comment fic meme!
Following the results of the poll we took last month (don't make it easy on us or anything, guys, haha!), we've decided to hold a comment fic meme once every three months. This gives everyone time to write and prompt to their heart's content, and allows us mods to keep up with y'all. And we're starting right now!
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By the end of the whole thing, Sam was watching him suspiciously out of bleary eyes, and Dean was just plain watching him.
He went, though.
Which left Sam and Castiel staring at each other.
“I’m going to go do some research,” Sam said, and started to lever himself painfully out of the chair. Castiel folded his hands on the table.
“No, you’re not,” he said placidly. Sam turned his head slowly and gave Castiel a long, slow, and very slightly disconcerting stare. Then it drifted out of focus, and the effect was lost.
“…sorry, what?” Sam said.
“You need to sleep,” he said, firmly. Sam was staring at him with something between bewilderment and panic.
“…Cas?”
“You are unwell. I have read books,” Castiel said stubbornly. “You require sleep. Dean will not return until late, and it will not be unreasonable for you to be asleep then. Also, your laptop is in the trunk of the Impala where it is entirely useless to you.”
Sam’s mouth opened, then closed. Castiel could not help feeling a bit smug.
“I can’t sleep,” Sam said after a while, in a small voice, bleary and a little plaintive. He was shivering again, and Castiel made a note to get the extra blanket out of the closet.
“I have drugs,” Castiel said.
Sam blinked, and then made a strange sound it took Castiel a moment to realize was half cough, half laugh. “You have no idea how funny it is to hear you say that,” he said, and then broke into a true coughing fit that had Castiel worried he was going to choke.
He rubbed Sam’s back awkwardly.
“Cut that out,” Sam said when he could breathe again. “It’s weird.”
Castiel felt momentarily disappointed. “It doesn’t help?”
“Unh. Not really. Don’t tell Dean, though, it’s the only way I can get any touchy-feely time.” Sam made a strange hiccupping noise.
Castiel did not quite understand that, and settled for a stern, “Go to bed.”
“Sure,” Sam said, and got up. And just as quickly nearly fell over. Castiel caught him. “Wow,” he said. “I really…feel like crap.” Castiel frowned. He could feel the fever on Sam’s skin.
“Very well,” Castiel said. “That is it.”
He half carried, half dragged Sam from the kitchenette to the bed that seemed to belong to Sam, and dumped him in it. But gently. Sam curled up in a fetal position and shivered. Castiel went to find the medicines that he had purchased, and after careful reading decided two of the fever-reducer-pain-relievers should be sufficient. He poured them into his hand, got a glass of water, and offered them to Sam.
“Take these.”
Sam looked at him for several long moments, and finally reached out and took the pills, popped them in his mouth, and swallowed awkwardly before slumping back down. Castiel began pulling the covers out from under the younger Winchester, and Sam obligingly rolled over and around. After much labor, Castiel pulled the sheet up over Sam’s shoulders and tucked it in.
“Do you need something to help you sleep?” he asked. Sam’s eyes emerged from the heap of blankets to glare at him.
“Don’t drug me, Cas.”
Castiel was momentarily taken aback, both by the nickname and the tone of voice. He did not, however, let it last. He suspected that Sam was not entirely in his right mind. “I could sing,” he offered.
“Oh god,” Sam said, but it did not sound worshipful. He closed his eyes.
Castiel settled for humming. To his utter surprise, Sam’s shivering actually subsided, and he started to sleep. His skin was still hot and he would not be cured in the morning, but maybe he would be better. It was a start.
Not bad, Castiel allowed himself. Not so bad.
**
Dean returned late, as Castiel had predicted, and Sam had only woken up once. Castiel had poured two glasses of water down his throat before letting him go back to sleep.
The elder Winchester seemed slightly inebriated as he stumbled in and looked at Sam, frowning. “You know,” he said, finally. “I think Sam might be sick.”
Castiel paused. Looked at Sam, sweaty curls of dark hair on the white pillow. He cleared his throat.
“Really?” he said.
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I love that! 'Cause honestly if someone was rubbing my back while I was puking or something, I would be uncomfortable. But of course, Sam's going to take what he can get! Hee, so sweet.
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THANK YOU FOR FILLING MY PROMPT SO AWESOMELY ^_^
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*snort*
Cas and Sam need more BFF time. I love them.
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During Season Five Dean did seem to be trying not to pay any attention to Sam, so it's totally believable. I'm glad he finally realized though, I hope makes it up with a lot of caring and awesome big-brotherness!
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