Sign of the Times
Derek was stumbling down the hallway, bleeding heavily from his shoulder. He was clutching at it tightly; irritated that it wasn’t healing as quickly as normal. His eyes were searching for a place to sit down that wasn’t out in the open, but staying upright was becoming more difficult as time went on.
Silence seemed to be Castiel’s companion for the night as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor made his rounds. It was preferable to catching students in compromising positions or while causing problems.
The sound of movement from around the corner caught the professor’s attention and he peered around the corner to see a student in the middle of the hall, blood dripping onto the stone floor.
“What happened?” The words were out of Castiel’s mouth immediately as he advanced on the teen, gaze locked onto the large wound on his shoulder. “Stop moving, you’re making it worse.” A glance around revealed no seating and with a huff of impatience, the professor waved his wand and summoned a bench. “Take a seat and let me look at it.”










