Burned - Destiel

XV

        Dean was making homework, algebra to be exact, when his father rushed into his room, a worried look present on his face. Dean immediately shot up from his chair.

        'What happened? Is Sammy OK?'

        "Grab your jacket and get in the car," John cut him off, not even looking at his hands. Dean looked at him dumbly for a second, which caused an incredulous look to cover his father's face. "Now, Dean."

        That caused memories to flood back to him, panic rising up quicker than he would have liked. The last time his father had used that line, his mother had died. He grabbed his jacket and a scarf, taking a quick look in the mirror to check if everything was covered before running downstairs.

        Much to his relief, he noticed a mob of brown hair flash before his eyes.

        Sammy.

        "Samuel, I told you I want you to stay home. I don't want you waiting in the car all by yourself or wait in there because that's not your call to make," John said angrily towards the boy that was lacing his shoelaces.

        "But dad, I'll be alone if I'm at home too. And I can wait in one of those smelly rooms! You won't even know I'm there," the boy replied. He sighed when his father's expression remained the same.

        "You will lock the door behind us and do whatever you want to do. Make homework, watch a movie. Hell, take some snacks. You can call me if somethings wrong. And no more whining, because I'm not gonna change my mind," John said, noticing Dean coming down the stairs. "Let's go, boy."

        Dean ruffled his brother's hair playfully, smirking when he heard an annoyed sound come from the boy's throat. However, the boy seemed sad, which didn't exactly ease Dean's thoughts. Who or what could possibly  be this-

        Oh no.

        Castiel had never replied to his messages.

        The thought crossed him when he sat down next to his father. He looked at the man with wide eyes, hoping that it was enough to beg for an explanation.  Luckily, that was the case.

        "Bobby just called me, saying some kid wasn't paying attention to the road and drove past a stop sign. He was driving his truck when it happened and couldn't slow down in time. He had pulled the boy out of the car before it caught on fire and noticed that you were the last person to send a message to his phone. He's already at the hospital."

        Dean was surprised to hear about Bobby. It had been quite some time since he had seen the man. The moody old man had taught Dean a lot about repairing cars. He knew about his scars, he just didn't care. It had at least been a year since he had seen him. He just hadn't felt like it after all the bullying that happened in that town.

        His heart seemed to stop for a second when he heard about the crash. He gave his father that same look that screamed 'tell me more'. John glanced at him for a second.

        "I called mister Edlund as soon as I got off the phone with Bobby. He was already there. So far he's broken his arm in two places, suffers from a major concussion and has a bruised leg. He's in surgery right now, but mister Edlund suggested you to come."

        Dean's eyes started to water as he imagined the scene that his father had described. Why wasn't he concentrated on driving? What happened? Was this his fault? Oh, God. What if he had stayed. What if he hadn't stayed for dinner?

        “Dean, boy. Listen to me. I know it's scary, but don't start to overthink this. I need you to be strong, OK. Castiel needs you to be strong. He will wake up and it's not your fault, alright?" A tear fell down Dean's cheek as he tried to breathe as slowly as possible. He looked outside, trying to stop his panic, but the best thing he could do right now is let it wash over.