Title: You're The One I Need
Disclaimer: I don't not own Supernatural or any of the characters.
Pairing/Characters: Sam, Dean/Castiel eventually
Rating: M
Summary: Dean is sick and while Sam is out Castiel drops by. Castiel tries to heal Dean and fails.
Notes: More will be added soon.
Dean sighs as the coldness spreads from the damp washcloth on his forehead down through his face and neck, offering a relief from the burning. It's always been his opinion that being sick is the worst.
"This sucks!" Dean groans angrily for about the hundredth time.
Sam just sighs and replaces the washcloth with a fresh one, offering some more relief. Dean's been like this for days, consistently refusing to see a doctor. Apparently flying isn't the only fear Sam didn't know about. Sam had been beyond relief when Deans temperature had lowered a few degrees, to Dean it doesn't feel any different. His head still feels like it's been run over by a truck, which then reversed over his throat. He can't even breathe through his nose because it's too blocked. Each breath scrapes over his sore throat in an agonising way. He can't remember the last time he was sick, probably when he was little.
Sam turns back towards the TV, watching whatever horrible day time show is on. Dean tries to move into a seated position, hoping to stare at something other than the ceiling for once. As soon as he moves he starts to feel dizzy and he can see the striped wallpaper moving from side to side in a sickening way. Not so sure moving is a good idea he falls back into the pillows, letting out a sigh that burns. Looking up at the ceiling he starts to count the dots even though he already knows exactly how many there are; 325. He can hear the murmurings from the TV, nothing of value. A daytime soap. He starts to get sleepy at around 112 dots and by 114 his eyes are closed.
He wakes some time later, the sun shining through the windows replaced by stars. He tries once again to sit, glad when he doesn't experience any head spinning. He spots Sam spread out on the other bed, deep in sleep. Sleep well Sammy, he thinks. He knows he would be pretty much screwed without Sam. His fear of doctors would stop him from getting medical help and he would end up just laying here until he died. Sam had even used his fake medical badge to get some medicine for him.
Deans mouth is full of a horrible taste as he tries to stand and get some water. He feels slightly better after the drink, but the horrible taste is still there. He pops a grape flavoured throat lozenge in as he moves towards the couch, watching the late night movie. It doesn't take him long to drift off again.
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He wakes to the feeling of cold relief once again. Sam must have woken up. He opens his eyes slowly, squinting at the bright light, to see Sam sitting next to him, looking worried.
"Hey" Sam's voice is soft, but it has an underlying tone of anxiety. Dean hopes he doesn't look that bad.
"How are you feeling?"
"Well, crap" Dean doesn't feel like elaborating. He's been feeling like crap for days.
Sam replies with a grimace before saying "I have to go out for a little while. You need more medicine"
"I'll be fine, Sam" Dean rolls his eyes "I'll just watch some of this fantastic day time TV while you're gone" Even sick Dean loves to use sarcasm.
"Alright. I'll be back soon" Sam's gone within the minute, leaving Dean with nothing to do but actually watch TV. He flicks through the channels, trying to find something remotely interesting when he stumbles upon a documentary about an ancient tribe in Africa. He decides it's more interesting than a drama.
Before long he hears a knock on the door. "It's open" He calls out in the loudest voice he can manage, which makes his throat start to hurt all over again. He was pretty sure he hadn't heard Sam lock the door, but they didn't exactly have any friends here. He looks up as the door opens, surprised to see Castiel standing there. After closing the door behind him he moves towards Dean.
"Hi" Dean greets him.
"Something's different about you" As always, he doesn't even get a 'hello'.
"I'm sick" Dean explains, noticing that Castiels face gets slightly more confused looking.
"I have a cold. I'm ill. Fever, sore throat, etc." Dean continues, trying to make the angel understand.
Castiel simply moves towards him and raises his hand to Dean's forehead, closing his eyes as he places it there. Dean isn't sure what's going on, he's only seen Castiel do this when he was exorcising demons, or knocking people out. When Castiel takes his hand away and opens his eyes he appears even more puzzled.
"huh" is the only thing he says.
"Explanation, please?" Dean raises his eyebrows while he talks, moving over so Castiel can sit.
"Usually that heals. Something must be different about this cold of yours" Dean isn't sure how to feel; he has a freak cold that not even an angel can get rid of. At least he didn't waste time going to the doctors.
"So... why are you here?" Dean finally asks.
"Another problem with the seals. You don't appear to be in any condition to do anything though" Castiel turns towards the TV "What are these humans doing?" he asks as the documentary shows the tribe making a canoe.
"They would be making a canoe" Dean puts the washcloth back on his forehead and lays back. He can only just see Castiel looking at him. Dean is suddenly attacked by a coughing fit, so bad he has to keel over. When it ends Castiel hands him a glass of water in a surprisingly human gesture.
"Thanks" Dean manages after he chokes down the water.
He gets a simple nod in return.
Dean picks up a clean washcloth and places it on his throat, which aches from the coughing. He lays back once again, this time closing his eyes. When Castiel removes the washcloth and replaces it with his hand, giving Dean no warning, it scares the shit out of him, making his eyes suddenly pop open.
Castiel sighs and places the washcloth back on Dean's neck before he sits.
"Trying that healing thing again?" Dean has to ask.
"Yes"
Dean was surprised by how nice Castiels hand had felt against his neck, much better than the washcloth. This is just weird, Dean tries to shake the thoughts from his mind, but he only manages to make his headache worse.
.....
