He has no trouble helping others deal with physical pain, but this is something potentially far more terrifying than that. This was definitely what he wanted, so why would the thought of actually going through with it fill him with dread?
He wasn’t about to talk himself out of it now. He’d talked himself into this months ago, and then waited so long for this moment. Then again, he also knows he’d only be delaying the inevitable. On closer examination, each of them is easily worth a thousand words.Ĭas thinks to himself that if the weather were being more cooperative he could spend hours giving every last drawing the attention it deserves. The glowing Winchester Tattoo logo is clearly visible from the road, but the dozens of drawings that frame the sign and almost completely obscure the view into the shop from the sidewalk are another story entirely. The familiar neon-lit window looks so different up close than it does when he’s driving past. He pats down his pockets to be sure he has everything- phone, keys, wallet- and then readies himself for a mad sprint across the sidewalk through sheets of rain to the shelter of the shop’s awning. Everything feels right for once that day. It’s raining even harder now, and Cas just smiles to himself. He sits there for a minute, his head resting back against the seat as he basks in the welcoming glow of the blue and yellow neon sign in the window, the light streaked and shattered through the raindrops rolling down his windshield. He pulls in without a second thought and shuts the engine off. There’s an empty parking spot right in front of the door, like it was meant to be. He sees the shop every day on his way to work and every night as he drives back home. It’s raining as he pulls his car out of the parking garage and drives on autopilot. He waves to Alex the charge nurse at the desk and to a few other people who notice him leaving, but after the day he’s had nobody tries to hold him up when he looks so determined to leave. Something impulsive, but something he’d also been planning for a long time saving it up for the perfect moment.Ĭas pulls on his coat, the lapel catching on the hospital identification clipped to the pocket of his scrub shirt, and walks purposefully out the emergency room door.
There was something he could do to turn the day around. Cas ditches his pristine white lab coat and slams the door of his locker. He’s too worn out from five hours of surgery and a heart-wrenching talk with a man’s grieving family members to bother changing his clothes. It’s the reality of his life as a trauma surgeon, and he’s long ago accepted the fact he’s not God, that he can’t save everyone.
He’s finished his shift at the hospital, where one of his patients lived and the other didn’t. It’s the sort of day that leaves Cas desperate for some reminder that life isn’t all trauma and tragedy.
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