Dean Winchester was sick. Sicker than sick- he hadn't gotten the stomach flu since he was twelve years old, and everything was the same, the vomit, the fatigue, the aching body and stuffy nose. Bottom line, the flu was the pits.

Dean emptied the contents of his stomach into the tiny motel toilet, which stunk of urine, beer, and barf. He rested his head on the cool porcelain, panting, wiping his mouth and dragging himself up. Sam was out on a case, hunting a vengeful spirit that was hiding under beds and grabbing at the feet of the inhabitants. He'd left Cas behind to make sure Dean was alright, that he wouldn't start choking up blood instead of last night's spaghetti.

"Dean...?" There was a knock on the door, accompanied by a concerned gravelly voice. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm fine, Cas, Jeez. Go back to bed." Dean, catching his breath, opened the door, pushing the ex-angel aside. He fell into his bed, curling up in a cold, feverish sweat under the blankets.

"If you say so." Castiel retreated back to the couch, sulking in his little nest of pillows, looking narrow-eyed up at Dean. Hours passed, hours of neither of them sleeping, Dean coughing and Castiel looking concerned.

"Cas?" Dean croaked. It was three AM. "Cas, I need water." His throat was on fire. His voice was rough and scratchy, like the sandpaper one might find in a workman's shed. He tried to breathe in through his nose, but failed, his sinuses too clogged to work correctly.

Cas jumped up, wearing one of Sam's shirts and a pair of Dean's sweatpants. The shirt was three sizes too big and smelled like spices. He had yet to go shopping for his own wardrobe, stealing from the boys' luggage when he felt the need to change. He quickly walked to the sink, filling up a paper cup with lukewarm water. He brought it to Dean's bed, gingerly perching on the spot beside his friend. He helped him sit up, bringing the cup to his lips. Dean gasped and coughed, spilling the water down the sides of his face. Half asleep, Dean slumped down into Cas's arms, wracking coughs shaking his body.

Cas furrowed his brow, not knowing what to do as Dean nuzzled into him. He awkwardly leaned in, patting Dean on the back with one hand, drawing him closer. He made soothing noises and ran his fingers through Dean's hair as Dean hacked specks of blood onto Castiel's grey tee. "Dean, I'm going to the store to get you some things to make you feel better. Sam gave me a list," he mumbled.

"Okay," Dean sighed.

Painkillers, said the list.

Cas squinted, peering quizzically at the piece of paper in his hand. Which one? There were so many to choose from. Advil, Tylenol, Ibuprofen, Aleve… He sighed, exasperated. Why can't there just be one? He knocked a bottle of Tylenol into the shopping cart, and continued down the isle, glad that it was so early in the morning so he didn't have to interact with many people.

Tea.

There were even more teas than painkillers. Castiel did not like shopping. Too many options. He finally was able to choose two, a Stomach Ease tea and a Throat Comfort tea. Comfort and ease, two things Dean desperately needed.

Mac and Cheese. Ice Cream. Hand Sanitizer. Those were easy.

Hot water bottle. What? Why would Dean want that? He could just heat up some water back at the motel. But it was on the list, so he must need it. He picked up a bottle of Poland Spring and put it in the cart. He would put it in the microwave back at home.

He frowned. Sam had forgotten the pie, again. He wheeled the cart towards the dessert isle, looking at the piles and piles of pies. There were three kinds, apple, cherry, and blueberry. Dean decided to get all three, because a pie-filled Dean was a happy Dean.

He handed the lady at the cash register Sam's credit card, a grim look on his face. "That is mine," he said. He needed the lady to know he hadn't stolen it from Sam. "I did not steal that."

The woman looked at him warily. "Yeah… okay."

"It's not Sam's. It is mine."

"I get that. Look, just take your groceries and go. Please. It's been a long night."

Cas nodded curtly and began the short walk home. Although he was proud of his purchases, he did so hate shopping- so tedious. If he still had his angelic abilities he could simply heal Dean. He sighed.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean reached over to flick on the light. "Finally," he rasped.

"I got you… some things." Castiel dumped the contents of the plastic bags onto the bed. "One thing I do not understand, though," Cas tilted his head. "Why did Sam want me to get a bottle of water and heat it up?"

"What? Give me that," Dean coughed, grabbing the list from Cas's hand. "That says hot water bottle, dumbass. Not hot bottle of water."

"I don't understand."

"It's- you put it on your head- never mind- IS THAT PIE?"

"Yes. I wasn't sure what kind to get you, so I got all three."

"And Ice cream? I love you, man!" Dean's eyes lit up as he surveyed the items on the bed.

Cas blushed and looked down at his hands. "I- I love you too, Dean."

Dean raised his eyebrows, and looked at the fallen angel, blinking. "Haha, okay, sure. Heat up the Mac and Cheese and turn on the TV. And get some spoons for the desserts! We're watching a movie."

Cas did. And while he was at it, he stuck the water bottle in the microwave, just in case Dean needed it. He settled down on the bed with Dean, who seemed to be feeling a bit better. The movie was a remake of Romeo and Juliet, and Cas was intrigued. He remembered when this play was written. He'd secretly watched it a few times, looking down from above or through the eyes of another. In this version, Juliet, dressed in an angel costume, leaned over and kissed Romeo, posing as a knight. Cas swallowed, and looked over at Dean, who was trying to look manly and bored but had tears in his eyes. The Angel and the Knight, it was perfect.

Cas pulled Dean in suddenly and kissed him, mouth full of pie and ice cream. Dean was shocked, but kissed him back. "What… was that?" Dean cleared his throat, smiling nervously.

Castiel blushed furiously. "I was playing Juliet."

Dean kissed his forehead. "I'll get you sick, Juliet," he laughed. "I'll poison you. And then we'll both be sick and out of pie."

"A pair of star-crossed lovers take their lives," quoted Castiel, leaning into his Romeo.