[otc] mouths and babes
People are very similar to insects, swarming and working around the great fountain in the middle of the hospital clinic. Nurses hurried to exam rooms, doctors consulted their clipboards and the patients waited impatiently. They surrounded each other without conversing or taking notice of any of the others; uncaring in a place of healing and nurturing.
"Hey guy. Are you sick?" the boy sat himself down on the bench and scowled. Castiel slowly turned his head to regard him and blinked. The boy blinked back. His name was Charlie and he was 10 years, 3 months and 19 days old.
"No," Castiel admitted. "Are you?"
"I have asthma. Need an inhaler and gotta get a diagnosis to get a new one," Charlie said and shrugged at Castiel's frown. "So why are you here if you don't have to be?"
"I enjoy watching people," he explained. Castiel noticed Charlie's mother with her nose in OK magazine. "You don't have asthma."
Charlie looked up, surprised for only a second before smiling and rolling his eyes in his attempt to shrug off being found out. The two of them stared at each other as the long hand on the clock above his mother made it's journey around the circle. Enough time passed that she moved on to People magazine and another patient rotated into examination room 4B.
Here, in a hospital, an exchange occurred between a boy who wasn't really sick and a man that wasn't really a man, and neither party was able to translate the new information into a context they could understand. The small crowd teamed on around them. The long hand kept rotating.
"We both might be berated if you sit next to me much longer," Castiel finally said. "Apparently I represent an ominous image to children. The trench coat."
"Stranger danger isn't real. If you were a pedophile serial killer you'd be my neighbor Nelson who drives around in his van dressed like a normal person and hiding behind trees at my baseball practice," Charlie rattled off. Then he countered: "You're different."
"I am. Why are you faking a condition when you don't really need the medicine?" The angel asked.
Charlie began explaining while he tore out a page from a newspaper and sat on the floor to crease the folds he was making. "It's not a big deal. You ever have a best friend? Yeah, probably not. My best friend has asthma and he needs an inhaler but he doesn't have insurance so I have to fake it to get him one."
"That's wrong."
"Yeah. My friend's in trouble. You don't just let your friend get hurt when you can do something unless you're a little bitch." Charlie shot his newspaper-airplane up over Castiel's head and watched it float around the fountain and turn back toward the water. The angel's hand sprung up and turned, the plane mimicking the motion and sweeping back away from the water.
"No one wants that," Castiel said. "Thank you, Charlie."
Prompt: Justify your actions.
"Hey guy. Are you sick?" the boy sat himself down on the bench and scowled. Castiel slowly turned his head to regard him and blinked. The boy blinked back. His name was Charlie and he was 10 years, 3 months and 19 days old.
"No," Castiel admitted. "Are you?"
"I have asthma. Need an inhaler and gotta get a diagnosis to get a new one," Charlie said and shrugged at Castiel's frown. "So why are you here if you don't have to be?"
"I enjoy watching people," he explained. Castiel noticed Charlie's mother with her nose in OK magazine. "You don't have asthma."
Charlie looked up, surprised for only a second before smiling and rolling his eyes in his attempt to shrug off being found out. The two of them stared at each other as the long hand on the clock above his mother made it's journey around the circle. Enough time passed that she moved on to People magazine and another patient rotated into examination room 4B.
Here, in a hospital, an exchange occurred between a boy who wasn't really sick and a man that wasn't really a man, and neither party was able to translate the new information into a context they could understand. The small crowd teamed on around them. The long hand kept rotating.
"We both might be berated if you sit next to me much longer," Castiel finally said. "Apparently I represent an ominous image to children. The trench coat."
"Stranger danger isn't real. If you were a pedophile serial killer you'd be my neighbor Nelson who drives around in his van dressed like a normal person and hiding behind trees at my baseball practice," Charlie rattled off. Then he countered: "You're different."
"I am. Why are you faking a condition when you don't really need the medicine?" The angel asked.
Charlie began explaining while he tore out a page from a newspaper and sat on the floor to crease the folds he was making. "It's not a big deal. You ever have a best friend? Yeah, probably not. My best friend has asthma and he needs an inhaler but he doesn't have insurance so I have to fake it to get him one."
"That's wrong."
"Yeah. My friend's in trouble. You don't just let your friend get hurt when you can do something unless you're a little bitch." Charlie shot his newspaper-airplane up over Castiel's head and watched it float around the fountain and turn back toward the water. The angel's hand sprung up and turned, the plane mimicking the motion and sweeping back away from the water.
"No one wants that," Castiel said. "Thank you, Charlie."
Prompt: Justify your actions.