Chapter Text
It's currently passed midnight and Sam is walking down the halls of the bunker. It's quiet, apart from the pattering of his shoes on the tiles and the soft audio coming from the Dean Cave to the left. Sam walks to the doorway, but just peeks his head inside at first. The TV is on, playing a movie that Sam couldn't remember the name of, but the scene looks familiar. He takes his attention away though to the obvious pile of empty beer bottles on the coffee table. Sam sighed softly at what that meant, even if he's not surprised or shocked at the sight. The next thing Sam noticed was the head of dirty blonde hair against the couch's armrest that was obviously his brother. It was a fact that anywhere there was beer, Dean wasn't too far away.
Sam stood there a few moments before he quietly walked in and grabbed the remote, turning the TV off. Looking down just for a glance, he saw Dean was still deep in sleep, but also holding a half drunken beer bottle. Sam just looked away without trying to take it out of Dean's hand because any sleep Dean was able to get was a miracle at this point. So, Sam starts grabbing the bottles on the table without clinking them too much and placed them in the garbage near the door. Turning back once more, Sam grabbed the door handle to the room and slowly shut it. Once it was mostly shut, Sam leaned back against the bunkers brick walls, rubbing his hand down his face, shaking his head.
It's been a few months like this. Ever since Castiel left when he turned human, everything had turned sideways. First finding out Gadreel had been using him as a vessel and then Dean getting the Mark of Cain. The Mark itself was causing problems they didn't realize would happen. Dean's anger was growing and there was a lot more needed to calm him down. It was really a miracle that Dean was asleep right now because the two had just gotten back a few hours ago from an intense hunt that Dean did mostly himself. It was exhausting and worrying Sam, but he didn't know how to help his brother.
Sam didn’t want to poke the bear whilst trying either. He sighed. At least it wasn’t as many beer bottles as it could’ve been. At least it was beer and not whiskey. The Mark also gave Dean a greater tolerance, which was only worse. Sam made his way off to bed a few minutes later and all was quiet in the bunker. It wasn't just the Mark of Cain though that was the issue. There was something else that was off about Dean. He wouldn't talk about Castiel very much, and Sam started to not bring him up. Even when they had run into Castiel and the angel found out about the mark, there was some tension in the air. Sam wondered if something had happened between them. Sam knew that Gadreel had told Dean Castiel couldn't stay, but the man wondered how that had gone about being told.
An hour later, Castiel had opened the bunker door and stepped inside. He had been working with Hannah for the last months, but he was running low on power again. He hadn't told the brothers yet about his situation but there was never a right time to tell them. Especially with Dean having the Mark of Cain, it would have caused more worry and trouble to the brothers.
But now something was different, and he needed a place to recover. The bunker had always felt like home, despite the few heavy arguments in it. It was late at night when Castiel walked tired through the bunker, so he assumed his friends were asleep. He was a bit disappointed he'd have to wait till morning, not as good with patience as he used to be, but when he was looking for a room to sleep, something caught his eye. Castiel followed it, stopping at the sight in front of him in concern, worry, and a little anger.
Dean was still on the couch snoring, hugging the empty bottle to his chest. Usually, he wouldn’t be so careless to fall asleep without a gun nearby. But he’d just been so tired. He fell asleep in his jeans, but his boots were on the floor beneath his feet wearing Scooby-Doo printed socks.
Sam came out into the hallway, gun drawn until he saw Cas in the Dean Cave's doorway.
“Cas- What are you doing here? Where have you been?” Sam rubbed his eyes and whispered.
Castiel looked at Sam, turning away from Dean. "I finished a hunt nearby and decided to stop by the bunker," he said, only half of a lie. He couldn't tell the full truth once he saw Dean's state. "It seems I have been gone for far longer than I should have," Castiel said, in slight reference to asleep man.
Sam nodded to step out of the room and out in the hall to speak with him. “He’s always like that. Trust me, it could be a lot worse. I think he can handle a lot more now with the Mark anyway but—" he was cut off by clanking of bottles together. He followed the sound back in the Dean Cave to see Dean sitting up now, rubbing his eyes. Dean looked up at Sam in the doorway and squinted.
“The hell you whispering to?” Dean stood up, palming his eyes before stumbling over to see Cas behind Sam. His eyebrows raised but his features softened. It was an almost smile. Almost. “Hey, Cas. What’s goin’ on?” The alcohol in his system made the anger he would have used to hide his relief at seeing the angel disappear.
Castiel had watched Dean enough to see the emotion in the smallest body movement or facial change. "Hello Dean," he greeted back, looking at the man. "I was stopping by when Sam stopped me moments ago." Maybe a little longer than he had thought before.
Dean’s eyebrows quirked and he looked down at his watch, squinting to read it. “It’s 3am, Cas, and you’ve been gone for months." Dean held back that he was the reason Cas had been gone. He'd started to believe the angel wouldn't be coming back. "I refuse to believe you were just ‘stopping by.’ What do you need? You hurt?” He said taking a step closer to the angel and examining him from the short distance, his eyebrows now furrowed in worry. Why did Cas come back?
"I'm fine Dean," Castiel said, lying through his teeth. The last few days he'd been more tired than usual and then randomly had coughs. Hannah had recommended he wait and try to heal or rest while she looked for more grace for him. "What about you?" Castiel tried to change the topic. He was concerned about Dean's apparent alcoholism and how bad it has gotten.
“I mean, I got the Mark. But it’s worth it if it means beating Abaddon, right?” Dean says, narrowing his eyes. “Now Cas, you don’t just ‘stop by.’ What’s wrong?” He looked slightly down at the angel.
Castiel should have known Dean wasn't going to fall for it. The man has a persistent caretaker quality that Castiel admired until it was turned to him. "Nothings wro-" A slight tingle in his throat cut him off but be tried to cover it up to not cough. If he had just gone straight to a private room...
Dean’s eyes widened and clutched Cas’s bicep firmly in concern. “Sam,” he practically barked only turning his head for a second before he turned his attention back on Cas. Was Cas cursed? Did you get hurt and wasn’t telling them? What happened?
“It’ll make this a lot easier on us if you just tell us what’s wrong,” Sam told him. It couldn't be good.
Dean's grip on his arm felt a lot stronger in Castiel's current state of well-being, and also a lot warmer from the body heat. He noticed the symptoms of a sickness, as did Hannah, hence why he was here now. Castiel was reluctant to share this with the brothers. But almost like his body sensed that, a fit appeared, and he turned to cough heavily into his free elbow.
Dean looked to Sam again with a glare. “I’ll go get some tea,” Sam said before nodding and scurrying off to the kitchen.
Dean looked back at Cas. “You sound sick. And-” he cupped his cheek. “You’re freezing. C'mere,” he guided Cas by the arm to the couch and located a blanket to bundle him up in. “What happened? Why isn’t your grace working?”
All Castiel could do was listen to Sam's receding footsteps and let Dean have his caring way. Though the warm hand and the blanket were nice... Castiel looked up at Dean in front of him and the worry on his face. He hoped it wouldn't turn to anger. "The grace is running out," Castiel told him.
Dean furrowed his eyebrows, his lips parted. “What…who…” he huffed. “How?” He asked simply, crouched down in front of the couch looking up at the angel. His eyes searched Cas’s for some explanation or any signs he was lying again.
Castiel's face was blank as most of the time, but he tightened the blanket around him. "It's not mine. The grace only lasts so long. Maybe a month or two, longer if I don't use it."
Dean’s eyes roamed off of Cas’s face as the pieces clicked in his head. “And Metatron still has yours?” He asked, though he could guess the answer. Cas nodded. “Okay but if you’re grace runs out, you’re just human again though, right? You’re not gonna die?” Dean asked, concealed worry in his eyes.
Castiel avoided his gaze. "I cannot confirm that Dean. Losing my grace, yes, I become human. But then taking another angel's grace, it has other affects."
Dean sighed and clenched his jaw determined, swallowing thickly. “Okay so you need your grace. We’ll find your grace. How long do we have? You said it lasts a couple months but how long have you had it?” He asked, desperate for a solution. To make a plan to fix this.
Castiel thought back. He was weak enough to be able to get sick. "Perhaps a month? I noticed symptoms two days ago," he said. "But I have someone looking for more grace already," Castiel told Dean, seeing his mind turning. "They are also the one who told me to come back."
Dean furrowed his eyebrows and swallowed again. He wanted to ask who, but he didn’t want to seem jealous. Because he wasn’t.
Sam came back with tea just in time and Dean took it, handing it gently to the angel. “It’s hot. Be careful. You can burn your tongue. So just sip it,” Sam instructed, sitting beside the angel on the couch.
“You trust this person?” Dean asked Castiel.
Castiel looked down at the warm cup in his hands, not seeing Dean's expression. He nodded to Sam before taking a small sip. It was still hot but felt good on his irritated throat. "Yes, I do trust them," Castiel said, answering Dean. Though Hannah's morals were more to heavens orders, she was a good angel.
Dean nodded his head. He wanted to trust this person if Cas did. But he also knew how gullible and kindhearted Cas seemed to be. “What do you feel like you need right now? Does anything hurt?” He asked. Dean tried his hardest to trample the hatred and anger he had for Metatron inside him right now. He’d make the excuse of an angel pay soon enough.
Castiel shook his head. "Just tired." He was cold too, despite the blanket and tea. "Sicknesses are very draining. How do humans survive with these viruses?" Castiel asked, his voice completely serious and confused.
Dean couldn’t help but let Cas’s words detach him from that anger, a soft amused smile creeping its way to his lips. He chuckled softly. “You just power through it. You stay home and you just take care of yourself until the symptoms pass. You kind of quarantine to avoid getting anybody else sick,” he said, looking up at Sam.
“You know we really should have one of us stay with him and the other away, so we don’t spread it around. I don’t think we can really afford us all bedridden,” Sam said softly.
Dean nodded his head. “Yeah… you’re right. Well… I can stay with him then. But we need stuff from the store. He’ll need soup and probably some Benadryl if it gets too bad for him to sleep on his own.”
Sam looked between the angel and the hunter skeptically before he nodded his head. He didn't know what had happened before, but he figured Dean wouldn't want to leave Cas now that he's back. “On it. Text me if you come up with anything else,” he said making his way out of the room and to his own to get dressed.
“C’mon. Do you think you can walk to your room?” Dean asked, left with Cas in the Dean Cave.
Castiel gave a weak cough but nodded. He drank a little more of the cooling tea in his hands, the blanket still around him. "A bed would be preferred."
Dean nodded and helped Cas off of the couch, staying close as to make sure he would catch him if Cas couldn’t support himself anymore. “C’mon. Let’s get you to bed,” he motioned with his head as he escorted Cas to his bed. He helped the angel take his shoes and coat off, undoing his tie and belt. He left the man’s dress shirt on and slacks on though. He covered the angel up with the blankets and looked down at him. “Do ya need more tea or do you wanna sleep?”
Castiel wasn't fazed by Dean undressing his over clothes. He was too tired by now to have a reaction or a say, which was probably supposed to be concerning. But once the falling angel was without the warmth of his coats, he went under the covers with no complaints.
He shook his head against the pillow at Dean's offer and shut his eyes. "I'm fine where I am," Castiel murmured. Well, before a cough erupted from him again and he sighed to himself. "Actually, yes please."
Dean quickly helped Cas sit up as he coughed, nodding his head. “Okay, okay. I’ll be back then. I’m gonna bring you some cough medicine too. If you really need me, yell for me.” He pushed Cas’s hair from his forehead, looking to make sure he wasn’t sweating and went to get the angel more tea and medicine. He eventually came back with just that, warm tea and some grape flavored medicine. He measured it out in a spoon and looked down at the angel, his hand beneath the spoon so it wouldn’t spill on the bed.
“Open,” Dean commanded.
Castiel was sitting against the beds backboard when Dean sat down on the edge of the bed. But when the medicine got close enough to his face, Castiel's nose wrinkled and backed away. "That smell is not pleasant," Castiel said, shaking his head.
Dean narrowed his eyes and grumbled softly. “Take it, Cas. You’ll feel better soon. I promise. It’ll help,” he said, wiggling the spoon in front of the angel’s lips. “This ain’t my first Rodeo, don’t make me make you.”
Castiel just looked down at the spoon suspicious and then stared back at Dean defyingly and stubborn. If Castiel was at even half power, he'd say he didn’t need it. But still there was no way was he going to digest whatever that liquid was. Castiel had said yes to tea, not fake smelling fruit. He tried to push the spoon away from his face.
“Open your mouth,” Dean raised his voice though it wasn’t yelling. He was quick to straddle the angel, pinning both his legs and his arms underneath his knees. “You’re gonna take it Cas. Stop being a baby. It’s grape. You like peanut butter and grape jelly. Take the damn medicine.” He held the spoon out in front of Cas as a last warning for the angel to comply.
Castiel tried to move his head out of the way of the spoon, but the wooden headboard was behind him. There wasn’t much he could do with Dean trapping any way for him to resist. All he could do was glare at Dean. "There is a very big difference between the two."
Jelly and this vile medicine were very different, but Castiel had already made the mistake of opening his mouth.
Dean took the opportunity of Cas talking to put the medicine in the angel’s mouth, swiftly removing the spoon and holding Castiel's mouth closed. “Swallow, I swear to god if you spit it on me, I’ll make you take it twice Cas. Swallow it,” he told him, eyebrows furrowed annoyed, but worried. Jesus Cas was a child.
Castiel wanted to spit it. But he complied, swallowing so he wouldn't have to go through that again. He got a hand free and pushed Dean's hand away and moved his tongue in his mouth. "That was awful," he told Dean, trying to rid of the flavor. Why must his taste buds come when he least wants them?
Dean nodded and got off of Cas, helping him sit back up. “Here. Drink,” he held the cup up to Cas’s lips. “I know it sucks. But it’ll help. I think I saw some honey flavored cough medicine at the store the other day. I’m gonna have Sam get you some,” Dean said, pulling out his phone and sending a text message to Sam. “Is there anything else you think will help?”
Castiel took the cup and drank from it first. He was not happy that the impostor grape flavor had affected the first few sips.
"I don't know, I don't usually think about human healing," Castiel told Dean. He'd seen it as he watched humanity, but it didn’t mean he focused on it.
“No, Cas. I mean like any comfort foods or something. I would offer you a burger but I’m betting your sinuses are gonna get bad soon and you kinda lose your taste a bit when your nose gets stuffy. If not that’s okay. You just really need to rest,” Dean looked down at his phone as he sent the text to Sam. “Are you feeling tired enough to sleep yet? You can’t be up all night.”
Castiel's eyes were already feeling heavy after the fit he had against the medicine. "I already was tired before you tricked me," he pointed out, still a bit of sickness sass in him.
Dean couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth turn up. “I didn’t trick you. I told you I’d get you to take it one way or another and I wasn’t lying. You forget I raised Sammy. You’re not the first brat that didn’t want to take their medicine. You two are lucky I care about you. I could’ve shot you with a BB gun to make you comply.”
Castiel squinted at him. "You wouldn't." Though the slight smile on Dean's face was a good sight to see. The older Winchester needed to smile more. "And I'm not a 'brat'," he said, using air quotations. "For understandably disagreeing with that substance."
Dean chuckled. “Don’t tempt me. Just cuz you’re sick doesn’t mean I’ll give you full mercy.” He shook his head, “And yes Cas, refusing a substance you know will help you simply because it tastes bad is being a brat.”
Castiel made no comment and just drank from his cup again. But his grip was loose and hadn't noticed his body starting to shiver after Dean had gotten off his lap. Apparently, heat was a necessity when sick.
Dean did notice the angel’s shivering and went to a supply closet somewhere in the bunker and came back with three blankets. He laid them on the bed, putting one on the angel for now. “Look I’m gonna put these in the drier so when they’re done, they’ll be warm for you okay?” Dean said before leaving to put the two blankets in the drier.
When Dean left, Castiel had pulled the blanket close around him and laid down. He noticed his throat felt a bit better, which made him feel a bit guilty for his behavior before. Dean was the expert when it came to human illnesses so Cas should have known better. He curled up under the blanket and his eyes shut not long after. He just didn't like feeling helpless.
Dean was back into the room soon, seeing Cas’s eyes closed and body still. The tea was nearly gone on the nightstand as well. “Are you awake?” Dean whispered softly, so if Cas was on the edge of sleep and consciousness, it wouldn’t be too much of a disturbance.
Castiel made no response, having fallen asleep not three seconds after his last train of thought. He was so tired. Mentally and now physically for the past few days. Castiel had his head on the pillow, covers beneath him, and cocooned in the fuzzy blanket. His eyes were shut, and his face was relaxed from his usual stern expression as he breathed deeply.
When there was no reply, he felt safe enough to let his fingers brush against the angel’s cheek softly. It hit him then that his best friend was an angel—a warrior of the lord—had fought battle after battle and led armies and here Dean was wrapping him up and blankets and forcing medicine in him. He smiled at the thought and went into his room to wait for the dyer to finish. Once it did, he took one out and kept the other in to keep it warm and went to Cas’s room to switch out the cold one for a warm one. Once that was done, he left to get some sleep himself.
Two hours passed before Castiel woke up sweating. He pushed the blanket off but immediately felt freezing again like before. The sick angel shivered, his button up and slacks being both too hot and not warm enough. He sat up and looked around the room, seeing he was in his room in the bunker. Castiel didn't know what was happening and panicked a moment, wondering if this was the grace giving up. In his state, he fumbled for his phone and dialed Dean's number in his emergency contacts.
Dean jerked awake in the dimly lit room and answered Cas’s call, sitting up in his bed. His voice was heavy with sleep, but he powered through, concern still showing through. “Cas, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
"I-I'm not f-feeling well..." Castiel chattered through the phone. His body felt weak, and he wanted to fall back asleep, but his temperatures were all wrong.
“I’m coming. Hold on,” Dean said, keeping Cas on the line as he rummaged through the kitchen for some water and Benadryl. He came back and went into the angel’s room with a knock at the door before entering. “Jesus, Cas,” he cursed, setting everything on the nightstand. “You’re burning up. You can’t have all of this on,” Dean said after holding his hand to the raven-haired man’s forehead. “I know you’re gonna hate it but we gotta take all of these layers off. I know you’re cold but you’re burning up. You probably have a fever.” Dean turned to dose out the medicine and opened the water. “Take this. Just send it back. Don’t swish. Just straight back and chase it like a shot. It’ll calm this down,” Dean instructed.
Castiel had leaned into the warmth from Dean's hand before the man pulled away. Castiel would have commented that he'd never taken a shot before but nodded and took the medicine from Dean. His hand shaking but he drank it, his face twisting when he swallowed and took a long drink of water. "W-what's happening?" Castiel asked, despite Dean having said already. He'd never felt like this before and it was concerning to the falling angel.
“Well, like I said, you have a fever. It means your body temperature is too high. We need to cool it off as cold as you may feel. You can still stay in those clothes, but I’m telling you it will feel better to get some real pj’s on. And we gotta take these off. I know it sucks but we’ve got to,” he said, gently tugging at the blanket that were no longer warmed now. “The medicine will help fight it off and it’ll put you to sleep so you don’t have to deal with it. Benadryl’s good for anything that makes you miserable sick wise really,” Dean explained to the angel.
Castiel let the blanket go, not realizing he had pulled it back up. He looked up at Dean before at his sweat damp clothes. "That w-would be better." But Castiel didn't like the idea of having to be victim to the no doubt cold air. Still, the sticky feeling of the shirt was uncomfortable and he worked at his buttons.
Dean nodded his head. He pulled out some pajamas that he’d already put in the dresser drawers. He’d kept them in there in case anybody ever needed them but he had Cas in mind when he put them there. It was a faded AC/DC shirt of his and some plaid pajama pants. He set them on the bed and aided Cas in unbuttoning his shirt.
“Okay, here,” Dean said, pushing the shirt down the angel’s shoulders and helped put the t shirt on him. He looked back and couldn’t help but flush a red hue. He just couldn’t help it. His angel in his clothes made his heart swell. Fuck wait no, not his angel. Although he wished that were the case sometimes…most times..
The shirt went over Cas's head and the thin, loose fabric felt a little better than the tight button up. "Thank you," he said. But then he started unbuttoning his slacks to put on the other pants. They looked considerably more comfortable.
Dean realized he was staring and cleared his throat, turning around and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he waited for Cas to change into the new pants. “Ahem, is there anything else you need from me? Do you…need me to stay?”
Castiel kicked the slacks off, not sensing at first the awkwardness, and pulled the soft pajamas on. Same as the shirt, they were loose and gave warmth, but not too much. But he looked up at Dean's question. After what he woke up to, Castiel didn't prefer to be alone. "You can stay."
Once he heard the fabric of the pants being pulled up, he turned around. “Yeah but…do you want me to?” He emphasized. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome and he knew Cas was just the guy to agree to things he didn’t want for the sake of sparing feelings, especially deans.
Castiel looked up from where he was then back down. "I'd like you to stay, Dean," he confirmed, still cold from the t-shirt.
Dean nodded his head and moved the blankets off the bed besides the comforter. He took a seat in the chair at a desk in the room just after shutting the door. He tried to get comfortable on the chair as best as he could. His back was not that of his teenage self anymore. “Get some sleep Cas. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
Castiel was laying on the bed again with his back to Dean but could still feel him there in the room. Him being there made him feel better for some reason. Maybe a human comfort thing, but he just shut his eyes and let him drift off, nodding his head at what Dean said. If anyone, Dean could keep Castiel safe, so he tried to ignore the cold and fell asleep.
Dean ended up falling asleep behind him thirty minutes later. The chair was quite uncomfortable but he’d do anything for that angel. He woke up three hours later, being careful and quiet to go make Cas some breakfast. He made him some blueberry oatmeal and some tea with honey in it. He knew caffeine really wouldn’t help his state right now. He brought it to the angel’s room on a tray, a piece of jellied toast in his own mouth.
Castiel took a little longer to wake up, but when he did, he noticed his mouth was drier than before. Was that normal? Castiel squinted his eyes open but shut them again at the realization that he'd be waking up. He had found out he wasn't the best morning person, and even worse when sick.
Dean said softly. “Mornin, sunshine,” his mouth quirked up at the corners as he looked down at the grumpy angel. “Made you some eggs and bacon, some biscuits too. I think you’ll like those. They’re fluffy and soft.” ‘Like you,’ he left unspoken. “And I put more honey in your tea. Do you need help?” Dean said, arms ready to help set the angel up in the bed.
"I'm an angel," he said back, his voice more gravely from sleep. "I don't need help sitting up." But made no move to do so and proceeded to try to go back to sleep.
Dean’s smile faded a bit. “Cas, C’mon. You’ve been asleep for eight hours now. I was here for four of em. And I can tell you weren’t awake when I came in. C’mon. You need to sit up and eat. Then you can go back to sleep I promise,” he said softly. Cas would need more sleep, but his body also needed food in it.
Food did sound good, Castiel being a little more awake this time around. He wasn't too unused to having to eat and sleep, more of the latter. Castiel sighed but nodded, twisting till he was in a sitting up position. He used to headboard to keep him up. "Food?"
Dean nodded. “Biscuits, eggs, bacon,” he placed the tray on the angel’s lap. “Tea with extra honey and then a water too if you need something cold to actually eat with.” It took everything out of Dean not to lean over and kiss the angel’s hair. He looked so soft and vulnerable like this. He would cook for Cas and take care of him for the rest of his life if he could afford to just be here with the angel. And if he could brave up and tell Cas he wanted him to stay.
Castiel let a soft smile slip onto his face at Dean's effort. "I appreciate it Dean," he thanked and first drank some of the tea. It helped get his mouth some moisture and the honey in it was good on his taste and throat. Castiel used the fork to eat some of the eggs and decided he wouldn't mind staying like this a little longer if it meant he could taste Dean's cooking.
Dean was impatiently awaiting Cas’s reaction to his food. He waited intently and when Cas didn’t say anything towards the taste, he couldn’t hold back. “So? What do you think? Be honest,” he asked, eyes full of hope he’d really pleased Cas with his cooking. He loved cooking people meals they enjoyed.
"It's very good," Castiel said, swallowing his bite before hand. "I've certainly been missing out as an angel. Sadly we can't taste many things." He ate another piece of the eggs before picking up the biscuit to try.
“Yeah?” Dean couldn’t help the childlike smile that came upon his features. “What about the biscuits? Do you like those? I have jelly too if you want that. I have uh strawberry and grape,” he offered.
Castiel couldn't help but find Dean's eagerness and excitement amusing and adoring. "Yes Dean, you're cooking is delicious," Castiel told him. "And I'll try the strawberry. Grape is ruined for me now."
Dean smiled in delight at that. He loved making Cas happy. He rarely ever saw it. He couldn’t help but grin at the angel’s sass. “I don’t regret it because at least you’re not in a coughing fit,” he said. “But yeah I can get that for you. One sec,” he said before making his way to the kitchen and grabbing the strawberry jelly and a butter knife. He brought both to Cas on his bed, trying his best to hide his giddiness.
Even low powered, Castiel could see behind Dean's facade but didn't say anything. While Dean was gone, Castiel had almost finished his eggs and drank from his honey flavored tea.
Dean had to control his beaming. “Glad you like it. I got more biscuits if you want seconds. Sam didn’t want biscuits because ‘it’s too much gluten’.” He used air quotes, rolling his eyes with his tongue out. “Bite me. More for you.”
"Maybe later. Don't know how much I'll eat." Castiel wasn't terribly hungry right now, but the food provided was much better than the diners he'd been eating from. He reached for the strawberry and put some on his biscuit. Taking a bite, the jelly helped the bread not be so rough on his dry throat. "That's better," he commented after he swallowed. Because he had manners.
Dean nodded his head and smiled. “Course. I’ll put it in the fridge for you. Do you need anything else while I’m in the kitchen? Juice? More water? Anything?” He asked
"I'll be okay," Castiel reassured him. He had half the biscuit, one bite of eggs, and three bacon pieces left on the tray. The tea was finished in the top corner.
Dean nodded his head and headed to the kitchen to put the jelly back up in the fridge and to clean up. He spent about ten minutes doing so before he came back into the room to check up on the angel.
Castiel had finished the eggs and two of the bacon pieces before he couldn't eat anymore. He carefully put the tray on the chair Dean had been on. The cup had fallen off but it was empty so it didn't make a mess. Castiel didn't have the energy to get up and pick it up, a full stomach affecting his drowsiness and he settled back down. Dean said once he ate, he could sleep so.
Dean walked in to see the angel sound asleep. He smiled softly and went to pick up the tray and cup and clean it up in the kitchen again. He didn’t know whether Cas wanted space or not at the current moment so he frequently checked up on the angel rather than staying in the room with him. And by frequent, it was every hour if not less than an hour for the rest of the day and the next, happily providing him with home made meals and getting his opinion on them as well as being able to take care of his sick angel.