The idea for this wee story just popped into my head today and it has been eating away at me ever since so ^_^
You Really Are a Baby
*cough*
*cough* *cough*
*sneeze*
Dean looked in the rear-view mirror.
"Cas..." He said, studying the fallen angel's ashen skin and watery eyes, "You don't look so good man...Sammy?"
Sam twisted in his seat, getting a proper look at Castiel.
"He looks fine, Dean, just keep driving," Sam dismissed.
"I'm fine," Castiel declared authoritatively, though his voice cracked a little.
Dean glanced at him again, as small crease of worry forming on his forehead.
"Yeah...sure you are. Look, just settle down and catch some shut-eye, I'll wake you when we get back to the bunker."
Castiel's eyes met his in the rear-view mirror, perplexed at Dean's strange phrase. He cocked his head to one side. Dean groaned internally.
"It means sleep, Cas."
Realization washed over the sickly-looking features, before disappearing from Dean's sight. Castiel lay down as best he could on the narrow back seat and was soon fast asleep.
The Impala drew to a halt, the shudder of the brakes jolting Castiel awake. He lay there silently for a few moments, composing himself. His head was aching badly. It hadn't been hurting before he'd fallen asleep. Hm. Maybe it was an after-effect. He tried to clear his throat, coughing slightly, but soon discovering that that too hurt. He then attempted to draw in a deep breath through his nose to no avail. Huh. Curious. He stretched gingerly, wondering if this movement would also cause him pain, and as he'd expected a dull ache radiated through his muscles.
"Cas? You alive? C'mon, we're here," Dean said softly, opening the door nearest Castiel's head.
Castiel stirred himself, and got out of the car, half-expecting to collapse the moment he stood up. The effect standing up had on him was overwhelming. He felt a strange pressure behind his eyes, and he was quite suddenly very light-headed. He gripped the car tightly. Dean grasped his arm.
"I knew you weren't okay," he grumbled, pulling the ex-angel along behind him."
"Dean I-" Castiel coughed. His voice wasn't working properly. It was scratchy and dry sounding. He tried to clear his throat.
"Cas stop that, you'll make it worse," Dean chided.
"Sammy?" Dean called out, as he and Castiel entered the main hall of the bunker. Sam was already sitting down, typing away on his computer.
"Sam, Cas is really sick, man-"
"I'm standing right here you kn-"
"And I need you to go on a supply run for him."
Sam shot a look at Dean that said "Why don't you go"
"Okay then Sammy, if you want to be like that...are you gonna get him into a bath and into bed?"
Sam's eyes widened, and he shot out of his chair.
"Car keys, now."
Dean chuckled, dropping the keys into Sam's hand, watching him make a quick escape.
"Right. You," he wheeled around to face Castiel,"Come with me."
He grasped Castiel's arm again, leading him to the bathroom. He pushed the smaller man down to sit on the toilet seat, and then began filling the bath. He perused the various bubble baths Sam had purchased a while back, reading each colored bottle before settling on a dark blue one that promised "Relaxation and a peaceful night's sleep"
Emptying a quarter of the bottle under the hot faucet, he turned to Castiel.
"Now, strip."
Castiel's cheeks flushed.
"There's no need to be bashful, we're all dudes here, Cas."
Castiel looked at him sheepishly.
"If I turn around will it make you feel better?"
Dean turned his back on the embarrassed man-child. He soon heard the familiar rustle of clothes being dropped to the floor. Dean shut off the water, testing the temperature with his fingers.
"Dean is this really necessary?"
"Cas, I practically raised Sam, I know what you have to do when a kid is sick okay?"
"But Dean, I am not a child."
"Do you know how to take care of a human properly?"
"I-"
"Do you?"
Castiel looked down at his toes.
"No," he admitted, defeated.
"See? So, for all intents and purposes, you are now a child, and I will take care of you, okay?"
Castiel remained silent. The hunter was now facing him. Castiel's face burned red.
"I don't know what you're so embarrassed about, be proud of your junk!" Dean grinned a goofy smile. He took Castiel's hand, pulling him towards the bathtub.
"Go on, in you get."
Cas dipped a foot into the water warily.
"Cas we haven't got all night, get in the damn tub already!"
He sighed, stepping into the hot water completely and sitting down. He was more at ease when the white suds covered him.
"Is the water warm enough?"
"Mmmhm" Castiel murmured.
Dean sat on the edge of the tub. He surveyed the various hair products around the tub, deciding his own shampoo would have to do. He didn't want to use any of Sam's girl shampoo and face a bitchfit from him over it.
"Cas I gotta wash your hair now, alright? I need you to duck your head under the water first."
Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean, but complied anyway. He came to the surface.
"Dean! Dean, my eyes, they sting!"
"Did you not close your eyes!?"
"You didn't tell me to!"
Dean let out a tired sigh. This was going to be a lot of work.
"Here," Dean thrust a towel at Cas, bending down to removed the plug from the drain.
Castiel raised himself from the now murky water, wrapping the towel around himself and stepping out onto the cold tiled floor. He followed Dean out of the bathroom, shivering at the cold air of the hallway hit him.
"Dean, I got your stuff," said Sam, approaching from behind. Castiel felt embarrassed, shivering in the hallway, shrouded in nothing but a towel. Dean took the bag of supplies from Sam, thanking him, and leading Cas to..-to his own bedroom.
"I think it's best we keep you in my room, it's the warmest room in the place, and the mattress is memory foam, it remembers you," Dean smirked.
Castiel just looked at him.
"Okaaaay tough crowd," he opened his wardrobe, rifling through the clothes,"Here, put these on."
He handed Cas a pair of sweatpants. Castiel put the pants on.
"No shirt?"
"No, you won't be needing it, or wanting it, trust me," Dean's eyes widened as he realized what he had just said,"I mean..."
He searched through the bag of goods, finding a small blue container.
"You won't want a shirt on with this all over you, it's sticky-I mean..-" Dean cursed himself silently,"This stuff will clear your sinuses, you'll be able to breath through your nose again."
Castiel stood awkwardly in the center of the room, unsure of what to do now. Dean drew back the covers of the bed.
"Get in."
He did as he was told, settling down onto the comfortable mattress. Dean sat next to him on the edge of the bed, unscrewing the lid of the little container. He scooped some of the contents onto his fingers. He reached out, but Castiel caught his wrist.
"What are you doing, what is that?"
"It's vapor rub...I need to rub it onto your chest and back so you can breathe properly."
Cas released his wrist. Dean began to smooth the strange paste onto his skin, rubbing in circular motions across his chest. Castiel found it to be very relaxing and somehow arousing in a way, although he fought that. After a few minutes, Dean commanded him to sit up and lean forward.
Castiel tried, but found it painful.
"Dean," he whispered,"It hurts..."
"Here,"said Dean,"lean forward more, lean against my shoulder.
Castiel buried his face in Dean's shoulder, as Dean rubbed the strong-smelling gloop onto his back now. He sighed, breathing in Dean's scent. He felt himself drifting off to sleep.
"Cas...?"
Dean held his shoulders and pushed him forward gently. Castiel looked up at him, his blue eyes sleepy.
"Hello Dean."
"His Cas," Dean breathed.
Castiel let a small smile creep up on his lips. Dean mirrored him.
"Dean?"
"Yeah?"
Castiel leaned forward again, making Dean embrace him. Cas rested his head against Dean's chest, listening to the steady rhythmic beating of his heart.
"Thank you," Castiel murmured.
Dean was perplexed.
"For what?" he asked, amused.
"For..well...for everything really...thank you for taking care of me, thank you for being you...thank you for existing, Dean,-"
"Cas?" Dean interrupted.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up," Dean smiled, taking Castiel's face in his hands and claiming his lips with his own.
He may have not felt very well, but Castiel decided that he liked being sick.