Chapter 5: Changes
Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away
Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping
-"Into the West" by Annie Lennox
Castiel lay curled up under layers of blankets and feathers. It was late spring, but he was freezing! It made no sense whatsoever. He was used to being cold during his nights as a slave where body heat was the only thing to keep you warm, but here in Fortuna? It was absolutely ridiculous! Especially under the mountain of blankets he had smothered himself in.
He had woken numerous times last night to continue grabbing more and more blankets in hopes to warm up. No such luck. It was nearly daybreak, and he still felt like the ice his masters in Tenebrae made him fill their drinks with. He supposed there were still a few blankets left in the linen closet he could grab…rooming with a king did have its perks.
He peeked out from his textile fortress to glance at the king. Dean, he reminded himself. The past few weeks in his presence left him comfortable enough to at least call him that in his head. Dean seemed to be sleeping perfectly fine in his own bed.
It had been decided shortly after their unusually intimate night that Castiel should stay in Dean's room in case he had any more nightmares. (Unbeknownst to Castiel, another large factor had been that neither the Dean nor Sam had the heart to make him switch rooms after he'd gotten himself so comfortable in there.) They had also decided that the angel was there as a permanent guest of sorts, so it wouldn't be proper for him to share a bed with the king. In light of this, they had another one moved to the king's suite so they could cohabit the room without sleeping in each other's embrace.
Although right now Castiel was wondering if Dean's body heat could possibly warm him up. He quickly pushed the thought away, as it would be inappropriate, and instead shoved his face under the blankets again. He didn't understand why he was so cold- it was so hot in his position that he was sweating! He whimpered piteously and prayed for God to have mercy on him and end his suffering.
Besides being terribly cold, there was a dull ache in the back of his head he couldn't explain, although perhaps it was due to his lack of sleep. That didn't seem right however, seeing as it had first appeared in the middle of the night, before he'd really gotten very tired at all. He also felt very weak. He had never exactly felt strong before, but his time in Fortuna had resulted in him being the healthiest he had ever been since his childhood.
"Blue Eyes? You okay?" he heard a muffled voice above him. He barely managed to open his eyes before Dean peeled back the shield of fabric protecting his face. They drifted shut soon after when he the man held his warm hand to the angel's forehead.
"You have a fever," he muttered disapprovingly, making Castiel's eyes snap open. The king turned away to leave, but the angel grabbed his arm before he got the chance.
He whined loudly, unable to bring himself to actually use words. If grabbing Dean's arm hadn't gotten his attention, this certainly did. This was without a doubt, the noisiest he had ever heard the angel. Castiel didn't even have the strength to hold back his tears, so they poured down the side of his face.
He knew what happened to angels when they got sick. The masters put them down like dogs. A sick angel was useless to them. They could infect the other slaves, and that would be no goof at all. Spreading disease was not tolerable. Plus, most angels only got sick when they were close to their death. They were literally just dead weight to them.
He remembered his brothers and sisters being dragged away to die. Normally a healthy angel couldn't be killed by humans. There were no healthy angels anymore though. Most slaves were malnourished as it was, adding disease only made it worse. They were all so weak that humans could kill them even if they weren't ill. There was always the risk that a master might lose their temper and lash out forcefully enough to kill them, but it was- for the most part- just a possibility. Getting sick was a sure ticket to death. Either the masters would slit your throat or they would chuck you into a pit and abandon you to starve to death.
He didn't want either of those to happen to him. He liked it here in this country. He liked the food, the sleep, and the nice people. He liked Sam and Dean. Once, he might have resigned himself to such a fate, welcomed it even. He wasn't ready to give up life anymore- not now that he had finally learned there were things to live for.
If the fever hadn't made him so delirious he probably would have realized that Sam and Dean would never do such things to him, especially over such a silly reason. Unfortunately his brain was scrambled like eggs, so it didn't occur to him.
All he knew was that he was sick, and Dean was unhappy about it. He tugged weakly on the king's wrist, begging him wordlessly for his life.
Dean stood frozen in shock. He may not have known the angel for very long, but this behavior was far from normal. Normally the angel was as quiet as a mouse, and although he was rather timid, he never seemed this distressed- barring perhaps their first night together. Was this how all angels acted when they were sick? They had fallen so into routine these past few weeks that the man had nearly forgotten what a mystery angels were to him.
Now, Dean had never been considered to be a touchy feely kind of person, so he was at a complete loss of what to do.
Sure, last time he had held Blue Eyes until they both fell asleep, but that was different. For one thing, Dean had been exhausted and was therefore unaccountable for his actions. Plus he had experience chasing away his little brother's bad dreams. Sam, however, had never reacted so horrified over getting a little sick, so he had no experience to help in this situation. He wasn't sure anybody had any experience with whatever the hell was going on with Blue Eyes.
He full-heartedly wished the angel had come with a manual or something.
"Hey, it's uh, it's okay. You'll be fine. I'm just gonna get you some water, alright?" he said, running his free hand nervously over the back of his neck. He quickly detached the angel from his arm and fled the room. The low keening he heard in his wake spurred him to go faster so he could return sooner.
He cursed the fact he'd never thought of keeping a pitcher of water at his bedside before. Sure, Jo always left one there when she knew he was going to have a massive hangover, but he'd never considered keeping one there as a permanent fixture. He would feel a lot less guilty right now if he had. No, instead he was sprinting down to the kitchens at an ungodly hour. The sun was just rising for fuck's sake!
His tiredness was less important than the well being of Blue Eyes though, so he shoved it aside and took the stairs five or six at a time.
When he burst into the kitchens, the servants scuttled aside in a panic- after all, why would they expect the king to show up running as if from a fire first thing in the morning?
After about five seconds of frantically searching for a glass, he realized he didn't know where a damn thing was in the kitchens. In fact, now that he thought about it, he probably hadn't set foot in the kitchens for years. Not since he was a kid trying to sneak treats out of there with Sammy.
Man, he missed being a kid.
"Dean Winchester, king or not, you better have a good reason for coming in here before we've even got the fires going," Ellen told him.
"Water! I need water!" he exclaimed, swinging his hands to and fro as he continued to search.
Ellen sighed loudly. "Child, stop that right now your head unscrews itself from your shoulders. I'll get it for you. Do you just want a glass, or do you need a pitcher as well?"
"A pitcher! A pitcher would be fantastic!"
"Alright, alright, here you go," she said, filling a pitcher from who knows where with cold water and handing him a glass to go with it.
Dean soon found himself sprinting back up the hallways doing his utmost best not to let too much of the liquid slosh over the sides and out of the pitcher.
He skidded to a stop outside of his quarters to catch his breath. Fortunately he had left the doors wide open when he left, so he didn't have to worry about them getting in his way.
He listened carefully before stepping inside. All he heard was the chirping of birds waking at first, when he listened closer he could also make out soft sniffling as well. Taking careful steps he made his way further into the bedroom.
The angel lay crumpled under the covers face down, slight body shaking gently. His wings were half curled around his rumpled form.
"Blue Eyes?" he asked quietly, setting the pitcher and glass on the nightstand so he could place a hand on the angel's shoulder.
Castiel startled at the touch and whipped his head up to look at the king to confirm that he was really there.
Dean in turn was startled by how puffy and red the other's eyes were. He supposed he shouldn't really be surprised since that's what happens when people cried for a long time, but for some reason he hadn't expected to see it on the angel. He hadn't noticed it last time. Then again, it had been dark and he hadn't actually looked much at his face at the time. It just…made him seem so human.
It sounded stupid when he put it that way though, Blue Eyes ate, slept, acted just as anybody else would in the circumstances. The only thing that set him apart from humans were the great wings on his back.
"I've got some water for you," he finally said, fumbling to pour the angel a glass.
Castiel sat up and scooted over to allow the king to take a seat next to him. Tentatively he took the glass and drank from it, grateful to feel the cold liquid soothing his burning throat. He let the king pour him another glass before falling back to the mattress in exhaustion.
The water made him feel marginally better, but his head still felt foggy, and his whole body seemed to ache. Being sick felt terrible. He was sure that even if the masters wouldn't have slain him for his poor health, he would merely have died from sheer exhaustion.
As it was, he felt quite lucky to be placed with the king in Fortuna instead.
He felt the king pry his hands off the glass and heard the dull thud of it hit the nightstand. A warm hand brushed his unruly hair back from his forehead, and he closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling.
The king had nice hands. They were always warm. They weren't soft though, as many of his masters' in Tenebrae had been. No, his hands had a rougher texture, dry and calloused. No matter how rough they were on the surface though, they were always very gentle with Castiel.
His eyes blinked open slowly, staring at the king. It seemed surreal that he had wound up here with such kind humans to take care of him. He simply couldn't believe it. Why would a king lower himself to tend to a mere slave? It made no sense. His masters in Tenebrae wouldn't even take care of each other. The people here were so very different.
Some of his trepidation must have shown on his face because the next thing he knew the king had gathered him up into his lap and was singing slowly and softly into his ear.
"Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Hey Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better
And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
Hey Jude, don't let me down
You have found her, now go and get her
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin
You're waiting for someone to perform with
And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do
The movement you need is on your shoulder
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah yeah
Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her under your skin
Then you'll begin to make it
Better …"
Dean peered down at the angel as he trailed off, watching as the other's eyes eventually closed and his breathing evened out. He didn't know why he started singing that to Blue Eyes. He supposed it was because it was always what his mother did for him when he was younger. He was glad Blue Eyes had responded so well- it would have been extraordinarily awkward if the angel hadn't. What the hell had he been thinking? Who scoops other people up and starts singing to them? Seriously, the last time he did that was when Sammy was like 5. The longer he stayed around Blue Eyes the more he found himself doing things he would never have found himself doing normally. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.
He laid the sleeping angel back onto the bed, taking care not to jostle him and wake him as he tucked him in under the mountain of blankets covering the mattress. Seeing him look so peaceful and- dare he say it- content was starting to make him think that good or not, he didn't mind the change all that much.
A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE. I don't even have a good excuse. It's been like 98% written since like June. I was just too lazy to look up the lyrics to Hey Jude, and also I got a tumblr, so basically I haven't done anything with my life since then. But holy crap I haven't updated this story in almost a year, and somehow these poor people keep finding it. Clearly they had no idea what they were getting into. Or they did and just hoped it would get updated eventually, as I sometimes do when I look at fics that haven't been updated in a loooong time. So look at that- you guys will still be getting updates from me! No promises on how long they'll take though lol... I feel so bad, it's not even like extra long to make up for the absence... oh well. I also apologize for the plot because I have literally no idea what I'm doing with it. So it'll be a surprise for everybody when it finally shows up. And no, I do not have a good explanation for why they would have Hey Jude in their world, and there's about a 200% chance I never will.