John Doe
This is an AU fic inspired from an AU verse. Yeah I know it's weird...
The verse is We Three Kings bycosmic_medusa. If you haven't read it yet, well I don't know what you're still doing here! If you have: this ficlet is a total AU about the time when Sam went missing for four weeks.
Title: John Doe
Summary: This fic was inspired by a sentence in We Three Kings chapter 3: Night after night, Cas had sat up until early morning, ensuring his boyfriend made it through his drunken sleep, praying, for once, that the phone wouldn't ring, or a knock wouldn't come at their front door, because he was confident, if it did, that it meant Sam was dead.
Warnings:
character death
Disclaimer: Not mine².
Author's note: It's unbetaed so if anyone wants to beta it please tell me!
There was no knock on the door.
No phone call.
It was a text message that woke Cas in the middle of the night.
We've got a John Doe in the morgue.
Fits your description.
Wanna come and check?
Cas knew that his heart didn't stop. He was a doctor for God's sake!
But something broke inside him. Something he might never be able to repair.
I'll be there in 15.
He carefully got up and went out of the room quietly. He didn't want to scare Dean for what could be a false alarm. And if it wasn't... God if it was Sam then it wouldn't matter anymore. He was afraid nothing might matter for Dean anymore...
Fifteen minutes later Cas parked his car in front of the hospital and went straight to the morgue. He didn't want to meet his coworkers. Didn't want to talk, explain, cry...
He couldn't remember the name of the young boy who opened the door. He didn't listen to his apologies for texting him so late. Didn't listen to anything the boy said before opening the body bag.
And when he did...
Cas was a doctor, he knew his heart didn't stop. But God it hurt!
The long brown hair.
The emaciated cheeks.
The dak rings around the eyes.
Sam.
Sam.
Oh God, Sam!
Cas nodded quietly.
The boy closed the bag.
It was done. It was Sam.
He left the morgue without a word. Steadying himself with a hand on the wall.
He had to walk back to his car, to go home.
There were tears rolling on his cheeks and he had to put a hand on his mouth to prevent a moan.
He had to be strong.
He needed to be strong.
He wasn't.
He leaned on the wall and slipped to the ground.
He remembered Sam hating him when they first met. He remembered this protective little brother he wanted to impress.
He remembered Jess. The museums. The movies. The dinners they had. Sam's smile.
He remembered the fire. The tears. Sam's tears.
He remembered this young man he had learned to love.
He remembered a friend and a brother.
Now he knew he would never forget Sam's tired face in this morgue.
And he knew it was over. Dean. Himself. Nothing would ever be the same.
And it hurt. God it hurt.
The verse is We Three Kings bycosmic_medusa. If you haven't read it yet, well I don't know what you're still doing here! If you have: this ficlet is a total AU about the time when Sam went missing for four weeks.
Title: John Doe
Summary: This fic was inspired by a sentence in We Three Kings chapter 3: Night after night, Cas had sat up until early morning, ensuring his boyfriend made it through his drunken sleep, praying, for once, that the phone wouldn't ring, or a knock wouldn't come at their front door, because he was confident, if it did, that it meant Sam was dead.
Warnings:
character death
Disclaimer: Not mine².
Author's note: It's unbetaed so if anyone wants to beta it please tell me!
There was no knock on the door.
No phone call.
It was a text message that woke Cas in the middle of the night.
We've got a John Doe in the morgue.
Fits your description.
Wanna come and check?
Cas knew that his heart didn't stop. He was a doctor for God's sake!
But something broke inside him. Something he might never be able to repair.
I'll be there in 15.
He carefully got up and went out of the room quietly. He didn't want to scare Dean for what could be a false alarm. And if it wasn't... God if it was Sam then it wouldn't matter anymore. He was afraid nothing might matter for Dean anymore...
Fifteen minutes later Cas parked his car in front of the hospital and went straight to the morgue. He didn't want to meet his coworkers. Didn't want to talk, explain, cry...
He couldn't remember the name of the young boy who opened the door. He didn't listen to his apologies for texting him so late. Didn't listen to anything the boy said before opening the body bag.
And when he did...
Cas was a doctor, he knew his heart didn't stop. But God it hurt!
The long brown hair.
The emaciated cheeks.
The dak rings around the eyes.
Sam.
Sam.
Oh God, Sam!
Cas nodded quietly.
The boy closed the bag.
It was done. It was Sam.
He left the morgue without a word. Steadying himself with a hand on the wall.
He had to walk back to his car, to go home.
There were tears rolling on his cheeks and he had to put a hand on his mouth to prevent a moan.
He had to be strong.
He needed to be strong.
He wasn't.
He leaned on the wall and slipped to the ground.
He remembered Sam hating him when they first met. He remembered this protective little brother he wanted to impress.
He remembered Jess. The museums. The movies. The dinners they had. Sam's smile.
He remembered the fire. The tears. Sam's tears.
He remembered this young man he had learned to love.
He remembered a friend and a brother.
Now he knew he would never forget Sam's tired face in this morgue.
And he knew it was over. Dean. Himself. Nothing would ever be the same.
And it hurt. God it hurt.