"Dean you're so goddamn immature, you know that?" Sam practically growled from across the dingy motel room. They'd been at each other's throats for a while now, too much time together stuck in such a small room. It was starting to get to them.
"I'm immature? I'm dying, Sam!"
"You aren't dying, Dean. Get over yourself. It's a freaking cold," Sam rolled his eyes dismissively.
"And I feel like shit. So I'd appreciate it if you got me a water for christ's sake."
"You've been asking me to get stuff for you all day, though. It's stupid. Get up and get it yourself. You're sick, not an invalid."
"And whose fault is it that I'm sick, Sam? Maybe the one who dragged me out into the rain at two in the morning to fix my car that he jammed up on one of his midnight rides? Hm?"
"I take those drives to clear my head! If you haven't noticed, I need some time away from you every once and a while. You drive me crazy!"
"That doesn't mean you have to take my car!"
Sam just stared incredulously at him.
"It's the only car we have!"
His brother was lying across the bed, arms spread wide, and eyes squeezed shut. Yeah, admittedly, he looked pretty sick. But it wasn't Sam's fault his brother didn't bring a jacket. It wasn't Sam's fault he was obsessed over that damn car, insisting on fixing the moment something stalled… even in the pouring rain.
"Fine, then take it a leave if that's what you want so bad. You can do your research at the library or something. I'll manage. I'm only sick."
"Are you sure?" Sam asked, but he already had his jacket on. He had to at least pretend to care, but in all honesty he was ready to get the hell out of there. He didn't want to catch whatever his whiny older brother had. Not at all.
"Just go," Dean half-laughed, "But turn off the lights on the way out, will ya? It's too fucking bright."
The lights flicked off, the door slammed shut, and Dean was alone. Actually, he was alone and seriously regretting the decision to tell Sammy to leave. His throat hurt, his head hurt and, come to think of it, he never got that water Sam promised him. He coughed a few times and sat, debating the decision to get up or not, immediately telling himself not to. It wasn't worth the glass of water if he passed out on the way there.
"Lord help me," He groaned in a scratchy voice.
He didn't think anyone would listen. Well, until he heard the faint rush of air. He knew who made that sound, but it still made him jump to feel the prescience behind where he was laying.
"Goddamn it, Cas. Quit sneaking up on me like that."
Dean expected a cute, ignorant reply from his Angel of a boyfriend like, 'Dean, how many times do I have to tell you not to use our Father's name in vain?' or possibly, 'I did not intend to frighten you, I thought you were calling for me.' But he got no vocal response. Instead, he just felt a cool hand on his forehead.
"Cas what are you-?"
"Shh. I saw it in a film. The little boy was ill so his mother put her and on him like this. I'm not sure if I can heal this, Dean. I wish I could but I am not acquainted with human illnesses. If I could just-" Stress seeped into Castiel's voice. He was talking too fast for his deep voice and mixed with Dean's headace, he could hardly make out what Cas was saying.
"It's fine, man. Chill out."
"Don't call me 'man'" Cas snapped, "I'm not a man. I'm an angel. And no, I will not 'chill out' I do not even understand how that phrase came to be. You would think warmth to be more soothing than chills. Besides, why would I prefer to be more comfortable when you are obviously in pain?"
"I'm not in that much pain, okay? You make it sound like I'm on my death bed," Dean was just starting to be able to see the figure of his boyfriend through the darkness of the room.
"That's what you told your brother."
"That's because I wanted my brother to get me water."
Before Dean could blink, his company was gone out of thin air. Not ten seconds later, Castiel was back, a glass of water in hand, "Here," He said simply, extending the drink out. Dean could sense just the slightest bit of tension hovering over them.
"You okay?" He raised an eyebrow worriedly.
"I feel as though I should be asking you that question."
"Well are you?" Dean pressed.
"Fine I just- fine."
"Something is making me not want to believe you."
"I wouldn't lie to you Dean." The amount of sincerity in his voice almost made Dean drop the subject. Almost.
"Then stop 'withholding information'. It's the same thing as lying, babe."
Cas sighed, knowing Dean had just used his weak spot against him. Silly human pet names made him… happy. He thought they were cute, bringing little butterflies into his stomach. Babe, sweets, love…
"I'm just… worried." He admitted sheepishly.
"About?"
"I don't like to see you unwell, Dean." Seriousness etched in his face. When was Cas not serious?
"It's not so bad, Cas. I'm fine. Hell, I'm sure I look ridiculously funny." He scoffed, he could practically feel the bags under his eyes and bright red nose.
"There is nothing funny about it," He insisted.
"I'm fine." Dean repeated, ignoring the worried little angel.
There was a slight pause as Cas looked him over again, like he was trying to decide something. Then, without asking, he crawled into the bed next to his boyfriend, an innocent yet puzzled expression on his face.
"What are you doing?" Dean laughed
"Isn't this what human couples do? They lay down together to sleep, not just intercourse. I was not going to watch over you in Sam's bed, what if he came back?"
"What if he comes back to us in a bed together?"
Not that Dean was complaining. Cuddling wasn't something how was going to admit to enjoying anytime soon, but he was sick, and this was Castiel in his bed…
"Your brother is informed of our relationship."
"Yeah, but he might not want to see us in the same bed." Dean couldn't help but let his mind wander just a little bit. Cas didn't catch on.
"But what's wrong with sleeping?" Cas's eyebrows furrowed.
"I was kidding about- never mind." Dean just laughed.
"I don't know what's so humorous."
"You, Cas. You're always so serious and you don't always understand human terms it's just… funny."
"Glad to amuse you." Cas rolled his eyes, making Dean laugh harder. But the laughs turned into a violent coughing fit, and Dean could hardly breathe through the wheezing in his lungs.
"Dean? Dean?" He could hear Castiel panicking, the subsided worry from earlier strong in his voice, "Are you okay?"
"Just dandy," Dean swallowed, calming himself down, "I'm hacking up my freaking lung."
"Then we need to get you to a doctor!" Cas exclaimed, pushing himself off the bed, "Dean, those are vital organs!"
"No-no I meant… it's an expression. I'm fine. No doctors." Dean insisted, realizing Castiel probably thought he was actually hacking up one of his lungs. As if on cue, he coughed again.
"Dammit, Sam shouldn't have left you here alone," he heard Cas grumble to himself, "Selfish, immature…"
"Woah, calm down. Sammy just needed some air. He's sick of me."
"Well you're actually sick. You can't just leave someone so unwell alone. Especially a Winchester. Can't handle themselves, you people."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you don't do anything to help yourselves. You're stubborn and hell-bent on being 'fine' when you aren't and you probably told Sam you were fine, and Sam probably thinks you're fine but you are not by any means fine."
"But I am."
"But you're not."
"Am too."
"Are you really going to start such an immature, childish game of 'are too's and 'am not's?"
"Funny. Sam called me immature right before he left," Dean snapped, sitting up to look at Cas who was standing beside he bed now. He knew those words would hit just a little bit hard.
"I wouldn't leave you, Dean."
"I know," He softened just a bit at Castiel's expression.
"My intentions are only to help, you know. You don't have to be rude about it," The angel continued to speak, making Dean feel just a bit more guilty.
"I'm sorry." Dean looked at the dingy sheets he was laying in, avoiding eye contact. He really did turn into an immature, rude little kid when he was sick.
"Don't be," Cas huffed, surrendering, "I understand. You're poorly, and entitled to some sympathy, not some dick yelling at you."
"Did you just call yourself a dick?" Dean's mouth twitched slightly, a smile starting to flicker on his face.
"I believe I did."
They stared at each other through the dark again, before Dean gave in.
"Alright, get back here next to me you stupid little ass. I'm freezing."
"Could that be a sign of fever?"
"I don't know, and I don't care. Just get back here 'nd lay with me." He demanded, letting out a sneeze.
"But if you're feverish-"
"What did I tell you about being too over protective and worried all the time? I'll be fine. Just come here already, will ya?"
Dean assumed Cas had nodded a silent reply, because he closed his eyes and the next thing he knew, Cas was curled up by his side.
"Better?" He asked.
"Better." Dean replied. It was like he could breathe just a little bit better.
"You sure you don't need anything?"
"Positive. Don't even think 'bout moving." he rasped.
"You sound like hell."
"Feel like it too."
"Then rest, Dean. Your body needs rest to start recovery."
"And what will you do while I'm out, then?" Dean's eyes were already closed, sleep slwly seeping into his achy bones.
"Watch over you, of course."
There was silence between them and Cas spoke again,
"Well that, and leave Sam an angry voicemail."
Dean laughed weakly before letting his consciousness go. His rest was peaceful and he could almost hear his mother whispering in his ear, Sleep tight Dean, Angels are watching over you.
And how true his mother had been.
What'd ya think? I'm a softie for destiel *giggle*
