20

City of Angels

She sat there for a long time, hand over her mouth, not moving, barely blinking. She finally shook her head.

"This is insane," she said quietly. Sam nodded.

"I know," he said routinely. "But you have to believe me. I wouldn't lie about something like this."

"I didn't say I didn't believe you," she corrected. "I just said this is insane. I believe it. I mean, that would explain why he acts the way he does. Why he doesn't know things everybody knows. Or why he's never been with a girl. Or…or why he's so sweet. He's literally an angel," she sniffed, wiping her eyes. "Why the hell would his brothers do something like that to him?"

"I told you-"

"It was rhetorical," she sighed. "God, he's so sweet… That poor baby." She shook her head again. "He has no idea how to deal with this, does he?" Sam shook his head. She looked down at her hands, sniffing again. "I think this just makes it that much worse. I mean, they did that to an angel for God's sake!" She shook her head, resting her face in her hands. "I thought angels were supposed to be the good guys."

"So did we," Sam admitted. "But, uh, turns out a lot of 'em are pricks."

"Man, I was just kidding about that angelic thing," she mumbled to herself.

They both looked up when Dean stepped into the room, heading to the open kitchen, grabbing baggies and dish towels before heading to the freezer.

"What's wrong?" Annabelle asked, worried about the answer.

"His fever's way too high," he said, shoving cubes into the small bags and wrapping them in the towels. "I just checked it and its almost 107." Her eyes grew wide.

"I'm not gonna toss him in the shower," he said, shaking his head. "That…that's just…it's torture. But puttin' these around him'll help." She nodded.

"Should I come with you?" She asked. Dean shook his head.

"I don't think that'd be a good idea," he said firmly. "'Cause he's not gonna like this, and you're not gonna like him crying. It'd cause less of a problem if it were just me."

"When can I see him?" She asked desperately.

"After he calms down," he assured. "He'll be alright. It'll just take a minute to get his fever down."

He disappeared back down the hall after getting a glass of water.

A few minutes later, Castiel was crying. Annabelle's knuckles were even whiter as her folded hands clenched, eyes shutting, chewing her lower lip.

"This sucks."

Dean looked down at the sleeping ex-angel, brows creased in pain. He didn't want to do this, but Cas might die if he didn't. He sighed, setting down the glass of water and resting six of the seven baggies in his lap.

He pulled the covers back, one hand on Castiel's forehead, thumbing it gently.

Castiel's eyes opened before Dean could move another inch. The cool air assaulting his sweltering skin was painful, making awful goosebumps twinge and his bones ache.

"Dean?" He croaked, sore throat back in full swing. "Wh-what are you d-doing with that?" Dean swallowed hard before answering, preparing himself.

"You're fever's too high, buddy," he said, smiling gently. "I gotta get it back down or something really bad is gonna happen, alright?"

"D-Dean, that's i-ice," he trembled, scared.

"I know, Cas. It's gonna hurt, but we've gotta get it down, alright?" He shook his head, tears welling in his bloodshot eyes.

"Bu-but I took medicine," he whimpered. "An-Annabelle said it would help." Dean shut his eyes for a brief moment before answering.

"I know what she said, and I thought it would help too, but it's not working, okay? It'll just be a minute." He moved to lift his head. Castiel jerked away from him, shrinking into the pillows, tears on his face now, making his headache all that much worse.

"No, no, p-please. I t-took medicine, I took medicine," he sobbed, shaking. Dean touched his forehead again.

"I know, I know. It'll be over soon, Cas. It's alright. Shh…" Castiel continued to cry.

Dean lifted his head, placing the baggie under his neck.

The angel's breath hitched in his throat before he cried harder, shaking his head.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay, I know it hurts. Shh…"

He placed one inside each arm, one in-between his legs, two under his knees and one under the small of his back.

He sobbed harshly, coughing several times from the effort. Dean grimaced at the pain he was causing his friend, hating that he couldn't even cover him up like he was begging him to.

"Please, Dean," he gulped. "P-please, just one. Plehease…" Dean fought his own tears, linking hands with his battered friend, shushing him and trying to tell him it was alright.

It took nearly a half-an-hour of this Hell before his temperature was down to 104, which was still pretty high, but not nearly as high as it had been.

"Alright, alright, no more," Dean said, taking the ice packs away as quickly as he could. "All done, okay?" The angel cried in relief, welcoming Dean's warmth as he hugged him.

"Shh, I'm sorry, Cas. I'm so sorry." Castiel shook his head.

"Y-you're a good b-brother, Dean," he choked. "I w-wish you were m-my brother." Dean smiled a little.

"You don't have to be related to be brothers, Cas," he said softly. Castiel cried into his shoulder, shaking. He had brothers. And they were just as human as he was.

I walked into my room, at Dean and Cas.

Seeing Cas cry was gut wrenching, but there was something really sweet about seeing them hug. Not in that way, in a brother way.

Dean looked over his shoulder at me; Cas opened his eyes.

"Annabelle," he choked, something in his eyes that I'd never seen before. Longing. Dean must've noticed it too. He carefully laid him back down, giving him a reassuring smile before standing and moving out of my way.

"Thank you," I said just loud enough to where he could hear me. He nodded.

"Take care of him." And he left the room.

I sat down next to him, glancing at the bandage on his shoulder and the gauze around his wrists. The poor thing…

I took his hand, stroking his cheek. "You feelin' better, baby?" I asked.

"Better…b-because you're here." I smiled. It was corny, yeah, but he really meant it.

"Wh-what was Sam telling you?" I swallowed hard, wondering if I should answer or not.

I spilled. I told him everything that Sam had told me.

He looked up at me when I stopped, horrified. "Y-you know?" He shuddered. I nodded. "Do…do you still…like me?"

"Oh, honey," I lifted him in my arms, cradling him close. "Of course I do! Why wouldn't I?" He sniffed, face in my shirt. "Cas, I like you a lot. And this…this doesn't change anything." I lifted his chin, kissing him gently, not caring if I got sick too.

"You need some sleep," I said. He squeezed me tighter.

"D-don't let me go," he begged, voice raw. I winced again, lying down with him.

He curled up against me, nuzzling his burning face in my chest, closing his eyes, looking peaceful for the first time since I had found him on that sidewalk.

I kissed the top of his head, running my fingers through his hair. "Just sleep, Cas." I held him for awhile, and it wasn't long before I fell asleep too.

-D'awww. More soon!-