For a while the Winchesters listened to the soft moans and groans. Both pretended it did not bother them. But when the wail passed into wilder churning movements Dean rose from his chair.

"Okay, that's it. That's enough."

Sam watched his big brother closely as he sat down on the foot of the bed and firmly grabbed the angels' shoulder. He soothingly murmured some soft words in the ears of the dark haired man. The angel was out of it, but he still responded to his voice. Sighing and moaning, he turned his sweaty head towards him. His eyes were still closed. His breath came out in short huffs, by the panic of his bad dream.

"Sam," Dean began, "something isn't right."

And Sam knew what was going on. As he watched Deans' drop an investigative palm onto the forehead of the angel, Sam note to himself: Castiel has a fever. Dean let his palm rest for a few seconds. Unconsciously he shook his furrowed head. At the touch of his shoulder Dean felt immediately that the black-haired man was hot. But when he felt his head, it was clear that this man was running a hell of a fever.

"Sam. We need him cool. I do not know how it is with angels. But I think it's almost 105." In a jerk he pulled the blankets off from the sleeping angel. Cooling meant; jacket off, tie off. Overcoat, shoes, socks. Maybe even his blouse.

"Man. This is going to be too fucking personal." But some things are unavoidable. This had to be done. So he awkwardly started with his shoes.

Meanwhile Sam was busy looking for a bowl or something he could throw in the ice. When he saw a large scale with flowers on the windowsill Sam nodded to himself. He threw the entire contents into the trash and hastily washed it out.

"Sam. I appreciate your help over here. You can bring Cas the flowers later when we're actually finished 'saving' his live. Come on!" Sam shot his brother a pissed look.

"I'll go get some ice," he said and disappeared out the door.

"Great," Dean muttered somewhat annoyed. Now he was the one who had to do the embarrassing things. With a deep sigh, Dean finally shrugged his shoulders and went on with the socks. Two narrow bare feet were visible. They were actually pretty neat feet, with neat nails and callus-free soles. He was almost impressed. "Wy Cas, Sam would be so jealous when he finds out," he joked. The angel huffed and groaned when he gave him a pat on his ankle. Dean grinned to himself. At least the angel was calmer but his breathing came out quickly and more shallowly, now the fever seemed to rise.

"No ..." Castiel suddenly rave softly. At that, the angel shook his head wildly with on the flat pillow. But soon he relaxed again. His breathing was slightly quieter but heavy. Now his body began to tremble.

Dean had noticed the deterioration and his grin disappeared like snow in the sun. Hurriedly he pushed the angel flat on his back so he could undo the belt of his pants. In a few quick and short movements Dean grabbed the trouser legs and internally counted until three.

"…I am burning… it burns…"

With a jerk he pulled off the black, and a little too big, pants from the angels' narrowed hips. Two white legs were visible. But Dean did not want to look at them for longer than two seconds. Somehow it felt so wrong.

"I'm burning. Burning… burning…"

"Yeah yeah, Cas. I'll get it. You're burning. You said that already."

When he wanted to pull up Castiel for a bit to draw his coat off from his shoulders, the angel began to toss some more. As if he was fighting against his hands. Castiel angrily turned away from Deans' hands and curled himself up like a little shivering ball. His arms hugged his legs as his knees where almost touching his ears. Like if he was seeking for a little protection.

"Cas, come on, man. Don't make this harder than it already is."

"Stop ...It's burning… No! ... too hot… Please ..." Castiel rambled on a little louder.

Dean walked to the other side of the bed and began to shake his arms out of the mews of his trench coat. At that moment Sam finally walked in. And it was hard to tell for Dean whether he was very happy that he wasn't alone with the angel anymore, or that he rather wished that Sam had never seen him do this whole 'let's take off Castiels' clothes' thing.

But apparently Sam was much calmer in the whole situation. With a great balanced fit Sam came to him and lifted the angel into a sitting position, as gentle as he could.

"I've got him, Dean," Sam muttered softly.

"Yeah, thanks."

Then, it went quiet.

While Sam had the man under his armpits, and gently placed the lifeless head on to his shoulders to support the weight, Dean did the rest of the work. The trench coat slipped off easily. The black jacket was a little more difficult, but it came off anyway. After Dean pulled the tie looser and he pulled over Castiels' hot head and started with the buttons of his white shirt he noticed that it was soaking wet by now. Even he himself was starting to sweat from the heat this angel was radiating from his bare skin.

"I'm hot… I'm hot…" Dean pooled an eyebrow at the raving angel.

"Yes you are." And Sam started to laugh. "He is!" Dean said out loud. He made his brother only laugh harder when his face started to turn reddish.

"Then maybe you should give him some flowers, instead," Sam quipped.

"You have a dirty mind, Sam," Dean muttered soft.

...

It took some time before Castiel finally was lying flat again, back on the mattress. Covered in ice. As he was supposed to for another hour. Because the ice didn't work that great on him. His fever stayed at 103.

It would have been better if the angel had been lying in a bathtub filled with ice. But in this cheap motel they only had a dirty shower that actually doesn't even work. So they had filled some wet towels with ice and deposited in on the half-naked man. First the poor man protested against the coldness; his face and arms gave seizures for over almost ten minutes. But later on Castiel dropped the fight and fell into a deep sleep. Maybe it was just because the angel had no energy left to fight against it. But, as bad as it looked for both of the Winchesters, this had to be done.

After a while Sam had gone back too searching on the net.

Meanwhile, Dean was sitting on the bed, opposite from the angel. His eyes started to droop and even began to niddle-noddle a bit.

"Wow, the weather in Scotland was pretty bad man. Castiel wasn't exaggerating about that part." He waited for his brother to reply. "Dude. There are some cool pictures. The police had found a goat hanging in a freaking tree. Wanna see?" Sam turned his laptop to the bed where Dean was sitting.

Finally he saw that his brother was too busy fighting against his own sleep. And Sam could not blame him. He'd droved all day, yesterday, and had gotten only one half an hour of sleep.

Sam sat at the kitchen table and watched the scene for some time. Until it was getting ridiculous and he walked over to his brother. With one hand on his brothers' chest, he pushed Dean back on to the mattress. Deans' eyes shot open in shock, but sighed elated when the back of his head touched the pillow.

"But… Cas..." he moaned sleepy.

"Get some sleep, man. You deserve it. I will watch him."

"…'Kay. You do that. I'm just… gonna…"

Sam could hardly hide his smile when his big brother let him put a blanked on him. Sam believed it was maybe two years ago when he did that the last time. Unbelievable how fast time goes.

And so this Friday morning passed in silence.

…

A/N: Don't be embarrassment, Dean. Cas is hot. Hell he is burning! 105? That's not good. I hope this writer will get the angel back to his normal self again, soon. Wait a minute… that's me! Oh.. I must go back to work then. Haha. Please review and let me know what you think of this chapter!

X

Josie