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It had started as a few simple sneezes. Nothing too suspicious. Cas had shrugged it off, reassuring Dean from his spot in the passenger's seat. Since being rescued from the Empty and becoming human, he sneezed more.
"Probably just allergies. Pollen and dust, you know," Dean had said, squeezing Cas' thigh softly before focusing back on the road.
After the reassuring touch, Cas had let the conversation shift away to something else. Dean wasn't worried, so why should he be? A few sneezes didn't mean anything.
Until a few days later.
When the sneezes turned into an all out war.
Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. But it definitely felt like an internal war to Cas.
Being sick, Cas determined, was worse than anything he could possibly remember experiencing. Over the milenna, he'd raised cities from beneath the seas, battled armies long lost to civilizations, but it seemed this simple influenza virus had him beaten. Everything ached; his chest, his head, his nose, his throat. What had started as a small amount of pain in the back of his throat had morphed into something so bad he couldn't even swallow without wincing in pain.
Dropping another used tissue into the mound piling up by the bed, Cas snuffled and buried his head into the pillow. Screw being human. If this is what it felt like to be sick, Cas decided deliriously that he certainly, absolutely, and completely did not want to be human anymore .
The bedroom door creaked open, and light spilled in from the hallway. "Cas, sweetheart, are you awake?" Dean's voice cut through the air and curled into the blanket cocoon Cas had made for himself.
He poked his head out from his shelter, pouting at Dean before making a humming sound in confirmation. Even that hurt. He let out a quiet whine of pain, and Dean was instantly at his side, stroking fingers through his sweat-slick hair.
"I made you some soup, if you want to try it?" Dean's quiet voice soothed, and Cas yearned to bury himself into the warmth of Dean's affection.
"No," Cas said, voice cracking on the word and making him wince all over again. The body next to him tensed, and Cas belatedly realized the tone he'd used. "Threw up while you were in the kitchen."
"I’m sorry, Angel," Dean murmured, sliding down until he was lying next to Cas.
"Not an Angel anymore," Cas said, chest constricting at the very real reminder he really was human now. Flesh and bone and breakable. Fragile and vulnerable. He hated it. Tears stung the back of his eyes, and he buried his head into Dean's chest.
A hand soothed into his hair again and Dean's quiet voice hummed in his ear. "You're still my Angel. Always will be. Even when you're sick as a dog."
"That doesn't even make sense," Cas rasped out, attempting to clear his throat afterwards and sending himself into a coughing fit.
The hand in his hair moved down to his back, rubbing circles across his spine. "Stop talking. You're making it worse. How about a sip of water?"
Cas' stomach rolled at the thought of fluids, but his throat burned for the cool relief. After a second's hesitation where he debated if it was worth it, he finally nodded against Dean's chest. "Okay," he whispered. The bed shifted and Cas felt Dean pressing a cold bottle of water in between the blanket mound. He shrunk back at the freezing touch against his skin, but dutifully unscrewed the cap and took a couple small sips before pushing the bottle towards Dean.
“Thank you,” Dean said quietly, shifting again until he could pull Cas closer.
Cas let him, closing his eyes and letting the heat from Dean’s body radiate towards him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew cuddling this close to Dean was a bad idea, but it felt so good to have Dean’s arms around him; soothing away the pain. “Gonna get you sick,” Cas forced himself to say, even though his exhausted brain was begging Dean to stay right where he was.
Dean huffed, lips brushing along his temple in a faint kiss. “I don’t really care. This isn’t my first time taking care of someone with the flu. I’ll take the risk if it means being here with you.”
The words wrapped around Cas’ chest and for just a brief second, the thick heaviness felt a little lighter. How he got so lucky to have Dean in his life, Cas would never know. Opening his mouth to murmur something, he was cut off when a quiet beeping echoed in the room. He cast his eyes to Dean, the sound feeling even louder in the room than it should’ve.
Dean switched off the alarm on his phone and reached over to the bedside table to pick up the bottle of liquid medicine he’d been forcing into him since yesterday. “It’s that time.”
“No,” Cas winced, burying his forehead- which suddenly felt hot again- against Dean’s neck. “I hate it.”
“Grape flavor was all they had. I’ll try and get some more tomorrow in a better flavor. But you really need to take this now,” Dean coaxed, trying to push them up the bed so they could rest together against the headboard.
“No.”
The sigh Dean let out was caught somewhere between exasperated and sympathetic. “Please, Cas. For me?”
God, Cas hated it when Dean hit him with that line. Mostly because Dean knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for him. Swallowing and grimacing at the pain still lingering in his throat, he let Dean push the capful of medicine into his hand, and he forced the thick fluid down with a choked noise of disapproval. The taste burned, and he found himself in the midst of another coughing fit. When Dean’s hand appeared in his vision with the water bottle, he didn’t go through the effort of arguing again; just took it, gulped down some of the water, and collapsed back against Dean’s body.
Shuffling them around, Dean settled them more comfortably before dropping another kiss to the top of Cas’ head. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured into Cas’ hair.
Was the room suddenly spinning? Or was that medicine stronger than Cas remembered it being earlier? Squeezing his eyes shut, he gripped tighter to Dean and snuggled in until his body was intertwined with Dean’s. He didn’t want Dean to go. Wanted to be curled up in Dean’s arms and to pretend this flu wasn’t happening.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dean said, fingers running through Cas’ hair before readjusting the blankets so there was less of a pile on top of them.
Had he asked Dean to stay out loud? Or was Dean just reading his mind? And why was he taking the blankets away? He was freezing cold.
“You’re gonna be hot soon, and I don’t want you to overheat from the fever,” Dean explained.
Definitely reading minds then. Maybe the flu made the brain vulnerable to outside forces? Like mind reading. Yep. That definitely made sense. Dean was 100% in his mind right now. Maybe rifling through his deepest desires. Not that he’d find anything he didn’t already know; all Cas’ desires revolved around Dean anyway.
Why would Dean want to be in his mind anyway? Why was the room so hot? Wait- where was Dean?
Suddenly a cold towel was against his forehead and Cas sighed in relief; the hot serpent in his veins slinking away back into his chest to wait for its next strike.
“I’ve got you. Go to sleep, beautiful,” Dean’s voice soothed next to his ear as cold rivlets of water crept down his neck.
Cas’ last conscious thoughts were of the word ‘ beautiful .’ That couldn’t possibly be about him. There was only one beautiful person in the entire universe, and it was Dean Winchester. Always beautiful. Always Dean Winchester.
~
When Cas blinked his eyes open again, the room was pitch black; any light from the window long gone as day passed into night. Had it been daytime when he fell asleep? Or maybe evening? How long had he been asleep?
Why had he woken up?
Dean’s hands stroked along his spine again, slower this time as his voice pressed into his hair. “Cas?”
Cas grumbled, torn between leaning into the soft touch and pulling away for being woken up. His brain was slowly clicking into place as the world grew less fuzzy around him, and he finally knew what Dean was rousing him for. “No,” he said, words scratching on their way past his lips.
“C’mon. Please? It’s the only way to make you feel better,” Dean said softly. Still so gentle even when Cas was being deliberately difficult.
“No,” Cas repeated, shuffling away from Dean’s embrace. The coldness on the other side of the mattress wasn’t soothing at all. Just gripping and hollow.
Dean’s arms encircled around his waist again, and he dropped a kiss to the back of Cas’ neck. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“Liar,” Dean huffed, the ghost of his breath cooling down the hot stickiness of Cas’ skin.
“Don’t want the medicine.”
“You’re gonna continue to be stubborn then, are you?” Dean asked, nudging his knee across the back of Cas’ legs.
Closing his eyes again, Cas let out a sharp breath. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, Dean wouldn’t make him take more of that god-awful concoction he called medicine.
“Alright then, let’s go,” Dean said suddenly, pulling away from Cas and moving to stand up from the bed.
Cas instantly panicked at the loss of contact, turning over to find Dean in the darkness. “Dean?” he tried, voice breaking on the name.
“I’m right here. I just want you to come with me,” Dean said, switching the lamp on and walking to the other side of the bed before crouching down so he was at eye level with Cas.
“Don’t wanna leave the bed. Tired,” Cas said, closing his eyes again and trying desperately to shut out the light which really wasn’t that bright but it sure as hell felt like it was.
Gently, Dean pressed a kiss to his forehead and lingered there; lips soft and comforting in a way that made Cas’ heart lurch. “How about a deal? I want you to follow me. If I can surprise you and distract you from being sick for a few minutes, you have to take your medicine. If I fail, then you don’t have to take your medicine.”
Cracking an eye open, Cas peered at Dean. What kind of a deal was that? What did that even mean?
“Do you trust me?” Dean repeated, fingers stroking damp hair back from his forehead.
Earlier, he’d said no. But they both knew that wasn’t true. He trusted Dean with everything in his being. “Yes,” Cas finally muttered, sniffling and reaching for another tissue.
Dean handed him a clean one along with the now lukewarm bottle of water from earlier. He waited ever-so-patiently for Cas to blow his nose and drink a couple mouthfuls of water before he spoke again. “Okay. Give me your hand.”
Hesitantly, Cas linked his hand with Dean’s and he let his lover gently tug him out of his nest of blankets. Grabbing the trenchcoat from the chair in the corner of the room, Dean draped it around Cas’ shoulders before looping an arm around the former-angel’s waist. “Let’s go.”
Quietly, Dean led them through the house, stopping and picking up a box of tissues, more medicine, and more water. “Still feeling nauseous?” Dean asked.
Cas shook his head. “Don’t want to eat.”
Dean smiled softly. “Not trying to make you eat. C’mon.” Through the kitchen and towards the back door, Dean ushered Cas out into the garage towards the Impala.
The sudden surge of panic lacing through Cas’ body made him freeze several feet from the passenger door. Were they going to the hospital? Had Dean finally given up on taking care of him at home?
“Dean?”
Hand soothing over Cas’ hip, Dean shushed him with a kiss to the temple, just as soft as the kiss earlier but this time with something fond and tender to the touch of lips against skin. “It’s not what you think, I promise. Please just trust me?”
There it was again. Those words. Dean wanted his trust. How could Cas possibly say no? Even feeling as sick as he was, there was nothing he didn’t trust Dean on. Except maybe his choice of medicine flavor.
With a small nod, Cas let Dean lead him the rest of the way to the car. Dean held the door open for him, helping him into the car and placing the box of tissues down along with the water. Wrapping the trenchcoat around Cas until he was bundled up again, Dean moved over to the drivers side and climbed in.
“Where’re we going?” Cas asked, dropping his head against the doorframe and closing his eyes as exhaustion wrapped around his aching body again.
“You’ll see. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you in a minute.”
The engine started, and Cas let the sounds of the Impala sliding onto the road soothe him until he was drifting off.
It felt like only seconds later that Dean was rubbing a hand over his arm and murmuring to him to open his eyes. Everything felt heavy and sticky, and he pushed at the trenchcoat to escape the sudden heat before finally dragging his eyes open.
They were parked in a field, facing out towards the skyline. The sun was just starting to creep up, yellows and oranges peeking out across the horizon.
Sunrise.
Stars still twinkled up above them, but as the first rays of sun melded with the darkness above it, the colors started to blend and burst. It was beautiful.
Cas couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the sun truly rise up and break apart the night sky. It was breathtaking. So simple and majestic.
“What do you think?” Dean asked quietly, reaching out to pull Cas into his arms.
Cas couldn’t find the words. There wasn’t anything to describe the sight tiptoeing out in front of them. He leaned into Dean’s touch, allowing himself to be curled into Dean’s side until they were cuddling.
Dean’s voice was just a ghost of a breath against his hairline. “Do you like it?”
“Yes,” Cas breathed out, tilting his head into the crook of Dean’s neck. He wanted to know how Dean even knew to be out here. “Why?” Cas asked, eyes still watching the horizon as a pink hue began to emerge from the sky. The pink cascaded with the yellow, until a peek of purple danced across the other side.
“I did this with Sammy when he was young the first couple times he got the flu and Dad wasn’t there. Kid was a stubborn son of a bitch just like you. Refused to take any medicine. So I made this dumb deal with him that if I could surprise him then he had to take the meds. I was gonna take him down to this vending machine that had his favorite candy bar in it just to try and tempt him to eat. And we stepped out of the room just as the sun was rising; just like this,” Dean said, casting his own eyes out to the colorful sunrise in front of them for a few seconds- orange reflecting in his eyes- before he started talking again.
“I don’t think we’d ever really stopped to watch a sunrise before, you know? Always stuck in motel rooms or sleeping through the night in the backseat. But the colors of the sky… it was a lot like this. Bright and vibrant and mesmerizing. We just sat on the pavement and watched as the sun crept up into the sky and the stars were replaced with colors and sunshine. I guess the beauty of it surprised Sam. He took the medicine without a word or a complaint.
“We both kinda forgot about it after that. But then the next time he got sick and he wouldn’t take his meds, I remembered the sunrise and how it actually made him take the damn stuff. So I waited and coaxed him back outside to watch the sunrise and he took the meds. It became a tradition after that. Anytime either of us was sick but being a bitch about it, we dragged each other out to the sunrise and had to take the awful medicine afterwards.
“It’s been years since we last did that. But then you got sick, so I thought I might as well try it. We’ve watched so many sunsets together over the years, you and I. But never the sunrise,” Dean said, quietly trailing off.
Cas sat for a second, taking in everything Dean had said while still watching as the beams of sun started to dance across the green field in front of them. Dean was right. It was mesmerizing. Definitely surprising. But also sentimental. Just another way of Dean showing his love. Cas had seen thousands of sunrises over his long life. From thousands of planets across the solar system to the view from heaven. Before life had even been a thought in the tadpoles mind to the bustling life of humanity. But here, in the arms of his lover, broken and sick, Cas truly saw his first sunrise. Something magical and special in a way it never had been before as the colors reflected back across Dean’s skin and created a kaleidoscope of beauty. Cas’ chest suddenly ached for a whole other reason that had nothing to do with the flu and everything to do with his overwhelming love for Dean.
Gently, Cas picked up the bottle of medicine and, without a word, took the same amount Dean had been pouring out for him over the last couple of days.
Dean plucked the bottle from him once he’d taken his dose, and then suddenly there were lips pressing soft butterfly kisses against his cheek. “Thank you,” Dean murmured before pulling away.
“Can you-” Cas broke off, throat hurting again from the few words he’d said earlier. Accepting the proffered water, Cas took a sip and cleared his throat to try and get the words out. “Kiss me like that again?” he asked. It was ridiculous, but something about the kiss felt like the touch Cas had been missing for days. He’d gotten so used to Dean's lips against his own over the last few months, that the lack of kisses from the last couple days had left Cas aching to be kissed in any form he could have.
“Anything for you. Always,” Dean said. Taking a second, he adjusted them across the bench seat until Cas was lying across his chest and they could both see the rising sun through the windshield. As the sun crept up into the sky and the soft colors danced and twined together like paint splashes of pinks and reds and purple hues, Dean pressed feather light kisses to Cas’ cheeks. Over and over again. Soft brushes of lips against skin. Butterfly soft and oh-so-tender. Kiss after kiss, seared into cheekbones until the touch was imprinted on Cas’ heart.
Oh. This was the reason he chose to be human. Love. Love like he’d never felt before. Powerful. Aching. Tender. Monumental. Overwhelming and utterly perfect.
“I love you,” Cas said quietly, the feeling profound and raw.
Dean whispered his reciprocated love declaration against Cas’ cheek with another round of kisses.