Dealing With Idijits

By: M14Mouse

Summary: Bobby should have left Cas at the hospital.

Disclaimer: Don't own them.

Schmoop bingo card prompt: friend in need

Marie Garcon has been a nurse for about two years now. She have seen a lot of things…the good, the bad, and the ugly. The patient in room 214 was a mystery. He found in the trash…quite literally. The police said he had weird symbol craved into his chest. They said that a cult or gang did it as a warning. At least that is what the police, no clue if the guy told them that or not.

This man couldn't be with some cult. He looked so ordinary….so normal.

The patient in room 214 slept off and on for days. The combination of drugs and blood loss made him sleep. He wasn't awake for long periods of time. But when he was awake, he was very…strange. He kept pulled at his IV and staring strangely at the heart monitor.

She could have sworn that he said the thing made too much noise.

Then came the fact that he wouldn't eat. He would poke his food with his fork and give it a look like the food was alien from out of space. He made a comment more than once that the food tasted like rubber.

She didn't think the hospital food was that bad!

Then came his need for coffee and asking for his clothes. Why would someone want their bloody clothes back? He is constantly asking for the phone even if he wasn't quite sure on how to use the phone next to his bed.

He would ask the strangest questions.

"Why is there a strange creature living in a trash can?"

"I do not need to take the strange blue pills. They make my head feel odd."

"The world is at sake…I do not know why you wish to do this. It is very uncomfortable"

Then came the whole end of the world talk….why did all of the cute ones have to be crazy?

He also has tried to sneak out…but he never got very far. It was kind of funny in the nonprofessional sort of way. He tended to wobble.

Then she heard rumors of a phone call. No clue if it was family or friends that he contracted. But after the phone call, he became quiet and withdrawn. She couldn't understand why until he came in.

She never expected this.

-SPNSPN-

She didn't expect an older gentleman roll up to the desk asking for the strange man in room 214. He was Mr. Bobby Singer and he kind of scared her.

"Idijit in there?"

"Yes, sir."

The man grumbled as he rolled off toward the room.

"Sir, we will bring him to you. You just wait here…"

"Can you get him into the wheelchair without the idijit giving you stupid looks?"

"Uh…no, sir."

"Then move aside."

She nearly had to jump out of the way when the gentleman nearly ran her over with his wheelchair. She could hear him grumbling all the way down the hall. Quickly, she followed him. She knew how difficult the patient was. When she reached the door, she could hear them arguing.

"Looks like that you did a number on yourself, boy."

She heard some grumbling noise.

"No complaining…Up. The boys are waiting for us. They have a lead on Pestilence."

She popped her head into the room to the patient struggle to get up from the bed.

"Don't pull on those you idijit…let the nurses get those," Mr. Singer said.

"But they itch," the patient said.

The patient struggled with the IVs.

"Of course they do."

Finally, she had the nerve to walk in and help him.

"Where are his clothes?" Mr. Singer asked.

"In dresser," she said as she removed the IVs from the patient's arm. Mr. Singer rolled his wheelchair over to the dresser and started pulling out a trench coat.

Why would anyone wear a trench coat in the middle of April?

"Excuse me, Miss. I need to help with my…friend."

"Of course, sir," She said as she left the room.

She closed the door behind her then quickly she pressed her ear against the door. She knew that patient has the right to privately but she was too curious!

"I hope your daddy taught you how to dress yourself."

"Normally, I wouldn't have too."

"Got that. You are putting it on backwards."

"It looks the same to me."

"That is why they put a tag on it."

She heard more grumbling.

"Backward, son."

"Oh."

"The other hole…"

"Damn it, son."

"My body isn't cooperating enough for this function."

She heard some more grumping and possible cursing.

"Why am I not surprise? No…sit down."

"Why?"

"So you won't choke yourself on your damn tie."

She heard some more grumbling and a wheelchair approaching the door. Quickly, she moved down the hallway and back to her station. Soon enough, Mr. Singer rolled out of the room and toward the desk.

"Sir, you do realize that he need to be rolled out in a wheelchair. Hospital policy."

Mr. Singer stared at her like she was crazy.

"Crap."

End.

A/N: A few of you might have notice that this first part looks kind of familiar. It is. Since I am rewriting A Twice Told Tale and this part will no longer in it, I decided to remove it and make it an one shot. Anyway, Read and Review if You wish.