Heading south on I-81, Dean wished he had some scotch tape or matches to keep his eyes open. If things were normal…. When were they every normal? If they were Winchester Normal, he would have pulled over at the last Super 8 or the one before it.

Sam was making these disturbing gurgling noises. Dean was tempted to pull over and check on him. It sounded suspiciously like when he had a nosebleed running down the back of his throat. Castiel was just about as disturbing. He was asleep. Honest to God asleep. He was crumpled up in his trench coat, head lolling, and a thin clear line of spittle tipping from the corner of his mouth. Dean really should have wakened both of them but he just wanted to get home. He was close now. The Impala was eating up the road. Sure, he'd had to avoid a couple of angel made craters and had been diverted onto I-81 by a road block due to a presumably angel-falling initiated factory fire.

Hands gripping the wheel with painful pressure kept Dean awake. He looked at his right hand as he crossed the state line from Nebraska into Kansas. That hand had rested on Castiel's thigh and it had felt as if it belonged there, as if by touch he was claiming Cas as his own, and saying that he belonged with the fallen angel too. Dean shook his head, where had that thought come from? He hadn't said any of that. As soon as Cas had mentioned Paul, Dean's mind had some kind of blue screen freeze up. Still it had been pleasant to hold onto Cas's pant leg as they had begun their journey south.

"Dean."

The hunter smiled over at Castiel, "Yes Cas?"

"I think Sam needs a hospital."

"What?" Dean braked hard, not even putting Baby in park. He twisted around to see blood coming from Sam's nostrils and mouth. "Fuck! Oh Fuck! Goddammit."

Dean went into controlled panic mode. "OK. OK, Where are we? Get me Sam's phone from his pocket and his wallet!"

Castiel leaned back. Dean was touched by the way Cas kept talking to Sam telling him what he was doing, even though Sam was clearly unconscious.

"Here." Castiel handed them to Dean, but he only took the phone from Cas's grip. "OK… Cas have a look for Sam's health insurance cards. There should be a few."

Dean fiddled with Sam's techie android phone. After a frustrating ten seconds or so, he managed to turn on the GPS and bring up a search engine. They were six miles out from Republic County Hospital in Belleville. He stepped on the gas.

"Sam Rawlings?" Castiel asked holding up an ID.

"No good, we burnt that one out."

"Smith?"

"No freaking way. Not after Indiana. Why has he even still got that one?"

"Lawrence… We will use that one Dean."

"What?" Dean started at Castiel's determined tone.

"I will be able to obtain information on his condition for us."

"Huh?" Dean was not fully concentrating on Castiel's words. He was at the city limits and looking for directions to the hospital.

Castiel passed over an ID. Dean looked down expecting Sammy's goofy face but it was Castiel looking out from underneath the laminated card.

"Castiel Lawrence." The ex-angel said simply.

"Well I'll be… Fine… I don't have my Lawrence fed badge with me, so you'll have to be the brother."

"And you can be my husband." Castiel declared casually.

Dean couldn't form words to answer that statement. He might just need emergency care of a coronary nature. He mounted the kerb at the hospital entrance and dashed into the reception. "My Brother, fuck,.. in law… he is bleeding… from his mouth and nose…"

Dean felt Castiel wrap him in his arms. His knees had gone and Cas's arms were the only thing keeping him upright. "I can't lose him, Cas. I can't. I stopped him. Stopped him from curing Crowley. This isn't meant to happen. He's supposed to be alright."

He let Castiel guide him to the family waiting area, let Castiel's serious formal tone impress the doctors with his concern for his 'brother', let Castiel give him a coffee and tilt the paper cup to his mouth to sip it.

The frantic activity around him and Castiel's grip on his lower arm finally pulled him back to reality. He cleared his throat. "How long did I phase out for?"

Castiel looked at his watch. "Two hours."

"Sam?"

"They are draining fluid from his lungs and giving him a blood transfusion. He was drowning."

"Freaking hell."

"Dr Keelson says we were in time and he is hopeful."

"Can we see him?"

"Not yet. They have tests to do, soon Dean." Cas pulled on his arm.

"It is like an episode of ER in here. The web said this was a small county hospital."

"Angelic fall out." Castiel looked uncomfortable. "I believe some of these patients are my former brethren, others have been injured by their falls."

Dean nodded. He couldn't worry about that now. "Lawrence? Huh? Why? Where did you get the ID?"

"I was put on the spot for a family name."

Dean smiled, "…. And you chose Lawrence?"

"Yes. It made me feel close to you when we were apart. Dieter, a software design student, created my IDs."

Dean's eyes narrowed. He heard a voice approaching which was familiar but he couldn't place it. This was all he needed, their cover blown while Sammy was in dire need. He hoped it was someone they had helped and would keep their trap shut.

"...Could have been killed… how could you be so reckless over a family pet?"

Dean sat up to attention and saw two fire-fighters walking towards him. Paul's lower arm was wrapped in gauze and the top half of his fire suit was open and hanging down. His face and white wife-beater were smeared with soot.

"Dean!"

Then Paul was on him. He was pulled up with an action that must have hurt the fire-fighter's burnt limb.

"Dean are you OK? Why are you here?"

Dean's face was smashed against Paul's shoulder and he felt Castiel rest a hand on his lower back. Talk about being caught between two lovers. He should write a country & western song.

Paul loosened his hold, wincing as he drew his arm back.

"Sam…" Dean couldn't. He shook his head. "Sam.." He tried again.

"Got worse hey? You sure picked a doozy time to hit an emergency room, every hospital in the state is heaving. Weren't you on a job?"

"Yeah. Yeah Man. We blew the frigging thing off. We never do that. We always see it through, but Sam. He… It's…."

"Sam is receiving treatment." Castiel interrupted.

Paul raised an eyebrow noticing the other man. Then Dean watched as Paul's eyes travelled down Castiel's face, shoulders, arm to where his hand was glued to Dean's back, grounding him.

Dean couldn't cope with any of this. He didn't want his life to be a melodrama or Jerry Springer crap. "What happened to you Paul?"

"I'm an idiot. One of those comets that fell to earth landed on Stephen Anderson's roof. The whole house went up. Three engines to put it out. We got all six kids and the parents out, but doofus here thought he could save Mutty, their sheepdog."

"Did you?" Dean asked softly.

"Nuh." Paul grunted, "I got a dead dog, an inconsolable seven year old, a sizzled arm, and probably a reprimand on my file for recklessness. What a freaking crazy night."

"Tell me about it." Dean said rhetorically.

There was an awkward pause while Castiel continued to do his staring thing at Paul. Dean coughed. "Paul Kerry this is Castiel Lawrence. Cas, Paul."

Paul's eyes nearly dropped out of his head. Castiel was not at all what he expected. The guy had bed-tossed hair, a slim body, intense eyes, a toothy grin and what was with the gravelly voice?

Dean ran.

He wasn't proud of it, but it was all too weird. He bolted for the restroom and leaned against the closed cubicle door for the count of one hundred. Once his immature hide and seek was done, he washed his hands and splashed his face, and went to find a doctor to tell him about what they were doing to Sam. He had to keep repeating to himself that this hospital visit was not like when Hallucinating Sam was hit by the car in Indiana or when Dad or Bobby… he stopped himself. He wasn't losing Sam. He just wasn't.

Doctor I-wear-scrubs-so-am-better-than-you refused to tell anything to Dean. He stomped back to the waiting area. Paul and Castiel were still there. Their knees were touching and Castiel held Paul's hand in his.

Dean had a momentary panic that they were talking about him, judging him. "What's going on?"

"I've been telling Castiel about Leslie."

"Oh!" Dean felt a little guilty that he hadn't asked, "I should have asked you…"

"No Dean, it is fine. Sam must be filling up all that empty space between your ears." Paul grinned.

Dean returned a smile for the cheeky comment, but Castiel looked offended.

"Dean is very intelligent. He is not just a pretty face. Although the symmetry of his features and the exquisite tone of his eyes…"

"Digressing again, Cas!" Dean called in horror but Paul only chuckled.

"So Paul, Leslie? You had the talk?"

"I took him back." Paul's grey eyes dropped to gaze at his feet.

"Like met up with him again?"

"Like he moved back in with me. I know, I know, I'm a push over. Peter nearly lost his shit. He bawled me out over the phone and told me he is not picking up the pieces next time. He got Dad to call me from his retirement hideaway in Galway and piss on me from a great height." Paul looked at Dean as if seeking his approval.

"Cas and I are on our way home."

"You are?"

"Yeah. Aren't we Cas? As soon as we can sign Sam out of this place."

"That may be a more considerable amount of time than you are estimating Dean." Castiel told him.

"I know, but we will."

"You know," Paul tilted his head at Dean, "Concordia is only twenty miles away. Only, if you need anything, or you don't want to drive all the way to Lebanon. Either of you are welcome to the sofa at mine, or if you need anything at Wal-Mart?"

"Thanks Paul. For now we are good." Dean moved a little closer to Castiel.

Paul smiled. "I can see that. Dean I got to go, face the music and report back. You still got my number? Well use it dude. I want updates on Sam, OK?"

"OK." Dean stepped up and clasped his uninjured arm, "Thanks."

Paul leaned down and whispered in Dean's ear on the far side from Castiel, "It is worth it. Every blow, every dagger, hold on to him."

"You too." Dean called after the departing fire-fighter.

Castiel didn't ask about Paul. Dean didn't talk about him. They napped in the chairs. One of the nurses who had wheeled Sam in on the gurney came and gave them the gift of two slices of a birthday cake from the staff room.

Dean paused with the last forkful in his hand and dropped the cake back onto the paper plate.

"I forgot."

"Whaa?" Castiel mumbled around his mouthful.

"I forgot Sam's birthday."

"Birthdays are important?"

"We don't make much of them. We never did. But it was his 30th. I should have remembered. It was the day we sewed Abaddon back together. I could have cooked him something special. 30 is a big one, you know."

"What did Sam do for yours?" Castiel asked innocently.

"Nuthin. He was off sucking Ruby's blood and pussy or whatever. I spent it with you."

Castiel's eyes widened like blue icy discs. "You did?"

"Yeah, in the hospital in Cheyenne. You stayed, even though I'd freaking cried my girlie eyes out the night before."

"I remember."

"Still thirty is a landmark for Sam, I should've remembered."

"You do know that he is over a hundred and sixty."

"Well I'm 74, but we don't count hell." Dean's eyes glazed over as he pushed the barb of the way the years were marked in hell, and the memory of Alastair in Cheyenne, out of his mind.

"I apologize Dean. I need to adapt to human concepts of time and anniversaries. I'm quite old myself."

Dean's mood lifted. Castiel could do that to him; make a simple statement that caused awe, incredulity or amusement. "Come 'ere."

Castiel moved his chair closer to Dean, who threw an arm around him. He planted his lips into Castiel's messy hair. It was their first kiss. Not their first kiss joined together but the first kiss Dean had permitted himself to give his angel.

"Mr Lawrence?"

They pulled apart. A slim doctor in scrubs with blond curls pulled back in a hair band came over to them. "I'm Doctor Elaine Larson. I'm Sam's hematologist. Your brother is in recovery. We do not yet have a diagnosis for his symptoms but we believe it is auto-immune in nature. We have taken bloods and a bone marrow test. We are testing for Sarcoidosis, Tuberculosis, Aplastic anemia, and HIV. His lungs were flooded but no nodules were present. Has he ever suffered from a blow to the head or a severe fall?"

"Yeah, both." Dean answered.

"Recently? In the last few months?"

Dean remembered the scratches on Sam and his torn shirt. He wondered if things had gotten heated with Crowley.

Castiel gave Dean a look, "Doctor, Sam was on a road trip with my partner. Dean do you recall anything recent?"

"He collapsed in our hotel in Colorado. I found him burning up. He had a fever but it faded. He has not been well. We were on our way home. He has been coughing blood and not really eating or sleeping."

"Any dizziness?"

"Yeah." Dean had a flashback of his little brother stumbling around the bunker.

"Thank you Mr..?"

"Winchester." Having Paul know he was there meant using a fake ID was pointless.

"When Sam is moved to a room in the LTC building a nurse will find you, Mr Lawrence."

"LTC?" Castiel tilted his head.

"It is the adjoining building." The doctor pointed out the window. "it is for our patients who require more than a brief stay."

"Thank you." Dean shook her hand impregnating the words with his gratitude. Castiel followed with a silent handshake.

"I will see you both again." Dr Larson nodded.

Time seemed to crawl by until they were taken across a windy car lot to the LTC building. Sam was in his own room. His gigantor gaunt frame was too large for the slender twin bed. Dean took a chair and held his brother's hand while Castiel stared out the window. At 5pm they were kicked out. They were told they could return between 7pm and 8pm and then not again until 11am.

Dean railed against the restrictive visiting hours and the ridiculous illnesses they were testing Sam for when he knew that his brother had demon-tablet-trial-itis. Castiel nodded as Dean spoke around his food at the Dairy Queen. Cas listened while he took apart his own meal, examined the individual components and put it back together to his liking.

At 8pm they hit the road to Lebanon. Dean needed to get Sam some clean clothes and things. He needed to check in on Kevin, to see if he could reach Garth, and to call Charlie. He needed to text Paul and to go to sleep.

Castie stood so close Dean thought he might trip over the ex-angel as they trudged up to the bunker door. The key was pulled from his hand and Castiel opened the lock. Dean called out for Kevin, but the runaway prophet had fled. A note said he had taken the angel tablet and a postscript told Dean that alarms had sounded in the bunker. Dean knew he should care, but he couldn't find the energy.

An hour later, after dutifully leaving voicemails all round, Dean slumped over the kitchen counter. Castiel put a scotch in his hand and Dean knocked it back.

"To bed?" Dean asked. He was thinking that packing a hospital bag for Sam could wait until morning.

"Where am I to sleep? I could take a chair in the library?" Castiel looked lost.

"Freaking hell!" Dean grabbed Castiel by the coat lapel and crushed their mouths together. Castiel's lips parted in surprise and Dean used that as an open invitation. Then he was pushed hard against the kitchen wall, and it was all Castiel. His denim shirt was ripped off, leaving only the plaid and his tee. Castiel's tongue was determinedly pressing his own aside. Cas pulled on Dean's top lip with his teeth and his hand found the back of the hunter's neck pulling them closer together. They broke, both inhaling deeply through their noses. Dean's lip throbbed.

"That was…" Castiel gasped.

"Awesome?" Dean suggested.

"Yes. It was awesome." Castiel looked down at his tented trousers, "I seem to be aroused in a sexual way."

Dean was half hard. He quirked a grin, "Not like a Ken Doll anymore, hey Cas?"

"I wish you would not compare me to mass produced plastic representations for children's amusement. I am functioning as a human male, and I am experiencing sensations."

"Wanna do something about that?"

"My knowledge is limited."

"Hey no PhD in gay relations over here, dude." Dean pulled Castiel in close so their bodies lined up. The pressure of Cas's erection caused his own balls to tighten, but it didn't feel right. It wasn't Cas's fault.

"I'm not… we… not tonight with Sam."

"I know."

"I want to with you, Cas, but…."

"I know, Dean."

Dean's hard on was gone. Thoughts of Sam lying there hit him. He looked at Castiel's blown pupils and held out a hand palm up. Castiel took it and Dean led them down the hallway to his room. Dean didn't know if it was Castiel's first glimpse of his personal piece of space, but he suspected that he may have done his watching Dean sleep thing.

"It is perfect, Dean. I like your room."

"Our room." Dean helped Castiel to remove his coat and suit. He carefully folded the trench coat noticing mud splatter on the ends. Castiel was going to need changes of clothes. He sent Cas for a shower and found a spare set of sleep shorts and tee.

He made quick work of his own shower and returned to find Cas sitting on the right side of the bed looking all at sea.

"We are going to have to get you kitted out with some clothes, man." Dean sighed and Cas just nodded. He extolled the virtues of memory foam while Castiel continued to sit stiffly on the edge.

"Cas, come on man. I won't sleep if you are going to play mannequin."

The new human moved to get in next to Dean with jerky movements.

"What's wrong Cas?"

"I'm sorry, sorry that I couldn't heal him for you. I'm pretty useless now." Castiel hung his head.

"Don't say that. Your grace couldn't heal the damage, remember?"

"If you are injured I won't be able to heal you."

"So?"

"and I'm unsure."

"About me?" Dean thought he just might shrink down to the size of a gnat if Castiel said yes.

"No, never of you Dean. I don't know how to do this." Castiel made a sweeping motion over the bed, "I do understand we will not be having sexual intercourse tonight."

Dean choked a little.

"What do you expect of me?" Castiel intoned.

"Lie here with me. Be here. Don't leave me."

"I can do that." Castiel lay down facing Dean.

"Good. We're good then." Dean rested a hand on Castiel's side under the ruched up tee, on his bare skin.

"Good Dean, very good."

Despite sharing worried thoughts of Sam, they fell asleep with Dean's hand in its place and the back of Castiel's fingers leaning on Dean's chest.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPSNPSPN

A/N:

Damien Rice: Canonball ...You step a little closer each day So close that I can't see what's going on Stones taught me to fly Love taught me to lie Life taught me to die So it's not hard to fall When you float like a cannonball... About Sam... this is not a death fic... Sam needs a bit of time and medical treatment of his symptoms to heal his demon-tablet-trial-itis