will switch you over to a soft boot walkable cast. That will need to be worn for a minimum of three weeks, but possibly up to six weeks, depending on how well you adhere to my instructions and how your bones are coming along. This soft boot will be used along with crutches. There is also the option, which many prefer nowadays, of using a knee scooter instead or in conjunction with crutches. For now I'll give you a prescription for Tylenol. Some people don't need that and an OTC version is fine. But bone healing pain and duration varies in everyone. Do what's right for you. Please" Castiel gave Dean a gentle friendly pat.
"one of the nurses will take you down to Radiology soon. "I'll let you know shortly thereafter what the verdict is." Dr. Novak left the door cracked open slightly as he went. Dean stopped eating his breakfast. Anxiety finding a home deep inside, rooted around in the pit of his stomach. He wiped his hands and face, balled up his napkin and hummed it at his tray. He looked around the room.
"Now what the hell am I supposed to do?"