#sick dean

[dean-winchesters-cherry-pie]

Ranking of my favourite versions of Dean Winchester with little to no explanation

[unkillablefargot]

Shared on TikTok and now here too. First time ever dabbling in editing. I just can’t resist the allure of Dean in that fucking hoodie

[1heartfanfics]

So this is going to be a destiel fic, set right after they get Dean back from being possessed by Michael in season 14. I haven't watched any of this season in a while so there will probably be some inaccuracies. This is also super self indulgent and not entirely canon or character accurate. It is also very long. Just FYI.

Note: This is fluffier than I usually write destiel because I feel like it's not super character accurate but oh well.

TW: depictions of vomit

"Woah dude, are you alright?" Sam asked as Dean walked into the dining room. It was almost noon, but Sam hadn't been surprised that Dean wasn't up yet. After all he'd been through hell the past few weeks. But Dean looked like hell too.

Dean shrugged, slumping down into a chair, which was... uncharacteristic to say the least. No snarky retort or eyeroll. Not to mention that he was ghostly pale with dark circles under his eyes, gaunt almost, with a sheen of sweat shining on his forehead.

"You want some coffee?" Sam nudged his mug forward toward Dean.

"Mm, no," Dean shook his head, quickly pushing the mug away from him back toward Sam.

"Hey, what's going on man?" Sam asked, leaning forward in his chair. Dean turning down coffee? Something must really be wrong.

"Feel like I got run over by a truck," Dean mumbled, dropping his head down into his hands, as if he could barely hold it up.

"Yeah, I'd say you look about like that too," Sam teased, expecting an eye roll or a smack. But Dean didn't even react.

"Seriously Dean, what's wrong?" Sam asked, feeling genuinely worried now.

"Don't know. Feel awful," Dean mumbled, shrugging.

Frowning, Sam stood up and walked to the kitchen to get Dean a glass of water. They could at least start there.

"Here, I got you some water," Sam said, setting it down on the table in front of Dean.

Warily, Dean picked up the glass and brought it to his lips with a shaky hand to take a sip. But almost instantly he set it down harshly, water splashing over the side onto the table. His face went a shade paler, which Sam hadn't thought was possible.

"Dean?" Sam asked, reaching over to grab his brother's shoulder.

But Dean stood quickly, knocking over his chair in the process, and bolted out of the room and down the hall. Sam blinked in surprise, confused, until he heard Dean retching. Shit.

Sam followed Dean down the hall to the bathroom, finding the door open. He stepped inside to find Dean hunched over the toilet. Dean coughed, which morphed into a gag, and brought up what looked like just stomach acid and bile.

"Jesus Dean," Sam breathed, moving to sit on the edge of the bathtub behind Dean. Tentatively, he reached out a hand to rest on his brother's shoulder, unsure if the touch would be wanted. Dean was stubborn, and usually when he was sick he didn't want any help from anyone, especially Sam. But to his surprise, Dean didn't react.

In fact, Dean just groaned, slumping over even further to drop his head down onto his arm. His body continued to convulse with heaves, but nothing was coming up anymore.

"Dude, I think you're done. Maybe you should go lay down, seems like you've got one hell of a bug," Sam said, squeezing Dean's shoulder.

"Can't" Dean groaned.

'Can't what?' Sam wondered. Can't leave the bathroom? Can't move? Dean didn't answer.

"Well lets at least get off the toilet" Sam said, pulling Dean's shoulder back until he was leaning up against the wall behind him.

He stood up to grab a thermometer from their medicine cabinet and checked Dean's temperature. 102.3. Yikes. No wonder he felt so sick.

"You need to take something for that fever, here," Sam said, opening their medicine cabinet to grab the ibuprofen. He poured out three pills and held them out to Dean, who swallowed them dry.

"You think you could drink some water?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean said quickly, shaking his head.

"Okay, we'll try later," Sam sighed. Hopefully the meds would do their job. "Do you want to go back to bed?" he asked.

Dean shook his head, swallowing convulsively. He must still be feeling nauseous.

"Well how about you at least lay down in here then," Sam suggested. Dean didn't answer, which Sam took to be an acceptance of the suggestion.

"I'm gonna go get you a pillow and blanket, okay? I'll be right back," Sam said.

When he returned, Dean didn't look like he'd moved at all. Still slumped over the toilet, shivering now. Sam reached over to lay the pillow down and set the blanket down next to them.

"Alright, here, why don't you lay down," Sam said. Wordlessly, Dean flopped down onto the pillow, silent as Sam draped the blanket over him, then reached up to flush the toilet.

"Do you need anything else?" Sam asked, feeling somewhat helpless. He'd never really had to take care of Dean, because Dean had never let him.

Dean didn't answer, his eyes had drifted shut. If he wouldn't drink any water, sleep was probably the next best thing he could do.

"Alright, just rest then. Hopefully you'll feel better when you wake up," Sam said.

But then Dean mumbled something. All Sam caught was 'Cas'.

"Cas?" Sam asked, "What about Cas?"

"I want Cas," Dean mumbled again. Sam's heart dropped. The fever must be so high it's making him delirious. He'd never say that in front of Sam in his right mind.

"Cas isn't here right now," Sam answered. "I can call him and see when he'll be back," he added, seeing Dean's face fall. His eyes were glassy, which was probably from the fever, but he looked like he was almost near tears. "I'll, uh, be right back okay? Hang in there," Sam said awkwardly as he stepped out of the room.

He pulled out his phone and called Cas, who answered after a few rings.

"Hello Sam,"

"Hey, Cas, where are you at?" Sam asked, not sure how to approach this conversation.

"I'm at the store doing a supply run, why?" Cas asked, understandably confused. Sam wouldn't normally call Cas out of the blue.

"Do you know when you'll be back?" Sam asked.

"Well I still have a few more errands to run... Sam what's going on?" Cas asked.

"Uh Dean's sick. Like pretty bad actually, I've never seen him like this," Sam finally explained.

"That makes sense," Cas said, "His body and his immune system are likely weak after being possessed by Michael for so long," he explained.

Sam hadn't thought about that, it did make sense. Dean was more or less dormant inside his own head while Michael was in control, so his own systems have been unused for a while and probably are weak. But Cas surprisingly didn't seem very concerned.

"He's throwing up, and he seems weak. He's got a fever of over 102," Sam went on.

"Did you want me to pick something up for him while I'm out?" Cas asked, still not understanding the gravity of the situation.

"He asked for you," Sam said.

Cas was silent for a moment at that.

"He asked for me?" Cas repeated.

"Yes. He's laying on the bathroom floor looking like he could cry or pass out at any moment and he said 'I want Cas'," Sam explained.

"I'll be home soon," Cas said, then abruptly hung up. Phone calls with Cas were always interesting. But at least he'd finally gotten how serious this was.

Although Sam knew that Cas and Dean were... something... it wasn't exactly out in the open. Sam had suspected for a long time, but had gotten somewhat of a confirmation from Cas a few years ago when Sam caught him coming out of Dean's room in pajamas one morning. Cas had reluctantly told Sam that although they'd never given it a label they were more or less 'together'.

Cas had also asked Sam to keep the conversation to himself, which is a promise he'd kept. He figured that if Dean wanted him to know he'd tell Sam himself. And so far he hadn't.

So for Dean to ask Sam for Cas like that, meant that he was really really sick.

Sam headed back into the bathroom, thankfully finding Dean in the same position he'd left him in, huddled under a blanket on the floor. He sat down on the floor near Dean's feet, leaning back against the bathtub.

"I just talked to Cas and he'll be back soon okay?" Sam said, reaching out to give his brothers leg a gentle pat. Dean groaned in response and curled in on himself further.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Dean suddenly shot up and lurched over the toilet, vomiting stomach acid and bile. He was clearly empty, with nothing left to bring up, but his body didn't seem to know that. He retched harshly, making Sam wince. It looked and sounded painful.

With the next heave Dean pitched forward so far he almost smacked his forehead on the toilet seat. Sam quickly reached out and grabbed Dean by the shoulder, holding him up as he continued to gag emptily.

"Oh Dean," Cas said sadly, appearing in the doorway. "I got him," he said, moving forward to take Sam's place.

Sam stood, letting go of Dean, as Cas swiftly took his place. Cas slid in behind Dean, wrapping one arm around Dean's chest to hold him up and placing the other hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing up and down his spine.

Almost instantly, Sam saw Dean relax a little. Even as he continued to retch and heave, he allowed himself to lean fully into Cas's arm, letting Cas take his weight.

"Cas?" Dean whispered, voice raw, as soon as he was able to breathe.

"I'm here Dean," Cas said, pulling Dean away from the toilet to lean back against his chest. "Shh, just relax," he said softly, reaching up to brush Dean's sweat damp hair off of his face.

"Could you grab a rag and wet it down a little?" Cas asked, turning his attention to Sam for a moment.

Sam nodded, quickly stepping out of the bathroom to grab a wash cloth from their hall closet. He brought it back, wetting it with cool water under the sink.

"Here you go," he said, handing it to Cas.

"Thank you Sam," Cas said, taking the rag and pressing it to Dean's forehead, to which Dean audibly sighed, leaning forward into Cas's hand. Cas gently dragged the rag over Dean's face before setting it on the back of his neck.

"He's burning up," Cas said to Sam.

Sam nodded, "I know," he winced.

"What did you say his fever was?" Cas asked.

"It was over 102 when I checked," Sam said, already reaching for the thermometer to check it again. He cringed when the screen showed 103.1, turning it around to show Cas.

Sam and Cas exchanged a glance, silently asking if this warranted a trip to the hospital. After a moment, Sam shook his head. For people like them, with no real identity, no insurance, the hospital wasn't really an option unless it was life or death. They weren't there yet.

"He needs to drink something. Maybe you'll have better luck than I did," Sam said, grabbing the glass of water from the counter and handing it to Cas.

"Dean? How are you doing?" Cas asked.

"Don't feel good Cas," Dean groaned, his words slurred.

"I know," Cas sighed, "Maybe you should try drinking some water, it might help," he tried.

"Mmm no," Dean shook his head.

"You're dehydrated Dean, it will help," Cas tried again.

"I can't," Dean rasped, sounding so small.

"Come on darling, just one drink. For me?" Cas practically pleaded.

Sam's eyes went wide at the pet name, but he didn't say anything. Even though he'd known for years now that this was... whatever it was... but seeing it so openly like this was still kind of a shock.

But apparently Cas's pleading was enough. Dean finally gave a hesitant nod. Cas carefully brought the cup to Dean's lips and tilted it slowly to give Dean a small sip.

They all waited apprehensively to see if the water would stay down, and it seemed like Dean's body was at least willing to accept one single sip of water. Sam counted it as a win for now.

"We still need to get his fever down," Cas said, frowning as he pressed the back of his hand to Dean's cheek, feeling the warmth.

Sam nodded, sighing, as he tried to think of anything else they could do. He racked his brain to try and come up with what Dean would've done if the roles had been reversed. That was when he remembered.

"When I was really sick during the trials, I got a super high fever and passed out this one time, so Dean put me in a cold bath. I think it worked cause I remember waking up and being a lot more coherent," Sam explained.

"Let's try it," Cas nodded in agreement.

Sam reached over to pull the stopper on the tub and turn on the water. He remembered reading somewhere that you shouldn't put a person with a fever in a cold bath, cause it can cause shock or something, but it just needed to be a little cooler than their body temperature. So Sam adjusted the temperature until the water felt lukewarm, then waited as the tub filled.

"Alright, I think that should be cool enough but hopefully not too cold," Sam said.

"Okay, help me move him so I can get up," Cas said.

Sam moved to stand in front of his brother, looping his arms under Dean's. He pulled him forward just enough so that Cas could slide out from behind him, then gently leaned him against the wall.

"Hey Dean," Cas said softly, crouching down in front of Dean to be at his eye level.

Dean cracked an eye open, "Cas I'm scared," he whispered.

Cas closed his eyes for a second, heart aching for Dean. Sam was right, he'd never seen Dean like this either.

"I know," Cas said sadly, reaching up to cup Dean's face in his hand.

"Why is this happening to me?" Dean asked, a tear slipping down his cheek.

"Your body is just recovering from being Michael's vessel. You'll be okay, I promise. I'll take care of you, okay?" Cas said, swiping the tear away with his thumb.

"Okay," Dean said quietly.

"We're gonna put you in the bath now, to get your fever down alright? It's going to be uncomfortable, but you'll feel better after," Cas explained.

Dean nodded, eyes looking glazed in a way that told Sam he wasn't really even comprehending what Cas was saying. He'd probably go along with anything right now.

"Lift your arms," Cas instructed gently, pulling Dean's t-shirt off.

That was when Sam realized that Cas was going to be taking his brothers clothes off. When Sam had been sick, Dean had put him in the bathtub with his clothes on. But Cas didn't need to do that because Cas was Dean's... person? Close enough.

"Uh, Cas, do you, uh-? Sam asked, trailing off.

"I got it, Sam," Cas nodded, understanding that Sam was asking if he was needed here.

Sam didn't need to be told twice, quickly exiting the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Although he was very worried about his brother, he didn't need to see him naked and being helped into the bathtub by his... angel? No, that one doesn't seem quite right.

Once Sam was gone, Cas helped Dean to his feet. Dean was shaky, but Cas held tightly around his back, keeping him steady as he pushed Dean's sweats and boxers down off his hips.

"Alright, step up with this leg," Cas instructed, tapping Dean's right hip.

Obediently, Dean lifted his leg and stepped into the water. When Cas tapped his other hip, he shifted his weight - with Cas's help - and stepped fully into the bathtub.

"No, Cas-" Dean gasped as Cas lowered him down into the water.

"I know, I know it's cold, I'm sorry. We have to bring your fever down though," Cas explained, reaching out to run his fingers through Dean's hair.

"C-cas," Dean said through chattering teeth, already shivering with lips tinged blue.

"I'm right here," Cas said, quickly grabbing one of Dean's hands in his. Dean leaned toward him, head coming to rest on Cas's shoulder.

"I've got you," Cas continued, draping an arm over Dean's shoulders, feeling how violently he was shivering. Cas's heart ached. He could hardly stand it, but he knew he needed to leave Dean in there for at least a couple minutes to get his temperature down.

When Dean let out a muffled sob into Cas's now very damp shoulder, he decided that was enough.

"Let's get you out okay?" he said, standing up. Dean whimpered, reaching for him. "You're okay," Cas said, wrapping an arm around Dean to help him out of the water.

It was even harder getting him out than it had been getting him in, because now he was shaking violently. But Cas managed to get him out and dried off. Dean was still shivering when Cas ran to grab him a fresh pair of clothes.

When Cas returned though, the shivering had slowed, and some color had returned to his lips and face. His eyes were clearer too, more aware.

"Cas?" he asked, as Cas set the clothes down on the counter.

"Hello Dean," Cas said, reaching out to cup Dean's cheek with his hand. The warmth was still there, but he no longer felt like he was burning with fever. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Dean sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned into Cas's touch for a moment. "Not great," he answered, opening his eyes to look up at Cas.

"You're pretty sick," Cas nodded, moving to run his fingers through Dean's hair before reaching over to grab the clothes he'd grabbed for Dean.

Although shaky, Dean was able to stand and get himself dressed, which was a large improvement over the state he'd been in just a few minutes ago.

"What happened?" Dean asked, sinking down heavily to sit on the closed toilet lid.

Cas sat down on the edge of the bathtub, facing Dean. "Your fever got so high we had to stick you in a cold bath to bring it down," Cas explained.

"We?" Dean asked.

"Sam," Cas said, "I wasn't here this morning but he called saying you were really sick."

Dean was quiet for a minute, processing. "So Sam saw me...?" Dean trailed off, not wanting to say what he was thinking.

"Naked? No. He took care of you until I got back but I sent him away before undressing you," Cas said.

Dean winced. "So he knows now I guess," he said.

"Dean, he already knew," Cas told him.

"What? Did you tell him?" Dean snapped, although there wasn't much bite. He was still too tired.

"He came to check on you one night, when you were having a nightmare, yelling woke him up. And he saw me laying with you. Once you'd calmed down I went to talk to him. Tell him that I'd just woken up from the yelling and come to check on you too. But Dean, he already knew. Said he'd suspected it for years," Cas explained.

"Oh," Dean said, confused. "I thought we kept it hidden well enough," he said.

"Apparently not," Cas chuckled.

"Well I guess there's no use hiding it now," Dean said.

"I guess not," Cas agreed, "Now let's get you to bed, your body needs rest to heal," he said, standing up and holding his hands out to Dean.

Dean hesitated, "I still feel a little nauseous."

"I'll put a bin next to the bed in case you need to be sick again," Cas said.

Dean thought for a moment, then seemed to accept that answer. He grabbed Cas's hands, letting himself be pulled to his feet. Dean swayed, vision darkening for a moment. But Cas was right there, wrapping an arm around Dean's waist to hold him steady as his vision cleared. Jesus. Dean's legs felt like jello, he wasn't sure he could make it to his bedroom.

"We'll take it nice and slow," Cas said, as if reading Dean's mind.

With Cas's hand pressed against Dean's lower back and his other hand on Dean's arm, they made their way slowly down the hallway to Dean's room. Cas helped Dean lay down, pulling the quilt up over him. Then he grabbed the trash can from the corner of the room and set it next to the bed, just in case.

Cas sat down at the edge of the bed, carding his fingers through Dean's hair. "Close your eyes," he said.

Dean sighed, but did as he was told. "I'm okay Cas. I can feel you worrying," he said.

"I'm allowed to worry about you," Cas answered. "And you're allowed to let me."

Dean didn't say anything. He wanted to protest, honestly, but he was so tired. His stomach still ached and his head pounded, but sleep pulled at him anyway. And so for once in his life, Dean gave in, and let someone else worry about him for a change.

[wincestwhispers]

Sam taking care of a feverish, sick Dean who is very out of it and keeps trying to take care of Sam. Dean will wake up and make soup at four in the morning cause he thinks, in his muddled mind, that if he’s sick then Sam must be too and he has to help him first

Sam ends up secluding Dean to their shared bedroom and spends most of his time right beside Dean on the bed so he can keep him from getting up repeatedly and making his illness worse. For once it’s Dean whose the human furnace and Sam has sympathy for when Dean would grumble and complain about sleeping near Sam in the summertime.

[27jj-fics]

Angel Mojo (SPN, Dean)

Title: Angel Mojo

Word Count: 318

Summary: Dean sneezes. A lot.

A/N: A lil treat for the Dean girlies- one of my rare sneezy!Dean fics lol. This is one of my deleted fics from LJ (originally written for a prompt); it has been edited/expanded for tumblr

“UHH-HTCHCHCH! hhmp-SHUH!”

“Dude.” Sam frowns. “Haven’t you heard of covering your face?”

“Cover your f-face…HEHH-HTCH’UH!”

“You’re right– I should cover my face. Then I wouldn’t be breathing in your germs.”

“ETCHSHSH!”

Sam narrows his eyes, but his expression changes when Dean sneezes yet again.

“HUH-HTCHSHSH! Hehh…hetchSHOO!”

“Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m f-fi-ehh-HRTSHCH!”

“Yeah, because this is normal-”

“Will ya boys shut up? Some of us are trying to figure out how to save the world over here.” Bobby stands and grabs a box of tissues from the table. “Sam’s right, none of us want that cold of yours.” 

He tosses the box, but it never reaches Dean. Instead, it’s intercepted by Cas, who appears in a rustle of wings.

“Why are you throwing things?” Cas asks, then holds out the box as Dean sneezes yet again.

“HRSHSHS-choo! Damnit, Cas, give some warning before you appear two feet in front of a guy,” Dean growls, grabbing the tissues as an afterthought. “And I don’t have a cold.” His red nose twitches in disagreement.

“You seem rather opposite from cold,” Cas says, his expression confused. “Your body temperature is much higher than Sam’s.”

“What? Dean, you didn’t tell me you had a fever!” Sam presses his palm to Dean’s forehead.

“I’m fine…HEH-CHCHSH! Don’t touch me, sasqua-HTCHSH!”

“I’ll make you some tea,” Sam says. “Go lie down on the couch.”

“I’m not going to- HUH’shuh! EhhSHOO!”

“You’re sneezing your brains out, boy. Go lie down,” Bobby orders.

“It is unlikely his brains will–”

“HPTSHSHS-ehh!”

Sam’s forehead wrinkles with concern. “Dean, seriously. We’ve got this– go rest.” 

“I’m not going to sleep. We have work to do.” Dean drags a sleeve under his nose, a determined look on his face.

“Cas could just make you, you know,” Sam smirks. 

Seconds later, Dean’s crumpling against Cas, unconscious.

“I didn’t actually mean it, Cas!”

“Go dump him on the couch,” Bobby sighs.

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 1x08 Bugs

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Although Dean isn’t happy about losing the steam shower, they decide to get out of the bug-infested neighborhood and spend the night in a motel instead. The bugs seem to have disappeared with the arrival of dawn, but the thought of a recurrence is too disgusting. They’re both still creeped out, itching and stinging all over, and, sitting in the Impala beside Dean, Sam can’t stop brushing at his hair and clothes as if the insects were still crawling all over him. 

“Stop scratching!” Dean swats at Sam’s hands.

“I’m not. I’m just…” He shudders. “I really need to get out of these clothes and take a shower.”

“I know what you mean.” Dean takes a quick look at himself in the rearview mirror and plucks a dead bug from his spiky hair. “Blech. Disgusting.” Refocusing on the road, he gingerly runs a hand along a growing welt on his neck. 

Sam studies him and notices more welts on his brother’s face.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks. “You look pretty swollen up.”

They both got stung multiple times, but Matt had assured them that - unless they were allergic - a normal, healthy adult could tolerate up to one hundred bee stings before things got truly dangerous.

“Itches like a sonovabitch,” Dean replies. “And I think one got me in the ass.” He shifts uncomfortably. “But yeah, I’m fine. Or no worse than you, I guess.”

“You sure about that?” Taking a closer look at his brother, Sam discovers more angry-looking stings on his hands and forearms, red and puffy, and he thinks he sees a sheen of sweat on Dean’s forehead.

“I’m a little… I don’t know… dizzy, maybe. Hot. Were there fire ants there as well?” He scratches at his arm, laughing unconvincingly.

Sam shakes his head. He’s uncomfortable himself, at least a dozen bee stings prickling and itching on his face, neck, arms and ankles, everywhere the little petsts had found a patch of exposed skin. But he’s not nearly as swollen and pasty as Dean looks.

“Dean. Could you be allergic?”

“Against bees?” Dean huffs, sounding a bit wheezy. “No. Course not.” 

Sam frowns. “Well, I’m not so sure.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” Dean scrunches up his face which only emphasizes how increasingly disfigured he’s looking. “Don’t be a drama queen. I’ve been stung before, and I’ve never–” He clears his throat and swallows hard. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.” Sam’s getting nervous now. His brother’s voice has become hoarse and throaty. “Are you breathing okay? I really think we should get you checked out. This could be– whoa!”

The car swerves as Dean blinks and coughs dryly.

Sam reaches in and steadies the steering wheel. “That’s it! Stop the car, Dean! I’m taking over!”

For a moment, Dean seems to consider mutiny, but he’s clearly off now, even a little shaky, and he lets the Impala roll to a stop. Sam hurries to switch seats, pushing his clammy and hard-breathing brother to scoot over to the passenger site. “Hang in there, bro,” he tells him, cell phone pressed to his ear to find out the location of the nearest hospital. 

Luckily, it’s not too far. By the time they get there, Dean is wheezing like an asthma patient and barely able to walk. The twenty-three bee stings they find on him are all swollen to hell, Dean’s blood pressure and saturation are in the tank, and two minutes later he’s hooked up to an IV pumping him full of steroids and antihistamines, an oxygen mask strapped to his face.

It takes a full, scary hour until he starts to improve, the ER team’s hectic activity around him only calming down when his breathing eases up and his vitals normalize.

“He’s gonna be okay now, right?” Sam nervously asks one of the nurses who has taken him aside to check his own bee stings and take his blood pressure.

The woman smiles reassuringly at him. “Yes. You brought him here in time. He’s gonna be just fine.”

Sam exhales in relief. “Will he have to stay?” 

She removes the cuff from his arm and jots something down on a clipboard. “I’m sure the doctor will want to keep him here for at least a few more hours. You’re fine, by the way.” She gestures at his chart. “Then you can take your brother home. And this.” She opens a drawer and pulls out an object that Sam recognizes immediately. 

“An EpiPen?" he says, stunned. A college buddy of his with a severe peanut allergy had carried one of these on him at all times.

“Your brother’s had quite the allergic reaction,” the nurse says, serious now. “Might have been the large number of stings. Or the specific type of bee. You never know. Next time he gets stung, you keep a close eye on him. Use this if he shows symptoms. And then get him to an ER. Got it?”

Sam nods. “Yes. Got it. Thanks.” He takes the pen and pockets it, already thinking about where to keep it in case of emergency. Knowing that Dean will do his best to lose it. His brother hates feeling weak. 

The nurse dabs Sam’s most prominent stings with a soothing ointment before letting him go back to Dean. 

He’s sitting up, the oxygen mask gone, but still looking groggy, absentmindedly picking at the medical tape holding his IV in place. Red welts still blemish his cheeks and forehead, and his eyes are puffy, but he has some color back and is no longer wheezing.

“Hey.” Sam waves awkwardly. 

“Hey.” Dean sounds like himself again, too, only very tired.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Dean blinks drowsily. No wonder, with all the antihistamines they gave him.

“The nurse said they’ll keep you here for a few more hours. I thought I’d go and find us a place to stay, then come back pick you up when you’re cleared. What do you think?”

Dean lets his head sink back into the pillow and closes his eyes. “I think…”, he mumbles. “I think that I hate bees.” 

“I hear you.” Sam cracks a sympathetic smile. 

Now that Dean’s better, he feels the tension leave his body. He’s relieved and exhausted at the same time. What a crazy twenty-four hours it’s been. They’re used to facing off with monsters of all kinds, but a vengeful mega swarm of insects? And then Dean, his invincible tank of a big brother, almost getting felled by anaphylactic shock? Unwittingly, Sam grabs his forehead in delayed disbelief.

“Sammy?” His brother’s voice. Dean’s cracked his eyes back open and is frowning at him. “Dude, you look wiped out. Why don’t you go, find that motel and catch a few zees. Text me the address and I’ll get a cab when they’re cutting me loose.”

If Sam needed any indication that Dean’s on the mend, it’s this - his brother’s worry radar swinging back to him rather than worrying about his own health. Sometimes he wishes he knew why Dean cared so little about himself. Of course, their father had not exactly taught them self-care beyond the basics. But he’d appreciated their skills - or at least Dean’s - and his worth as a hunter. He’d raised his sons - Dean - into strong, independent, self-confident men. And yet, Dean always put other people first. Why?

“You’re not taking a cab, Dean!” he says adamantly. “I’m picking you up. And that’s not a discussion!”

Dean’s eyebrows arch. “Alright, fine. Have it your way, Nurse Ratched. Now buzz off!”

“Haha. Funny.” 

Sam waves dismissively at his brother and turns around to leave. Dean’s cracking stupid jokes again. All’s going to be well.

On his way out, Sam slides his hand into his jacket and makes sure that the EpiPen is securely stored in his pocket.

Read the whole series here:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[shadowywerewolfqueen]

Take Care of Your Husband

Cas picked his phone up and answered Sam’s call. “Hello Sam. What can I do for you?”

“I know you and Jack have been planning this trip for the two of you for weeks but for the love of all that is holy, I need you to come back to the bunker and take care of your husband,” Sam shouted.

Cas held the phone away from his ear as Sam was shouting extremely loud. “What is wrong with Dean? He was fine when we left a few days ago.”

“He’s come down with a cold and he is being a whiny asshole about it! He argues with me every time I try to help him, and he’s only getting worse. I’m about ready to strangle him or knock him into unconsciousness, I haven’t decided,” Sam said frustratedly.

Cas sighed but couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Let me talk to Jack and see if I can convince him to leave. He’s enjoying his trip to Disneyland immensely.”

“You don’t sound like you are,” Sam said.

“It’s so loud and crowded. I hate to tear him away, but I’ll be glad to be back home in the quiet of the bunker,” Cas explained as he started pushing through the crowd, looking for his pseudo son.

Sam was silent for a minute before saying, “Why don’t we trade places. I need a break from Dean, and you want away from the theme park.”

“Do you care if I fly you? Even after being together all these years, Dean still complains when I fly him anywhere.” Cas rolled his eyes at the thought of his husband’s bitching.

“I don’t care how you get me there, just please get me out of here. If I have to hear Dean whine like a little girl one more time, I’m gonna claw my ears out. The guy can nearly get his leg chopped off by a vampire and not complain but god forbid he gets a cold,” Sam complained.

Castiel chuckled. “I see Jack. Let me tell him what’s going on and then I will be at the bunker.”

“Alright, see you in a minute. Bye.”

“Bye Sam.” Cas hung up the call and slipped the phone in his trench coat pocket.

Jack turned to look at Cas, his lips stained blue from the cotton candy he was stuffing into his mouth. He waved at Cas as the older angel walked up to him. He held a handful off the sweet confection out in front of him. “Hey Cas, do you want some? It’s delicious.”

Cas shook his head. “Thank you but no. Jack, would you be upset if Sam joined you for the rest of the trip? Dean has come down with a cold and needs somebody to take care of him that isn’t his younger brother.”

Jack shoved the cotton candy in his mouth as he said, “I don’t mind. Sam will probably go on the rides with me. You go take care of Dean.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right back with Sam.” In the blink of an eye, Cas was gone. He returned barely five seconds later with a bewildered Sam.

“Give me a warning next time, Cas,” Sam grumbled as he tried to steady his tall frame.

Cas grabbed Sam’s arm to keep him from falling. “I’m sorry. You said you didn’t mind this form of travel. If you’re ok, I must return to Dean.”

Sam waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, go tend to your sick husband. Jack and I have some rides to go on.”

Jack’s face erupted into a large smile at the mention of riding rides. He grabbed Sam’s arm and pointed to the first one he wanted to go on. Cas watched as the two of them walked off, talking excitedly. With a flap of his wings, Cas was flying away from the park and towards his home. He landed in the bunker’s kitchen.

He was startled when he heard a loud sneeze echo through the hallways. Cas headed towards their room; as he got closer, he could hear Dean’s sneezes, coughs, and curse words. The door to their room was wide open and Cas leaned against the doorway and stared at the man he loved. Dean was laying in their bed with his back turned to Cas and was buried underneath no less than five blankets. His body was wracked with insistent coughing and Cas flinched at how painful it sounded.

“Stupid, fucking cold!! This fucking sucks! How do people handle this shit?? I feel like I’m dying,” Dean shouted into the room. He started to say something else but was for forced to stop as he was overcome by sneezes. “A-choo! A-chooo! A-A-CHOO!!”

Cas walked over and took a seat on the edge of the mattress. Dean immediately turned his head over his shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw Castiel sitting there. “I thought you and Jack were at Disneyland.” Dean’s voice was scratchy and thick with mucus.

Cas reached out and ran his fingers through the sweaty locks. “Sam said you were sick.”

“No shit sherlock,” Dean snapped before breaking into a coughing fit. “It was just a cough a few days ago and now I’m coughing and sneezing, and my nose can’t decide if it wants to let me breathe or suffocate me. I can’t taste a damn thing and I can hardly move a muscle without hurting.” Dean grabbed a tissue and blew his nose into it before looking at the snot. “Ugh, that’s disgusting.”

Cas scrunched his nose. “Why did you look at it?”

Dean shrugged. “Why do I do half the shit I do? I’m just glad you’re here. If I had to shove down another bowl of chicken noodle soup or cup of ginger ale, I was going to throw it at Sam’s face. I haven’t had a burger or a beer in days. Hell, he threatened to hide the keys to Baby if I didn’t lay my ass down.”

“He was just trying to take care of you,” Cas replied as he grinned at his husband’s antics. “Maybe I should let you suffer for a while longer for being such a grouchy patient.”

“No, please, don’t! I’ll apologize to him and thank him for putting up with me, but please don’t make me have to deal with this any longer. I’ve been miserable,” Dean whined.

“You are to be on your best behavior for the next two weeks and you have to apologize to and thank your brother. Otherwise, I’m going to make you sick again and you will have to let it run its course, am I understood?” Cas used his Dom voice to let Dean know he was being completely serious.

Dean shivered as Cas’ voice lowered and he stared at Dean with a cocked eyebrow. “Yes sir, I promise! Please, just make me better.”

Cas chuckled as he placed two fingers on Dean’s forehead and sent a surge of grace into the hunter’s body, eradicating all traces of the illness that plagued Dean’s body. Dean took a huge breath and relaxed against the bed. “Thanks angel. Gah, I don’t know how people without magical angel husbands deal with that. It was awful!” Dean kicked all the blankets off now that he wasn’t freezing cold anymore.

“You’re just lucky your magical angel husband hates your whining as much as your brother. You also need to thank Jack for letting me come to you,” Cas said as he shed his trench coat, suit jacket, tie, and shoes. He then slid into bed and Dean curled up against him.

“I will, I promise. I’m sorry to pull you away from your trip with Jack. I know he has been looking forward to it for weeks,” Dean replied as he let his head rest against Cas’ chest.

Cas started trailing his fingers through Dean’s hair again. “Honestly, I wasn’t enjoying it very much and I was taking the fun out of it for Jack. I think he will have a lot more fun with Sam. When I left, they were rushing off to ride rides, something Jack had been begging me to do.”

Dean reached across Cas’ chest and grabbed his free hand. “Yeah, Sam is like a big kid when it comes to theme parks. I’m not a huge fan of them myself. The food is good but that’s about it. The games are rigged and if I won’t fly on a plane, you think there’s any chance of getting me on a friggin roller coaster?”

“Well, I’m sure Sam will be far better entertainment than I was.” Cas pressed a kiss to the top of Dean’s head. “Whatever shall we do to occupy ourselves while they’re gone?”

Dean grinned at Cas, delight dancing in his eyes. “I’m sure we will think of something!” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to his husband’s.

“Are you going to my good boy until your brother gets back?” Cas asked as he smiled at Dean.

“I really don’t wanna be sick anytime soon, so yes sir, I promise to be good,” Dean replied quickly.

Cas pulled Dean’s head back and nipped at his exposed neck. “For some reason, I don’t believe you but that’s ok. I always enjoy turning your ass a bright red.”

Dean shivered in anticipation. “Who said I had to be in trouble?”

“Oh pet, we are going to have so much fun,” Cas whispered seductively. Dean couldn’t wait.

Tagging: @lonewolf34500 @notwithd @multifandom-fanatic @flowersforcas @cockleslovesdestiel

[saltnhalo]

Dean doesn’t get sick often, but when he does, it puts him fully out of commission.

Somehow, this time feels worse than usual, his body burning up like an inferno. He’s too hot and too cold all at once, and he shakes feverishly, curled up beneath mounds of blankets. Sam comes and goes, keeping an eye on him, but Cas is a constant presence by his side. “I wish I could heal you,” he whispers, when he thinks Dean can’t hear.

In his rare moments of lucidity, Dean wishes he could tell him:

Even without your grace, you are enough.