Another quick A/N: Ok I think I found a person to play Kristy, so tell me what to think. Thanks to deMesser for suggesting Amanda Righetti, who I decided was worthy enough to represent Kris ;) I think that's all...I have no idea how to upload pics so...i guess you have to google it...sorry.
Dean's POV:
"Dean," Kris calls from the couch.
I look at Sam pleadingly, but he just shrugs.
"She asked for you man, better suck it up and go see what she wants," he tells me.
Sighing, I take one last fortifying swig of beer and step out to see Kristy with dread. As I'm coming to the couch, she points to something across the room. I pick up the tissue box and hand it to her.
"Jeez Dean, I'm sick, not dead, don't look so grossed out," she tells me, blowing her nose and then cleaning her hands with sanitizer.
I grimace and gingerly sit on the edge of the couch with her. I don't like when Kristena is sick. It gives me heart palpitations. She takes a breath and points at me.
"Suck it up and do something for me," she says.
I nod once, not able to really look at her, but I know she's rolling her eyes. She got sick four days ago. The first day wasn't horrible, she was just a little off. The second and third day, she was horrible. She felt miserable. The fourth day is started to abate, she said she was feeling better. Today is the fifth day and she says she's feeling much better. She was even up and making her own breakfast this morning.
"I need you to grab me some medicine from the cabinet in my bathroom. Get the box with orange and green and then the white one with the red writing and also...grab the thermometer, I went to check my temp."
With that, I go upstairs, running into her room and going immediately to the bathroom. It's strange to be in my sisters room without her here. More than once, she's threatened me with my life if I went through her stuff. I go into her bathroom and try not to look at anything other than the medicine. It's easy enough to find what she asked for, including the thermometer.
I go back downstairs and hand her the medicine. She checks her temperature, which she frowns at before fumbling with the medicine.
"What did it say?" I ask.
She glances up at me, eyes wide and face pale before shaking her head.
"I think it might be broken. I'll go out and buy a new one in a couple hours," she tells me and takes the pills quickly.
"God I hate being sick," she says, getting to her feet and setting her forehead against my shoulder.
"I hate when you are sick so..."
She smiles slightly and slowly makes her way to the kitchen, looking both stiff and tired. She yawns, hugging Sam and just standing there with arms around his waist. He looks at me and shrugs, hugging her back.
"Kris? Are-are you alright?" he asks.
She sighs.
"Yeah...I'm just worried about Cas."
My phone starts ringing just as Bobby rolls in, asking how Kristy is feeling.
"Hello?" I answer.
"Dean," Cas says.
"Cas, are you okay?" I ask, and Kristy whirls around to stare at me.
"No," he answers, "I'm in a hospital. Apparently I was found on a shrimp boat."
"Alright, well just zap on back here then," I tell him.
"I can't. I-I lost my powers. They're gone."
I freeze, staring at Kristy who's expression is both curious and worried. What? she mouths.
"He lost his powers," I tell her quietly as Cas babbles about something, "he's in a hospital."
Her eyes widen and she holds out her hand. I give it to her without protest.
"Cas?" she says.
She silent for several seconds.
"Alright, calm down. I'm coming to get you. Tell them that someone is coming for you, okay?"
Again, more silence.
"I don't know, you're smart. Tell them I'm your wife or sister or something."
She closes my phone and goes out and up to her room, tripping once as she goes but quickly regaining her balance and continuing.
"Kris! You're still sick, you should be resting, getting your strength back up," Sam tells her.
"The...angel I love is stuck in a hospital without his powers. I think that trumps sickness. Besides, I'm already feeling better," she calls back down, her tone unconcerned.
"Kris, think this through," he tells her as she comes in, looking around for something.
"I did. Cas needs help, Sam. He's defenseless and completely clueless about blending, in a hospital. You said yourself that I'm still sick," she tells him, fixing the collar on her jacket and grabbing her keys from the drawer she was pawing through, "I'm no good looking for Pestilence."
"So you're going out to go to Castiel who's just as much a target for demons as we are?" Sam asks outraged.
She frowns at him.
"Don't yell at me," she says calmly, sounding even a little disappointed in him.
He immediately shuts his mouth and looks away. No one can shame us quite like Kris can.
"Now listen, you'd do the same for me or Dean. I'll call you every hour if that makes you feel better, but I'm going."
Her voice is calm and even soothing-which is pretty much her equivalent to slapping him back to sanity. How she does it, I don't know, but it's one of those evil girl powers she's had since we were little.
"Alright," he says finally and hands her his phone, "call every hour."
She smiles over at him and hugs him. I think he even gets a little teary eyed by it.
"Of course I will, little brother. I'll call when I get to the hospital too."
He kisses the top of her head and she smiles up at him then turns and hugs me. I grimace, not liking the sick, but hug her anyway.
"What's with the chick-flick moments today?" I ask.
She gives me a half smile and winks.
"End of the world, brother, gotta have my moments when I can."
And with these cheerful words, she steps away and rushes out the door. Sam looks at me and shakes his head.
"How does she do that?"
Kristy's POV:
I take the SUV that I stole whenever I first came back from hell. My grip on the steering wheel is tighter than normal. Usually, I'm pretty at ease when I'm driving...but I'm on edge with being sick and having the guy I love in the hospital.
My head is pounding with a headache, my nose is runny and sore, my entire body is aching, my throat is raw, and I've had a fever for two days. Just thinking about my high temperature has me flashing back to only about a half hour ago when the thermometer told me my temperature. I grimace. It's just broke, I think. The damn thing is just really old.
By the time I've finally made it to the hosptial Castiel told me he was at, the medicine has kicked in and the sickness is nearly unnoticeable. Of course, it doesn't help that I've been so worried about him.
Before I enter the hospital, I call Castiel back. To my surprise, he picks up.
"Hello?"
"Cas," I say, "who did you tell them I am? What name did you use?"
"I used my first name and your last...and I told them you're my wife."
I can't help but smile.
"Alright. I should be there soon."
I hang up, feeling better now that I've heard his voice. I pull my hair up into a high ponytail, sighing slightly as the short strands fall down again. Before I enter the hospital, I pull out the fake rings I have stashed in my weapons bag and shove them on my left ring finger, then I go in and straight to the front desk.
"Hi," I say getting the woman's attention, "I'm hear to see my husband..."
"Alright, what's your name sweety?" the woman asks, looking at the rings on my left hand.
"Kristena Singer, I'm here to see Castiel Singer...?"
"Oh of course. He's in room 117. Is he..."
"European? Yeah, I met him while I was in the land down under on...business."
"Oh, he doesn't have an Australian accent..."
"He's lived here for a while. It was really a chance encounter that we met."
She smiles.
"Aww, isn't that sweet. Well he's just down that hallway," she says pointing to my right.
My head swivels to look down the corridor and impulsively, I let my mind wonder out to see if I can sense him. My powers are weak, but I can sense his presence here, thankfully.
"Uh, honey, before you go in there, do you mind filling out some information?"
"No, it's alright," I lie and take the clipboard and pen from her.
I quickly take a seat and begin filling in fake information.
Cas's POV:
I've decided that I hate hospitals. The smells are too sharp, like chemicals and blood. It's always ridiculously bright with the harsh overhead lights and loud with nurses, staff, and doctors constantly shuffling through the hallways at all hours. And if they aren't, then this ludicrous heart rate monitor is beeping continuously by my side. Not to mention...it's cold. It never used to bother me before, when I had the suit and coat, but now I realize how absolutely frigid some places can be.
I'm staring at the ceiling, which has a panel made of glass and decorated with sea life. I've never really been in the ocean, but I would like to see it I think. If the world wasn't ending I'd like to see it with Kristena. Actually, right now, I would just settle for seeing Kristena.
Footsteps approach my door and then there's a gentle knock. I turn my head to see her standing there, leaning against the door slightly and her hair pulled back for the first time since I've met her.
"Kristena."
Her lips pull up into a wide, gorgeous smile that lights up her whole face.
"Hi Cas," she replies, almost shyly and comes over to hug me tightly.
I flinch and she immediately releases me, but I pull her back down anyway, enjoying the familiar curve of her body in my arms. When I'm finally satisfied, I let her sit back on the edge of the bed, her hand tenderly set on my cheek.
"You look like hell," she says bluntly, wrinkling her nose teasingly.
"I feel like hell," I reply taking her hand.
She smiles slightly looking at me carefully.
"God, I was so worried about you," she says sniffling a little.
"You don't look so well yourself," I say really seeing her for the first time.
Her eyes are a tired and there's dark circles under them. Her hair, even up as it is, seems a little flat. Her skin is pale and she moves stiffly.
"What happened?" I ask.
"Oh, I got a little sick, no biggie."
"Do you think it was Pestilence?" I ask her and she shrugs.
"Probably was, with my luck," she replies laying her head on my chest.
I sigh, forgetting for the moment that I lost my powers and that I feel like I fell from heaven and hit concrete at the bottom.
"How are you doing?" she asks me suddenly, picking her head up to look me in the eyes.
"I'm worried that I won't get my powers back."
She bites her lip. It's clear from the look on her face that she knows there's more, but she doesn't want to push me. I deliberate with myself for a moment before I continue.
"And I'm afraid."
She looks relieved that I told her relaxes slightly.
"Why?" she asks.
"Because I want my powers back so that I protect you," I say touching her cheek and running a hand through the shorter pieces of hair hanging around her face.
"I'm afraid that I won't be able to help or that you'll need me and I'm too busy trying to work a cellphone."
She smiles slightly gently squeezing my hand.
"Oh Cas...you'll be able to help with or without your powers. And besides, I've been in plenty of tough scrapes without anyone to help-or even my powers. That's how I got this," she says, pulling up the edge of her dove gray tanktop and revealing the scar of her werewolf fight.
I trace a finger along the scar, remembering the memory with fondness. A slight shiver passes through her body and she flushes when she realizes I noticed it.
"Even still," I say, "this isn't like it once was. The stakes have gotten higher."
She lets out a slow breath.
"Yeah no kidding, we're talking about the entire world now. Not just my life and my brother's."
The doctor walks in and tells us that I'm ready to go home. Kristy drives of course, but she seems a little distracted, her thumb keeps tapping a steady beat on the wheel and she's nibbling on her bottom lip obssessively.
"Is something wrong, Kris?"
She glances at me and bites her lip before answering.
"You have to promise not to tell my brothers and you can't freak out."
"When have you ever seen me freak out?" I ask skeptically.
"When I cut my side open," she answers and I frown.
"I did not freak out."
"Maybe not, but you had the equivalent."
I would argue more, but I don't for three reasons. One, she's pretty much right. Two, I want to know what it is that she's so worried about telling me. And three, even I know better than to argue with a woman.
"Alright, I promise I won't...freak out."
"And you can't tell my brothers."
"I won't," I promise, looking at her concerned now.
She bites her lips again, staring at the road before speaking again.
"I think I'm dying."