Fic - Snowmen - Dean/Cas - PG13 - Part 4
Title: Snowmen
Author choc_freckles
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: WIP
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Warnings: None, no spoilers
Summary: Dean gets a mysterious illness after he and Sam exorcise some peculiar demons
Author's Notes: asked for fluffy Destiel prompts, and got "playing in the snow", which is not at all what this turned out to be, so I am so, so, so, sorry about that.
Also on AO3.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Jody came by later that evening with the promised medical equipment. She inserted the IV in Dean's arm while he was still sleeping, eyeing Castiel as she worked. This was the first time she'd met the angel, and while it was awkward having a conversation over Dean's frigid body, they seemed to get on well enough. Sam watched Jody carefully as she instructed him, nodding occasionally as she talked.
Jody dragged Sam down to the kitchen and had him practice on all the fruit that Bobby had in the fridge, muttering all the while that Bobby didn't have nearly enough fruit at all.
"Bobby Singer, how you manage to avoid scurvy is beyond me!" she hollered at one point. Sam snickered into his palm, but stopped when Jody turned her glare on him. He went back to practicing.
Jody was satisfied after about 45 minutes, and gave Sam directions for changing out the IV bags and tubing if need be.
"How much longer do you think you'll need to do this?" she asked quietly.
"We've got something in the works for Saturday night, so, two days."
Jody nodded. "All right. I'll have to get you some more saline then. I didn't bring enough for that many days." She stood and stretched, her long arms reaching overhead. "I'll be back tomorrow night with the supplies. Meantime, you call me if you need anything else." She walked through the living room to the front door, waving at Bobby as she went. Bobby grunted in her general direction, engrossed in one of his books of lore.
Bobby looked up when Sam came in. "Go okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Not sure it'll help, but it's something." Sam rubbed his hand over his face. He was tired. Worrying about Dean was taking its toll, and he hadn't slept well since they'd gotten to Bobby's, despite the fact that normally he slept really well here.
"You should get some rest, Sam," Bobby said.
Sam grunted. "So should you." Sam gestured at the tome that Bobby was staring at. "What's that one?"
"Useless, is what it is." Bobby slammed it shut, disturbing a great cloud of dust as he did so. "Nothing in here about curses. Or demonic snowmen." He glared at the book as if it had personally offended him. "Demonic snowmen. Jesus wept." Bobby stood with a groan, curving his spine back a bit and twisting to get out the kinks. "You hungry?"
Sam shook his head. "No. I think I will try to get some shuteye. Don't stay up too late."
"Don't try to mother me, Sam Winchester."
Sam flapped his hand at the older hunter as he turned out the lights in the living room. He collapsed on the sofa and pulled the blankets up over his torso. The moonlight was bright, casting the shadows of the windowpanes onto the floor of the room, and Sam threw his arm over his eyes so he could try to sleep. The next two days were going to be long.
Sam woke the next morning feeling as if he'd forgotten something important. He lay on the couch, blinking the sleep away from his eyes as he tried to remember what it might have been, but nothing came readily to mind. He stretched, trying to get the kinks out of his legs and back (he was really too tall to be sleeping on the couch, but there really wasn't much of a choice) and stood. It was early yet, the sun just peeking up over the horizon, so he wasn't really expecting anyone to be awake.
He stumbled into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee as quietly as he could. He dug three mugs out of the cupboard and opened the fridge in a vain attempt at finding any milk or creamer for the coffee. As he suspected, a hopeless endeavor.
He poured the coffee into the cups and took several sips out of one of them. Balancing the three cups as carefully as he could, he headed upstairs. The door to Dean's room was ajar, and he could hear quiet conversation from within. He felt a small wash of relief at that - one of the voices was clearly Dean's. He was awake, and that was good, since he'd spent most of the previous day sleeping.
Sam hesitated to enter the room, but before he could tiptoe away, he heard Cas call his name. Sam pushed open the door with his toe and poked his head inside. "I have coffee, if you're interested."
The sight that greeted him wasn't much different than the previous day, only Dean was actually sitting up now, looking irritably at the IV that was in his arm. Cas was still in position next to Dean, hair mussed and sticking up in all different directions. It looked as if the two of them had both just woken up, and Sam tried not to think about the fact that they looked very much like a married couple sitting up in bed.
Dean nodded at the coffee. "That's great, Sammy, thanks."
Sam rolled his eyes internally at the fact that Dean still called him Sammy after all these years, after the huge number of times that Sam had asked him not to. It occurred to him that that was most likely the reason why Dean insisted on still calling him Sammy: because it annoyed the shit out of him. Now was not the time, however, to be a dick about something that was really kind of small potatoes. He handed one cup of coffee to Dean and offered another to Cas, who raised an eyebrow and then apparently decided that he could use some. He took the proffered cup and sniffed at it experimentally before taking a tiny sip.
Sam perched on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"
Dean shrugged. "Cold. But this IV is working. That your idea?"
Sam nodded. "Jody did it, showed me how just in case we need to put another one in."
Dean raised his eyebrows at that. "Jody, huh?" He tilted his head just to the side and cocked a grin at Sam.
"Yeah, you are feeling a little better."
Dean snorted. "Whatever." He drank some of the coffee, making a face at it as he did. "Dude. This is cold." He handed the cup back to Sam.
Sam grasped the cup and hissed as the hot ceramic touched his sensitive palms. "Uh, it's not cold, Dean."
Dean frowned. "What the hell are you talking about? It's cold!" Dean grabbed the cup away from Sam and took another sip, shuddering as he did. "Cold." He handed the cup to Cas. "Right, Cas?" Cas took the cup and dipped his finger in the coffee. He shook his head and handed the cup back. Dean gave Cas a disgusted look and resisted the urge to throw the cup across the room. "Whatever," he said again, lacking anything else.
Sam frowned. "Dean," he began, but Dean cut him off with a raised hand.
"Forget it Sammy. Just...forget it. What's the story on the counter curse? Cas was just telling me that you guys were working on something."
Sam launched into an explanation of what he and Bobby had come up with, including their reservations about how simple it seemed to be, given the seriousness of Dean's condition. Dean listened quietly, his lips pursing in displeasure as Sam went on. "I don't like it, Sammy."
Sam grimaced. "I don't either, Dean, but unless you have any other suggestions..."
"I don't know, Sam! All I know is that I'm freezing my ass off here, and I'm getting really tired of being in bed all the time. I can't even enjoy it because I'm so friggin' cold and..." Dean trailed off, his eyes flicking over to Cas, who was sitting silently next to him. Cas looked at Dean, eyes wide and guileless.
Sam cleared his throat and gulped down the rest of his coffee. "Uh, yeah. So, I'm gonna go take these mugs downstairs, and, um. Yeah." Sam gathered up the mugs, including the one that Cas was holding (he'd barely drunk any of it, but he didn't protest when Sam took the cup) and left the room as quickly as he could. Dean just groaned and put his face in his hands.
"Cas," he said quietly. "Can't you just...mojo me better or something?"
Cas raised his hand but then dropped it back into his lap. "No, Dean. If I could, don't you think I would have done so earlier?"
"Yeah, I know. This just really sucks." Dean's words were muffled by his hands. "Really sucks. I don't know if I can handle another day of," Dean waved one hand to encompass the bed, the room, the entire situation, "this."
Cas wasn't sure how to answer, so he just sat in silence.
With nothing to occupy them other than waiting, the time passed agonizingly slowly. Dean, who was already irritable, became crankier as the hours dribbled by. Cas put up with as much of Dean's pissy behavior as he could, but he finally snapped late on Friday evening.
"Dean! Stop! What's the point in complaining if you can't do anything about it until tomorrow night?" Cas folded his arms across his chest and looked at Dean, his brows lowered over his eyes, which were flashing in anger.
Dean pursed his lips. "Goddammit Cas, if I can't complain, then what the fuck can I do?"
"Sit there quietly?" Cas asked.
Dean snorted. "You know me better than that."
"Hmm. Yes," Cas said quietly. "I realize that you find this awkward." He waved his hand indicating that he meant the situation. Dean just snorted again, but he did glance at the door with a worried expression on his face. "Do you want to talk...?"
Dean took stock of the situation before he answered Cas's question. He was lying in a bed huddled next to Cas, and had been for nearly a full day, with a few breaks for the bathroom. Cas had been at his side constantly, something that hadn't really happened ... well, ever. This kind of thing was just...weird. Weird as fucking hell, and what was weirder was the fact that Dean wasn't as freaked out about this whole thing as he thought he'd be.
Sure, he was cursed, and that fucking sucked. That bothered him more than anything. He was well aware of the looks that Sam and Bobby were throwing his way. They were irritating, and a little embarrassing, but other than that, he figured that he didn't give two fucks.
But this forced down time? Well, that wasn't so bad, although he wished that he could enjoy it a little bit more than he was. This extra time with Cas? That was kind of cool, and now that he was really thinking about it, he realized that he was kind of wasting an opportunity to talk to the angel and ... what, exactly? Bond sounded too chick flick, get to know the angel wasn't quite right, because he knew Cas, and Cas certainly knew him ... but there was a chance here, to get to just hang out with Cas, and he was blowing it.
And really, how much of a chance did he get to hang out with anyone, let alone his best friend?
Yeah, no chance. So why was he being such a dick about the whole thing?
He turned his head so he was looking at Cas. That may have been a mistake, as Cas was very, very close to him, as they were both lying on the bed, sharing the furnace of Cas's warmth. Dean pulled his head away just a fraction so he felt like he had some of his own breathing space. "Sorry, Cas. I know I've been a real asshat."
Cas smiled at that. "One of your many talents."
Dean snorted with laughter. "Something like that." Dean paused, wondering what to say next. Something occurred to him. "So, Cas, do angels get, like, down time?"
Cas's brow furrowed as he thought about the question. "No, not really. We are not always actively at work, but if we're not, we're usually in training." He paused, staring at the ceiling. "It can be ... unpleasant."
"Unpleasant? How?"
Cas moved his shoulder up in a shrug, brushing against Dean's shoulder in the process. "Individuality was never encouraged, Dean. Ever since I met you..."
Guilt swooped through Dean. Because of course, Dean had managed to make life difficult for yet another person that he cared about. He sighed.
Cas looked at him. "I didn't tell you this to make you feel guilty, Dean. It is what it is, nothing more." His eyes held a note of something Dean couldn't quite identify, an emotion that Dean wasn't quite familiar with. "My place hasn't been with the angels for a long time."
Dean swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He held his breath, afraid to move, afraid to disturb the silence that settled between them as Cas stopped talking. Cas turned on his side so that he and Dean were now facing each other. Cas lifted his hand hesitantly, as if he were gentling a wild beast and wanted to ensure that Dean would not startle.
Probably not far from the truth, Dean thought, as he tracked Cas's handed closely. Cas cupped Dean's cheek with his palm. "My place is here. You once told me that you needed me, do you remember?" Dean nodded slowly, as if he were under water, his movements slowed by the weight of Cas's words. "I think..." Cas licked his lips, and Dean's eyes flicked down to stare at the movement. When Cas spoke again, Dean refocused on Cas's eyes. "I need you, too."
"Oh."
Cas pulled his hand away slowly, sensing that he had somehow placed too much on Dean's shoulders.