justprompts Father
[Cross-posted to 2outof3_aintbad, birthday!fic for iluvroadrunner6 and any OOC-ness is my fault. Blake (likes_zeppelin) and "John Bonham"/Dean (hasperkynipples) used without permission but with love.]
It was just another day of volunteer work at St. Vincent's Hospital. Isabella adjusted her powder pink uniform polo and grabbed the chart of the patient she was supposed to check in on before knocking twice on the door to the room in the ICU.
"Come in."
Ponytail swishing as she stepped in and closed the door behind her, she looked up from her clipboard and smiled at the two men in the room. "Good morning, Mister..." Looking back at the chart, as if to double-check what it said, she paused. "Uhh, John Bonham. Isn't that the drummer from Led Zeppelin?"
The younger man, seated in the chair by the patient's bed, grinned a little and resisted the urge to chuckle. "He gets that a lot, darlin'."
"I-- Uhh--" One look at the man with the Southern drawl and she got knocked off-guard. Oh my God. Not blushin'. Not blushin'. C'mon, Izzi, focus. That just made him grin wider and it was time for Isabella to shift her focus back to her patient. "Mister Bonham--"
"Mister Bonham's my dad. You can call me John, sweetheart." The man - easily in his mid-to-late forties - replied with a suggestive grin before looking at his friend. "What?"
"Don't pay any attention to him, he hits on anythin' with a pretty face." The Southern man replied, shooting an exasperated look at John.
This only made her blush more. "John, my name is Isabella and I'm one of the volunteers here at St. Vincent's. I basically just come visit you, deliver flowers or cards, make sure you get whatever y'need." Crossing over to his bedside, she placed a gentle hand atop his and smiled down at him. "Can I get you anythin'?"
John looked up at her and when he met her strikingly green eyes, his heart stopped for a moment before beating rapidly and he swallowed hard. The younger man knit his brow and slowly rose from his seat with a confused expression on his face.
"John? John are you alright? Your pulse just spiked." Isabella squeezed his hand gently to get him to respond, but he kept staring at her and it was making her really nervous.
"Blake, sit down. I'm fine." Dean said gruffly, before looking down at their hands. "Sweetheart, what's your name?"
At this, Isabella blinked. "Uhh, it's Isabella. I just told you that."
"Not what I meant."
"I--"
Blake looked between the two and he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. There were more weird looks between the two before John sighed heavily, closed his eyes, and repeated himself. "What's your name?"
"I-Isabella Winchester. A-Actually it's Isabella Morasca-Winchester but that gets tiring to say in conversation so I just--"
"Leave."
Pulling her hand back, confused and a little hurt, Isabella blinked. "I-I-- Did I say somethin' to offend you?"
Turning his head to look away, Dean fought back a few tears and said it again. "Leave. Now."
"I- I'm sorry if I said somethin' to--"
"Nah, darlin', you didn't do anythin' wrong." Blake cooed reassuringly as he placed a hand on her shoulder to guide her gently to the door. "He's been through a lot and he's not exactly a gentleman when he's tired."
Taking one last look back at her patient, Isabella studied his face and leaned against the door as Blake closed it behind her. He looks familiar. But I don't know anyone by that name...
"So, Dean..." Blake said casually as he took a seat by the bed once more, "Wanna tell me about what the hell just happened there?"
It was just another day of volunteer work at St. Vincent's Hospital. Isabella adjusted her powder pink uniform polo and grabbed the chart of the patient she was supposed to check in on before knocking twice on the door to the room in the ICU.
"Come in."
Ponytail swishing as she stepped in and closed the door behind her, she looked up from her clipboard and smiled at the two men in the room. "Good morning, Mister..." Looking back at the chart, as if to double-check what it said, she paused. "Uhh, John Bonham. Isn't that the drummer from Led Zeppelin?"
The younger man, seated in the chair by the patient's bed, grinned a little and resisted the urge to chuckle. "He gets that a lot, darlin'."
"I-- Uhh--" One look at the man with the Southern drawl and she got knocked off-guard. Oh my God. Not blushin'. Not blushin'. C'mon, Izzi, focus. That just made him grin wider and it was time for Isabella to shift her focus back to her patient. "Mister Bonham--"
"Mister Bonham's my dad. You can call me John, sweetheart." The man - easily in his mid-to-late forties - replied with a suggestive grin before looking at his friend. "What?"
"Don't pay any attention to him, he hits on anythin' with a pretty face." The Southern man replied, shooting an exasperated look at John.
This only made her blush more. "John, my name is Isabella and I'm one of the volunteers here at St. Vincent's. I basically just come visit you, deliver flowers or cards, make sure you get whatever y'need." Crossing over to his bedside, she placed a gentle hand atop his and smiled down at him. "Can I get you anythin'?"
John looked up at her and when he met her strikingly green eyes, his heart stopped for a moment before beating rapidly and he swallowed hard. The younger man knit his brow and slowly rose from his seat with a confused expression on his face.
"John? John are you alright? Your pulse just spiked." Isabella squeezed his hand gently to get him to respond, but he kept staring at her and it was making her really nervous.
"Blake, sit down. I'm fine." Dean said gruffly, before looking down at their hands. "Sweetheart, what's your name?"
At this, Isabella blinked. "Uhh, it's Isabella. I just told you that."
"Not what I meant."
"I--"
Blake looked between the two and he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. There were more weird looks between the two before John sighed heavily, closed his eyes, and repeated himself. "What's your name?"
"I-Isabella Winchester. A-Actually it's Isabella Morasca-Winchester but that gets tiring to say in conversation so I just--"
"Leave."
Pulling her hand back, confused and a little hurt, Isabella blinked. "I-I-- Did I say somethin' to offend you?"
Turning his head to look away, Dean fought back a few tears and said it again. "Leave. Now."
"I- I'm sorry if I said somethin' to--"
"Nah, darlin', you didn't do anythin' wrong." Blake cooed reassuringly as he placed a hand on her shoulder to guide her gently to the door. "He's been through a lot and he's not exactly a gentleman when he's tired."
Taking one last look back at her patient, Isabella studied his face and leaned against the door as Blake closed it behind her. He looks familiar. But I don't know anyone by that name...
"So, Dean..." Blake said casually as he took a seat by the bed once more, "Wanna tell me about what the hell just happened there?"