Cas let out another rough, raspy cough. Reaching for a tissue, he let out an exasperated sigh. He blew his nose and hunched into himself on the couch, making sure every inch of his body was covered in the blanket Dean had given him.
It was the third day of this terrible sickness.
It started off with a constant headache that lasted for a week before it was clear he was sick. His head was endlessly pounding until he told Dean there was something wrong. Dean had brushed it off as nothing and handed him a bottle of Tylenol. He suddenly felt worn out all the time and his muscles ached. Although they had not been hunting in a while, he felt like he sometimes did when they arrived home after exorcisms or burning corpses. His eyes could barely stay open when four nights ago, he and the Winchesters had gone to their favourite diner for dinner. Dean had asked him what was wrong, his voice thickened with worry. He insisted he was just tired.
That night when they got back home, he headed straight to bed, ready to fall asleep instantly. Dean stayed awake watching TV with his brother and only joined him later on. But he was still awake when Dean quietly laid next to him. A few minutes later, Dean's breath was uneven; he was fast asleep.
Cas shifted endlessly. He felt overwhelmingly warm. He tossed the blankets aside and forcefully shut his eyes, trying to make himself sleep. He tried what Dean called "sleepy thoughts" which meant he could not think anything that could excite his brain. He pictured a slow-flowing river in a scenic, peaceful piece of land.
He felt himself slowly lose sense of consciousness, until his eyes darted awake and his teeth chattered. He was freezing cold. He reached for the blankets, but still his feet felt like ice. His eyes watered as he wondered what was wrong with him. In the darkness of the room, he could see the serenity of Dean's night. He was untroubled and far, far away in his dreams. He remembered when he could get into Dean's dreams. He remembered when he didn't need the sleep he was craving so much right now.
Cas moved closer to Dean, snuggling his face into Dean's bare chest to get some warmth. Dean was very warm. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's torso and pressed his body into Dean's. Dean instinctively responded to Cas' position, his arms wrapping around Cas, pinning him to his chiselled chest. Cas felt more at peace now that he was cuddled with Dean, a few minutes passed before he drifted off to sleep.
"Cas?! Cas, wake up!" Dean's anxious whisper stirred him back to consciousness. He felt cold once more. His entire body shivered. He opened his eyes to find Dean had turned the light on and was now sitting next to him, his eyes clouded with concern.
"What's wrong?" Cas mumbled. He felt drained of any energy he had before.
"You tell me! I woke up attached to the Human Torch", Dean exclaimed. Cas narrowed his eyes in confusion. "You know, Fantas-. Never mind. Cas, you're heated up. Your temperature's probably at 102, man." Dean's hand caressed Cas' face.
Cas felt too weak to respond. His throat felt dry and his head was pounding.
"I think I'm sick" he managed to croak.
"How do you feel?" Dean asked, reaching for a glass of water and handing it to Cas, who gingerly accepted, his hands still shaking. He took a big gulp before answering.
"My head is sore. My throat feels too parched. I have aching muscles and I'm tired and sleepy. I'm very cold too".
Dean was quiet for a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
"You're about to have the most uncomfortable week" He finally said. His face was now tender exposing the pity he felt for his boyfriend. "You've got the flu", he took Cas' shaking hands into his. "You'll be alright, I'll take care of you".
Dean had done just that. If he hadn't been so ill, Cas would have been glowing over the attention and care Dean was showing him. The morning after that night, Dean had left for the grocery store, leaving Sam with instructions to watch over Cas.
"You know by the time you get better, you'll be forcing Dean to do something other than worry about you" Sam had warned Cas. "I'm telling you, he will fuss over you every second." Cas had only managed to smile. Anything else was too much effort.
Sam was right and wrong at the same time. Dean had indeed fussed over Cas, but Cas genuinely appreciated it. He had returned from the grocery store arms full of the shopping he had done. He had insisted Cas move to the lounge where he sat slumped on the couch with a blanket covering him.
Dean constantly brought Cas orange juice, refilling his glass whenever he saw it was empty. Cas' diet now consisted of different types of soup, all prepared by Dean, cough drops and throat lozenges. Sam, remembering his own sickness from the time he was doing the trials, had avoided being around Cas too much in case he was too contagious.
But despite his change in diet, his inactivity and Dean pressing a warm cloth on his forehead at random times, Cas only felt worse.
"Chicken soup!" Dean announced as he approached Cas, breaking him from his daydream. He was carrying a bowl of soup with one hand and a carton of orange juice in the other. He placed them both on the small table in front of Cas. Cas sighed once more.
"I know you feel like crap right now, but you gotta eat. Keep your strength up" Dean's tone was gently and pleading.
"I don't have any strength to keep up" Cas grumbled. He was miserable and impatient. He just wanted to stop feeling like his body was shutting down.
"If you don't eat this soup, I'll only feed it to you" Dean said. He chuckled when Cas narrowed his eyes at him. Cas weakly reached for a spoonful of soup and cautiously brought it into his mouth.
"Happy?" he murmured. Dean laughed again. He stood up, softly ruffled Cas' hair and headed towards the kitchen.
Cas dropped the spoon back in the bowl and rested his head back on the couch. This was the first time he had truly despised being human. There were times of insecurity when he had thought he meant less to Dean, but Dean had assured him that wasn't the case. Dean claimed what he was didn't matter to him, only who he was. He had joked that it was even better now that he didn't have his wings so he wouldn't be disappearing off.
Being human had not been bad at all. He enjoyed eating, particularly cheese burgers made by Dean and he loved to sleep, especially if he was sleeping to escape the guilt that sometimes threatened to engulf him. His emotions were heightened, so he could truly appreciate not just Dean, but Sam too, for everything they did for him. One of his favourite improvements was the sensitivity. He adored being able to thoroughly feel Dean's touch. Whenever Dean's velvety lips met his, and he felt Dean's warm breath travel from his mouth to every part of his body, he thought he had never really lived. This was clarified every time they had sex, which for a while was every day, even more than once a day, as they both had pent up their feelings for each other for a while, those moments felt beyond divine.
"You're not eating" Dean observed. Cas snapped his head up, his eyes travelling all over Dean's body, lingering on some places.
"Don't even think about it." Dean, reading Cas' thoughts, said. He smirked and walked over to sit beside Cas. He reached for the bowl and stirred the soup.
"What are you doing?" Cas asked, suspiciously. He squinted at Dean his mouth pressed into a thin line. Dean beamed at him.
"Open up" he uttered, a spoonful of soup raised towards Cas' mouth. Cas looked at the spoon then back at Dean, who was still grinning. He shook his head and turned away from him.
"Come on, Cas. Just humour me for a sec" Dean pleaded. Cas refused to look at him, because he knew he would give in.
"You're not going to get better if you don't eat" Dean stated, but this time he sounded exhausted. Cas suddenly felt guilty. Dean had been looking after him for four days now. He barely slept, as he constantly woke up to place the warm cloth on Cas' forehead. Of course he would be tired.
Cas turned to him and opened his mouth. Dean's face was lit up, his eyes bright with amusement. He lifted the spoon gently into Cas' mouth. Cas swallowed before Dean's guffaw filled the entire room. Cas took the spoon from Dean and started eating his soup before Dean could feed him again. He was happy to watch Dean laugh. Dean gasped for air in between his laughter, his eyes tearing up.
His laughter eventually died out and he looked up at Cas. He shook his head to some thought he had and smiled. Cas just watched him as he ate his soup.
He just wanted to get better. And he knew he would too. Because Dean would make sure of it. He would repair him without complaint but with a lot of comical acts and wit, just like he had after he had fallen.