If it were up to Dean, he'd be perfectly happy subsisting solely on beer, burgers, coffee, and pie (and it would be a great life, thanks; screw health).
An unfortunate number of people disagreed, however, and seemed to think that such inferior foods as rabbit (cow?) food like salads and vegan bacon were better than actual human food, which he couldn't understand at all. He went along with it for Sammy - sometimes, at least, when they had the supplies for it - and considered the one good thing about his kid brother leaving for college that at least he could eat actual meat without earning a trademark Sam Winchester bitchface… And then, of course, Cas came along with his damn Dean-must-be-healthy crusade and that plan went out the window.
Which was about how he found himself learning to make orange chicken in their tiny ass kitchen, bowls spread across the counter - not that the mess bothered him at all, of course - and his laptop perched unevenly on the coffee machine. He'd just finished his sixth - sixth, Cas, sixth - readthrough of the instructions - because this is ridiculous, Cas - when Cas - not helpful, Cas, I'm trying to focus here - interrupted from the other room. "Uh… Dean?"
Not that Dean was at all stressed or anything, but he was very much contemplating throwing his computer across the room. "Yeah?"
"Could you, uh… bring me a tissue?
Dean dropped the latest bowl into the sink and contemplated murdering his roommate. (He decided against, of course. Not that it was an obvious resolution, of course. It took great deliberation to not murder his roommate. Obviously.) "I'm cooking dinner, man. Can't you get one?"
"No."
Dean wasn't distracted or anything, but he also just read the same sentence seven times without comprehending it. (The sentence was: "Whisk until thickened.") "Why not?"
"I have to stay here."
"Stay where?" Dean finally figured out what the damn sentence meant and followed through. "And… why? Exactly?"
"With Samantha. She… she needs me."
"Cas." Dean blinked. Then he tossed the whisk into the sink - glad that he'd finally finished enough that he was done for a bit (and thus could deal with whatever problem his roommate had discovered) - and headed towards the door. "Is the tissue for the cow?"
"Yes. She's stuffy." He paused - Dean couldn't see him from the bathroom, where he was grabbing some damn tissue… not that he cared, of course - then added, "Probably hay fever."
"Hay fever is for humans, Cas."
"She is a human, Dean."
"She's a cow, Cas."
Dean had reached the door by then, enough that he could see when Cas huffed and shook his head. "Never you mind, Dean. Can you just get me a tissue?" A pause. "Please?"
Dean had already handed him the tissue before realizing, "Tell me you're not trying to get the cow to blow into a tissue."
"Well, she can't do it herself. Her hands are too young." Cas snorted, taking the tissue. "Thank you."
"She's a cow, Cas. Cows don't use tissues."
And, of course, since Cas and Samantha seemed determined to ally against him, she quite docilely allowed Cas to put the tissue over her snout and then blew into it. Cas grinned. "You were saying?"
Upon looking at her… okay, fine, maybe she didn't look fully normal. Indeed, maybe, possibly, she looked a little sick. And, not that Dean was worried, but… "She alright?"
Cas frowned, squinting at the cow. "I… I'm not sure. Maybe she just needs love?"
Dean blinked. "That does not cause stuffy nose, Cas. Or sneezing." Which… actually… that sounded kinda familiar… and, not that he cared, but… "Hold up." He bent down, resting his hand on her flank and feeling slight tremors under his palm. He didn't frown, of course, because he didn't care. Not at all. Obviously. "She feel like she's shivering to you?"
"A little." He reached over, hand on the cow's head before looking back at Dean. "Do you think she's cold?"
Obviously, Dean didn't care about the cow. Obviously. But maybe - just maybe - he'd spent some time researching cow illnesses (because he was worried about hiding her from his dad, obviously, not for any caring reasons). And maybe, maybe, maybe, he remembered something vaguely like those particular symptoms. "If that's what I'm thinking it is, we have to call Bobby-"
Cas was nodding before he even got out the name. "Yes! We need a doctor!"
"He's not a doctor, Cas."
Cas hmphed. Then he tilted his head. "How do you know what the sickness is?"
He was not gonna like the answer… but might as well give it. (Dean didn't snort beforehand, obviously.) "The google."
Sure enough, Cas practically started glaring at him. "You know how I feel about the Google, Dean. Please call the doctor."
"No, Cas, I'm going to call Bobby."
Cas nodded with an expression that made it very clear he thought Dean was an idiot. "Bobby is the doctor, Dean. Call him."
"No, he's a mechanic, Cas. And a professor." Which… surely that would be enough to distract Cas for the duration of a short phone call… right?"
Apparently not, since Cas was already grinning. "Oh, wow, how talented! Did you hear that, Samantha? He's a doctor and a professor and a mechanic!"
"No, he's-" Dean couldn't help breaking off because was it possible to give up on life for the seventh time in two days, or was that just reserved for dealing with roommates who adopted cows? "Never mind."
The call connected then, Bobby answering with a gruff, "Yeah? Singer."
"Hey, Pr- Bobby, you got a minute?"
"What's up?"
"Samantha's sick, and I remember reading something about some… short-term cow thing-" Not that he spent hours researching it or anything, of course. "And I don't remember enough to feel confident dealing with it. You got anything for me?"
"She actin' like she got a cold? Shiverin', tired, all that?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, won't last long. Three days, usually. Could be more, could be less. Pretty damn common in cows, actually. 'S called bovine ephemeral fever. Spread by mosquitoes, usually, so not much ya coulda done. She'll be fine. Just treat it like a cold. Fluids, food, shade, the usual."
"Cool… Sorry to bother you, and thanks for the help."
"Yeah, yeah, just go deal with it." Dean could just about make out a muffled idjits from the other end before the phone disconnected.
Cas was looking at him, eyebrow raised in impatient inquiry. "What did he say, Dean?"
"She's got some kind of a fever-"
"Sh-she's shivering. She's not warm."
Dean blinked. "Not how it works, Cas.' And then he was about to respond, and Dean couldn't deal with that, so… Anyway… it's like a cold."
"H-how do you treat a cold? With…" He frowned, looked over at Samantha - who had curled herself into a clumsy sprawl on the ground in front of them - and then asked, "Blankets?"
Which… he supposed it made sense, but... No. "Fluids, Cas. Rest. Shade. Food. Just like with a human."
"Oh. Okay. Then… you stay with her and give her pets." Then, it was Dean's turn to try interrupting and Cas' turn to prevent it. "Love is an important part of treatment, Dean. I'll go get her some… uh… Oh, right. Fluids." And then he was gone before Dean even had a chance to respond.
Which did not stop Dean from talking to the empty room (not that it meant anything… it was just… polite). "...You do that, Cas."
And… well… Cas had told him to pet the cow. And, not that he cared about the cow or anything, and not that he cared about Cas beyond, well, being roommates, but… he kinda had to. Right? Obviously.
Which was the only reason - the sole reason, the first and final reason - that he reached over and started… well… petting the cow. (And no, he didn't feel bad because she was shivering under his hand, or find her cute when she was vaguely nuzzling at his fingers whenever it passed near her snout, or smile at the way she kinda half rolled over before flopping exhaustedly against the ground. Obviously, he didn't.)
He also did not jump when Cas opened the door and contemplate jerking his hand away from the cow's fur - and it was contemplate only because the cow promptly rolled back over onto his hand and trapped it there, and he really didn't have the heart to knock her off again - as he gestured with their bottle of milk. "Fluids!" And then he had the audacity to grin at the combined mass of Dean-and-the-cow. "How is she? Is she okay?"
"She's sick, Cas." And apparently Cas' cow-whispering powers were not just Cas' cow-whispering powers because Samantha chose that precise moment to moo piteously. (It was more of a mewl, really, and not at all empathy-inspiring. "That didn't change from pets."
Cas nodded solemnly. "She sounds very sick. Let's get right to it, then."
