Castiel spoke the words carefully and was shocked when Dean shoved away from him snarling. "I knew this was a fucking dream, Goddammit." He swore, stumbling away. "I'd like to wake up now."

"Dean…this is not a dream."

"That's what everyone in dreams tells you." Dean pointed an angry finger at him. "I'm onto you buddy, don't think I'm going to fall for that-" He cut off in a fit of coughs, falling to his hands and knees on the rough pavement of the road. Castiel was growing more alarmed by the moment. Not only was Dean ill, but he seemed to be going insane as well. He needed to get the boy back to Sam and Bobby fast. He knelt next to the heavily wheezing hunter and reached out to him, but Dean rolled away obviously having difficulty breathing. "Back off." He hissed between short, gurgled breaths.

"Dean, you need a hospital."

"Fuck that."

"Dean please."

"No." Castiel felt anger seep into his next words.

"Dean Winchester, this is not a dream. Now stand up and come with me." Confusion flickered across the young man's face.

"It has to be." He whispered. "Sam's dead. He's gone and its all my fault." Castiel melted inside, Dean's face was so open and vulnerable, so full of pain. He swept forward wrapping his arms around the now shaking human.

"No, Dean, it was never your fault, and Sam is alive." He stroked the hunters hair as he held him tightly. "God rewarded his sacrifice granting him new life."

"Liar." Dean pushed at him weakly. "God doesn't interfere remember, he just sits on his ass while the world burns and-" Castiel cut him off with an impulsive kiss, not knowing how else to shut him up while simultaneously giving into the overwhelming urge inside of him. Dean's lips were dry and feverishly warm, and he knew he shouldn't be doing this with the boy being in the condition that he was, but he had been waiting for until he knew how Dean felt about him. He still didn't know and was shocked when Dean grabbed him tighter and kissed back, opening his mouth to Castiel's questioning tongue. Even more so when the hunter moved so that he was straddling his lap. Dean's breath quickened making a noise in his chest that caused Castiel to pull away quickly and stare into his fever ridden green eyes.

"I need to get you to a hospital." Dean snickered.

"I was kinda on my way to one. How do you feel about ghost doctors?" Castiel sighed.

"You are not going on a hunt." He stood lifting Dean so that he was carrying him.

"Don't forget the Impala." Dean murmured against his chest. The Angel sighed putting a hand on the hood of the gently purring vehicle.

"Jesus!" Sam yelped falling off his chair as Dean's black Chevy Impala appeared out of nowhere in Bobby's driveway. He looked up to see Caz standing next to it practically carrying Dean in one arm. "Dean!" He shot off the porch.

"Careful." Castiel said quietly. "He believes that he is dreaming." His brow furrowed. "He is also very ill."

"Dean never gets sick." He gasped as he took Dean into his arms. His older brother was only a shadow of his former self. His clothes were dirty. His face had about a week of growth on it and his hair was crusted with dirt and blood, hopefully not his own, not to mention the longest he'd ever seen it. He obviously hadn't been eating enough seeing as his body was much lighter and could only be described as gaunt with his sunken cheeks and hollowed eyes. His skin was a pasty white color yet burning with fever, and Sam wanted to cry hearing the man he'd idled his whole life breathe in short gurgled gasps.

"His mind is unwell Sam." Castiel added gravely.

"Can't you fix him?" Sam looked up at him with watery eyes, but the Angel shook his head.

"He needs a hospital Sam."

"He hates hospitals."

"Doesn't matter what he likes." Bobby snapped walking up. "He's a damn fool, now either fly him there Castiel or put him in my truck Sam." Caz automatically took Dean from Sam and disappeared leaving the two stunned hunters to scramble for Bobby's truck.

Castiel never left Dean's side as he lay there in the hospital bed looking like death and wished he had never left. A lot of this was his fault and he knew it. He'd left Dean alone in that cemetery knowing how the young hunter felt, knowing what he wanted to say but couldn't because Dean Winchester never asked for help or comfort. The doctors were cautiously hopeful that he'd make a full recovery. Not only did he have pneumonia in both lungs and a fever nearing 110 degrees his body was covered in injuries. Three bruised ribs, a deep cut on his shoulder, claw marks across his back and a deep gash across his chest that he had attempted to stitch himself, and various other bumps, cuts, and bruises one always received in a tussle. The cuts on his shoulder and chest were infected so badly the skin around them had begun to turn green. Sam had been horrified listening to the doctors, Castiel was just glad that it wasn't worse and that they had found him, because the doctors said that he would have been dead in two days without medical attention. He reached over, slipping his hand into Dean's cold, pale one and sighed caressing the back of it with his thumb. Dean had been asleep for closing in on a week. He wasn't in a coma though, the doctors said, he was suffering from exhaustion, dehydration, and malnutrition.

"Idiot child." Castiel murmured softly brushing hair out of Dean's face. The length was attractive on him, softening his features more than the military cut he'd had before. It was nowhere near as long as Sam's, which was good, but it was long enough to hang in his face and brush his ears. Suddenly Dean squeezed his hand, moaning in fear.

"Don't go Caz." He whispered through dry lips. "Please don't go." Tears welled in Castiel's eyes and he leaned forward brushing his lips to Dean's.

"I'm not going anywhere Dean, I promise." He murmured softly, stroking Dean's hair. Slowly Dean began to relax and his breathing evened out, but his hand remained tightly wrapped around the Angel's.

Dean opened his eyes groggily. Where the hell was he-oh…a hospital. "Son of a bitch." He muttered looking around. His eyes froze on Castiel, who sat on a chair next to his bed holding his hand.

"Dean." A voice at the door startled him and when he looked he stopped breathing. Sam, his Sammy, stood in the doorway carrying two cups of coffee. He was still dreaming, but Sammy was there, coffee abandoned on a counter and his arms were wrapping around Dean's neck, but he couldn't move. This wasn't possible. Castiel's hand squeezed his.

"You are not dreaming Dean." He said quietly. "Sam is truly here, alive, as a reward for all that the two of you have done." Dean stared at him, not really comprehending the words coming out of his mouth.

"You fucking idiot." Sam snapped hitting his good shoulder as he stood. "You were not keeping your promise." Dean turned dead eyes on him.

"It was a stupid promise anyway." He shrugged. "And I was keeping it, well half anyway."

"You ignored the half I was serious about,. Dean I wanted you to go back to Lisa and live the life you always wanted."

"Yeah, well Sam, the life I always wanted had you in it." Dean snarled angrily. Sam took a step back in shock while Castiel's hand on his tightened. "Besides." He said calming down slightly. "I was doing just fine." His brother snorted.

"Yeah, sure you were. That's why you're in the hospital with pneumonia, a fever that could kill you, rotten, infected wounds, exhaustion because you obviously haven't been sleeping, not to mention eating or drinking. The doctor said you would have been dead in two days if Castiel hadn't found you and brought you to the hospital." Dean blinked, really? He looked down at the bandages on his chest. They were fine yesterday, wait…

"What day is it?"

"Saturday."

"The date retard." Dean sighed, loving the look of irritation Sam shot him.

"August 10th."

"Shit." The last day he remembered changing the bandage was July 30th.

"You have been asleep for six days." Castiel supplied, anticipating his next question. So he hadn't changed it for four days before Caz had found him.

"How did you find me anyway?"

"I followed you from the werewolves in Little Rock."

"That's another thing!" Sam snapped. "What were you thinking taking on a group of werewolves."

"I barely got a scratch from them, it's the vampires that did me in, or maybe it was the poltergeist." He frowned. He'd been nonstop hunting since he'd come to his senses in Lawrence; courtesy of one Adam Hendley, who still called him every once in a while asking him to come back for a visit, which would have been worrisome if Adam was a girl which he definitely was not, so he wrote it up to best sex-in-his-life-so-he-wants-more kind of thing and the way he'd been screaming it was definitely the best. He smiled to himself before realizing that Sam was talking to him. "What?"

"God!" Sam through his hands in the air. "Have you been listening to anything I said?"

"Was it a lecture on how reckless I am?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Pff, heard it all before." Dean waved a dismissive hand. "Besides it could have been worse."

"I don't see how, Dean."

"That's cuz you're a pessimist." Sam blinked at him the erupted into laughter. Dean grinned sneaking a glance at Caz, who's lips were turned up in the ghost of a smile as he watched the two brothers.

"God, Dean." Sam laughed, holding his sides and collapsing into a chair.

"I'm right and you know it Sammy boy."

"Jerk." Dean's grin widened.

"Bitch."