okay, yes, BUT! Dean leaves them in Cas' room on /purpose/ so he has an excuse to go see Cas. or for Cas to bring them to him. because we all know that those nerds get SUPER awkward afterwards because /sam/ and they probably smell like sex. so Dean's just like 'you know what? I'll just leave the socks.' ABC
i can imagine dean’s internal monologue being something like: ‘okay, you got this. you can do this. just go in there, say thanks for the sex, and you’re good…thanks for the sex!? no, you ass, you can’t just say that and then leave. say somethin’ like…like…your dick is nice. what!? jesus christ, this is hard. ha…that’s what he said. that’s what HE said!? i’m done. i’m out. i’ll just leave a sock in there or somethin’, and then he can find it later, and come talk to ME. yeah, awesome plan.’
Dean 100% leaves his dirty socks in Cas's room just so one of them has an excuse to be in the same room as one another. just so you know. ABC
okay, yeah, probably.
but also, you don’t understand. dean leaves his dirty socks EVERYWHERE. if he knows he’s gonna be in the bunker for a while, then he just kicks his boots off and walks around in his socks because screw it, y'know? but then have you ever had one of those itches on the bottom of your foot where just scratching it through your sock isn’t good enough? you just absolutely have to take your sock off to scratch the skin directly?
dean gets those all the time. i get ‘em too, it’s from wearing big, clunky boots a lot. anyway. he literally just takes the sock off, drops it where he is, and then forgets that he’s just taken his sock off, until his foot starts to get cold later. at which point, he just gets up to put another sock on, completely forgetting that he’s left one laying on the floor/table/chair.
sam’s found them in the kitchen, in his bedroom, in the library, in the dungeon; which is a mystery within itself because why was dean just hanging out in the dungeon?
this nerd, people. realise how much of a dork dean winchester is.
Okay, I may have changed a couple of things, but I essentially stuck to the main plot. Ssh. Just look at the fluff.
NOW ON AO3.
“Dr. Novak, the patient in room seven is being uncooperative.”
“...Uncooperative?” Castiel’s mind immediately summons up images of nurses being attacked; meds being refused; other situations of general fuckery that are definitely not welcome in a hospital, and definitely not wanted on his shift, thank you very much.
“He’s built a pillow fort.”
Oh.
This is not the general fuckery that he’d been expecting.
- - - - - - - -
Dean Winchester, though he may have buried himself under what he calls his ‘fort of awesome’ - which, in actual fact, is just a clusterfuck of blankets and pillows haphazardly stacked atop his bed - is basically harmless. He’d been hospitalised a couple of days of ago with a suspected case of severe pneumonia, and now he’s apparently Castiel’s problem.
Yes, Cas has to deal with this manchild, who’s chosen to bury himself under a stack of pillows and blankets, when he already has a minimal amount of strength as it is.
If he’d wanted to work in paediatrics, then he would have specialised in it.
”Mr. Winchester, it’s time to-”
“Fight me,” comes a muffled voice, from somewhere underneath the ‘fort of awesome’.
“I...Excuse me?”
“I said,” a scruff of dark blonde hair pokes out from between a couple of pillows, followed by a pair of tired-looking green eyes, “fight me.”
Interesting.
And whilst the idea of being challenged to a fight by a patient who he’s fairly certain had been wheezing earlier is hilarious in his head, Cas merely lets out a small huff of amusement as he crosses the room. He’s pretty sure that he can see Dean’s eyes narrow as he starts to move the pillows off of the bed - seriously, where had he gotten all of them from? - so that he can check the young man’s vitals.
“Maybe later.”
He thinks he might see those green eyes brighten just a little.
- - - - - - - -
“Dr. Novak-”
“I’m on it.”
The nurses are the ones who give Dean his medication, so Cas is just popping in to check Dean’s vitals, as has become his custom over the past couple of days. This is the first time that Dean’s been awake since the whole ‘fight me’ incident, so Cas wonders whether he’s going to get a repeat incident.
“Afternoon, Mr. Winchester. Time to check your vitals.”
Dean glances over from where he’s sitting on his bed, back pressed against two of the pillows that had been used in the great fort debacle a couple of days prior, and his eyes narrow. Pale lips part, and Cas knows what’s coming next.
Except Dean can’t even get one word out before he starts up in a coughing fit, and Cas rushes forwards to help him lean forwards ever so slightly, placing one hand on Dean’s back, whilst the other rests firmly in the center of his chest.
It’s really quiet ironic that a man who apparently can’t even sit up straight without breaking out into a fit of coughing is so ready and raring for a fight. And again, Cas is struck with the hilarity of the situation, even though he maintains an air of utmost professionally. But it’s hard not to break, when Dean finally seems to settle, and fixes him with a stern look.
“Fight me,” Dean’s voice cracks, and instead of laughing, Cas finds himself breaking into a smile.
“I would, but I think you might win, and I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
- - - - - - - -
“I could kill for a coffee right now.”
“Dean, I don’t think caffeine is a good idea with the antibiotics you’re on.”
“No, you don’t understand. I’d literally murder for a coffee right now.”
“Dean, that’s-”
“He should be okay,” Castiel decides to step in on the argument between Dean and his brother, making his presence in the doorway known.
They both turn in unison to face him - which, y’know, kinda creepy, really - and Dean’s eyes zero in on the takeaway coffee cup that Cas has clenched in one hand, much like a lion that’s spotted its prey.
“Is that...?”
“Yes, it’s for you. Consider it a peace offering, in the hopes that you don’t ask me to fight you anymore.”
Dean, bless him, has the decency to look a little embarrassed as he steps forwards to take the cup from between Cas’ fingers. “Well, uh...Thanks, Doc.” With a glance back towards his brother, and then a soft smile directed towards Cas, Dean leaves the room.
His brother follows swiftly after him, an odd little look on his face.
And okay, maybe Cas hadn’t mentioned that it’s a decaf coffee, but hopefully, the number scrawled on the side of the cup in sharpie, underneath the words ‘fight me’ will help to soften the blow.
