Crumble: A Destiel AU

[7]

XXX [Castiel] XXX

And as I told him my whole life story, I knew. I knew that he cared for me and that nothing else mattered. I knew I was in love. I thought I was before, but there are different kinds of love. There's family love; like for your mom and dad and siblings and that awkward great aunt that always gives you hard candy and pinches your cheeks, and there's crush love; the desire to be loved by someone who doesn't exactly feel the same way about you but you really want them to. Check that off the list. There's the cupcake love; when you first start dating and you just say I love you every other word and you're constantly kissing and hugging and making out and a lot of PDA. That eventually upgrades to normal dating status; in which you spend as much time with them as you do watching your favorite show, if not less, but it doesn't matter if you don't see them every day or even once a week. Evolution takes its course and somehow you end up as an old married couple who yell at each other for everything but it's in a cute way and honestly you're best friends and you want to both hug and stab them. The kind I was feeling was the normal kind. That's when you know it's real, and that you know you can make it to the finish line.

It was the way he was so eager to listen, even in the parts it wasn't so pretty. He kept asking questions that even I hadn't asked myself. Of course he told me about his life too, and his wasn't much better than mine. His mom died in a house fire when he was four, and his dad went insane. He basically raised his little brother, Sam, all by himself. They were always on the road; sleeping in crappy motels rooms or in their dads car. John, his dad, would drop them off at Bobby's, a good friend of John and basically their uncle and he made a home there almost. Almost. Sam was an intelligent kid, Dean praised him highly. He talked about his father's alcoholism and verbal abuse, it reminded me of my father, as absent as he was. Dean was torn between hating the man and giving him respect for what he did do.

I found so many similarities in our stories, and it only brought us closer. He shut down after talking about Sam, I assumed they had a falling out and didn't speak anymore. He didn't go into detail about it, but I could tell he was still very sore about the subject. I didn't want to push it, I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. After he finished his story about his life and how he ended up here, we had a quiet dinner. We split the bill and went home, well his house. It was a quiet ride back, but it wasn't uncomfortable silence. He unlocked the door and we went inside, stepping into our usual routine of getting ready for bed. We both brushed our teeth and changed clothes; yawns coming out of both of our mouths. We had had a long day and it was getting close to eleven, not to mention we had classes tomorrow morning.

XXX [Dean] XXX

I told him everything, about my dad, my life, I even talked about Sammy. I haven't talked to anyone about Sam besides myself since he died. Cas just had this thing about him that made me want to put all my cards on the table. Maybe it was because he listened, and asked questions. Maybe it was because I knew I could trust him, and that he actually cared about me. The first time since the accident, someone has cared enough about me to listen to the story, and know what happened and how much it actually affected me. Sam was my responsibility, he meant everything to me; and now I share that story with someone else. It was something special to me, and I feel like only him knowing the story besides me makes our relationship stronger; all of the feelings and shit, but I kinda like it.

The drive home was silent, but not weird. I unlocked the door and we fell into our usual bedtime routine. Tomorrow would be hell, and I didn't know if I could take it. It was a long time before the thoughts of my past let me sleep. All I could concentrate on was everything I told Cas. I told him about my dad, my mom, Sammy. He knows everything now, I've never shared that with anyone else; not that anyone else has cared to listen. Castiel was something special, and I wasn't going to let him get away. I lost consciousness with thoughts of us doing this year from now.

I was right, waking up at seven to get to classes by nine is hell. I was so tired, but I pushed myself into getting ready. I fell in the shower and almost tripped going downstairs. I could tell today was going to be a bad day. Not only was I extremely tired, my throat hurt, my nose felt pinched, and my stomach was at war with itself. I drew the conclusion I was sick. "Cas, take the car to class, I'm not gonna make it today." I swallowed a gulp of water that followed the aspirin. "What's the matter, Dean?" instantly he began touching me; feeling my forehead, he gripped my throat and put fingers on my pulse. "Cas, what are you doing?" he looked me dead in the eyes. "You're coming down with a common cold, back to bed." He didn't give me time to protest, he shoved me back up the stairs and tucked me back in. "I'm going to call the administrative office and tell them we won't be in today." He was already dialing the number, and he was racing to do all kinds of things. "Cas, you don't need to stay home and take care of me, I'll be fine, I'm a big boy." he didn't like my protests and shushed me, telling the lady that we were both sick and wouldn't be attending today. "You're gonna miss all your classes." I tried to persuade him into going. "Dean, I've been with you all weekend, so if you've got a cold, I'm probably carrying it too. It's best for me to stay here and take care of you. I am a doctor, well kind of." I laughed and he left the room. He came back multiple times; putting a warm or cold rag on my forehead, bringing me breakfast, and he never left for long. "If you stay in here with me, you're going to get sick." He wouldn't budge though. "Do you not enjoy my company, Dean?" How dare he ask that. "Of course I do, I just don't want you to get sick too." He nodded chidingly. "Dean, I'm in premed. I know how to treat the common cold and prevent it from spreading. I can take care of you and not catch your illness very easily."

Needless to say three days later he caught the common cold. "Oh, how the tables have turned." I came the room with a bowl of Mary Winchester's famous homemade chicken noodle 'no more sick' soup. "Shut up, Dean." He groaned from his tissue infested bed, which had been mine only a day before. "Oh, someone's grouchy today. Maybe I should just eat my soup somewhere else." He scowled at me as I pretended to leave the room. Of course I gave him the bowl and helped him feel better. It had already been a week of classes we had missed and if we didn't go pick up the work soon then we were going to fail our classes.