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It’s new, seeing Castiel sick.
Dean tries not to think anything of it, but he can’t help but worry. In the years they’ve known each other, the only times Castiel has been ill are when he took on Sam’s psychosis and when Pestilence caused his sickness. He was only part human and full angel, but now… now he’s completely human. He’s sick , and Dean is nothing less than paranoid.
Sam tries to tell him to calm down, it’s just the flu , but Castiel hasn’t dealt with any of this, and it’s in Dean’s nature to protect his friends. So, Hell if Dean isn’t going to help Castiel.
Dean sends Sam to the closest store to the Bunker to pick up medicine, soup, and other things he thinks of while he’s there. He hurries back to his bedroom where Castiel is holed up. He sighs just looking at him. Pale, stuffy, weak. It’s so unlike him. He’s an angel . He’s not supposed to be weak. He pulls up a chair to the bed and nudges his friend’s shoulder, urging him to wake up. Castiel groans.
“I know, I know, but it’s better to be awake and counteract your sickness with, I don’t know, a shower, or exercise, and food. Sleeping just makes it go away for a little while, but then it’s back again.” Dean tries to assure him.
“This is quite annoying,” Castiel replies with a nasally voice. “I find it hard to breathe, swallow, or think, really.”
“Yeah, the flu sucks, man. Sam’s out right now getting some medicine, alright?” God, he wants to hold his hand so bad. Does he really want to risk the flu, though? Probably. His mind’s telling him no. “Hey, cheer up, Cas. You’ll be better in a few days.”
Castiel lets his head fall back onto the three pillows stacked behind him. “That seems like a very long time.”
“Compare four days to how old you are, though. Not that long when you think about it. You’ll be good as new soon.”
“I hope so.”
Dean messes around on his laptop while Castiel sleeps. Fifteen minutes later, Sam returns and hands Dean a couple grocery bags with everything he needs and more. He wordlessly thanks his brother and the younger Winchester leaves them. Dean gently wakes Castiel up again, this time with better news.
“Hey, here, medicine! And uh, a thermometer, a heating pad, uh… I don’t know what half of this stuff is, but I’m sure all of it can help you.”
“Thank you, Dean.”
“Shh, just rest. Try not to talk so much.” Dean fills the little cup with the appropriate amount of medicine and helps Castiel drink it. He makes a scrunched up face and squints. “Yeah, I know the taste is fucking horrible, but that’s why you wash it down with-“
“A spoonful of sugar?” Dean scoffs.
“So, you’ve seen Mary Poppins but not Indiana Jones, ‘cause that makes sense.”
Castiel manages a smile and Dean blushes, smiling back warmly. He takes Castiel’s temperature, and helps make him more comfortable with less blankets.
“How is it that I’m both warm and cold?”
“It’s just a fever, Cas. They suck, but you gotta deal with the cold for a little while until your temperature goes down.”
Castiel pouts and Dean goes to the restroom, washes a small towel in cold water, and returns, gently dabbing Castiel’s face with it. “Feel good?”
“Better, yes.”
Dean smiles happily and kisses Castiel’s forehead, despite his brain’s warning. He decides not to tell him right away the flu is contagious; that will only stress him out more. He holds Castiel’s hand and plays the first Indiana Jones movie on his laptop. Dean ends up getting into bed with him, which Castiel makes clear is much more comfortable than being in bed alone.
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Sam walks in a half an hour later, and both Dean and Castiel are fast asleep. He sighs, turning the laptop off and setting it on Dean’s dresser. Before he leaves, he smiles gently. “He better not come crying to me when he catches the flu.”