He lied down on the bed and forced himself to sleep, knowing only rest and time would heal his wound. Or he could always ask Dean a favor. He pushed that thought to the recesses of his thoughts and drifted off to slumber.
Morning came slower than Castiel had hoped, but he didn't get up to get Dean breakfast or to wake Dean himself. He lay in the bed occasionally checking his wound, still slowly bleeding. It wasn't healing like he thought it would. Apparently, the stab went deeper than he thought. As much as he resented it, he would have to enlist Dean's assistance in the matter.
Dean yawned and stretched himself awake sometimes around 11. He looked about the awkward layout of the warehouse looking for Castiel. He didn't see him anywhere, and knew he wouldn't be in the bathroom.
"Cas?" Dean called, scanning the ceiling for a repeat of yesterday's events.
"Over here." Cas called in pain from the bed.
"Cas?" Dean repeated as he looked as the crippled figure on the bed.
As he saw Castiel's shirt bloodied, and the small pool of blood underneath him, Dean panicked.
"Are you alright, man? What happened?" Dean asked, trying to sound calm.
"I didn't leave the fight with Michael last night unscathed. I thought resting overnight would heal it like it normally does, but I was hurt so deeply, that I'm afraid that wasn't the scenario." Castiel explained.
"Let me see." Dean ushered.
Castiel removed the thoroughly soaked bloodied rag, which had by now lost it's glow. Dean looked worrisome at the gash in Cas's abdomen.
"We need to get you to a hospital." Dean said.
"No. We can't leave here, Dean." Castiel rejected. "Besides, what would you tell them when they asked how I was alive and talking without a heartbeat?"
Dean gave Cas a doubtful glance and put two fingers on Castiel's neck. He looked concerned and moved his fingers around a little bit. After feeling nothing he picked up Castiel's wrist and repeated.
"Oh that's freaky." Dean stated. "Anyways. About your stomach. What are we going to do if I can't take you to a hospital? I'm sure as hell not going let you die."
"You going to need to do something, that I hate having to make you do." Castiel said.
Dean looked concerned. "Just say it." He said with a sigh.
"Put your right hand over my cut." Castiel instructed. Dean did as followed, disregarding the blood seeping over his fingers and down his hand.
"Now close your eyes and think about one of the happiest moments in your life. Recall all the details and replay it over and over again in your head." Castiel continued.
Dean grinned. "The night Sammy was born." He said quietly. Dean kept his eyes shut, but he could feel his whole body getting warm, especially his hand.
"Cas, what's happening to me? I feel weird." Dean asked.
"Nothing. You're doing great. Keep thinking about Sam." Castiel directed, despite the fact that Dean was getting very bright and warm.
"I have a feeling this is where I won't like it?" Dean asked cautiously.
Castiel sighed heavily. "Yes you are right."
"So. Tell me what I gotta do." Dean said.
"Kiss me." Castiel muttered.
"What?" Dean scowled.
"I don't like it anymore than you do. Just kiss me." Castiel instructed.
"I bet you say that to all the fail-safe switches." Dean mused.
"Just do it." Cas ordered.
Dean pressed his lips against Castiel's, still thinking of Sammy's birthday and felt himself cool down to normal temperature. Once he reached normal body temperature he quickly pulled away from Castiel. He lifted his bloody hand away and saw that Castiel's stomach was back to normal, besides the fact that it was bloody.
"How did I do that?" Dean asked amazed, wiping his hand on his jeans.
He looked to Castiel and saw him looking up at Dean smiling, his eye's almost glowing they were so bright.
"It worked!" Castiel said surprised. "It was a long shot, but it worked!"
"Please don't make me do that again." Dean mumbled, walking off towards the bathroom. "And next time, God help me if there is one, tell me the second you get stabbed, not wait until morning, you dipshit."
Castiel stood up and looked down at his bare stomach. "I should probably go find some clean clothes." He remarked.
"Don't bother. An eye for an eye." Dean said, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to Castiel. "Just wash the blood off you before you put it on. It's my favorite."
Castiel nodded and walked to the bathroom. He emerged and Dean had to laugh. Seeing the lower half of someone be dressy and the top half be a worn AC/DC shirt, was hard not to laugh at.
"You do realize, we can't relay my shirt back and forth everyday for the next few months." Dean said. "You're going to need a new shirt, and I'm going to need some new clothes so I can wash these."
"I'll have Anna, my sister, go shopping and pick us up some clothes tomorrow." Castiel said as he slipped on his suit and tie over the AC/DC shirt.
"Classy." Dean mused.
For the next week or so, Dean and Castiel's days were uneventful. They would goof off, watch TV, play video games (or at least try), and Castiel started teaching Dean some Enochian.
"Practice Writing it out, now." Castiel said, pushing Dean a pen and pad of paper.
Dean scrawled some Enochian script and handed it to Castiel.
'my name is dean winchester'
"Very good, Dean." Castiel said reviewing the writing on the paper.
Dean smiled up and Castiel.
"How about I take you up on baking that pie you asked for a week ago?" Castiel offered.
"Hell yeah." Dean replied jumping of the couch and following Cas to the kitchen-like area.
Castiel conjured all the required ingredients for making an apple pie and washed his hands in the sink.
Dean, not familiar with the ingredients asked Castiel how much flour they needed. Castiel pulled out a set of directions from a recipe book he bought and looked it over. "You're going to need two cups."
Dean quickly dumped the flour in the bowl, causing it to explode into the air and sending white everywhere, but that was fine, since Castiel had gotten used to accidents and messes living with Dean. The two erupted in laughter as their head and faces got coated in white powder.
"Dammit, Cas. You could've warned me about this crap!" Dean said through laughter.
"It's your fault." Castiel stated as Dean rubbed his fingers through his hair trying to comb out the flour.
"Did I get it all out of my hair?" Dean asked, lowering his head so Castiel could examine his hair.
"No you missed some." Cas observed.
"Well, can you get it out?" Dean asked.
"Oh. Sure." Castiel said as specks of white drifted into the air upon removal from Dean's hair.
"There. It's all out." Castiel said rather pleased with himself, a small smile on his face.
Dean stood up and admired the contrast of Castiel's eyes against the white flour on his face. In that moment Dean had the strangest impulse and without thinking he gave into it. One moment his lips were forming a smile, and the next they were colliding with Castiel's, soft from the trace amount of powder on them.
As Dean saw Castiel's surprised look a million thoughts ran through his head.
"I'm going to spend the next three months with him. What if I ruined everything?"
"What if he abandons me because of this and leaves me to fight demons alone?"
"What if he does feel the same way? How will I explain it to my parents?"
Dean drew back from Castiel and looked at him waiting for some sort of reaction, but he didn't react at all. He turned back to the recipe and said, "We need one stick of butter."
Dean fished through the fridge for the butter and finally emerged from the icy depths with one chilled stick. "Here's that."
He handed the cool stick to Castiel, electricity bolting through him when he felt his fingertips faintly touch his own. Castiel began gently stirring in the ingredients, careful not to recreate the mess that just happened.
"Dean, I did not need my grace recharged." Castiel said after a few moments.
"Oh. Sorry. I thought you might have from all this stuff you're making appear out of nowhere." Dean lied, masking his true intentions.
But the truth was that Dean wanted to feel the angel's gentle touch on his skin, and hear his soft laugh when he heard something humorous. He wanted to feel Castiel's fingers running through his hair again, and most of all, Dean wanted to feel Castiel's smooth lips glide in sync with his own.