The Sun Doesn't Rise in Heaven { Destiel }

5 ' In Which a Fever Strikes

His mother has been healing the internal wounds, but holes still gape wide and red in the skin. Dean's hands glow a strong blue, his magic strengthened from his rest.

"You're quite boring," he states. "I should just let you die. It would be a mercy, I'd think."

Cas makes no reply, as usual. Dean starts to talk, telling him how he slept, and that he despised the idea of having to come back to him. He relives walking the field of bodies, calling him a murderer. He tells Cas that his father will not suffer his presence here once he awaken.

Dean's lip curls after the statement. "My father," he says in disgust, "can be most insufferable."

And now, instead of berating Cas, Dean begins to vent. Cas is unconscious, so he feels no need to curb his tongue. He describes his ignorant father, his brother that always tries to save him no matter the risk, how many times he's almost lost his mother because of how often she protects the weak. He he often wonders what his life would be like without the three.

"Although I do love them," he admits begrudgingly, his eyes glaring at Cas's stomach. "In the way that all sons must love their fathers and mother, and all brothers must love one another."

But Dean has always wanted more out of his life. He will not be king – that will fall upon the older prince – so what is left to be his? Perhaps this is why his lust for searching is so great. Maybe he thinks he can somehow change the course of what is to be. But for that, he must gather all the magic and knowledge and power he can muster.

"And that includes whatever magics and knowledge you have hidden," he decides out loud, staring at Cas's wounds. "You'll owe me, if you survive."

---

"What is this?" John asks his son, waving a paper clenched in his fist. "You say you can explain?"

"I can," Sam replies.

Kneeling before the throne, he tells his father everything in grand detail. Sam finishes his tale with the recounting of the healing his brother and mother are doing for Cas in the infirmary, and John cannot help but let out a huff of breath.

"Mary made mention of the foreigner," the king growls, unclenching his fist from the barbarians' demand. He reads the message again, and looks down upon his son. "So our enemies lie. The man is not theirs."

"He is not," Sam states, rising from the floor to accentuate his point. "They have no right to demand him from us."

John crumples the letter once more, disgusted by the words his enemies have thrown at him and his kingdom. He looks again to Sam. "And he saved you, you say?"

"Yeah, he did."

"And he fought them alone, you say?"

"Yes."

An idea is slowly forming in John's mind. But first, he must see for himself. "Show me."

---

The weeks pass agonizingly slow. Dean finds Castiel boring. Not even his belongings interest him anymore. He wonders why he keeps going back. Why he continues talking at him each night. He can't help but talk. Otherwise, he brings books to read, knives to sharpen. 

Sam has long since quit the sickroom, his stomach roiling uncomfortably at his helplessness. However, Cas is getting better. Mary has worked tirelessly to knit his insides whole once more. Soon, the surface of his skin will piece together as well, the nine willing. Dean finds that the more he works with Castiel, the better his healing becomes. Rather than be proud of Cas for fighting to stay alive, or be proud of his mother for her magical care, he is proud of himself and his accomplishment.

He tells Cas so, bragging about himself into the silence. Cas cannot hear him, or he surely would have rolled your eyes.

It is the next week that the fever strikes.

The nurses fear that even the Allmother's magic is not enough to save him. She spends the entire day by his side while the women and Olav change the cool washcloth on his forehead. The queen is entirely spent by the time her youngest son saunters through the door.

He pauses at the sight of his mother's exhausted face. Something is wrong.

"What has happened?"

"A fever," Mary replies, fighting to keep her eyes open.

"Help her to her room," Dean orders one of the servants, who hurries to comply.

Mary is too tired to argue, barely able to stay on her feet as she leans on the servant to walk.

"Why was I not summoned?" Dean hisses angrily at the three nurses, all of whom look as spent as his mother.

"Prince Dean, we –" one of the women begins, but he cuts her off.

"Get out!"

He does not wish to hear them say they did not think he would come.

He sits in his chair by the bed, immediately leaning forward to place his healing hands upon Cas. The skin is hot beneath his fingers, a light coating of sweat on his face.

Dean does not talk tonight. He does not read. He solely focuses on keeping Castiel alive. Dead, he is nothing to him. If he dies, his secrets die with him. And he cannot have that.

It is deep into the night when Cas starts to stir. Dean has never focused solely on his face, preferring Cas a mindless body to a living person, but he has no choice when he feels Cas move. His eyes open, heavy with fever. They are like the steel of a sword just polished. As blue as Asgard's oceans.

He leans closer, to ask him questions, to see if he can display his magic, but before he can speak, Cas's voice grates across his lips.

He speaks a name Dean does not recognize. In his tone, there is wonder. He can hear it, and it makes him pause.

"You're alive," Castiel says, and leans forward, kissing Dean quickly on the lips.

Castiel's lips are feverish on Dean's , and there is a deep need in his action.

Dean jerks away, his mouth hanging open slightly. Cas's brow crinkles as he searches Dean's face, the recognition slowly leaving Cas's features.

"You're not.... Your eyes are wrong," Castiel mutters, and then slips into darkness again.

It takes a lot to stun the youngest Winchester Prince. He does not know who Cas thought he was in his fever dream, but he had not been expecting any of that. He touches a hand to his lips, disgust slowly spreading across his features. How dare he? He is a prince! Who is he to lay his lips upon his without consent?

Castiel's voice echoes in his mind all night as his magic works to repair his body. Cas does not wake again, and when Mary comes for Dean in the morning, he tells her nothing of what occurred.

A/N pls tell me what you think so far! The plot has just begun-