Disclaimer: Not my boys, just my story.
A cold for the fallen
It had been four months since Castiel had fallen. He was still adjusting to the ways of human life; it had its many challenges. Castiel had only recently gotten the hang of sleeping. He was still having trouble distinguishing when he was cold, it was only when they were sitting on the couch and Castiel was shivering that Dean wrapped a blanket around him.
It was mid-december, Dean was in the shower and Sam had gone out to get dinner. Castiel was sitting at the table, he was getting impatient. Looking out the window, Castiel saw white flakes fall from the sky. He stared in awe at the beauty then moved outside to get a better look at the white dust. He walked to the clearing behind the motel and held his hand out; inviting. A piece of white landed on the tip of his index finger. He slowly brought it up to his face and examined it. It sparkled under the sliver of sun still left in the sky; it had criss-crossing lines creating kaleidoscope shapes and patterns. Then it vanished, disappearing from his view like an eclipse. He blinked, about to turn around when another drifted to his palm. Looking closely, he saw this one was different. Once again, it dematerialized; water in its wake. He walked further into the underbrush catching more in his outstretched arms. Every time it was unique to the other, he stared in awe before smiling. Looking up to the darkened sky it trapped his nose under microscopic cold. It left Castiel wondering how something so simple could make someone marvel at its complexity.
He was sitting on the ground catching more of the mysterious white flakes when he faintly heard someone calling his name. He turned slightly but other wise continued his catching. "Cas!" Turning around fully he saw a figure emerge from the trees. "Cas." Dean said it more calmly, relaxing after finding his boyfriend. Dean kneeled in front of him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" He searched his eyes, "What are you doing out here?" Castiel smiled slightly, he reached for Dean's hand and held it palm up. "Look." Castiel brought his hand to Dean's face and made him look. "It's the falling dust." Dean gave a small chuckle before looking at Castiel. "Their snowflakes." Castiel smiled at the word before he sneezed. He blinked, the sneezed again. "Lets catch snowflakes." But Dean shook his head, "That's not what needs to happen right now." A confused expression lit Castiel's features. "What needs to happen?" Dean moved his hand down his angels arm. "You're shivering Cas, and your sneezing. You've got a cold." Castiel tilted his head, "Why do I have a cold?" Dean slid the thick jacket off his back and wrapped it around Castiel's shoulders. "Because you've been out here for two hours sitting in the snow. You're soaked." Castiel only then realized he was wet and be began violently shaking. Dean pulled him up and rubbed his arms, trying to warm him. When they got back to the hotel Castiel noted that Sam's presence was absent. "Come here." Dean helped Castiel out his drenched clothes. He then ran a hot bath and led Castiel to it. "You stay here, I'm going to go get some stuff. Don't leave the motel room okay? I don't want you to get more sick."
When Dean came back the bathroom door was shut and the light was still on. Dean looked at the clock and realized he'd been gone for about 15 minutes. "Cas, I'm back." He called, then dropped the bags onto the counter and emptied the contents. He realized Castiel hadn't answered him. "Cas?" Again there wasn't a response. He quickly hurried into the bathroom to find Castiel asleep in the tub. He ran to him and woke him up. Castiel groggily opened his eyes, face to face with Dean. "Cas," he got him out and dried him off. Shudders still absently raking the former angels body, "you can't sleep in here. You could fall in and drown!" Castiel looked down at his feet, "Oh." Dean sighed at his kicked-puppy look and tilted the former angel's chin, "It's okay Cas, just be more careful." After Castiel was dressed in flannel shirt and pants Dean led him to one of the two beds; then he walked back to the kitchen. "What are you doing, Dean?" He took out a stove pot and soup mix. He added water, then noodles, and pieces of chicken. He worked with Castiel lazily staring after him. When he was finished a bowl was brought to Castiel. Dean also had a long stick in his left hand. Castiel was about to ask what it was when it was placed in his mouth. "Keep this under you tongue, don't move it okay?" Castiel nodded, Dean took to his watch. After two minutes, Dean removed the stick. Observing the device, Dean set it back on the nightstand. "You have a fever." He concluded. Castiel did not know how a stick could possibly know such a thing, but he didn't question Dean. He handed Castiel the bowl and spoon. "What is this?" Dean smiled, "Chicken-noodle soup. My mom used to make it for me when I was a kid if I was sick." Castiel pondered this, then took to the soup. The soup calmed him; and when he was finished he was tired and warm. Castiel stifled a yawn and Dean took the bowl to the sink. When he came back, Dean removed his shoes and climbed into the bed next to Castiel. His angel curled over to him an rested his head on Dean's chest. The hunter ran a smooth hand through Castiel's hair. He sneezed again and Castiel's body went tense under Dean's fingertips. He started rubbing small circles on his back to calm him. Castiel slowly began relaxing against his hunter, Dean gave a breathy whisper in his ear. "Don't worry baby, I've got you." Castiel smiled before sleep enveloped him, casting nets of peaceful pictures in his mind humans call dreams.
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