Astronaut3 : Shake it off (the mark of Cain)

Dean kicked off his shoes and finally laid down on the bed, turning on his side so that he was facing Castiel. He shuffled a bit closer to the angel and smiled at him, but didn't really dare to touch him. He still felt too guilty.

Castiel didn't even hesitate at all. He wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, and kept him close, hooking his fingers into his shirt. After a deep breath, he finally relaxed, nested against the man he loved more than anything in the world.

Dean's throat tightened unbearably at that affectionate gesture. He hesitated for another couple of seconds, then finally wrapped his own arms around Castiel, holding him tight. He buried his face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling against his skin. "I love you", he said once again in a whisper.

Castiel's lips curled into a soft smile. "I love you Dean," he whispered back, sleepily. And peacefully fell asleep.

Unfortunately for him, though, early the next morning, he had to part away from his soulmate to roll to the other side of the bed, and even shoved both the covers and his T-shirt away, burning hot with fever.

Dean got the discared covers and shirt right all over him. So he could do nothing more than wake up with a distressed grunt. "Cas?", he murmured sleepily. "What's going on?"

Castiel didn't answer right away, trying to figure out where he was himself. He finally turned his head to look at Dean. "I- I'm too hot, I'm sorry," he replied sleepily.

Dean threw the shirt at the feet of the bed, propping himself up with his elbows. "I know that", he answered. It was never too early to delve in double meanings. "But so suddenly?" He reached for Castiel's forehead, touching it. He immediately retreated his hand. "Woah, you're burning up", he said with a deep frown.

"That's what I told you," Castiel replied, frowning slightly. He had not gotten the double meaning. Was too feverish for that right now.

"Yes, but this much is worrying", Dean commented, getting up. He bundled up Castiel in the covers again. "Sorry, but you need to stay warm. I'll get you some water, alright?" He felt up his forehead again, sporting a worried expression. Weird. How could an angel get a fever?

Castiel protested weakly, but nodded, and closed his eyes for a moment. He was mostly human right now too, and had used every single drop of stolen grace in his body. That was the reason why his now-human body was overreacting.

That was also the conclusion Dean reached as he went off to find some fresh water to give to Castiel. He put some tea up to boil too, disregarding the burger Sam had put on the side for the angel. He doubted he had the strenght to eat that. He went back to his room with tea, and a couple of bottles of water under his arm. "Cas? Could you get up a bit, so you can drink?"

Castiel followed Dean's suggestion, and could sit down, but his head seemed extremely heavy right now. "I- I'm sorry Dean. I have no idea what is happening to me."

Dean sat down at his side, maneuvering himself to put the two bottles down on castiel's bedside table, and holding the cup for him. "Well", he started, "I am not a doctor, far from it, but I guess you overworked yourself. You used up all of your grace. And being... sort of human, your body went 'Hey. Hey. No. I go on a strike', and so you have a fever now."

Castiel sighed. "Do these usually last long?" He asked Dean, as he tried to take the cup of tea in his hands.

Dean helped him holding up the cup. "It depends on your body. I've heard that some people only get it for three days", he answered. "Sometimes it lasts a week." He observed Castiel, thoughtfully. "Maybe we should get on that grace-giving thing very soon." Yes. Yes, he was worried.

Castiel shook his head. "No, Dean. You- you need to rest too. If you give me some of our grace right now, we will go back and forth, me healing you, you healing me, until one of us collapses from exhaustion. Or worse." He took a sip of tea, frowning slightly.

Dean bit his lower lip. Castiel was right. It wouldn't have done any good, to any of them. But well. That didn't mean he had to like that. "I am giving it one week", he said finally. "I'll be rested enough by then. If this doesn't go away in one week, I am giving you my grace, no buts. And, until then", he added quickly, to block any protest, "you'll have to withstand me fussing over your health. I have a younger brother, I've dealt with so much of this stuff you can't even imagine."

Castiel couldn't hide back a small smile. "I guess I don't have much of a choice, then." Yet, the look he gave Dean was grateful, loving even.

Dean grinned at him. "Of course you don't", he answered merrily. "Try to get up from his bed. You'll see how much I don't joke", he warned him. But he did dip down to stel a kiss. He was addicted to that. How had he lived those past months?

Castiel kissed Dean back. "I love you, he whispered fondly to the human, before he kept on drinking his tea. Soon enough, the fever had him shiver, and snuggle under the blankets.

Dean observed attentively as Castiel drank his tea. "You cold?", he asked then, seeing him shiver. "Do you want me to get you another blanket?", he asked, immediately getting up.

"No, I- I should be fine," Castiel awkwardly answered. He quickly gulped down the remaining of his tea, and laid down once again, shifting significantly to where Dean had been a few minutes before, as if he could still feel his warmth there.

Dean raised a brow, watching as Castiel rolled to the middle of the bed, almost invading his own space. He scratched his chin, a bit embarrassed. "Do you, uhm. Want me to keep you warm?", he asked then. "I could come there under the blankets. Keep you company", he added quickly. He didn't want for it to sound dirty.

Castiel hesitated a bit. "If you don't mind" He shifted a bit to leave Dean some space, before he added, a bit awkwardly, "please." The angel wouldn't have thought of it as 'dirty' anyway. Yet he did not know that he looked almost scandalous, face a bit red from the fever, hair messy, eyes slightly clouded, breathing hard and, well, shirtless.

Dean swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, then nodded, proceeding to lay down on the free side of the bed, gesturing for Castiel to shuffle as close as he wanted. "It's unfair", he muttered. "I look like freakin' Zombie Night when I have a fever. Why do you look... this?", he asked, almost sounding irritated.