The Hand He Had Been Dealt | Destiel

Another Night

It wasn't until later in the evening that Dean could get up without feeling the need to vomit all over the place, only stumbling slightly as he moved into the kitchen, getting a glass of water and sipping on it tentatively. He only took two small drinks, not wanting to overwhelm his stomach, before he headed further into the house, following the noise of running water that came from the bathroom.

Dean found Castiel with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and his back to Dean, spraying Sam down with the shower head as Sam giggled when he shook his head, water flying everywhere. Instead of announcing his presence, Dean leaned against the doorway, watching the two of them with a soft smile on his face. 

Sam saw him first, his eyes lighting up before his smile fell, looking down shyly at his feet. Castiel glanced back after his reaction, his gaze finding Dean's before he gave him a small nod in greeting.

"Feeling better?" Castiel asked, grabbing the shampoo before turning back to what he was doing, pouring a sizeable amount into one hand.

"Fit as a fiddle," Dean replied, though he sat down on the toilet seat, his legs aching with the effort of standing when he felt so weak, "You doin' okay, kiddo?" He asked, turning his attention to Sam, who looked at him almost scared with his doe-like eyes.

"De, you not sick anymore?" Sam asked softly, shuffling towards the edge of the bathtub towards Dean. Dean nodded, reaching out his hand and ruffling Sam's soaked hair. 

"I'm feeling much better, Sammy, thanks to you and Cas," Dean replied, his voice warm as Sam's eyes lightened up just a little.

"Dean, could you tell me where the towels are? I'm afraid I couldn't find them," Castiel asked, looking at Dean with a hint of warmth in his eyes that made Dean smile just the littlest bit, standing and moving towards the cabinet where the towels were kept. Finding none, he frowned, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced back to Castiel.

"We don't have any clean ones," Dean muttered, his cheeks flushing with shame when Castiel looked at him with confused eyes, "I...haven't had the chance to do much laundry."

Castiel just offered him a patient smile, standing up and squeezing Dean's shoulder, "It'll be okay, Dean. I'll do your laundry tonight and you can start bringing it over when you bring Sam," He stated, not giving Dean a chance to refuse before he moved towards the door, looking back for just a moment, "I'll grab a towel and some pajamas for you. It didn't escape my attention that you've been out of clean ones."

Dean didn't get to say anything before Castiel exited the bathroom, leaving Dean and Sam alone. Dean looked to Sam, sighing, moving over and crouching in front of the tub, grabbing the shampoo and pouring it on Sam's head. He worked his fingers through his fluffy hair, debating on whether or not he needed to cut the long strands soon.

Sam didn't say much while Castiel was gone, seemingly lost in thought as Dean massaged the soap into his hair before spraying it away. He didn't even giggle like he always did when Dean ran the rag over his ticklish sides, barely jerking at the ticklish touch before looking at Dean with a blank stare.

"De? 'M tired," Sam muttered, shivering slightly when the spray of the shower turned off and left him in the cold air. Dean nodded, pulling Sam close and giving him a gentle hug despite the way he felt the water soaking into his shirt.