11

The Devil is Due

Castiel took another shower, thankfully not getting soap in his eyes again, grateful to be out of his damp clothes and be warm again.

He was lying on his bed now, looking up at the ceiling, trying to get a grasp on why he behaved the way he did with Annabelle. He wanted something, but he wasn't sure what, when he kissed her like that.

He shook his head. He would never do something unless she wanted to as well, he just had absolutely no idea why he acted the way he did, or what the hell that feeling was.

"Cas, you alright?" Dean asked, smirking curiously at him.

"I don't know," he said honestly. Dean's smile grew and he glanced at his brother.

"You got hot for her, didn't you?" He asked. Castiel frowned.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Uh," Dean chuckled. "You, uh… How do I put this..? Alright, just, think about her for a minute." The newly mortal man shut his eyes, thinking.

He thought about her thick hair, how soft it was as it fell between his fingers. He thought of how he felt when she kissed him. It was the best feeling in the world. He saw her face, the soft outlines of her cheeks, that beautiful smile, her giggle and that wrinkle in her nose when he made her laugh.

He sighed contentedly, smiling a little, wishing he was with her right now. So he could hold her, so he could kiss her, so he-

His eyes flew open and he sat up, looking down. His ever still wide eyes looked at Dean, terrified and confused.

"Dean, um… wh, what is that?"

It took them both a moment to understand what he meant. And once they did, Sam started laughing so hard he fell down.

Dean slapped a hand over his face, chuckling, embarrassed for him.

Castiel looked between them, confused and wondering why they were laughing at him. He didn't think this was funny at all!

"Your turn, Dean," Sam blurted, still laughing. Dean went pale, groaning in despair.

"Son of a bitch," he mumbled. He sighed and looked up at the confused man in front of him, who was trying to figure out how to get whatever this was to go away. "Alright, Cas," Dean said, throwing a book at Sam to shut him up. "Time for 'The Talk'."

"The what?"

"Just shut up and listen."

"The Talk" just left Castiel more confused than before. He didn't need to know all of that; all he wanted to know was what the hell was going on and how to make it stop. Instead, he learned how sex works. He didn't dare ask any questions. He didn't want to hear the answers. The conversation made him uncomfortable, solving his initial problem.

He went to sleep with a slight twinge in his throat, but thought nothing of it. Not until the next morning, at least.

He woke up, feeling groggy, the ache in his throat now a burning sensation. His face felt hot, but the rest of him was freezing. He didn't really understand what was happening, or why he felt this way. This being human thing was really complicated.

"Dean?" He croaked, his throat feeling like it was being stabbed.

Dean looked over at him from his spot at the card table, setting the newspaper down, frowning. "Cas, somethin' wrong?" He nodded slowly, moving to get up, but finding the act difficult. His joints ached and his arms shook when he tried to prop himself up. Dean came over to him when he fell back down.

"Hey, hey, easy," Dean said. "What's wrong, Cas?" He put a hand on his forehead, answering his own question. His brow creased with worry.

"Wh-what's wrong with me?" He asked, that same horrible burning in his throat.

"I think you're sick," Dean explained, putting the back of his hand on his cheek. "It's not too awful bad. You should be alright in a couple days."

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, coming out of the bathroom, his hair damp.

"Cas is sick," Dean said, standing and going over to him.

"How the hell did he get sick?" Sam asked, lowering his voice.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged. "I mean, he was outside in the rain for awhile yesterday, but other than that…" Sam shut his eyes, sighing.

"I should've thought of that sooner," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"That body's immune system has to be terrible," Sam explained. "I mean, it didn't get hurt, it wasn't prone to any viruses because Cas was possessing it. It had no reason to build anything up because Cas was protecting it. And now that he can't do that anymore he's about as vulnerable as a two year old when it comes to illnesses."

"Great," Dean sighed. "This sucks!"

"No wonder he hates being human," Sam sighed. "He keeps getting the short end of the stick."

"I'm gonna get him some Tylenol and try to explain what's going on," Dean said, turning. Sam grabbed his shoulder, turning him back around.

"Dean, we have to take care of that poltergeist thing," He said firmly.

"I think it can wait, Sammy," he turned again and once again, Sam turned him around.

"No it can't! They're opening that place again in two hours. If we don't take care of this now people are gonna get hurt."

Dean sighed, running his hand over his face. "I'm not gonna make him get up, get in the car and wait for God knows how long while he feels like this. If it wasn't the first time he's ever been sick in his life it'd be different."

"Then he can stay here."

"What the hell kind of answer is that?" Dean scowled.

"Dean, I'm saying this because I think it's a good idea, I'm saying this because people are going to die if we don't take care of this."

"Do we both seriously need to go?"

"It'll go a helluva lot faster if it's both of us. That and you saw those things, we need back-up."

Dean sighed again, looking over at his sickened friend. "How long will it take?"

"With both of us? Ten minutes. Tops," Sam promised. Dean sighed.

"Ten minutes?" He asked after a beat of silence. Sam nodded. Dean took another breath and went back over to Castiel, taking out his phone and snatching the Tylenol off of the counter.

"Cas?" He said gently. He stared up at him, looking absolutely miserable. "Sam and I have to go out of r a few minutes, alright? We have to take care of those poltergeists before somebody gets hurt. We'll be gone for ten minutes, okay?" Castiel nodded. Dean put the cell phone on the side table next to him. "All you have to do is dial one and hit talk. It'll call Sam, okay?"

"Wh-why would I need to call Sam?" He rasped. Sam handed his older brother a glass of water, who nodded thankfully and turned his attention back to Castiel.

"In case something bad happens, alright? Or if you need anything, anything at all," he said, carefully lifting his head and tipping the pills and a mouthful of water to his lips.

"Okay," Castiel said, right before he broke into a coughing fit. Dean frowned again. The last thing he wanted to do was leave him alone right now.

"Alright, we'll be right back, okay?" He stood, grabbing his car keys and his jacket. Sam was hesitant as well, but he knew that the sooner they left the sooner they'd be back. Besides, it was just ten minutes, Castiel would be fine.

"See ya in a minute, Cas," Sam said before walking out the door. Dean took one last look before he followed Sam, making sure the door was locked as he went.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked. Dean pursed his lips.

"I just, I have a bad feeling. It's probably nothing…"

The brothers got into the Impala, and left.

Castiel felt miserable, absolutely miserable. The Tylenol Dean had given him hadn't kicked in yet, and he wasn't sure what it would do when it did.

He was pulling the blankets around him tighter when the door burst open.

He jumped, crying out in surprise. Three men stepped in wearing suits.

"Hello, Castiel," the man at the front said.

"Z-Zachariah," he stammered, reaching behind him for the phone, shaking in the sudden cold that touched his fevered skin.

The angel stepped closer to him, smiling. "What's the matter, little brother?" He chuckled as Castiel desperately tried to get a grip on the device and back away from him, no matter how much his body begged him not to.

Zachariah laughed harder when the phone fell. "Sam and Dean shouldn't have left you alone when you're this," he grinned, looking the sickened man over. "Weak."

"Please," Why he said that particular word, Castiel didn't know. He did know that he was scared. Very, very scared.

Zachariah cocked his head to the side, still smiling. "Take him."

"No, no, please! DEAN!"

-Uh oh!-