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Chapter 23

Shout out to the awesome person known as @officialcastiel for the awesome new cover for this story!!!! You are amazing!

Castiel awakes one morning, feeling absolutely horrible. He feels nauseous and his head pounds. Dean is already awake, feeding Mary in the kitchen.

Cas groggily rolls out of his bed, his stomach lurches.

He rushes to the bathroom and vomits into the toilet. His breath is heavily and labored. He struggles to stand, using the sink as a way of getting up. He glances at his reflection in the mirror. He looks absolutely horrible. His face is extremely pale with dark bags under his eyes.

He stumbles back to his bedroom using the wall for support. He falls back into bed, feeling extremely weak.

"Hey, I thought I heard you up," Dean stands in the doorway, Mary on his hip. Cas groans.

"Are you okay?" Dean asks in concern.

"I feel sick." Cas groans.

"One second." Dean leaves. He returns moments later without Mary. "We don't want her sick." Dean sits on the bed next to his groaning husband. He brushes his hand against Cas' forehead.

"You're burning up." Dean sighs. "How do you feel."

"Like a million bucks," Cas grumbles sarcastically.

"I see, I'll be back." Dean stands, the bed shifts from the absence of his weight. He returns minutes later, carrying a wet rag and a bucket. Dean presses the rag against Cas' warm forehead and sets the bucket on the ground by the bed. From it he pulls out medicine.

"Here, take this." He hands Cas two pills and a glass of water from the nightstand.

Cas gulps the water down, washing the pills with it.

"Now get some rest." Dean gently commands. "I'll take care of Mary, you just sleep and work on feeling better."

He stoops down and kisses Cas' cheek. He leaves, chatting the door silently.

Cas lets sleep take over. His dreams are odd and he hardly remembers them when he wakes up sometime later. The only reason he wakes up is to throw up in the bucket next to the bed.

"You still sound terrible," Dean walks in.

"I feel like it too." Cas groans, laying back on the bed.

"Do you want soup or something?" Dean asks. At the mention of food, Cas starts heaving. Nothing comes up though. "Okay, I take that as a no." Dean pats his back softly. "What do I do to take care of you?" Dean asks. "You never get sick."

Dean can only recall one time Cas has ever been sick. That was back in high school, senior year. It was a day of a big test. Despite his fever and upset stomach, Cas came to school anyways. Dean told him to stay home, that he could retake the test another day, but Cas, with his stubborn will, went. Dean had sat a few rows away, but he could still tell Cas felt terrible. His skin was extremely pale and was soaked in sweat. His breathes were coming in fast and he kept clutching his stomach. He ended up blowing chunks all over the place. It was pretty terrible. Not only did he get sent home, but the rest of the test was postponed.

Other than that, Cas has never been sick. Not even with a cold, which is miraculous. Dean seems to be the only one who gets sick. Though it isn't often, his immune system is pretty good.

"I need, water" Cas groans. He knows he is probably just going to throw it up. "And ginger ale is supposed to help calm my stomach."

"Okay, I'll be back." Dean hops up and leaves the room. Cas drifts off into a half sleep state.

He comes to and Dean is by the bed pouring a glass of ginger ale.

"Hey, drink this." He hands the cup to Cas. Cas sips it timidly. When his stomach doesn't immediately try to reject it, he drinks a bit more. His stomach churns, but doesn't try to bring the liquid back up.

Dean takes the cup and watches as Cas falls back to sleep. As Cas sleeps, he tosses and turns, groaning and moaning.

Dean knows a way to help with that. He turns to head toward the kitchen. But first, he stops by the living room to grab Mary from her play pen. He plops her in her high chair in the kitchen an sets to work.

He turns music on low, so he doesn't disturb Cas. It's a 70's and 80's radio station, playing all the good old songs.

"Aw yeah!" Dean grins when one of his favorites comes on. He grabs a ladle from the drawer and whips around to Mary.

"Carry on my wayward son!
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more!" Dean grins as he sings to his daughter.

She claps for him as he sings, does guitar solo, and drums to the song.

The song ends and Dean does a little bow.

"Thank you, I'll be here all night." Dean smiles, he turns back to the stove, purring hot water into a cup with a teabag within it. This is a concoction Bobby used to make when he and Sam had trouble sleeping or when they felt like crap. Dean never knew what was in it for the longest, until he got to adulthood actually.

Bobby would put a spoonful of honey, and a little bit of whiskey. It never failed to put them to sleep,  and Dean hope it works for Cas. He hates to see him uncomfortable in any sort of way.

He takes Mary from the chair then carefully carries the steaming cup to the bedroom, Mary trailing along.

"Stay here, papa is sick." Dean says quietly.

"Here?" Mary tilts her head.

"Yes right there, stay." Dean smiles softly and enters his bedroom. Cas is curled up in a ball, groaning.

"Hey, baby." Dean calls. "I have something for you." Cas slowly starts to wake. Dean sits beside him. Cas blinks his eyes open and locks his eyes on Dean.

"I notices you weren't sleeping all to well, so I made this." Dean hands the steaming cup.

"I don't think i should drink that." Cas sits up.

"Trust me, it helps." Dean hands him the cup. Some hair is stuck to Cas' forehead from sweat. Dean brushes it back in concern. Cas sips the warm tea. Thankfully not throwing it back up.

"What was that?" Cas asks as he finishes the cup.

"A secret blend." Dean takes the cup.

"Papa, you otay?" Mary asks, she creeps slowly from the doorway.

"No, sweetie, I'm sick." Cas groans.

"Kisses." She says simply, though it's sounds like she said tisses. Mary pads over to the bed.

She takes Cas' hand and kisses it, much like Cas and Dean do when she falls and hurts herself.

"Kisses." She smiles a bright smile.

"Okay, let's leave papa, alone. He needs to go night night." Dean lifts Mary up. She waves to her sick father as Dean carries her out. Cas falls asleep.

By the next day Cas feels better. Not well enough to eat a whole lot, but enough to get up and walk. Dean watches over him like a hawk. Any sign of him getting worse and Dean will shove him back to bed. It's great how living he is.