Work Text:
Purgatory, it turns out, really blows. Not that Dean expected anything else, but the enormity of how much it sucks here really strikes Dean every time it hits that time where Dean can barely see two steps ahead of him or lift his head up off his chest as his legs drag feeling like solid lead weighing his entire body down. Dean puts off sleep as long as he can, until Castiel gently places a hand on his shoulder and murmurs in his ear that he will go ahead to find somewhere safe for Dean to rest.
Sometimes Dean pushes it as far to the point where even Benny is rolling his eyes before drawling out 'dammit Dean let's get you to fuckin' sleep. No show pony is worth anything to me half dead.'
Though no matter how much his eyes burn for sleep, no matter how much his muscles wish to uncoil, Dean can never achieve a great rest. His shoulders remain tense and his stomach churns with worry and uncertainty. Castiel would sit with him and the first time he tried to rub soothing circles on Dean's back but Dean spasmed like he was being electrocuted and snapped at Castiel 'personal space man!'
Dean refused to accept being coddled. He may be a human in a very inhumane plane of existence that no man should be in in the first place, but Dean is strong and he's been to Hell for fuck's sake. He thinks he can handle a fucking forest filled with monsters that he's put there himself.
Except the forest is never ending and the monsters are never dying.
It is three days after they find the angel that Dean thinks there might be something seriously wrong with him. For Dean to think something was seriously wrong with him in a place where everything was seriously wrong, well that was worrying. And it wasn't the nasty cut to his temple, or the abrasions on his shoulder blades, or the bruised knees and ribs.
They are hiking through brambles and decaying wood when the subtle stomach bug Dean's been feeling suddenly turns into an all out, flaring punch-to-the-gut nausea. Dean stumbles when it hits him all of a sudden, letting out an involuntary groan.
Castiel turns back immediately with furrowed brows.
"Dean?"
Dean groans again before he feels it, the rushing, stomach clenching signs that he is definitely going to puke his guts out. Dean doesn't even have time to go behind a tree or something to preserve some of his manliness before it all rushes out in painful, choking bursts.
Castiel rushes towards him while Benny stays where he is in order to continue surveying the perimeter, though he does look back towards Dean with concern. The bitter, sour taste of bile makes Dean feel sick even more and he struggles to spit it out of his mouth along with the residue and slight pieces of berries and other plants he's been forced to consume during his time here that catch behind his teeth as he continues vomiting.
"Dean, have you consumed anything I haven't approved to be nonthreatening to you?" Castiel asks while rubbing his back and carding fingers through his hair.
Dean gasps and raises a shaking hand to wipe at the perspiration that suddenly broken out on his forehead.
"I'm not stupid Cas."
Even though Dean's words are harsh, he can't help but lean into the angel's touch. His whole body seems like it's quaking and his stomach keeps clenching. Dean can't remember the last time he felt this fucking horrible.
Castiel frowns before glancing up towards Benny. "We need to find somewhere to rest."
Benny nods. "I'll go ahead n' scope fer a safe spot. You stay with with Dean, I'll try n' be quick."
Dean hears Benny taking off through the brush, but can't be bothered to lift his head from where he's leaning into Castiel's chest.
"Let's sit down," Castiel suggests.
Castiel slowly moves Dean to the ground that's fairly clear of any uncomfortable brush. He leans Dean against a fallen tree carefully, though Dean continues to lean most of his weight against Castiel. Dean shudders as the movement causes the nausea to swim in his gut, and he squeezes his eyes shut. His muscles feel like needles are pinning him and he can't stop the damn tremors escaping him.
"What is happening to me," Dean groans as the faint sunlight of Purgatory assaults his retinas.
"I don't know Dean," Castiel says calmly with only the faintest hint of distress. "I believe you are experiencing the symptoms of nausea, stomach cramps, light sensitivity, and muscle weakness along with tremors. All of these combined can result in a multitude of diagnosis's, however I am unable to ascertain what disease you could have caught in Purgatory other than food poisoning. You are human, there are many things that can harm you here."
"Well thank you Doctor Cas," Dean mutters sarcastically. "Telling me shit I already know. Just let me lie down for a bit and I'll be fine."
"We must wait for the vampire to locate a safe resting area for you to do so," Castiel states. "You must stay awake."
"I couldn't sleep right now even if I wanted to," Dean moans. "I think I'm going to puke again."
Castiel shifts Dean so he is leaning over the other side of the fallen tree, and not a moment too soon. Dean lets out another gut wrenching bout of vomiting, his back hitching as he tries to breath through the attack. Castiel rubs his back soothingly, and mentally hopes that perhaps the vampire would be intelligent enough to bring back some water for Dean without being asked. He can hear the river they've been following about a mile away.
Dean finishes throwing up, and collapses back on the other side of the tree next to Castiel. He wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket without any thought to hygiene. His face is even more flushed and sweaty and Castiel places his palm to Dean's cheek, checking any rise in body temperature.
Deans's hands are still shaking.
"Jeez Cas, will you cradle me in your arms and sing to me in my time of need?" Dean manages to bite out sarcastically while discretely pressing his face further into the angel's cool palm.
"How many drinks do you consume on a daily basis?" Castiel asks suddenly.
Dean pauses.
Oh. Oh fuck no.
"It's official then, I am a fucking alcoholic loser," Dean groans.
"I do believe you are perhaps going through strong alcohol withdrawal. I estimate that you consume more than the average amount of alcoholic beverages than is healthy and the result of the sudden cut off from any inebriation has affected your equilibrium."
"Perfect, just fuckin' perfect," Dean lets out gruffly. "You let me know when you find a hunter who's gone through the same crap I have who's a Sober Sally and I'll buy you burgers for a month."
"There is no need for shame Dean. I am not judging you, I understand completely," Castiel says earnestly.
Dean goes quiet after that, only letting out the occasional shaky breath.
Castiel continues comforting Dean, as he gazes at the forest around them. The landscape is always shifting but the heavy forest canopy still hangs over their heads, letting in dim light that is enough to cause Dean's senses pain. Purgatory reminds Castiel of a messy painting that could either be considered rich art or, as Dean would put it, a "what the hell is that supposed to be?" The only colors that seems to exist are greens and browns, all smudging and dripping down trees and the forest floor.
When Purgatory escalates, it's like an oily fire that causes the air around them to suddenly waft a putrid stench that makes his eyes water. Things are dying here and always will be dying but life is breathed into them again and again to start the wretched cycle all over again. The smell of death is constant. Castiel glances at Dean pressing his face to his neck, probably to escape the awful smell.
Castiel remembers Dean turning to him yesterday and saying that Purgatory kind of reminds him of what he saw inside himself in Hell, settling into him like all these sensations have washed over him and dug their way deep into his skin from a time he can't remember. Castiel then took it upon himself to remind Dean that he carried his soul, and it was bright and it was beautiful and it was damaged, and Purgatory couldn't hold a candle in comparison. Dean just flushed and quickly walked away, leaving Castiel confused.
"Once we get outta here," Dean murmurs, "I am either never drinking again or I am gonna be drinking a hell of a lot more than before."
"You could think of this as a start to your rehabilitation," Castiel suggests. "You never know when you might be in a situation where alcohol is unavailable, then you will have to go through the withdrawal symptoms all over again, which seem to be unpleasant."
"I don't plan on getting chewed by freaking Purgatory again," Dean snorts.
Castiel opens his mouth to reply that Purgatory isn't the only circumstance in which Dean might be forced to withdrawal again, but it is at that moment Benny reappears.
"Found a slight alcove abou' two miles up. It's sheltered enough where we can see 'me but they can't see us. How's the patient doin'?"
Benny kneels besides them and hands Dean a makeshift canteen of water. Dean drinks it greedily, hoping that by getting rid of his puke breath that he might feel even a tiny bit better. Castiel tilts his head in thanks.
"Dean is going through alcohol withdrawal," he says to Benny.
"Cas!" Dean stutters, somehow embarrassed.
Benny just raises an eyebrow before he turns away to lead them to the alcove.
"Can you walk?" Castiel asks.
"Course I can freaking walk," Dean retorts.
Dean then begins the slow ascent to stand on his very shaky legs that feel like they've become wood. Even though he is moving slowly, the movement brings back the nausea full force. Dean groans and tilts alarmingly to the left.
Castiel reaches for Dean's waist just in time, and wraps his arm around it. Dean curls his arm around the angel's shoulders.
"I shall assist you Dean," Castiel all but growls out.
Too embarrassed and too sick to complain, Dean just nods jerkily before shuffling his feet in the direction Benny went. Castiel's hold tightens around his waist as he supports most of Dean's weight for the two mile trek.
The walk is slow and awkward, and Benny keeps throwing exasperated looks towards Dean whenever he has to stop to either throw up or steady his shaking limbs. Castiel is patient and calm the entire walk, his fingers digging slightly into Dean's hip in a reassuring way, and his warm breath ghosts pass Dean's cheek.
When they finally reach the alcove, Benny already set up a bed of the softest foliage he can find. Dean grunts a thank you before almost collapsing into a heap. Castiel helps lower him carefully before using the edge of his trench coat to gently wipe away the cold sweat on Dean's face. Benny rolls his eyes.
"I'll take first watch," Benny drawls.
Castiel goes to object but Benny raises his hand.
"Trust me, I'd rather take watch than manage the rehab center."
Dean huffs in annoyance but Benny is already gone. He turns his face into the sweet smelling leaves he is laying in, noticing the scent has helped ease away the nausea for the most part. However, Dean is still shaking and his whole body is covered in cold sweat.
Dean has never been more uncomfortable in his life.
"You should sleep Dean," Castiel says with his usual deadpan face.
"I can't," Dean bites out, though it sounds weak through his chattering.
Castiel studies Dean for a moment before crawling to his knees towards Dean. He then pulls Dean's back flush against his front, wrapping an arm around Dean's waist and resting his hand on his chest.
"What're you doing?!" Dean says, jerking away.
"Now is not the time for you to concern yourself over personal space. I am sharing my vessel's heat with you. You will be exceptionally more comfortable."
Dean struggles weakly for a few more seconds before sighing.
"Whatever man, but if you tell anyone about this I will kick your holy ass."
Castiel responds by pressing his face down to the back of Dean's neck and wait...is he nuzzling?! Dean's cheeks redden before he mentally thinks 'what the hell' and pulls Castiel's arm closer to him, entwining their fingers.
Dean breaths in the scents of the flora around him and a smell that is distinctly Cas. He curls himself further into Castiel, the angel's warmth reaching him through their layers of clothes. Dean wouldn't admit it, but he needs Cas. He knows most of his relationships are fucked up and messy and creepily co-dependent, but lying against Castiel right now Dean knows it's true, he needs him.
"I will watch over you Dean," Castiels murmurs, and Dean can feel the angels lips curled into a small smile against his skin.
"Yeah, yeah," Dean replies, though it is with a grin.
Dean has never been more comfortable in his entire life.