#superntual

John booked the flight to North Cove, Washington the morning after the phone call that changed everything.

After the initial explosion of screaming and tears shared between Mary and John in the kitchen the night before the house had become quiet as a tomb.

Sammy who'd sat wide eyes and confused with Dean throughout the first hour of the argument had fled to his room and only snuck downstairs to grab breakfast the next morning when he probably thought everyone was still sleeping.

Sam froze at the top of the stairs seeing Dean sitting wide awake beside still folded blankets on the couch (John spent the night in Dean's old room.) before scurrying back upstairs with his bowl of cereal.

Maybe it was Dean’s sleep-deprived brain, maybe it was the need to escape the cloying thick fog of John's sins that covered the house...

‘It would probably take Jesus himself and a couple blessed industrial fans to clear out that choking black cloud.’

But when his dad had asked he'd agreed to take the three-hour flight to Washington state to meet Castiel Kline and…

…the baby.

Dean couldn't think about it, if he did it would end up just like the night before, this time with him in a screaming match with John, the same questions being asked over and over with no satisfying answers given.

He checked on Mary multiple times before they left feeling something at his core pulling him back to his mother.

Her eyes were red but her face was calm as she put her hands gently on the sides of his face…

‘Like she did when he was a little boy.’

"It's okay… I just… I need some time… I'm taking Sam to stay with the Mosley’s for a few days. Just make sure your dad comes back in one piece okay?"

Dean had hugged her, not sure what else to do. He couldn't even tell her it was okay when she cried.

Sam just seemed numb, working on the same homework from the night before, barely looking up when Dean looked in on him.

‘For once the kid didn't feel like talking about his feelings…’

Dean was grateful.

By seven in the morning, May 20th Dean was boarding the flight with his father. The fact that he was even willing to be within a mile off the airport was a true testament to how desperate he was to flee the house.

‘Being trapped with his dad in the coach section of a metal tube a few thousand feet off the ground wasn’t much better.’

A hundred things had run through his head to throw at his dad, both words and literal objects. But when he saw the man who raised him with bloodshot eyes and a look like he'd had the world pulled from under his feet it made Dean hesitate.

He couldn't do it.

If he was to give in to the angry selfish pit in his stomach… Who would keep everything from falling to shit?

His dad… couldn't.

‘It was John’s secret that had done it…’

Sam had withdrawn from everyone, and Mary… maybe she could but Dean wouldn't even think of putting that on her.

So Dean kept his head forward and his mouth shut.

He and John only spoke when they absolutely had to the flight, the dark cloud from the house had followed and left them both in a numb haze.

"Where are you supposed to meet this dude Castiel?"

John barely looked over, "in the west of the city, 106th avenue road… there's an apartment complex there."

‘Who's fucking apartment dad?’

Dean squeezed his next words past the lump of betrayal in his chest.

"His place…?"

John was silent a long moment, "Kelly's…"

Dean's need to fucking scream was cut off by a jolt of turbulence that made him clutch the armrest of the narrow airplane seat and swear for an entirely different reason.

The questions still sat bitterly on the back of Dean's tongue.

"How the hell could you do this to mom?"

"If this shit didn't happen would you have even said a damn thing?"

"Say something… anything?"

But as far as Dean could see there was no excuse, not for something like this. Just concept of the father who raised him and Sam, who berated him growing up when he lied about something as small as slipping a candy bar in the cart shopping, who taught him what it was supposed to mean to be a man, cheating on Mary?

It felt like an alien had taken over John’s body, like something possessed him...

Dean would have almost preferred John took his secret to his grave let their family live in the bliss that was fucking ignorance, but now…

A woman was dead, and there was a baby… a fucking baby. John's kid. His and Sam's… sibling?

Was that even the fucking word to use? How could someone be their sibling, their family , if they only existed because their father betrayed his real family? The woman he’d made his vows to, their mother?

It was too big. Just too big to touch, not today.

So instead Dean visualized the plane plummeting down to the ground in a blaze of fire and screaming metal because that was for some reason was fucking easier.

For once the culture of silence between Dean and his dad came in handy, they only exchanged a few words after that, about who would get the rental car and who would call to check in with the hotel room for the night.

Dean asked why exactly they had come, what exactly they were planning to do, John was silent, looking pained over the dashboard.

"I… I need to discuss that with your mom…"

It made Dean's stomach squirm, it sounded like a question.

'At least now he was thinking about Mary…'

"Hmm…" was all Dean said trying not to imagine the first time John drove the route to Kelly's apartment not quite nine months earlier.

‘His parents had been arguing about… something before John left.’

John had driven up to Washington to pick up a replacement lift for the shop from a friend, Dean thought he remembered.

Kelly’s apartment building was a depressing three-story gray square facing toward the street.

‘Maybe it looked better at night with the six fingers of whiskey paving over the commitment you were supposed to have for your family…’

Dean trailed behind his dad up the stairs and to the door. John knocked once, no one answered for a full minute.

"Maybe we should have ca-..."

The door suddenly swung open revealing a disheveled man in a rumpled suit, kid really, around Dean's age, though the dark circles and red rims of his eyes made him look older. He blinked at them dazedly as though lost in a dream before his face hardened.

"John Winchester?"

"Castiel?" John's mouth twitched in an attempt to be polite, "you know my face?"

"Kelly had a picture on her phone…" Castiel muttered gruffly seeming distracted, stepping back warily from the door and gesturing John inside. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Dean.

"I'm Dean, one of John's... sons…" Dean explained awkwardly.

Castiel didn't say a word, just stared unnervingly at Dean for a long moment before gesturing him inside as well.

Dean offered a strained smile ducking quickly past him into the apartment’s cluttered living room Castiel quickly closing the door and following behind him.

Castiel shoved the mess of blankets and throw pillows to one side of the couch and pushed a duffle bag beneath the coffee table, he must have been staying with his sister in the days before the baby was born.

"Sorry, we just got back a few hours ago, I haven't gotten a chance to… clean up yet," Castiel muttered voice hoarse, "I think Ke-" his voice shook and he grimaced like he was dangerously close to tears, "my sister has... tea?"

"We're fine," John answered for both of them taking a seat on the cleared sofa Dean close behind.

Dean spotted what must have been a family photo perched on the side table and picked it up for a closer inspection. An unassuming mother and father, a dark-haired pre-teen boy with a slightly crooked smile that looked a lot like Castiel, and… that must be her, Kelly.

The back of Dean’s neck seemed to prickle and he looked up. Castiel was glaring at him still holding a pillow with a scowl on his face like Dean had just plundered his sister's underwear drawer. Dean quickly and discreetly set the frame aside.

‘Sheesh, dude…’

There was a long awkward pause before anyone spoke.

"So… what happened…" John finally asked.

Castiel stared down playing with the throw pillow still in his hands before settling in the armchair opposite the couch, "S-she…" he had to pause swallowing shakily, "a few days ago Kelly went in for a routine prenatal exam, and… her blood pressure was high so they… they ran some tests and thought she might have pre-eclampsia."

Dean had no idea what that meant but nodded.

"So… the doctor's decided it would be best for her… and the baby if they delivered early by… by C-section…but..."

Castiel had to stop and take another heavy breath, like his sister's death was a physical weight pressing down on his chest.

"The doctor said it was a freak surgery complication, that they couldn't have done anything differently," Castiel’s face screwed up bitterly in a wry smile, "they said there was an embolism that traveled to her heart and when it stopped… and there was nothing they could do…"

There was another pregnant pause.

"But the baby it’s…" John asked carefully.

"Fine, just fine…" Castiel sniffed and rubbed away the tears pooling in his eyes surreptitiously, straightening up, composing himself.

"Great actually… they were a little worried because they had to perform the C-section a few weeks early… and… pre-eclampsia can affect the size and health of the baby but…" he smiled softly, fondly, "the doctor said everything was just fine, surprisingly big and strong for the circumstances.

There was another long pause before John asked what was on everyone's mind.

"And… Kelly was sure the baby was mine?"

Castiel's eyes snapped up, "my sister didn't make a point of sleeping with random men to scam them if that's what you mean."

"Hey hey dude chill, no one's saying that," Dean held up his hands defensively, feeling a pang of annoyance.

"It's just…" John cut in, "why didn't she call or something, try to get in contact with me, why are we only learning this now, why didn't she tell me she was pregnant?"

Castiel's mouth twitched into an unpleasant little snarl, "you mean like how you didn't feel like telling her you were married."

You could hear a pin drop.

"I…" John looked pained guiltier than Dean had ever seen him, literally wringing his hands in his lap, "Honestly, we were both drunk, I barely remember what we talked about but I'm pretty sure I wasn't trying to hide anything from her…”

Castiel made an ugly bitter noise getting up and beginning to pace back and forth, "and I'm sure that's the sign of a great father…"

Dean's chest burned with anger, "what did you just…"

"She did go to see you once," Castiel cut him off seeming to stare down John, "apparently in that conversation, you don’t remember you told her about your shop, she looked it up online and from there found your address… but when she knocked on the door… and your son answered, told her only his mother, your wife was home?" Castiel put extra accusatory weight on the word ‘ wife ’.

John said nothing.

"She decided not to bother you… decided it would be better if she just raised her baby alone. She didn't want to feel responsible for screwing up your marriage, even though I told her that wasn't her fault…"

John continued to say nothing face darkening.

Castiel continued, "and who was I to argue with her decision, maybe she was right, I mean you can't exactly know the character of a drunk man in a bar who cheats on his wife while across the country…"

John finally spoke eyes flashing, sounding irate, "Yeah, I totally came in that bar with the intention of cheating on my wife, and I must have lied to her about being married so she’d agree to have sex with me.  If that's really what you think, then why call now, why call at all?"

"I don't know!" Castiel burst out pausing in his pacing, "I wasn’t thinking straight, my sister is dead, I thought maybe you should know, I…"

A soft sound broke off the argument, echoing through what looked like a pastel blue walkie talkie beside the couch. The sound grew to a soft mewling bawl. An infant crying.

Castiel sighed looking exhausted rubbing at his face and walking around the couch, muttering self deprecatingly to himself about being too loud and heading into what Dean assumed was Kelly’s bedroom.

Dean and John sat wordlessly, listening to the soft sobbing of the infant over the baby monitor and the slightly anxious hushing of Castiel.

“I know, I know, you’re okay I promise, please go back to sleep... “

The baby’s cries seemed to grow louder and Castiel emerged from the room holding a small bundle of blankets.

Both Winchester’s straightened awkwardly.

Castiel looked sheepish and exhausted cradling and gently rocking the weeping buddle in his arms.

“I… I’m sorry I just got him to sleep when you arrived, I… we were driving around the neighborhood,” Castiel stifled a yawn.

“He?” John said cautiously getting up.

Castiel nodded not looking up, “yeah... a boy…” he said absentmindedly, “I can’t get him to go to sleep when he’s not in the car.”

John slowly approached Castiel, like he was coming up beside a wounded animal. Dean found himself curiously following.

The infant was smaller than he expected, tiny face screwed up with tears a soft tuft of sandy blonde hair peeking out of the green froggy blanket he was wrapped in.

“Sammy was the same way,” John said, a soft wistful smile touching his face as he looked down at the tiny boy, the only positive emotion Dean had seen in him since the phone call, “baby swings sometimes help…”

Castiel stepped back from them a little wary holding the baby protectively to his chest. John raised his hands in mock surrender.

“I’m not going to do anything jeez… It’s just… I’ve raised two kids I could help…”

Castiel relaxed a little but still looked wary, the baby’s crying began to subside into soft hiccuping as he continued rocking.

“I’m… we’re okay… I- I’ve read some books…” the man mumbled sounding unsure as the blond infant finally seemed to settle tiny pink mouth opening in a yawn.

Castiel settled heavily in the armchair.

“Did Kelly get the chance to… What’s his name?” John asked carefully.

“She named him after our father,” Castiel didn’t look up from the tiny face now staring quizzically up at him, “Jack… his name is Jack….”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

April 22nd, 2017

Jack was not feeling very well.

He couldn’t recall much of what happened last night, or even this morning if he was being honest. Everything turned blurred and heavy after he started getting dizzy washing his face in the diner bathroom the day before.

He remembered not being able to slip the groggy run-down feeling he got from the eight-hour car ride to Lawrence.

He remembered the yelling, visiting John in the graveyard, the anxiety of being in a place he wasn’t wanted making him want to crawl into a freshly backhoed hole in the ground himself.

He remembered the exhausted feeling he’d been fighting only getting worse along with the scratching ache in his chest after his nap in the hotel room; feeling lightheaded and on edge, like he couldn’t quite get his bearings on the world around him…

Then… they’d gone for dinner.

He remembered sometime after he’d gone to the restroom waking with his arm and head aching, feeling far away and so so tired, like a thick dark blanket was drawn over his brain, and he remembered… Cas, hearing his voice, seeing his face in moments of lucidity and feeling safe.

And now that he was really truly awake for the first time in what felt like days Cas was off somewhere else, leaving him alone in an alien environment, tubes and needles stuck everywhere they didn’t belong.

He knew it wasn’t fair or kind, he knew it didn’t even make logical sense for him to be mad about it… But, Jack couldn’t convince the nervous lonely part of his mind that resented Cas for leaving of that.

Sam was there, hovering nearby, trying hard to fill in his uncle’s shoes, and Jack appreciated him for staying but… It wasn’t the same.

He seemed like a nice person, he felt it when he’d stayed with him when the doctor was prodding him earlier. He’d thought he saw it in the goofy little bear he’d brought.

‘Then again Castiel was always saying he needed to be a better judge of character. Though he may have just been referring to the fact that Jack was friends with someone he caught smoking weed behind the high school’s language arts building.’

But...

Being around Sam was too confusing. There was too much thinking about what the man expected of him. Jack couldn’t connect the man who’d barely said a word to him in the graveyard with the man who held his hand when he was being childish and fearful; he was too tired and too busy anxiously trying to get a grip on everything else going on to worry about that.

If he was being honest, Jack preferred unconsciousness.

The wrist Castiel had explained was sprained and had a small fracture in it before he left had swollen up to nearly twice its normal size and without a cast Jack couldn’t seem to keep it still enough to stop random jolts of pain from jolting up his arm.

The rest of Jack’s body was almost worse.

His head kept throbbing like some asshole had decided to bash him in the head with a ceramic sink.

‘Which much to chagrin he learned wasn’t too far from the truth, the asshole in question being his brain doing its best impression of being tased.’

They’d finally given him a few Tylenol about an hour after Doctor Hannah had stuck a needle in his back.

‘A memory Jack tried desperately to forget despite the uncomfortable itching of the receding anesthetic in his back’

A big man with a beard and kind eyes had come in with a kit of vials and a handful of white sterile sachets. Jack was starting to loathe the sight of white plastic.

‘more tests ’

The man introduced himself to Jack with an amused smile and southern drawl.

“Hi, I’m nurse Benny… the vampire.”

Jack blinked owlishly at him head tilting and even Sam looked up bemused.

Nurse Benny chuckled, “that’s what you called me last night when I came to draw your blood. You were with an older man, your dad?”

Jack’s face turned pink and he felt his throat and eyes burn with homesickness at the mention of his uncle’s name. He had absolutely no memory of the event.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled woefully.

The man's mouth opened for a moment like he wanted to suck the words back in instead of blood and awkwardly patted his arm. “That’s okay bud, I might have to stick to that nickname now, it kinda fits.”

He let the man take more of his blood too tired for small talk or fear after that, grateful that he was far more gentle than his size would suggest..

Jack had tried to get some rest after the nurse left but at this point it felt like a lost cause. He was doomed to uncomfortably sit and wait for Castiel to return or for the next invasive and terrifying test; whichever came first.

The Tylenol he was given did a little to ease the ache in his head and arm but it did nothing at all for the discomfort in his chest, and the ache in his abdomen just seemed to get worse in spite of it.

He’d never felt anything like it before.

He’d been able to ignore it before when it was just a dull ache at the bottom of his rib cage that really only spiked with a particularly violent bout of coughing. He thought it was from all the coughing at first…

But it only got worse, the pain had wrapped itself all the way around to his back and was only growing; aching like the aftermath of a fight where someone held him down while he was punched repeatedly, like the worst stomach ache Jack had ever had.

It made Jack not want to move, not want to breathe in too deeply, it sapped all the energy out of him.

The pain didn't exactly make him nauseous but it did walk the fine line of making him not want to put anything into his body. Adding to tthe gross cloying feeling of malaise, he’d drank the cup of apple juice that was on his lunch tray just to keep Sam from bugging him about the rest of the meal being left uneaten.

Worst of all though… the pain wouldn't let him sleep. There was no way to pass the time that didn’t involve sitting in his uncomfortable body trying not to think too hard about everything the last twenty-four hours brought. Not how his body seemed to be betraying him in new terrifying ways every few hours. Not how Castiel was off somewhere else with his angry older brother who hated him when he really wanted him. Not how doctors and nurses kept coming in and poking and prodding and touching him, not how he couldn’t do anything to stop them because they were just trying to help him.

He hated thinking about it.

It made his chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with the itching tight heaviness there that made him keep coughing.

He’d watched a few minutes of cartoons and cop drama’s on the little old TV hanging in the far corner of the room, but staring at the tiny pictures just seemed to bring his headache back into closer focus.

He thought about starting a conversation with Sam but he didn’t have the energy and couldn’t think of anything to say. He didn’t know anything about Sam’s life and he couldn’t even talk about the weather because the only window to the outside in the little white world of his hospital room looked out onto the side of another building.

Jack finally started reading everything his eyes could reach from the safety of his static position leaning against his pillows out of the sheer need for a distraction. Like the embarrassing giraffe printed hospital wristband, they used in the pediatrics ward…

Jack H. Winchester/Kline - 856-35223

Dob - 05/18/00

Admit. - 4/22/17

Doctor - H. Hannah

He’d read all the tiny label’s on the bed controls, could name the brands on the various pieces of medical equipment in the room, felt the tiny letters and numbers lasered into the itchy tube feeding oxygen into his nose. He even read the labels of the various bags of medication the doctors had slowly dripping into his veins.

It wasn’t as if the labels meant anything to him. He knew what saline was from health class but the label of other little yellow tinged bag was a mystery of nonsense letters. He didn’t even have his phone to look it up.

Now there was an act of great Jackness, getting himself grounded right before a long trip. Thank god he had been tired enough to sleep for most of the drive from Indiana to Kansas.

Something about the fact that no one back home knew what had happened to him made Jack feel faintly unnerved and lonely. Clarke and Maggie probably just thought Jack was still grounded and Castiel was being particularly vigilant in keeping all electronics out of his reach in the meantime.

They’d be confused Monday morning when Jack didn’t show up for class.

‘If anyone even notices you’re gone.’

Jack knew if he pleaded his case, explained why he wanted his phone for just a few minutes his uncle would probably cave and let him send his friends a message… but… he couldn’t.

It was his fault he didn’t have his phone and couldn’t text them, what he’d done in Mr. Shurley’s class was so ungodly stupid, he already knew the man didn’t like him and then he’d…

“Jack please, just tell me what happened…” Castiel had pleaded exasperated and confused that day in the highschool’s office.

Jack had never had any kind of academic probation before and he wasn’t about to explain what happened this time. He knew what would happen, he knew how his uncle would react, it was such a stupid pathetic thing to do and he couldn’t stand to see the look of disappointment and sadness he knew he’d see on Castiel’s face. Cas had had no choice but to ground him…

Jack’s hands tightened around the blanket in his lap. He heard Sam’s muffled voice after a long moment and blinked up owlishly.

“Hmm?”

“I said do you need anything?” Sam asked hesitantly still hovering above the keyboard of his laptop.

‘Cas…’

Jack shook his head reflexively and smiled back politely, “I’m okay…”

Sam seemed to like asking questions like that, his large spidery hands kneading into one another with nervousness. Jack wasn’t entirely sure why Sam asked, probably to be polite maybe because like Jack he felt like he was supposed to do something in this situation.

After the evening before though Jack felt… hesitant to respond.

Still… at least he was trying.

“Th-thank you…” Jack mumbled, coughing to try and clear his chest for the tenth time so far that hour.

It was Sam’s turn to act incredibly awkward, “hmm?”

“For earlier?” Jack said voice lilting without his permission into a question.

Sam blinked the nervous look on his face breaking for a moment into a genuine smile, “don’t sweat it…”

The moment was left to hang and grow stale in the air neither of them knowing what to say beyond that.

Sam’s phone rang and he fumbled to grab it, blinking at the text “your uncle says they’ll be back in ten minutes.”

‘Thank god…’

----

It was actually only eight minutes before the friendly Doctor Hannah entered with a slight smile on her face.

“Look who I found in the lobby.”

Castiel peeked out from behind her looking a little sheepish but relieved. Jack felt like a ten-pound weight was lifted off his chest.

“Cas!” Jack couldn’t help smiling and leaning towards him on his side wincing as a throb of pain echoed the movement through his belly, and the itch in his throat caused by speaking loudly after a few hours of saying less than ten words caused a short bout of deep-chested coughs.

His uncle smiled back and came over to hug him gentler than his usual bear hugs, careful of the various tubes and wires sticking out of Jack.

He heard the doctor chuckle from behind him and another voice behind her, “Jeez, if this is you two after being apart a few hours I’d hate to see you after a day.”

Cas sent Dean a dirty look and Jack stiffened a little but Dean made no other comment just wandered to sit in his same seat as earlier that day and quickly engrossing himself in something on his phone.

“Was everything alright while I was gone?” Castiel sat on the edge of Jack’s bed addressing the doctor but looking Jack in the eye as he ruffled his dirty blonde hair.

Jack felt immediately anxious looking away in embarrassment happy the doctor was answering instead of him.

“We did a lumbar puncture about an hour ago and you…” she aimed the end of her sentence at Jack, “still need to be lying down.”

Jack gave her a tiny guilty smile leaning back against his pillows.

“Lumbar puncture?” Cas searched Jack’s face worriedly, “I… we talked about that but I was under the impression I’d be here when you did it.”

“I’m f-fine,” Jack reassured him raspily hacking into the back of his hand, the flash of energy Cas’s return brought was beginning to wane as Jack’s head and back throbbed at him, “Sam… helped…”

Cas seemed surprised turning to look at the tall man, “Thank... you?” Castiel said still teetering on the edge of Jack’s bed.

Sam just smiled sheepishly up from his laptop.

Doctor Hannah said sounding honestly apologetic when she explained, “We had to go ahead and finish the tests this afternoon if we want to have results by tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” Jack sighed, he wasn’t really expecting to be able to leave the hospital that night but hearing it confirmed…

“I’m sorry Jack but it looks like you’ll be staying with us a while longer,” the doctor picked up his chart and began scanning it.

“What about the… the lung tests from earlier? Do we know anything from those yet?” Castiel asked hopefully.

Jack swallowed reflexively at the memory of having the bronchoscopy camera down his throat, even with the numbing spray they gave him it still made him want to gag.

“Well, we didn’t find any active bleeding in his lungs…” Jack could feel the but coming, “but there is still a good bit of inflammation and some fluid in his lungs.”

“What does that mean?” Sam said unexpectedly, looking concerned.

“The test was… inconclusive,” Doctor Hanah said cagily, “There is a small likelihood the bleeding came from inside the lungs and it has since stopped, but the greater likelihood is that Jack is developing pneumonia as a result of aspirating blood during the seizure…”

Castiel didn’t seem to like the sound of that, “so… so pneumonia would be the more positive outcome in this situation?”

Doctor Hannah smiled diplomatically, “we’ll know more when the tests come back of the fluid in his chest if he contracted an opportunistic infection. In the meantime, we’re keeping him on supplemental oxygen and we started him on a course of antibiotics, to try and clear things up before it can get worse.”

“So that’s what the little yellowish bag of fluids was…”

Castiel sighed but seemed to relax a little.

“What about that thing that was worrying you earlier?” Sam’s voice piped up.

‘Damn…’

“Thing? Wh-what thing?” Castiel said anxiously, voice tightening, scrutinizing Jack worriedly.

Jack blushed and he just mumbled, “it’s just a stupid stomachache…”

He fought the urge to give Sam an iritable look, he knew it was stupid perhaps even dangerous but some part of him was still frustrated with the man for saying anything, that cried it would just make him have to stay here longer.

It was the same part of his brain that told him to keep his mouth shut to not say a word even as the pain in his stomach continued to descend and intensify in strange terrifying new ways. He knew it would be best for him if he explained everything as soon as he felt it but…

It was like talking about it made it real, made him have to admit to himself that something was very wrong.

“I just want to go home…”

The doctor paused for a moment her forehead wrinkling looking cagey, “Jack is having some abdominal pain I’m concerned about the location of, it could be something or it could be nothing so I ordered a few extra tests on the blood we took… But, I don’t want you to panic…”

Jack stared down at his hands fidgeting trying to disperse some of the anxious energy building up in his fingertips, not looking at his uncle.

“There was one thing we did notice when we ran one of our more immediate tests on Jack’s recent blood samples…” Her words seemed to lighten a little, and Jack peeked curiously back up at her.

“Your blood sugar is dropping…”

‘Oh…’

Jack hunched a little at that but continued to say nothing.

“You still haven’t eaten anything?” Castiel’s blue eyes tightened in concern, bordering on disappointment as got up and looked under the lid of the tray still perched on the bed table. “Jack, you barely had anything yesterday and you didn’t have any of the breakfast the nurse brought you this morning…”

Jack just shrugged and huffed exasperated, he didn’t want anything, his stomach physically hurt and didn’t seem to be getting any better. The idea of eating something felt… wrong. Even the juice he’d forced himself to drink earlier didn’t seem to want to sit properly, like he’d swallowed pins instead of a sugary fruit beverage.

“I’m not hungry…” he said simply.

Castiel sighed moving to sit in a chair beside the bed the doctor gave him a sympathetic grimace.

“Be that as it may we need you to try, I know being in the hospital probably doesn’t exactly... inspire your appetite but you need your strength to get better…”

Jack still said nothing rolling onto his side away from her.

“Are you nauseous?” the doctor asked gently.

‘Not exactly…’

“No…” Jack muttered curling up defensively.

The doctor sighed and turned toward Cas, “I’ll have an orderly bring in something new that hasn’t been sitting out for him alright?”

A tense silence followed the doctor’s departure. Jack could feel Castiel’s worried eyes on him and couldn't bring himself to look back.

It was so quiet a shuffling from Dean’s chair made Jack jump.

“I uh… I’m probably going to leave soon, I have an engine rebuild I promised to have done by tomorrow…” Dean said slowly sounding less self-assured than the Dean Jack had heard ranting the day before as he cautiously got up from his chair,  “Unless that nervous history kid still need us for something?”

Castiel’s anxious glaring finally left Jack and he looked to Dean brow wrinkled in thought, “I don’t think so… But, it probably would have been a good idea to ask the doctor before she left…”

Dean gave a frustrated huff but sat back in his uncomfortable-looking waiting chair without further protest arms crossing over his plaid chest.

Cas’s eyes went back to Jack who quickly looked out the window continuing to play keep-away with his line of sight. He heard Cas sigh, resigned to stop his badgering for the moment.

“Mrs. Harvelle told me to tell you she hopes you feel better soon…” Castiel said softly.

Jack, didn’t really want to think about school right now, he wanted to avoid thinking about anything that made his stomach twist with anxiety - it already hurt enough without it - but he liked the nice assistant principal and was tricked into looking up.

“It will take a lot longer for you to heal and get back if you don’t eat Jack…” Castiel said in his ‘worried guardian’ voice.

Jack’s mouth twisted into a frustrated pout, “You don’t know that… for all you know that could make things worse…”

At the very least it would feel worse Jack was fairly certain.

“Is that what you’re afraid of? Why you’re not eating?” Castiel tried.

Jack coughed blushing then glared at him, “No…”

Castiel looked at him expectantly for elaboration, Jack pinched the edge of his blanket awkwardly with his braced hand and drew it belligerently over his head.

Jack heard a muffled laugh badly disguised behind a cough that definitely didn’t come from his uncle.  

Jack didn’t really care he was just happy to be left alone, he was glad his uncle was back, but with his head aching the way it was he would much rather Cas remain a presence and not a voice.

There were far too many people in his room now anyway and he was becoming abundantly aware of how embarrassing Cas could be.

‘Jack’s distinct lack of pants wasn’t particularly helping either.’

Jack finally seemed to find a somewhat comfortable position that wasn’t pressing on the sore part of his back or stomach and was almost in a doze when he heard the rustle and clinking of an orderly entering. He tried to ignore it but Cas pulled the blanket off his head.

“They brought you some new food… it looks good,” Cas tried to tempt him.

Jack pulled a face, he highly doubted that, but reached out and let Cas pull him into a seated position anyway.

His head swam and a jolt of pain shot through his gut. He bit back a pained gasp. Castiel watched him worriedly rubbing his back.

Jack closed his eyes and breathed heavily as the pain faded and the world stopped tilting, he quickly pushed away the panic rising in his chest, what the hell was happening to him?

The one time he’d gotten out of bed that day in order to use the bathroom and brush his teeth he’d had to (much to his embarrassment) have a nurse help him because black dots kept swimming over his vision. And he couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that something was very wrong.

‘He really didn’t feel right…’

The thought made his stomach churn, the smell of whatever savory nonsense Castiel had uncovered really wasn’t helping.

“I’m not hungry…” Jack insisted crossing his arms to stop their fearful shaking and blinking back tears.

Cas sighed, “Jack, you heard Dr. Hannah… please just try something.”

Jack spared the tray a glance a little embarrassed to see what was probably a “children’s option” for the pediatric ward.

‘Probably because you’re being a fussy baby about the food…’

Even the offering of very innocuous dinosaur-shaped nuggets, sweet corn, and strawberry yogurt couldn’t entice him.

“I… I don’t want any of this…” Jack muttered eyes stinging, feeling like a petulant child, both because of his refusal to do what was asked and because even a whiff of the chicken was making him feel like a liar about the state of his now increasingly rocky stomach.

“Jack…” Castiel looked exasperated barely hiding honest distress and confusion, Jack wasn’t usually like this, “please talk to me.”

“I…” Jack’s eyes began to tear up in earnest, he didn’t know what he was holding him back, what was keeping him from telling him how terrible he was feeling.

Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be any more vulnerable than he had to be in front of Sam and Dean, maybe he didn’t want to make Castiel any more scared than he already was. More likely though it was the tang of acid rising in the back of his throat the next time he inhaled the smell of food that kept him from wanting to open his mouth.

“I don’t…” Jack’s voice shook, he swallowed feeling his back break out in cold sweat, “I don’t feel so good…”

Castiel’s eyes widened, he’d been in the role of a parent long enough to know what that meant.

He began fumbling around pulling out the drawers of the side table muttering panicked, “hold on Jack just hold on…” he had the presence of mind to push away the rolling bed table with the offensive food.

Jack’s stomach lurched painfully and he clapped a hand over his mouth with a gag, the pulse ox popping off his finger in his haste the machine beside the bed immediately beginning to beep dramatically.

‘No no no…’ Jack shook mortified.

“What’s going on?” Sam’s eyes met Jack’s panicked ones for a split second before he joined the kerfuffle. Sam almost tripping over Dean’s legs in his haste to help. Jack could barely hear anything over the loud throb of his own heartbeat...

“Where’s the thing?” the bed shook.

“What thing?” Castiel’s chair squeaked.

“The little weird bean-shaped thing from earlier for the blood!”

“What!?”

Jack made a hideous sound as he swallowed back another retch doubling up, it felt like a stab in his gut.

Sam made a split second inspired decision reaching over the bed and grabbing the lid of the food tray flipping it upside down and shoving it under Jack’s chin.

“Here, here!”

Jack had no time to protest as his stomach decided it was time to stop fucking around and clenched violently, he threw up what little juice and bile was in his stomach clutching the lid like a lifeline.

“Fuck…!” there was a yelp and a thud as a startled Dean rose and tripped, foot catching on the leg of his chair in the crowded hospital room.

Jack coughed and wiped his mouth shakily with the back of his hand when it was over, wanting to sink back and disappear into his mattress as the machine by his bed continued to shriek.

Right about then the door suddenly opened and no less than three concerned nurses and the doctor stared into the room in confusion.

Dean blinked disheveled up from the floor where he’d fallen.

Sam stood like a deer in the headlights still holding on to the contaminated vomit lid.

Jack breathed heavily, trying to control his shaking nauseous body. He didn’t think he’d mind dropping dead at the moment.

Castiel addressed the group from where he stood awkwardly beside the bed, “I um… I don’t think Jack is hungry...”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Sorry it took so long to post, I was traveling again, and had my own experience with a family health emergency that made this particular story very hard to write for a while. But I'm back. :)

-

* Jack sleeps best after being driven around as a baby because in canon the first time Jack slept (I'm not counting being knocked unconscious with a taser) was in the back of the Impala.

* Yes doctor Hannah’s first and last name are both Hannah, for now, I chickened out on giving angel Hannah a different last name.

-

1. Who is your favorite character in 2?

Blaine Anderson :D

2. Who is your least favorite character in 1?

Lucifer

3. What’s your favorite episode of 4?

THIS IS SO DIFFICULT. uh probably the episode where Sam turns into that bull thing to kill Marianne and he has to trust Bill.

4. What is your favorite season of 5?

Season Four hands down, Donna Noble is my favorite companion

5. What’s your favorite relationships in 3?

Marshall and Lily <3

6. Who is your anti-relationship in 2?

Seblaine

7.How long have you watched 1?

Almost four years now

8. How did you become interested in 3?

My best friend told me about it and it was a great decision to start watching

9. Who is your favourite actor in 4?

Nelsan Ellis (he plays Lafayette and I fucking love him)

10. Which show do you prefer 1, 2, or 5?

I CANNOT CHOOSE. I REFUSE. ALL OF THEM. YOLO.

11. Which show have you seen more episodes of 1 or 3?

probably supernatural

12. If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be?

uh... sookie stackhouse, just so i could fuck eric northman

13. Would a 3/4 crossover work?

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER AND TRUE BLOOD? hahahahahahahahahaha no.

14. Pair two characters in 1 that would make an unlikely, but strangely okay couple.

Bobby Singer and Ellen Harvelle

15. Overall, which show has the better cast, 3 or 5?

it's two totally different genres.

16. Which has the better theme music, 2 or 4?