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Summary
“Please tell me you have good news,” he said and the bed dipped as Sam sat down next to him, both pairs of eyes fixed on the angel.
“Sort of,” Sam sighed and Dean groaned. Things never really could be simple for them.
“I described.... well, that-” he gestured towards Castiel, whose head snapped up as if on cue, eyes once more flitting wildly around the room, “-and the first thing Bobby thought of? Ghost sickness.”
In which Castiel literally tried to get into Dean's bed, if only to burrow under the covers to hide. Of course, ghost sickness isn't just fun and games or in Dean's case, having an all-mighty angel of the lord cuddle up to you for protection.