The Flock (SPN / destiel)

your heartbeat with mine: part 4

Rural Kansas had its charms: excellent stargazing, peace and quiet. But the downsides included being removed from the amenities of larger cities. It was seventeen miles to Smith Center, but the convenience store was open late. He picked up over-the-counter pain killers, a cough suppressant, throat lozenges, and a few cans of soup. He bought ice cream for Dean, and for himself, milk, eggs, and bread. There was cinnamon in the spice cabinet. He'd make breakfast in the morning if Sam was feeling better.

Shopping for the three of them gave him a sense of purpose. He set the bags on the seat next to him with a satisfied grin. But his satisfaction was tinged with regret. It bothered him that Sam hadn't felt he should call them, that he'd suffered unnecessarily because Dean was with Castiel in Lawrence.

The coffee machine was still on when he got back. After putting away the groceries, he heated the soup and poured himself a mug. He usually drank it black, the way Dean preferred, but today he added some of Sam's organic french vanilla creamer and drank it leaning over the sink. He didn't drink coffee for the flavor, but he liked the way it woke him up. The smell was his favorite part of it, rich and earthy, but he'd prefer molecules to the taste.

The creamer took away the coffee's bitterness but was cloyingly sweet. He used half the amount for his second cup that he carried with him to Sam's room.

Sam was propped up on pillows, a damp cloth on his head and a thermometer between his lips. Dean must've talked him into new clothes, because there was a limp t-shirt and rumpled drawstring pants discarded on the floor. Dean, seated in a chair he'd dragged next to the bed, poured a glass of water from a pitcher and shoved it into Sam's hands.

"Drink."

"Cas, thank god," Sam said, catching Castiel's eye with a pleading expression. "Please tell my brother that I'm fine. I just need to rest." He thumped his head back against the headboard. Castiel noticed his phone charging on the nightstand. The laptop was open on the bed next to him, screen gone dark.

"I hope you're not working," Castiel admonished.

"Just watching videos," Sam said too brightly, shifting in a way that made Castiel think he'd actually been prowling for cases. He raised an eyebrow but didn't call Sam out.

Castiel set down his coffee and handed the plastic bag to Dean. He wasn't sure if he should leave the room or if it would be alright to stay, but he reasoned that if he were sick in bed, he'd appreciate Sam's company. He stood behind Dean's chair.

"There's cough syrup and throat lozenges as well; they didn't have a very good flavor selection. And your soup's warming up."

"Thanks, Cas," Sam said through a shiver.

Dean tore open the box containing the Tylenol and poked a hole in the protective seal. He knocked two tablets into his palm and shoved them at Sam.

"Take these."

"You're enjoying this," Sam accused before swallowing both and chasing the with a long drink of water.

"Oh, yeah, it's a riot."

"Does Cas know about your addiction to a certain medical drama?" Sam coughed Dr. Sexy behind his hand

"I enjoyed the first season," Castiel said.

"So, I shouldn't return the lab coat and cowboy boots I got Dean for Christmas?" Sam asked.

"Bite me," Dean snapped. "When's that soup gonna be ready?"

Castiel curved a hand around the back of Dean's neck and squeezed once. Dean tensed, but when Castiel squeezed a second time, he felt Dean's muscles begin to relax. He massaged his neck lightly, easing his thumb in a circle at Dean's hairline.