A click came from the door as it was being unlocked. Dean Winchester walked inside the motel room, not wanting to do anything other than sleep.
 “How was he?” his brother, Sam, asked sitting on one of the two beds. His forehead was creased with worry lines and there was a small frown on his lips.
Dean just shook his head as he locked the door.
“Dean?” Sam asked, his voice soft. His attempt in delicacy was appreciated. Dean stood in front of the door, not having turned around yet. He let his head fall back as he took in a deep breath, steadying his emotions.
“He’s getting worse, Sammy,” Dean barely managed to prevent his voice from cracking. When he turned around his brother had his arms open and was moving towards him. Dean hated this, but he accepted the hug. Hell, he needed it.
Every time Dean visited it became harder and harder to keep himself together. He started believing the worst, rather than just fearing it. Castiel was losing his memory, slowly, but surely.
Dean rapped lightly on the blue hospital door.
“Come in,” he was given in reply.
He opened the door slowly, to see a man resting just under six foot with dark hair and blue eyes standing at the foot of the hospital bed.  He was apparently doing something with the television before Dean had interrupted him.
“Oh, hello,” Castiel, the now fallen angel, greeted him. Dean tightened his lips letting his eyes fall to the floor for a moment. The tone in those words was as though Dean was just another orderly coming in to give him his check-up. He almost turned around and left right then.
“Hey, Cas,” Dean choked out.
 Castiel’s head tilted to the side as he looked over at Dean, his eyes squinting. His face burst into a smile. “Oh! It’s you.”
Dean forced out a breathy chuckle because it was better than breaking down in front of the man who was once in love with him.
“I brought you something,” Dean moved towards the bed setting the paper bag in his arms on the sheets. Castiel moved to stand beside him, slightly too close. Dean opened the bag to reveal a burger, but not just any burger, a special burger. Homemade, free-range ground sirloin with lettuce, tomatoes, ketchup, and Swiss cheese.
“How did you know this was my favorite?” Castiel beamed removing the sandwich from the bag. Dean forced a smile out while the fallen angel took a bite.
The two sat together while Castiel ate. He was the one doing most of the talking since Dean knew if he spoke his composure would betray him. Castiel explained how there was a show on the TV that he did not like and how he was trying to change it. The remote wasn’t working so he had to get up, because calling a nurse for that is just a waste. Dean simply smiled and nodded.
When he was finished they both stood and Dean offered to take his trash and Castiel smiled. Just as Dean was grabbing the trash from his hands, Castiel stopped him saying, “Wait…”
Dean bit his lip, he sounded like his Cas there briefly.
As the ex-angel held Dean’s hand, studying it, a soft and sad smile came to his lips. “Your hands,” he muttered. “Has anyone ever told you that you have wonderful hands?”
“Yes,” Dean coughed out in a half laugh, half sob.
With tears welling in his eyes he said, “You used to. All the time.”

A click came from the door as it was being unlocked. Dean Winchester walked inside the motel room, not wanting to do anything other than sleep.

 “How was he?” his brother, Sam, asked sitting on one of the two beds. His forehead was creased with worry lines and there was a small frown on his lips.

Dean just shook his head as he locked the door.

“Dean?” Sam asked, his voice soft. His attempt in delicacy was appreciated. Dean stood in front of the door, not having turned around yet. He let his head fall back as he took in a deep breath, steadying his emotions.

“He’s getting worse, Sammy,” Dean barely managed to prevent his voice from cracking. When he turned around his brother had his arms open and was moving towards him. Dean hated this, but he accepted the hug. Hell, he needed it.

Every time Dean visited it became harder and harder to keep himself together. He started believing the worst, rather than just fearing it. Castiel was losing his memory, slowly, but surely.

Dean rapped lightly on the blue hospital door.

“Come in,” he was given in reply.

He opened the door slowly, to see a man resting just under six foot with dark hair and blue eyes standing at the foot of the hospital bed.  He was apparently doing something with the television before Dean had interrupted him.

“Oh, hello,” Castiel, the now fallen angel, greeted him. Dean tightened his lips letting his eyes fall to the floor for a moment. The tone in those words was as though Dean was just another orderly coming in to give him his check-up. He almost turned around and left right then.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean choked out.

 Castiel’s head tilted to the side as he looked over at Dean, his eyes squinting. His face burst into a smile. “Oh! It’s you.”

Dean forced out a breathy chuckle because it was better than breaking down in front of the man who was once in love with him.

“I brought you something,” Dean moved towards the bed setting the paper bag in his arms on the sheets. Castiel moved to stand beside him, slightly too close. Dean opened the bag to reveal a burger, but not just any burger, a special burger. Homemade, free-range ground sirloin with lettuce, tomatoes, ketchup, and Swiss cheese.

“How did you know this was my favorite?” Castiel beamed removing the sandwich from the bag. Dean forced a smile out while the fallen angel took a bite.

The two sat together while Castiel ate. He was the one doing most of the talking since Dean knew if he spoke his composure would betray him. Castiel explained how there was a show on the TV that he did not like and how he was trying to change it. The remote wasn’t working so he had to get up, because calling a nurse for that is just a waste. Dean simply smiled and nodded.

When he was finished they both stood and Dean offered to take his trash and Castiel smiled. Just as Dean was grabbing the trash from his hands, Castiel stopped him saying, “Wait…”

Dean bit his lip, he sounded like his Cas there briefly.

As the ex-angel held Dean’s hand, studying it, a soft and sad smile came to his lips. “Your hands,” he muttered. “Has anyone ever told you that you have wonderful hands?”

“Yes,” Dean coughed out in a half laugh, half sob.

With tears welling in his eyes he said, “You used to. All the time.”