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The Flu

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Castiel was researching for one of Dean’s hunts when he first felt the stuffy nose. He didn’t pay it any attention, and the creature turned out to be a Lamia. Castiel texted Dean the details, forgot about his nose, and ignored his mildly itchy eyes and sore throat that showed up gradually.

 

He remembered while watching Game of Thrones with Sam; he’d already seen the episode, but he didn’t feel the need to mention this to Sam. Both of the brothers were showing Castiel the show while the other was on a hunt - separately, and it didn’t seem that either of them noticed it. During one of the more boring parts of the episode, he turned to Sam and asked him about the symptoms.

 

“Well, it, uh, it sounds like you’re getting sick for the first time. Congratulations” Sam chuckled, and patted his shoulder as best he could, seeing as they were propped up against Sam’s headboard.

 

“Isn’t sick is when Dean didn’t move from the motel bed and wheezed at me when I tried to change the channel from western movies?” He asked, almost shuddering from the memory.

 

“Well, that was an extreme kind of sick. From how it sounds, you probably aren’t going to get much worse than a little cold. If you want, we can get some medicine after the episode?” Sam offered.

 

“That sounds good.” Castiel replied, smiling at Sam.

 

“Now, back to the blood and gore.”

 

---------------

 

Once they got to the CVS, Sam texted Dean.

 

Sam: Hey, Cas got sick for the first time. We’re getting medicine right now. Anything you want from cvs?

 

Dean: Surprised it hasn’t happened earlier. Pick me up some aleve?

 

Sam: What, is your back bothering you?

 

Dean: Shut up.

 

Dean: And get me the aleve .

 

Sam chuckled, grabbing the small bottle off the shelf, he turned to Cas to ask him if there was a flavor he preferred, but then he stopped. “You okay? Cas?”

 

Castiel felt strange. His head felt too light, but also heavy at the same time, his mouth felt dry, and the room was zooming in and out of focus. He could kind of hear Sam, but Castiel wasn’t processing what he said. Before he knew it, he was slumping down, falling slowly.

 

Sam panicked, rushing forwards, and catching Cas. Sam lowered him to the ground, laying him down, before trying to wake him up. Thankfully, Castiel came to after a few seconds.

 

“What happened?” Castiel croaked, his throat punishing him for each word.

 

“You’re burning up.” Sam said, putting his hand on Castiel’s forehead, and helping (pulling) him up. “We’re going home.”

 

“But-”

 

“Home.”

 

---------------

 

The second Sam got Cas into his bed, he was out. Sam started to make a list of things they would need. Gatorade, crackers, I think we have soup. Medicine. As he was writing it down, he heard the bunker door open and close loudly.

 

“Honey, I’m home.” Dean joked, setting his duffel bags on the floor next to the table. “Where’s our little trooper?”

 

“Cas’s knocked out in his room. Do we have soup?” Sam asked, chewing on the end of the pen.

 

“Yeah, I think. I’ll go check on him, if he’s awake, see if he wants anything to eat.”

 

“Yeah, okay, but he’s probably not gonna wake up anytime soon.” Sam said, adding more to his list while Dean waved his hand in acknowledgement. Do we need a puke tub?

 

---------------

 

“Dude. When you said he was sick, I thought you meant a cold, not the goddamn plague .” Dean said as he walked back into the war room.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. But then he got a fever of like, 103, and passed out at the CVS.” Sam said, folding his list.

 

“He passed out in CVS? And you didn’t think to tell me?” Dean asked.

 

“Sorry, I was distracted, and forgot you didn’t already know. I’m gonna go to the store, you take care of Cas.” Sam told Dean as he got up and made sure his wallet was in his pocket.

 

“Yeah, sure. Make sure you get split pea, tomato and rice, and chicken noodle.”

 

“Got it. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

 

---------------

 

Almost ten hours later, with Sam and Dean switching who checked on Cas once an hour, Castiel woke up. Dean was about to check up on him, when Castiel walked into the bedroom turned living room with two blankets wrapped around his shoulders. He was stumbling, and holding on to everything, and still barely managing to keep on his feet.


“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, standing up and wrapping one arm firmly around his shoulders, using the other to hold him up. “Let’s get you to the couch.” Dean started pretty much carrying him to the couch, but Castiel tried to stop him

 

“No, Dean, it’s fine. You don’t have to help, I can do this myself.” Castiel told him, before dissolving in a coughing fit.

 

Dean fixed him with one of the most intense looks Castiel has ever been given. “You wanna walk by yourself? Alright, let’s see that.” He said, barely lifting his left arm from Castiel’s shoulders, and hurriedly putting it back as Cas almost fell. “You aren’t allowed to walk by yourself until Sam or I say so, got it? And no research.”

 

Castiel grit his teeth. He hated feeling useless, which was what he was right now. “Fine.” He said, and let Dean lead him to the couch. Dean was allowed to walk on his own when he was sick…

 

“Yeah, and that’s because I had a cold .” Dean told him flatly, picking up Cas’s legs and setting them on his lap.

 

Castiel startled, looking up. He must’ve accidentally said that out loud. “So?” Castiel said petulantly, decidedly not pouting.

 

“You passed out at the pharmacy. That’s a bit more serious than a sore throat.” Dean smirked, and patted his leg. “Never thought I’d see an angel of the Lord pout.”

 

“Former angel.” Castiel replied, and then started to not pout even harder. “And I don’t ‘pout’.”

 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

 

Castiel changed the channel to a documentary about bees, knowing that Dean wouldn’t leave.

 

Dean had surprisingly strong maternal instincts for a hunter, and from seeing what Dean had been like with Sam, he knew Dean would hover over him until he had been deemed completely healthy.

 

---------------

 

After four days, Castiel had had it. He’d only just gotten the privilege to walk yesterday, and very reluctantly. Every few hours, either Dean or Sam (mostly Dean, if Castiel was being honest. Sam, after getting over the initial concern, just brought him some books to read, and movie recommendations) was checking up on him, with the exception of his required nine to ten hours hours of sleep each night.

 

He just wanted to do some goddamn research, or was that too much to ask? Or work out, just once!

 

Dean had seen him sneaking over to the gym, and immediately sent him to bed. To bed . Like a human child . It wasn’t even going to be a hard workout, he wasn’t stupid. Nothing dangerous, he’d learned his lesson when he first started using the gym with Sam.

 

Enough was enough.

 

“Hey, Cas, hydrate.” Dean handed him a bottle of water, and sat next to him at the table. “What’cha doin’?” He asked, leaning over to look at the book Castiel was reading.

 

“I’m researching for Jody.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes, and started to try to take the book away. “How many times-”

 

“I’m sick with the flu, Dean. Not invalid. I can walk on my own, I barely have a stuffy nose anymore, and my sore throat went away yesterday. I have watched more Netflix than is probably healthy for the human body to handle, and I need to do something substantial.” Castiel finished his rant by dramatically unscrewing the lid on the water, and taking a self-satisfied drink.

 

Dean rubbed his hand over his face. Why does Cas actually have to insist on working? Being sick is for relaxing. “Do you actually want to do research?”

 

Castiel looked at Dean, confused. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

 

“Most people like to relax when they’re sick. You know, things they enjoy. As long as you aren’t doing this out of some stupid sense of commitment or something, it’s fine.”

 

“Good.” Castiel replied, relieved.


“What’s Jody hunting?” Dean asked, standing up to get some more books.