Return of the Sam 5/?

[emebalia]

Chapter 5

Castiel didn't waste time with explaining, he reached out for me and the next second I stood at Dean's bed.

"Morning, Luis." He greeted me. "Don't mind Cas, he's just living up to his true feathered nature as a mother hen."

"Dean, you are in pain, you have a fever and your shoulder isn't healing as well as you want me to believe." Castiel berated him in a matter of fact way before he turned back to me. "Would you have a look at him?"


Defeated but not with one last glare at his angel friend Dean dropped back into his pillow. He looked indeed hot and feverish.
"I'll check on your abdomen first." I announced before I lifted the blanket. I took off the dressing to have a look at the neat row of stitches. The wound was a bit red and slightly swollen around the stitches but that was expected. It was a fresh wound after all.

I inwardly sighed in relief, I didn't want to think about what the angel might do if it turned out that my handiwork was causing Dean trouble.

"Okay, looks fine down here." I dropped the blanket.

"I always look fine down there." Came his comeback but without having the energy to even open his eyes it lost its effect.

I rolled my eyes and started peeling off the gauze on his shoulder. Even through the fabric I could feel the heat.

"How is he?" Sam burst into the room and I paused a moment to wonder why he had to walk while I got the special treatment. Maybe Cas really was a worried mother hen.

"His shoulder is infected." I told him while I inspected said wound closer. I probed and prodded and there was clearly a pocket of pus in the deep.

"I cleaned it." Sam tried to defend himself but one look at the puffy red flesh shut him up.

"Not your fault, Sammy." Now Dean opened his eyes to glance at his brother.

"The problem with bullet wounds is that it's not only the bullet getting in your body." I explained while I tried to think of the best way of action. "Usually it goes through your clothes first, taking bits and pieces with it. Not exactly sterile bits and pieces."

"I know that." Sam huffed. "I cleaned the wound."

"Sometimes wounds get infected." Dean reassured him. "So what is it, Doc? Back on the table?"

That was the question I was debating in my head right then. Easiest way would have been to put him under but he came out of surgery only about twelve hours earlier and with no modern equipment at hand I wasn't sure it was worth the risk. Even in a real hospital I would hesitate.

Local anesthesia was an option but this was a tricky area, too much to damage. I'd never longed for a fully equipped modern hospital and a full staff more than in that moment.

"C'mon, just do it." Dean challenged me. "We use to do stuff like this with only the help of Doctor Jack." His words would have been more convincing if he wouldn't try to bite back a cry at the same time.

I took pity on him and stopped probing him. "And you see what you get from that."

In the end Castiel solved the problem for me.

I didn't know what he was about to do but apparently Dean did.

He shied back as far as his pillow allowed him, muttering "no, no" but went out like a light when Castiel touched his forehead with two fingers.

"He'll sleep as long as you need him too." Castiel informed me as if knocking people unconscious with a touch was a normal thing to do. Sam didn't freak out so I decided to take it as thing that just happened.

"You sure?" I had to ask because I didn't want him to wake up while I was digging in his shoulder. There were some nerves and arteries in there I'd rather not nick. Despite the fact that I didn't want to cause Dean more pain than absolutely necessary.

"Yes." Castiel answered.

"He always like this?" I turned to Sam with an amused smile. What had I gotten myself into?

"Most of the time."

Together we got Dean back on the surgery table, I wanted to work under as sterile circumstances as possible because I really didn't want to redo this in a few days.

Like Castiel had assured me, Dean didn't wake up, didn't even stir when we manhandled him over and minutes later I stood once again over him, scalpel in hand.

Sam played nurse again and I saw him tensing when I cut open the stitches he'd put into his brother's shoulder.

The smell just reinforced what I already knew.

"You know." I started talking while I dug my way deeper into the festering wound. "When you have surgery in a hospital, you have to sign these forms."

"Yeah?" Sam hold the basin to catch the pus oozing out of the wound.

"Have you ever read them?" I asked but didn't wait for his answer. "They basically say that if the surgery goes well, the surgeon is awesome, but if it doesn't go well, it's because shit happens."

Sam actually laughed at that.

"So yeah, shit happened." I went back to digging in Dean's shoulder. "But you have the awesome surgeon to fix it."

I cut away necrotic tissues and flushed the wound thoroughly.

"That should do it. I'll leave it open, I want it to heal up from the button and not form another pocket to fester."

We cleaned up and then got Dean back to his bed.

"How is he?" Of course Castiel was in my face again as soon as we had settled Dean.

"He'll be fine." I reassured him and relief washed over his face. Not for the first time I wondered how one ended up with an angel standing vigil at one's bed. I know that people claim to have angels watching over them but until now I'd taken that in a more metaphorical way. And even in my wildest dreams I wouldn't have pictured trench coat guy angel.

I switched Dean's medication to heavier antibiotics and adjusted his painkillers.

"When is he going to wake up?" Sam asked, his gaze altering between Castiel and me.

"He's sleeping naturally now." Castiel deflected the question.

"A while." I answered, with this kind of anesthesia I'd no clue how long he would be out. "He'll wake up in his own time."

Now I really needed that coffee I'd left in the kitchen, so I excused myself and left them alone.

"Don't wander off." Sam just had to call after me from his place at his brother's side.

"Yeah, yeah."

This time I found my way back to the kitchen on the first try and not much later I sat there with a fresh cup of coffee, musing about the weirdness of the situation in general and that demon in the basement in particular.

Did demons eat? Was he starving down there? Was he really the King of Hell?

Sam hadn't come back yet and I didn't want to bother Kevin with questions like this, I didn't want to trigger another outburst. So I sat there alone with those question running circles in my head.

Every living being needed food and water and maybe I just needed an excuse to go back there.

In hindsight that was the stupidest idea I ever had but I grabbed a bottle of water and a sandwich and went to satisfy my curiosity about the King of Hell.

"Didn't expect to see you again, mate." He greeted me when I pushed the door open.

Once again I stood there, taking in the sight in front of me. To be honest, he looked harmless. I'd no idea what a demon looked like, I probably should have asked Sam about that, but for sure I had expected somebody more … impressive to be the King of Hell.

"Sam told me to not come back." Reluctantly I stepped closer and placed the bottle of water and the sandwich on the table. "But I thought you might be hungry."

He just stared at the things in font of him, then his gaze wandered up to meet my eyes. I couldn't really read his expression, something between surprised, amused and calculating. Sam had warned me about the last part and I hurried to step back, out of his reach.

"You probably should have listened to Sam." He said. "You've no idea what you're dealing with here."

"You are a demon." I said with as much confidence as I could master.

"Oh, I'm a little more than just a demon." He said the last word with disgust, almost as if I'd insulted him.

"Sam said you're the King of Hell."

"And still you came back here." He leaned back in his chair, curious eyes on me. "Came to dance with the devil in pale moonlight?" He rolled his eyes and lifted his bound hands. "Well, metaphorically speaking. Haven't seen the moon in a while. Doubt I ever will again."

The only reason he was still alive was because of the information they hoped to get out of him. The how was another thing I didn't really want to think about.

He dragged the plate with the sandwich closer to examine it.

"You still haven't told me why you're here." He made a wide gesture. "With the Winchesters, I mean."

I shifted uncomfortable, not sure what to say.

"I'm a surgeon." I finally admitted, what harm could an information like that do?

"A surgeon." He took the sandwich and leaned forward to take a bite but the band around his neck didn't allow that much movement. "Why do they need a surgeon?"

"Dean." I looked away, I couldn't stand seeing him struggle, almost choking on the iron collar. "Appendicitis."

He paused in his struggle, mouth still open for the bite, and looked up at me.

"Come again?" The sandwich plopped back on the plate, his hands shaking. With laughter, I realized.

"What's so funny?"

"Taken down by something so ordinary." He laughed as if that was the funniest joke ever.

Finally calming down he tried the sandwich again.

"Would you mind loosening this for a moment?" He asked with a hand as close to the collar as he could raise it. When I hesitated, because that was a really bad idea, he slumped down in his bindings.

"C'mon, have a heart. Just let me breathe for a moment." He begged. "I'll eat and drink and then you can put it back on. Nobody will know."

He raised his hands so that I had once again a clear view on the handcuffs.

"I still have these, I'm not going anywhere."

I glanced behind me but we were alone, Sam was probably still at Dean's side, Kevin was busy with whatever he was doing and what an angel did in his spare time I had no clue.

He was right, nobody would know. Which also meant if something went wrong nobody would know about that either.

"Never mind." He pushed the plate away. "Thanks for the sandwich anyway. You should go now."

He dismissed me and I knew the wise thing to do would have been to take the stupid sandwich and the water and to leave him the hell alone. Instead I sighed and stepped around him to have a closer look at the collar.

"Don't try anything stupid." I warned him and had no idea how I'd carry through with that threat.

"Thank you." He said and he sounded honest. "You've no idea what this means to me."

Before I could say anything to that, the air was suddenly filled with black-reddish smoke.

Chapter 6
Masterpost