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Dean knew he was sick when he started throwing up in the bathroom of the motel room, when he felt a cold sweat every time he finally relaxed, when he ate food in front of Sam and wanted to throw it all up, when he drank water and when he threw up again it was clear and wet. Dean knew he was really sick when his body decided it wanted to give up on him, on a hunt which was worse, which was in front of Sam and Cas and Dean never felt more embarrassed or weak in life.
When he stood up his legs shaking, begging for rest, for a minute to sit down, he grabbed his shovel they’d just burned the remains of a ghost a simple job but Dean being sick felt terrible, uncomfortable. He hated it. Castiel was the first to notice, how the fuck Sam hadn’t? Well Cas was gonna yell at him later but right now? Dean was his main priority ,”Dean. You’re sick” Cas’s voice was smooth like honey, soft and warm. But all Dean could hear was John scolding him, telling him he’s weak holding him for being sick even feeling sick. He could do better. He has to do better. For…for… and suddenly Dean was going down the grass too close to his face.
When he woke up he was in the motel he assumed Sam had driven them back considering the last time they tried to teach Cas how to drive they almost crash and Dean almost killed Cas for nearly killing baby. Dean felt weird…his body was tingling and once he turned his head he understood. He understood why he felt warm why the bed was weirdly so comfortable ,he had his head lying on Cas’ chest while he tried to make Dean comfortable with his grace. Dean tried to focus on the good but all of a sudden he wanted to throw up and he sat up but his body wouldn’t move further than that.
Thankfully Sam who was close ,and understood more than Cas , when Dean was sick his body would lock up it was a reaction from John. The fucker. So many times of pushing through sickness made Dean’s body lock up if his body thought he was being pushed beyond, well…everything.
Sam grabbed Dean and shoved the bin that he picked up, when did he even? Dean didn’t question nor fight as soon as he saw the bin in front of his face he let himself throw up. Sitting up straighter holding onto the bin as he coughed trying to fight back the tears or shame and exhaustion. Dean shut his eyes wanting to just sleep. Cas yes could just heal Dean but Cas knew better than trying to force Dean to let him heal him without his say so. Which yeah pissed both Sam and Cas off but still Cas was all about consent.
And yeah Dean loved that about him.
Sitting back up still holding the bin in his arms he looked at the two, he was out of his mind. His body fighting with him on every moment and he just wanted sleep. But for Dean? Peace did not come easy even tho yes Dean was no longer throwing up his body was on edge. But with the help of his angels ,lovers , grace he dozed off in seconds.
Sam and Cas turned to each other worried ,”Sam I’m worry he’s sick…” Cas’ voice was quiet soft spoken as to not wake the exhausted hunter ,”I know Cas… but it’s Dean, he’ll pull through…” Sam didn’t sound certain and all that was running through his mind was when Dean was dying… and they had to go through the bitch who took control over death. Oh lord please say that wasn’t happening again, he’s lost Dean way too many fucking times.
“Should I heal him?” Cas sounded so unsure, well he was. Sam sighed and rubbed the back of his neck unknowing ,”let’s see how he gets deal?” And as if silently they both agreed with a nod.
Dark. Cold. Loud. Screaming was everywhere and Dean was walking, helplessly ,alone. And fuck there was screaming so fucking much. It wouldn’t stop. Why won’t it stop? He felt sick. He was shaking. Cold in sweat.
Walking more he paused and frowned he wondered why this memory was happening right now. Yeah that made sense.
Dean stared at his younger self, crying, he remembered this night, a shitty fucking night. He sighed and crouched down and stared at himself cry himself sick, no not sleep never sleep. This was one of the first hunts he went on with his father, it was bad, Dean had gotten sick due to not having eaten for almost two weeks and the fucking shitty motel they had stayed in the night before, he’d caught a cold. Sam was staying with Bobby and his dad was inside the abandoned house behind him.
Dean frowned, he was so young, so skinny… he had a bruise on his cheek and Dean remembered how hard John had hit him for Dean admiring the dolls and pictures of men and girls on the walls it was a home, it was a happy home, it’d been a happy home. Before a vampire broke in and John decided it’d be the best job to teach Dean. No it fucking wasn’t. He walked in a room and froze there was the vampire feeding on a family, the dad already gone, the children? Their necks snapped and the mother screaming. It was loud. Too loud.
Dean felt sick… he wished he could go back. Yell at John. Tell Bobby he didn’t want to go, he wanted to stay. He was an idiot. He felt his eyes watering as he relived the moment, he hated it and when johns voice rang out hr wanted to throw up ,”god damn it Dean.” John’s voice was cold, rough, hoarse. Mean. And Dean straightened in memory. Fuck…
His younger self was still trying to calm down get up. Stand up. Hurry up. “Get up!” Dean yelled his eyes watering he knew what happened next. Dean couldn’t move from the grass and John grabbed him by the hair and yelled. Loudly. So fucking loud. And Dean frowned as the tears streamed. He wiped them keeping the angry expression tight. Even if John couldn’t see him, his body acted on its own. He watched little Dean cry out as he was slapped again. “Oh Dean…” a soft voice rang in his mind and the moment started to crash.
He looked around confused ,”Dean it’s ok… hey I’m here…” the voice echoed as the memory started to dissolve as slowly the sun rose, he was back with Sam and Bobby. Running to Bobby who instantly treated his face while Sam held onto him worriedly. Dean smiled he remembered the next day picking up Sam hugging Bobby with all his might while John went straight onto a new hunt. And then turning around to the mirror he was in the bunker. He’d just told Cas he loved him back before the empty took him. Why was this happening..?
“Dean…wake up..” a voice called out and he felt his body warm up and he turned and as quick as Cas was taken he was back, Jack had brought him back to him, they were a family again. Jack was home. Cas was home. Cas… Cas. The voice. No not the voice , Castiel’s… his Cas ,”Dean, baby?” He called again and everything crumbled into warmth.
Opening his eyes Dean looking up at Cas who had his thumb gently rubbing his cheek wiping the tears ,”hey…you ok?” The angel asked his voice warm and loving ,”Cas…” was all Dean responded with and smiled reaching up to hug him, they shared a brief kiss just to check one and the other was still alive. And yeah…they were.
Dean relaxed and leaned into him, he didn’t feel sick, he don’t feel loud, cold, alone… “I know you don’t like me using my grace but-“ Dean cut him off with a kiss and smiled warmly nuzzling into his chest, Dean loved being clingy and cuddly with Cas after stressful situations ,”Cas I…I don’t care…thank you…” he smiled looking up at his angel, he was still very much out of it but hey, he didn’t care. He was home.
“Dean you were sick” Cas hummed ,”I’ll always watch over you, always make you feel better, it’s why I’m here.” he smiled and kissed him. Yeah…yeah he did ,”that’s now all you should be here for Cas… I love you for you… but thanks angel…” they share a comfortable hold while Sam tries to either not cringe or cry but the cuteness from his bed on the other side of the motel.