Castiel looked behind himself at the newly locked glass doors and sighed. He hadn't meant to stay in the library until it closed at one in the morning. He was only supposed to stay until eight, maybe nine, before going home and having a nice dinner and going to bed early. Possibly even watching an episode of Doctor Who, depending on what time he ended up leaving. Add in all those books and a nice comfy armchair, however, and suddenly an angry college student was yelling at him to, "Get the hell out of here, I want to go home!" Castiel harrumphed. He could have been nicer about it, at least. They were the same age after all, and that was supposed to mean something, wasn't it?
Castiel shivered and pulled his trenchcoat a bit tighter around himself before turning away from the doors. He looked down the street with trepidation, noticing that the street lamps seemed to be placed a lot further apart than they had when he had walked here that morning. He bit his lip and held it between his teeth as he tried to decide what he should do.
Maybe Anna? His older sister was always very dependable and would most likely come to get him if he called her. Yes, Anna seemed like the best option. Castiel got out his phone and had his finger hovering over her name before he remembered what happened last time he had woken her up early. He had found out that day why people always said redheads had wicked tempers. He immediately shoved his phone back into his pocket. He was definitely not invoking that again. Anna was out.
He could try to call his older brother Gabriel, but he was most likely out partying (again) and wouldn't hear his phone ringing. Castiel wasn't sure he wanted Gabe to answer anyway, shuddering as he remembered his last ride in that death-trap his brother called a car. No, Gabriel was definitely out.
Castiel blew out a sigh and chewed his lip, weighing his options. Walking was looking like the best route, unfortunately. After a few moments of hesitation, he reached into his trenchcoat pocket and pulled out his phone again. Taking a deep breath, he dialed his area code followed by a random telephone number that he hoped belonged to someone sympathetic. He tapped the "call" button and held it up to his ear. Please be someone nice, please be someone nice, he thought as he heard the tinny ringing.
"Hey, Sammy, what's up?" A deep voice drawled, smooth and rich, with just a hint of a southern accent. Castiel was captivated. "Hello?" Oh right, talking, he was supposed to be talking.
"Oh, um," Castiel cleared his throat. "Hello."
There were a few moments of silence. Castiel heard the muffled sounds of a TV in the background before the man spoke again. "You're not Sam."
"Uh, no, no I'm not," Castiel replied.
"Do I know you?" Asked the stranger with the beautiful voice. No, Castiel scolded himself, Stop that. He's just a stranger.
Castiel took a breath to brace himself. "Um, no, probably not. If you want to hang up now it's totally fine but, uh, the thing is, it's one in the morning and I have to walk home from the library but it's like, really dark and, um, I kind of just wanted someone to talk to on my way?" There was a beat of silence. "If that's...okay?" He trailed off, unsure of how the guy would react to his babbling.
After a lengthy pause, Castiel heard a breathy laugh on the other end of the line. "Sure, why not? I don't have anything better to do anyway." Castiel let out a sigh of relief before the man went on. "Well, if I'm going to be talking to you until you reach home, for however long that is, am I allowed to ask you for your name?"
Castiel blinked. He hadn't really thought past the dialing, he kind of thought the person on the other line would've hung up by now. Still, what could it hurt to tell a stranger his name? He certainly sounded nice enough.
Another chuckle. "Castiel, huh? Well, Castiel, my name is Dean. Nice to meet you. Kind of."
Castiel smiled slightly. "Hello, Dean. It's nice to kind of meet you, too."
"Do you mind if I call you Cas?" The stranger, no, Dean, asked, "It is one in the morning after all, and I'll probably end up mangling Castiel at some point."
Well that was new, Castiel thought. The only nickname he had ever had was Cassie, and that was only when Gabriel felt like being a dick. Cas, though, Cas sounded nice. Cas sounded like a nickname someone would give to a friend. His smile grew a little more. "Yes, Dean, Cas is fine, thank you for asking." He heard the creak of someone shifting in a leather couch or chair of some kind and the volume of the TV background going down a bit.
"No prob, Cas," Dean replied cheerfully. "So, how long do I have before you hang up on me?"
Cas tilted his head to the side, even though he knew Dean couldn't see him. Just a habit, he supposed. "Why would I hang up on you?"
"When you get home?" Dean asked questioningly.
Cas flushed. "Oh, right." He heard another slight chuckle. He glanced around, seeing the library right behind him and making absolutely sure there was no one else on the street before he began walking towards his apartment. "I don't know how long it'll take me, to be honest. I guess I'll just tell you when I'm close?"
"Fair enough," Dean replied easily. "Where did you say you were coming from, again? The library?"
"Yes." Castiel answered, glancing around as he walked slightly faster than normal.
"What were you doing at the library at one in the morning? I didn't even know libraries stayed open that late." Dean asked, sounding amused. "Do you have a huge essay due tomorrow or something?"
Castiel shook his head before, again, remembering that Dean couldn't see him and answering aloud. "Ah, no, I just really love to read. I turned in all of my final essays earlier this week."
"You sound like my little brother, Sam." Dean's velvety voice was full of pride and affection. "He'll read anything he can get his hands on. He's up at Stanford, earned himself a full ride. He's studying law, and he's about two years in. He's gonna be the best damn lawyer anyone has ever seen."
"I'm in my second year of college as well." Castiel mumbled distractedly, peeking around a corner before turning it and continuing his walk home. "Wait, you said Sam? Isn't that who you thought I was at first?" Castiel asked. He heard a breath from Dean's side.
"Yeah, sorry about that, man. He's the only person that ever calls me anymore, especially this late at night."
"Don't apologize, he sounds like someone I would look up to. I don't mind being mistaken for someone like that." The second half of Dean's statement registered and Castiel winced, "I'm sorry about the time thing, I didn't really think about how late it was when I called, I was just hoping to get someone sympathetic."
"Oh, no, it's fine. I wasn't asleep or anything, don't worry." He chuckled again, "But what is this about you being afraid of the dark?"
Cas heard a slight change in tone as Dean spoke, and he hoped it meant that Dean was teasing him. It still didn't stop Cas from ducking his head and blushing as he walked. "Yeah, I know, I'm too old for that, and it's stupid to be afraid of the dark." he said. His voice was ashamed, self-berating. He remembered Gabriel's laughter when he had found out.
"No, no, hey," Dean said gently, all trace of teasing gone. "It's fine to be scared. Not to freak you out, but it's not too strange for bad things happen in the dark. It's better to be afraid and cautious than brash and hurt, alright?"
Castiel blushed at the soft tone and suddenly felt a little better about his fear. He kept walking, glancing nervously around the street before turning another corner. He replied softly. "Thanks."
"No need to thank me, Cas." Dean said. "I'm just hoping nothing like that happens to you. We haven't been talking long, but you seem like a great guy. Plus, your voice is amazing. What do you do, gargle gravel?"
Castiel blushed (again) at the compliment and chuckled. "Thank you, and no, it's just my normal voice. You have a very nice voice, too, Dean." He added, feeling momentarily bold.
He heard a scratch that sounded like Dean was rubbing his hand across his stubble. "Thanks, Cas." There were a few beats of silence, broken only by their breathing. "What library are you coming from, by the way? We might live in the same area." Dean asked.
"Just the Lawrence Public Library," Cas answered, secretly hoping that Dean lived close. He had typed in the area code, after all, so the chances were good.
"Awesome," Dean said, "Then we do live close, I'm in Lawrence, too. Maybe we should meet up sometime; I'd love to see what the mystery guy from my phone looks like in real life."
Castiel cheered internally, but managed to keep his voice calm. "Yes, that sounds very nice. Would you be alright with lunch sometime? Maybe Saturday?"
"Yeah, man, lunch on Saturday sounds great. We could meet up at my favorite restaurant, Harvelle's Road House. You been?" Dean sounded excited.
"No, but I think I know where it is?" Castiel hesitantly replied. "I've heard it's fantastic, though. I'll ask you the address when I get home so I can write it down, just to make sure."
"Speaking of, how far away do you live, Cas? You've been 'walking' for a while." Dean's voice turned teasing again. "Don't tell me you're already home and just didn't want to hang up."
Castiel laughed. "No, I'm still actually walking." He crossed the street, still looking both ways even though he knew there were no cars. This route seemed a lot shorter on the bus ride here, he thought. Maybe I should have called Anna to come and get me. "Kevin isn't going to be pleased with me." He said aloud.
"Kevin? Boyfriend or roommate?" Dean asked.
Castiel laughed again. "Neither. I don't have a boyfriend or roommate. Kevin is my cat."
"You have a cat named Kevin?" Dean said skeptically. "Is there a story behind that?"
Castiel blushed a little, realizing that it did sound a little silly. "Yes." He coughed awkwardly before continuing. "The idea was that if anyone tried to make me go out and party or anything I could get out of it by saying something like 'I can't go, sorry, I already have plans with Kevin.' No one questions plans with another person."
There was an incredulous pause before Dean burst out laughing. "You named your cat after a person to get out of partying?"
Castiel ducked his head again. "...yes."
"How often do you use that excuse?" Dean asked, still chuckling.
More often than I'd care to admit. Cas thought. "Enough for my older brother Gabriel to start making jokes about when he'll meet the new member of the family."
"You haven't told your brother? Does he not come visit you?" Dean's chuckles slowly turned into concern.
"Oh, he does. Quite often and unexpectedly." Castiel grumbled.
"So he knows you have a cat named Kevin?"
"I may or may not have told him that it's named Snowball." He admitted.
Dean began laughing loudly again, and Castiel ducked his head with a small smile.
"Oh, man, Cas, thats great." Dean managed as his laughter faded into guffaws. "I haven't laughed that hard in weeks." He stopped to regain his breath. "You're a weird, dorky, little guy." He said affectionately.
"Thank you?" Castiel wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult.
Dean chuckled again. "That's a good thing, don't worry." He changed the subject. "So you're not a party-crazy college student?"
Castiel snorted and shook his head. "No, definitely not. I'd rather listen to music, read, paint, or ... do pretty much anything else."
"I'll bet it's because you're a lightweight." Dean said with a knowing voice.
"No, actually, I'm the opposite." Castiel said, an edge of smugness in his tone. "I have to imbibe quite a lot before I start to feel something. I just don't like the loudness and craziness of parties. I prefer calmer environments."
"Like libraries at one in the morning."
Castiel chuckled. "Like libraries at one in the morning." He agreed.
Dean's voice sounded fond. "Don't ever change, Cas." A pause, then, "I understand. I mean, I'm not the quietest guy, but I like staying home listening to music and reading, too." Dean said. "I'll admit I was really into partying in high school, but I guess I've calmed down since then."
"How old are you?" Castiel wondered before hastily adding, "If you don't mind telling me, I know a lot of people are sensitive about that and I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything-"
His babbling was interrupted by Dean chucking softly again. "Cas, it's fine, I don't care. I'm 24. Four years older than Sam, and since you're in the same year, four years older than you?" Dean said questioningly.
"Not quite," Castiel said. "I took a year off before I started college. I'm 21 years old."
"Old enough to drink." Dean said. "Well, old enough to legally drink."
"Not according to Gabriel. He wanted me to try it when I turned 19." Castiel shook his head fondly. "He's the partier of the family. Anna and I are always trying to reign him in."
"Is Anna your sister?" Dean asked. "I remember you saying that Gabriel was your older brother."
Castiel nodded as he kept walking. This is really looking like walking wasn't the best idea. "Yes, Anna is my older sister by four years. Gabriel is two years behind her, then me. As crazy as he is, he is a good brother, I have to admit. What about your siblings, is Sam the only one?"
Dean hummed in response. "Yeah, it's just Sammy and me."
"I bet you're a great older brother." Castiel said fondly.
"I try," Dean replied, but his voice sounded oddly heavy for a moment. Castiel was about to ask him why before Dean changed the subject. "Cas, are you really still walking? If you're home and just waiting to hang up, just say so. We can talk in the morning."
Castiel sighed and stopped at a corner. "No, unfortunately, I'm still walking. Maybe I should call Anna to come get me."
"Hey, if you still have a long way to go, I could give you a ride." Dean offered, sounding slightly worried. "It doesn't seem safe for you to be walking this far this late at night." His voiced changed to teasing again, "I'd love for the strange man with the nice voice to meet my Baby."
Castiel tilted his head again. Baby? he wondered. Is Dean a father?
Dean breathed out sharply, kind of a laugh but not quite. "Oh jeez, I just realized how that sounded. Baby is what I call my car. She's a beautiful '67 Chevy Impala. Also, I swear I am not a serial killer, I am not abducting you, I just want to give you a ride home."
Cas chuckled into the phone. "Dean, I didn't think you were a serial killer, but thank you for clearing up the Baby thing, I was wondering." He bit his lip and glanced at his surroundings, noticing just how far he was from his apartment. "I may have to take you up on that offer, though, if it's okay. I am a lot further away than I thought I was."
"Yeah, it's not a problem, Cas." Dean assured him. "I may not know you that well, but I still don't want you hurt." He paused before continuing, "And I know that this'll sound sappy and way too 'chick-flick' for me, but I really like talking to you. I really want you to be able to go on that lunch date with me."
Castiel blushed (again, damn it, what is it about this guy and making me blush) and replied softly, "I really like talking to you, too. I'm looking forward to that date."
"Good." Dean said, just as soft. He heard the creak of leather again, presumably as Dean stood up. "Alright, Cas, where am I picking you up?"
Castiel looked up at the street sign. "I'm on the corner of Main and-" he stopped suddenly. There was a noise behind him; he saw a shadow approaching out of the corners of his eyes. All of his fear that had abated at Dean's comforting voice suddenly rushed back full force.
"Hello? Main and what? Cas?" He heard coming out of the tinny speakers as he slowly lowered his phone. He turned hesitantly, facing the stranger just as he stopped.
The man was short, with ripped jeans and a dark hoodie. He had a black hat pulled low over his eyes, and his hands were deep in his pockets. The street lamp was behind him, so Castiel couldn't make out his face, but he could see clearly enough that the man had pulled out a gun. Castiel's phone slipped out of his hand and clattered on to the sidewalk.
"Give me your wallet!" The man demanded.
Castiel raised his hands to his shoulders, shaking with fear. "Hey, man, just calm down and put the gun away, okay? I'll give you my wallet, just please put the gun down."
"I said give me your wallet!" The man yelled, keeping the gun pointed at him.
Cas flinched. "Okay, okay, it's in my pocket, I have to get it. Please don't shoot me, I don't have any weapons, I'm just going to get out my wallet." He said before slowly reaching into his trenchcoat pocket with his right hand, keeping his left exactly where it was. He drew it out gradually, trying not to spook the guy with the gun pointed at his face.
"Don't do anything stupid!" The man shouted, "Just toss it on to the ground in front of me!"
Castiel gently tossed it in front of him, closing his eyes and trying to pretend he was anywhere else. Maybe on that date with Dean. Maybe he wouldn't make it to that now. The man with the gun seemed unstable; who knew how this could end. He did feel safer with his eyes closed, though, like maybe the man would just leave him alone and go quietly. Probably not, but he could hope.
Suddenly, the man punched him in the stomach. So much for hoping. The man landed another punch, Castiel's eyes remaining tightly closed. He doubled over with an "oomph!" just in time for the man to start hitting his sides, his back, his face; apparently anything he could reach. Castiel fell over and curled into a ball, the man's strong punches turning into vicious kicks. At least he didn't use the gun. Cas thought hazily through the pain.
After what felt like years, but was probably only a few minutes, the assault stopped. He heard footsteps quickly growing further away, and breathed a painful sigh of relief before wincing and whimpering.
"Cas! Castiel!" He heard his name (and a lot of quite colorful cursing) as if from a million miles away. He looked around sluggishly, wincing again as each movement pulled at his injuries. Oh look, there's my phone. It's right above my head. Dean must have heard the whole thing. he realized, nearly dreamily.
"Castiel I swear on everything that is good and holy, if you don't answer me right now I will drive up and down every Main Street in Kansas looking for you." Dean threatened. Was it really a threat if it sounded worried? Castiel wondered detachedly before realizing he should probably answer him. Reaching up slowly and painfully, Castiel dragged his phone to himself and curled back into a ball, with the phone between his knees and face.
"Hello, Dean." He said hoarsely.
"Cas," Dean breathed out, sounded relieved for a moment before switching immediately to urgency. "Where are you, man? I need to know, okay? I'll be there soon, I'm at the library, but I need to know which direction to go."
Castiel craned his neck up at the street sign, but his eyes couldn't focus enough to read the letters. That's probably not good. He slowly turned his head to look around and see if there were any landmarks.
"There's a pizza place across the street," he told Dean. "It's closed and the lights are off, but I think it says Big Rico's Pizza."
He heard the revving of an engine as Dean accelerated, hopefully towards him. "Alright, okay, good, I know where that is. I should be there soon, Cas, don't worry."
"I'm not worried," Castiel whispered, closing his eyes. "I trust you more than my brother and we've only been talking for one night. You have such a beautiful voice, you're so easy to talk to, and you're so nice." He realized something. "Nooooooo..." Castiel murmured softly. "You'll be seeing me for the first time with bruises and blood everywhere. I wanted to dress up and look nice for when you first saw me on our date." Was he bleeding? He had to be bleeding, right? His thoughts were disjointed and unimportant things were suddenly vital. That was normal with blood loss, wasn't it? Or maybe it was just the pain... His thoughts were floating away again.
He heard Dean chuckle, but it was tight and strained. "That doesn't matter right now, Cas. We'll take a rain check on that date if you want, but me seeing you right now is not up for debate."
Castiel sighed and licked his split lip. "Okay," he mumbled, fading in and out of consciousness.
"I'm one street away, you should see me soon, just hold on." Dean's voice was growing increasingly concerned. "Cas, try to stay awake, buddy. We don't know if you have a concussion, sleeping could be bad."
Castiel whimpered again. "'M tired." He heard the rumble of an approaching engine and saw headlights through this closed eyelids.
"There you are," Dean muttered quietly to himself. Castiel heard the slamming of a car door and heavy footsteps approaching him.
"Castiel?" His voice was even better face to face. The phone really didn't do him justice. Castiel felt someone gently pull him to a sitting position but kept his eyes closed.
"Hello, Dean." He painfully replied before letting his head drop forward onto his chest. He felt a hand catch his chin and lift it up. It moved his cheek, a calloused thumb softly brushing his cheekbone. The comforting touch felt nice amid the pain. Castiel hummed and tilted his head into it. "'M tired." He mumbled again.
"You can't sleep yet, Cas, we need to get you to the hospital to make sure you're okay first. There's no blood except for the cuts on your face, which is good, but there may be internal bleeding or a concussion." Dean's voice faded in and out. "I need you to open your eyes for me, okay?"
"Mkay." Castiel sighed and opened his eyes, looking right into Dean's. The man was kneeling on the sidewalk in front of him. The thought He has beautiful eyes floated lazily through his head. The hazel touched green eyes were looking right at him, and he stared back steadily. He's gorgeous joined his other thoughts, twisting and circling in his head. "You're pretty." He whispered.
Dean chuckled, but it was still strained. "Thanks, I think." His thumb kept softly moving and Castiel closed his eyes again. "Cas, you have to keep those amazing eyes open for me, we're going to have to keep you awake on the way to the hospital."
Castiel groaned but re-opened his eyes. "Thanks." He said.
"What for?" Dean sounded confused.
"You said my eyes were amazing." Castiel elaborated.
"Oh, well," from the slight reddening of his cheeks, he guessed that Dean hadn't meant to say that. "They are." Dean's voice changed to serious again. "Now we need to get you to the hospital. Can you walk?"
"I don't know." Castiel thought for a second. "Maybe?"
Dean looked at him for a moment before coming to a decision. "I'm going to carry you to my car, okay?"
Castiel blinked owlishly. "Okay."
Dean nodded sharply, put one arm under Castiel's knees and the other behind his shoulders. "You may have to put your arms around my neck." He said before standing and lifting Castiel gently.
Castiel put his arms around Dean's neck and turned his face into the other man's shoulder. This is nice, he thought. Except for the pain. Dean smelled clean, with an underlying scent of engine grease, and the smell of leather from his jacket. He felt strong through his t-shirt.
"I'm going to have to put your legs down to open the door." Dean said softly. "Can you stand?"
"Yes." Castiel was determined to try, even if it meant he was going to fall over. He had regained some of his senses and didn't want to look so weak in front of Dean.
Dean gently placed his feet on the sidewalk, keeping his arm firmly around Cas' shoulder as he opened the passenger door of his car. It was a big black and chrome thing, and Castiel found that he liked it. He started to tell Dean, but stayed quiet as he was ushered into the car. Dean quickly walked around to the driver's side and got in, starting the car before glancing worriedly at him.
"Are you okay with this?" He sounded like he wanted to make sure. "You are in a stranger's car, are you sure you don't want to go and wait for your sister?"
Castiel tilted his head at him and held out his hand. "Hello, I'm Castiel Novak, a 21 year old college student studying theological texts and English literature. And you are?"
Dean looked confused but slowly shook his hand. "Dean Winchester, I'm a 24 mechanic at Singer Salvage Yard?" He said it as if it were a question.
Castiel smiled, wincing as it pulled his split lip. "We are now no longer strangers."
Dean looked at him like he had hit his head. Which, of course, he had, but that wasn't the point.
"Are you going to take me anywhere other than the hospital?" Castiel asked.
Dean shook his head.
"Then there's no problem." Cas decided, leaning his head against the window and effectively ending the conversation.
Dean threw the car into gear and started driving to the hospital, shaking his head and muttering something Cas couldn't quite catch but sounded something like, "Too damn trusting pretty boy college student."
The drive was quiet, even with music playing softly in the background; Dean was tense and worried and Cas was just struggling to stay awake.
They finally reached the hospital and Cas managed to walk in on his own, albeit he was leaning heavily on Dean. He sat down heavily in the waiting room and Dean brought him paperwork from the admittance desk. He sat next to Cas as he filled it out and took it back up to the desk for him before coming back to sit with him until a doctor called him back. The waiting room was nearly empty, which he supposed wasn't strange for, he glanced up at the clock on the wall, nearly 2 o'clock in the morning. A man holding a kitchen towel tightly on his hand was the room's only other occupant, except for the woman behind the desk.
Castiel turned to Dean. "I'm sorry."
Dean looked confused. "What for? You didn't mug yourself."
Castiel ducked his head, wincing as the habit reminded him of his injuries. "No, but you had to come out to get me, drive me here, and now you're waiting with me. Thanks for that, by the way, hospitals freak me out a little." He turned to Dean, looking earnestly into his eyes, "Thank you so much. For everything."
Dean blinked at him. "It's no problem, I wasn't just going to leave you possibly bleeding out on the street." His face turned stormy. "Although if I ever find the son of a bitch that did it..." He stopped himself. He closed his eyes, breathed out slowly, and looked directly back into Castiel's eyes. "You're welcome, Castiel."
They stared a each other until a nurse came out and called, "Castiel Novak, the doctor will see you now." They stood, looking in different directions and with a blush on both of their faces (but certainly more noticeable on Castiel's). They walked into the examination room, Cas still leaning heavily on Dean. Dean lifted Cas onto the examination table, Castiel blushing and mumbling his thanks, just as the doctor bustled in. Dean quickly moved aside at sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair next to the door.
"Hello Castiel, I'm Doctor Missouri Moseley." The shorter African-American woman said. She sat in the chair next to the table, put on hospital gloves, and glanced up at him. "You said on your paperwork you were mugged?" She waiting for his assent before she continued. "Well, let me look at you."
Castiel tilted her head at her, confused.
She rolled her eyes and gestured towards his trenchcoat. "How am I supposed to see anything with that circus tent in the way?"
He nodded understanding and slowly removed his coat, hissing at the pain as he drew it off his arms. Dean jumped up and gently helped him get it off, taking it back to his chair with him when they succeeded.
Dr. Moseley poked and prodded around Castiel's body and face, checking for a concussion, broken bones, temperature, high blood pressure, and other things. Castiel didn't really know what she was doing.
After a few minutes, Dean started getting antsy, bouncing his knee up and down before bursting out with, "Is he okay?"
The doctor turned to him, face slightly annoyed. She snapped off her gloves and tossed them in the disposal receptacle before answering. "Your boyfriend has a slight concussion, a couple of bruised ribs, some small cuts, and he's gonna have a helluva lot of bruises. I'm going to send him up to a room, if you'll wait a minute."
Dean sighed and finally relaxed, entirely ignoring the 'boyfriend' remark. Castiel, on the other hand, blushed again at her bluntness. "Oh, um," he stammered, "we aren't really dating."
Missouri rolled her eyes. "Sure, and I'm not a doctor. I saw you two in the waiting room, sweetie. The nurses were squealing over how cute you two were together."
Castiel's blush deepened until his face felt like it was on fire. Dean's cheeks were tinged pink as well, but he just chuckled.
She kept going, ignoring them. "Now, Castiel, I am going to send you up to," she glanced at some papers, "room 242. Your doctor there should check in with you after you get settled to clean up your cuts and give you some pain medicine."
They sat there and waited for the rest before she said, "What are you waiting for?" She made a shooing motion, "Go!"
Dean stood up and helped Castiel to the door, being as gentle as possible. Right before they were out of earshot, she called, "Oh, and Castiel!" He turned to her, "He thinks you look cute when you blush." She winked and turned away to her paperwork.
Dean spluttered a bit. "I didn't say that!"
"Well you were thinking it!" She replied loudly, not bothering to look up from her papers.
Castiel blushed again, ducking his head in embarrassment. They kept walking to room 242, getting on an elevator to reach the correct floor.
Once they were on the elevator, Dean spoke lowly, close to Castiel's ear. "She's right though. You are cute when you blush. Even through all the cuts and bruises."
Castiel blushes so hard his ears turn red.