How (thanks to Gabriel) Dean and Castiel raised each other (and Sam)

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dean was ill. He curled like comma around a pillow and Castiel stood uneasily at the foot of his bed. The house settled around him, creaking and groaning. Somewhere in its bowels John and Bobby were arguing. Castiel did not bother to pay them any mind.

"Is he gonna be ok?" Sam asked, touching Castiel's hand lightly with his own.

"All will be well." Castiel reached out to take Sam's hand in his own as he had seen Dean do many times. Sam did not pull away. His hand fit neatly into Castiel's.

"Bobby says Dad should take him to the doctor."

The argument downstairs ceased as a door slammed shut, shaking the walls. The Impala roared to life outside. Sam leaned against Castiel's leg, eyelids half-lowered.

"It is only a passing sickness." Castiel could see the sluggish wrongness in Dean's body, the virus extending itself where it was not wanted. He reached out and touched the exposed arch of Dean's foot and drew out the worst of it. It was possible to heal it all at once, but surely that would raise some questions.

"I gotta sleep downstairs." Sam said mournfully, oblivious to the tiny miracle. "Bobby says I might get sick too."

"Bobby is correct."

"But what if he needs me?"

"I will stay with him."

"The whole night?" Sam only half-asked. The rest was demand.

"Yes. Now get to where you are meant to be before Bobby comes looking for you."

Sam threw his arms around Castiel's waist hugging him for a brief moment, then detached and ran down the stairs. Cautiously, Castiel kept an ear out for him, but Sam did as he had been told. He was sleeping on the couch within minutes.

Castiel stood at the edge of the bed, watching Dean's fever break. The line of his body eased a little and he stopped shaking. Just as the sun came up, his eyes slit open.

"Cas?" He rasped.

"Dean."

"Can I have some water?"

There was a half-filled glass on the bedside table. Castiel picked it up and pressed it into Dean's hand. He sat up enough to take a few careful sips then gave it back.

"How long have you been ill?"

"Dunno." Dean sank back down. "I just started getting sleepy in Des Moine. Slept the whole way here. Sammy, ok?"

"Yes. Bobby requested he sleep downstairs to prevent the spreading of the virus."

"Good. Don't want him to get sick." Dean coughed once pitifully.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

Dean went quiet and for a moment, Castiel wondered if he had fallen asleep again.

"Can you sit with me?" Dean finally asked, shame in his voice. "Just for a little while."

"I can." He sat down on the edge of the bed. After some consideration, he moved closer until Dean could set his head on Castiel's thigh. It was a position they wound up in often.

"Mom used to stroke my hair." Dean pulled the blanket further up.

"Like this?" Gingerly, Castiel ran his fingers over Dean's scalp.

"Yeah." Dean coughed again and scooted a little closer. Castiel could feel the still too high heat radiating off of Dean's skin. "Cas?"

"Dean."

"Do a lot of people have angels? Or is it just us?"

"I do not know." Castiel liked the prickle of Dean's hair against his palm. "We have our orders. We rarely speak of anything outside of them."

"Sounds boring."

"I do not become bored."

"But it's more fun being with me and Sammy, right?" Dean challenged.

"Not right now. You are very stationary at the moment."

"Shut up." Dean grumped, but Castiel could see the smile hiding there.

"Go back to sleep. You will feel better for it."

The fever abated and Dean slept on. Bobby came in to check on him an hour or so later. Castiel manifested in the living room. Sam was already awake, a bowl of cereal in his lap.

"I must go." Castiel informed him.

He used to just leave, but Dean had informed him that that was rude. Sam's hair was mussed from sleep. Castiel reached forward and ran his fingers through it. It was softer than Dean's and a little thicker. Sam submitted to the grooming with a wrinkled nose and a little squirming.

"You had knots." He explained.

"Thanks." Sam smiled. "See you later, Cas."

"Goodbye."

Zachariah was giving a speech when Castiel got back. It was about duty and loyalty and strategy.

It was very boring.

Afterwards, Rachel pulled him aside. She had a vessel these days, all trim lines and prim suit. It suited her and he said as much.

"Thank you." The edges of her borrowed lips twitched, but it was hard to say if she was attempting a frown or a smile. "Are you aware that yours is changing?"

"Vessels do not change."

"Yours has. It grows."

There were mirrors in heaven if you knew where to look. He stood in front of an old oak framed glass in the bedroom of a middle aged woman. Her heaven was perpetually July and the croaks of insects filled the air. She was outside at the moment, weeding her garden by candlelight.

Jimmy Novak's body reflected back at him. It was definitely taller, gangly almost. The clothes that Dean had given him had shifted to accommodate the growth, pants longer and the sweatshirt settled more firmly over his shoulders.

"Father." Castiel said, pointlessly. He was unsure if it was a prayer or a question. Perhaps neither. Or both.