Chapter Text
A steady beeping filled Cas’s ears, a rhythmic sound cutting through the fog of unconsciousness. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the faint hum of fluorescent lights told him everything he needed to know—he was in the hospital.
So much for avoiding this place.
The low murmur of voices nearby confirmed his suspicions. Sam and Dean were close, their tones quiet but familiar. The soft slap of cards hitting a table punctuated their conversation, and Cas could almost picture them: Sam’s brow furrowed in concentration as Dean smirked, bluffing his way through yet another hand.
Cas let the sounds wash over him, grounding him in the present. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since his collapse, but his body felt heavy, weighed down by fatigue. His stomach still ached, though the sharp pangs had dulled to a manageable throb.
He knew the moment he stirred, Dean would be at his side, fussing over him like always. The thought warmed him, but guilt crept in just as quickly. Dean didn’t deserve this—another mess to clean up, another burden to bear.
The scrape of chairs broke his thoughts. “I’m grabbing a coffee. Want one?”
“Yeah, I’ll join you,” Dean said
Cas’s heart sank at the thought of being left alone, even for a moment. Slowly, carefully, he cracked his eyes open, letting the bright hospital light filter in just a sliver.
“Dean,” he rasped, voice barely audible. His throat felt dry and raw, each syllable scraping against it. “Sam.”
Dean was beside him in an instant, his hand warm as it cupped Cas’s cheek. Relief softened his features, and a small smile broke through the tension etched into his face. “Hey, angel,” Dean murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to Cas’s forehead, then to each cheek. “Feelin’ any better?”
“I said no hospitals,” Cas complained.
Dean chuckled softly, “Yeah, well, you don’t get much of a vote when you’re so dehydrated that you’re slurring your words.” Dean reached down to hold Cas’s hand. “You scared the hell outta me.”
“My apologies.
“You’ve been out for two days,” Sam told him. “The doctors said it was a good thing we brought you in. You could’ve died.”
Cas blinked slowly, his brow furrowing at the information. Two days. The fog in his mind began to clear, fragments of memory falling into place. The sickness. The bathroom. The dizziness. The blood.
Dean’s grip on his hand tightened, pulling him from the spiral of thoughts. “Yeah, well, he didn’t,” Dean said firmly, cutting off the conversation. His jaw clenched as he looked back at Cas, his gaze steady and unwavering. “You’re gonna be just fine, angel. Now get some more rest up, so we can get you back home.”
Cas gave him a small, appreciative smile and let his eyes close again, exhaustion already tugging at him. Dean’s hand remained a solid presence in his, grounding him as he drifted back into a light sleep, comforted by the quiet assurance that he wasn’t alone.
~~~
“Straight to bed,” Dean said firmly, guiding Cas carefully out of the Impala and through the bunker’s door. His arm was steady around Cas’s waist, keeping him upright. “Doctor’s orders. You need rest.”
“I’d like to shower first.”
Dean shook his head. “Not happening. Last time I left you alone, you ended up face-first on the bathroom floor.”
Cas’s brows knitted together in frustration, but the pleading in his tired eyes softened his expression. “Please, Dean,” he said quietly. “I feel disgusting.” The remnants of sweat and sickness clinging to his skin was unbearable. “I won’t be able to rest like this.”
Dean groaned, running a hand down his face. “You’re killing me, sweatheart,” he muttered. After a pause—and one look at Cas’s big puppy eyes—he relented. “Fine. But I’m running you a bath, and you’re eating something first.” He fixed Cas with a pointed look. “Deal?”
Cas nodded reluctantly. “Deal.”
Dean’s lips curled into a sly grin. “Good. You know the rules—you gotta seal a deal with a kiss.” He leaned in, their foreheads brushing as Cas pressed a soft kiss to his lips, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite his exhaustion.
Dean brought Cas into the kitchen and pushed him down into a seat before handing him a banana and a bottle of Powerade. “Small bites, small sips,” he instructed, leaning against the counter as he watched Cas closely.
Cas eyed the food warily but complied, taking a cautious bite. He chewed and swallowed slowly, testing his stomach’s tolerance. To his surprise, it stayed down, and the cool, slightly sweet drink eased the dryness in his throat.
When he was finished, Dean helped him up again and brought him to the bathroom, sitting him on the edge of the tub as he crouched and ran a lukewarm bath.
When Dean stood to help Cas out of his clothes, Cas stiffened. “I can manage,” he muttered, his tone half-hearted.
Dean gave him a look, one that brokered no argument. “You’re not passing out on my watch. I don’t want you doing too much, too fast.”
The reminder of his earlier collapse silenced Cas’s protests. “Okay,” he said softly, allowing Dean to help him undress. Dean lowered him gently into the tub, the water lapping at his skin. Cas sighed, a sound of pure relief, as the warmth began to ease the lingering aches in his muscles. “I can bathe myself,” he muttered halfheartedly when Dean grabbed a washcloth.
Dean arched an eyebrow. “Yeah? And if you get dizzy and slip under, what then?” He leaned in, dabbing the washcloth against Cas’s face with practiced gentleness. He was careful not to disturb his bruised nose or the stitches decorating his forehead. “Just relax, okay? Let me take care of you.”
Cas exhaled a quiet breath of surrender as Dean worked, his movements deliberate and soothing. When Dean squirted shampoo into his palm and began massaging it into Cas’s hair, Cas couldn’t hold back a contented sigh.
“You like that, huh?” Dean teased.
“I like everything you do, Dean,” Cas murmured.
Dean chuckled, his fingers threading through Cas’s damp hair as he rinsed out the suds. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
Switching to body wash, Dean worked methodically, his touch gentle as he cleaned every inch of Cas’s skin. Cas leaned into his care, the tension in his body melting away with each pass of the washcloth.
By the time the bath was over—far sooner than Cas would have liked—he felt a sense of calm he hadn’t experienced in days. Dean helped him out of the tub, wrapping him in a towel and drying him off quickly to keep the chill at bay.
“Brush your teeth,” Dean instructed, stepping out briefly.
He returned moments later with a pair of boxers, sweatpants, and one of his own hoodies. Cas slipped into them, smiling faintly at how the too-big hoodie engulfed him. It felt like being wrapped in Dean’s arms.
Dean guided Cas to bed, pulling back the covers and helping him settle in before climbing in beside him. Without hesitation, Dean pulled Cas close, his arm draped around his waist.
He pressed a kiss to Cas’s nose, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “How about burgers for dinner tomorrow?”
Cas scowled, grabbing a pillow and swatting him with it. “Veganism seems like the safer option.”
Dean laughed, catching the pillow before it could strike again. “C’mon, angel. Eating rabbit food all the time is no fun. Why do you think Sam’s so grouchy?”
“Throwing up my intestines isn’t fun either,” Cas pointed out dryly.
“Touché,” Dean conceded, leaning in to capture Cas’s lips in a soft kiss.
After a moment, Cas pulled back slightly, eyes warm. “Thank you, Dean. For everything.”
Dean smiled, thumb brushing against Cas’s cheek. “I’ll always take care of you,” he promised. “And I’ll take my payment in cuddles and kisses.”
Cas chuckled, his smile growing. For the first time in days, he felt like himself again. “I think we can work something out.”