It Didn't Make Sense in HIS Head, 3 (SPN - Castiel)

[Anilkex]

So...foxonthemoon needs a Castiel fix. Because she writes the most amazing prompts, I am giving her a triple. This first one fits the tone of the two Loopy Winchester stories I've already posted. It has sneezing in it, but...well, you'll see. Some of you wanted a Cas fic like the others, so that's what this is. The churro reference goes with a seasick Dean story that was requested on ff.net. Just know that Cas ate a lot of them. There are inconsistencies with canon, and timelines...I guess...ignore them?

The other two fics will be posted in a separate thread.

Anyhoo.

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They pull the Impala into Bobby’s yard, weary from several hours of travel. Once the car is set to park, the brothers look at each other.

Thank God we’re here.

Sam pulls out the keys, sighing in relief, while Dean glances in the backseat, where Cas is curled into a ball, sleeping. “Hey...sunshine...we’re here. Time to get up.”

Cas blinks rapidly as he wakes, disorientation and confusion etched into his expression. “Where - “

“Bobby’s, remember? C’mon, let’s get inside and go to bed.”

More confused, Cas says, “I was already sleeping. Why - “

“A bed, Cas. Trust me. It’ll be worth it.”

The three stagger up the steps, carrying duffels, the plastic bag of laundry Dean still needs to rewash after the laundry soap incident, and the med kit, which is depleted of most supplies. Bobby’s waiting for them, a sympathetic smile on his lips.

“‘Bout time you got here. Come on - beds are ready and waiting.”

xxxxx

Sometime early morning, it hits Castiel. A massive stomachache, no doubt from all the churros he consumed, doubles him over, as his vessel tries to process the massive amount of starch the angel poured down his throat. During one beaut of a cramp, Cas realizes that an angel’s appetite significantly outweighs that of its vessel.

He stumbles to the bathroom, taking care of business, also realizing that angels don’t eat or drink for reasons such as bathrooms. On his way back to his room, he runs into Bobby in the hallway. With one look, Bobby sizes him up, hooks a finger at him, and leads Cas to the kitchen.

“Dean told me about your little adventure with churros. Had one myself several years back, while down in Mexico during a Day of the Dead celebration gone wrong. Ate way too many of those things - couldn’t stop - and paid for it the next day or so.” He reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a small box. “Now. You drop three of these bad boys in some water, let ‘em fizz and melt, then drink it. You’ll feel right as rain in no time.” He claps Cas on the shoulder, then heads back to his own room.

Cas squints at the box, then shrugs. What did he know about human ailments? He couldn’t heal himself, so conventional medicine it is. He watches with fascination as the bubbles spring to life in the glass before swallowing it all.

A small belch later, he decides to go back to bed, sure that he’ll feel better in the morning. Or...later in the morning.

xxxxx

A couple hours later, chills sweep over Castiel, making him shiver uncontrollably, even under the blankets. He notices that while his stomach feels better, his head aches and feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. Trying to figure out what is ailing him now, the only explanation he can come up with is the flu bug that the brothers passed between them.

But...angels can’t get sick, so…

Too exhausted to think, Cas drags himself out of bed, looking for a drink of water to soothe his throat. On his way to the kitchen, he runs into Dean, who looks like warm shit on a sidewalk.

He’s not even sure how he knows that reference.

“Jesus, Cas. You look like I feel.”

“Then I must look really bad.”

“Ha. Ha. Come on, I’ll give you something to make you feel better.” Dean returns to the kitchen, Cas in tow, waving for him to sit at the table. He rummages through the med kit, pulls out a small box, and shakes it. Satisfied at whatever he heard, Dean opens it and takes out a blister pack containing four green pills. “Take two now, and we’ll save the other two for later. You’ll feel better soon - trust me.”

Cas just nods, taking the pills and swallowing them with some water.

Dean nods back, then sneezes into his shoulder. “Ugh. Okay, I’m going back to bed.” He claps Cas on the shoulder. “Feel better.”

Cas waves as Dean shuffles away, sniffling. He stares at the pack and wonders, “What would happen if I put these in water like the other ones?” But Dean didn’t tell him to do that, so he pops all four pills (he really feels bad) and swallows them down with water from the glass he used earlier.

A chill hits him, and he shivers in the kitchen, suddenly lonely and cold. He spies the bag of laundry Dean brought in, and digs through it until he finds one of Sam’s hoodies. He remembers that Dean likes these hoodie things when he’s unwell, so he pulls it over his head, marveling at the soft, thick fabric.

No wonder Dean likes it.

Too tired to go back to his room, Cas plops onto the couch and closes his eyes.

xxxxx

It didn’t take long at all - less than a half hour, in fact. Cas startles himself awake by sneezing so hard, his head smacks the part of the couch where the cushion wore a little thin, leaving the wooden frame wide open for moments like this. He sniffs, wondering what’s going on, when his sinuses prickle and his head snaps forward, “Hetschh!”

What in the world was going on with him? “HSCHCHH! Heh-TSCHHCH!” He’s having trouble breathing in between sneezing, which, if he had time to reflect, is seriously alarming.

“Whoa! Are you okay?” Sam hurries over, hair tousled, and one sweat pant leg higher than the other.

Cas tries to answer, but all he could do is, “TCHHHCH! HRSCHHH!”

Sam crouches down, laying a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. He opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly twists away, sneezing twice. “Oh God, you’re wearing the clothes Dean...De...hetschhew! washed in that soap. Take it off, Cas. Hurry!”

Fumbling with the sleeves, Cas, with Sam’s help, manages to take off the hoodie. Covering his nose with his shirt, Sam shoves the offending item back in the bag, ties it up, then throws it onto the porch.

Castiel is acutely aware of his burning eyes, the itch in his nose, and the more prominent sensation of having cotton in his head.

Sam returns, handing Cas three red pills. He sniffles. “Here - take these. It’ll help with the reaction.”

By this point, Cas didn’t even think about it. He downs the pills, and would’ve laughed when the glass of water Sam hands over is the same one he’s used all night, except that he didn’t care. Pills gone, Sam claps Cas on the shoulder, and disappears back upstairs, sneezing.

Clutching a handful of Kleenex, Cas decides to sit up for a while, muffling the occasional sneeze into the tissue cloud, trying hard not to scratch the hives that sprang up on his arms.

My vessel must be broken, he thinks, defective in some way. If he could just…

Dean barks in his head: No mojo!

Cas sighs. He guesses he just has to sit and wait it out.

xxxxx

Almost a couple hours later, Sam and Dean are woken by Bobby, pounding on their door. “Hey...you two prolly need to see this…”

They wake instantly. “What is it, Bobby?” Sam asked, noticing how crooked his pants are.

“It’s Cas. He’s...just come look.”

As Sam straightens out his pant leg situation, Dean pulls on a sweatshirt, chuckling. “I bet he’s a little loopy from the cold meds I gave him earlier. This should be fun.”

Sam freezes, mid left leg fix. “You what?”

Dean runs fingers through his hair, tossing a What? look at his brother. “I found him in the hallway, looking sicker than a dog, all stuffed up and probably sporting a fever. He needed something for the congestion. Why?”

Slowly, Sam sits up. “I saw him too, and he was having a reaction to the laundry soap.”

“What? How?”

Sam shrugs. “I’m guessing he was cold, because he was wearing one of my hoodies. He couldn’t breathe by the time I got to him, so I gave him some allergy medicine.”

Dean drags a hand down his face. “When?”

“I dunno - couple hours ago?”

“Fuck. C’mon…”

They run downstairs, and almost into Bobby, who’s standing in the doorway, watching Castiel in the living room. Joining him, their eyes widen at the sight before them.

Castiel, Angel of the Lord, is seriously, and completely, catatonic. Mouth hanging open, he’s sitting on the couch, unaware of his dripping nose, a small trail of drool from the corner of his mouth, or the rhythmic twitch in his right eye.

“Holy shit,” Sam breathes.

Bobby nods. “I know. It’s my fault - I didn’t think he’d react to Alka Seltzer like this.”

Both brothers swivel toward Bobby. “Waitasec...you gave him medicine, too?”

Bobby arches an eyebrow. “Too? You gave him something?”

Dean sighs. “Apparently we all did.

“Oh, Jesus Christ...what do we do? Pump his stomach or something?”

“Stomach pumping doesn’t sound like anything I wish to be a part of.”

They jump at the unexpected sound of his voice.

“I can hear you. I’m celestley. That means I can do stuff that you can’t do. Like hear. Things. Quiet things. In other...places.”

Everyone freezes a second, then Dean cautiously walks over, head tilted, trying to figure out how bad off the angel really is. His posture hasn’t changed, along with the vacant stare at the opposite wall, despite the spoken words.

“Hey, Cas...how’re you feeling? Uhm...you may wanna…” He makes little gestures in the air, trying to hint that Cas should wipe his face.

Castiel’s eyes drag up to Dean, not really focusing, but at least in the general vicinity. “Wha’?”

Dean sighs, snags a couple tissues and wipes the drool. He draws the line at the snot, though. “Take these and wipe your nose, Cas.”

Cas blinks at the proffered tissues, clearly struggling to understand the command. “Why? It’ll just leak again. It’s been leaking for hours. I don’t see the point. Why can’t I wait until it’s done leaking, then clean it all up at one time?”

Dean sees the logic in this, but he also sees a trail getting dangerously close to Castiel’s upper lip. “A little help, here?” He calls over his shoulder.

“You wiped my nose all the time when we were kids,” Sam offers.

Dean shoots death rays at Sam, making him flinch.

Under his breath, Bobby mutters, “He’s your angel…”

More glaring.

Bobby chuckles. “When was the last pill he took?”

“I’m sitting right here,” Cas announces. “You could just ask me.”

Bobby sighs. “Alright. When was - “

“I have no idea.”

“Right. Imma make some coffee. Pepto was around two.” He scuttles to the kitchen.

Sam scratches his chin. “I gave him allergy meds around...five? Ish?”

“And I’m thinking I was around four. Awesome.” Dean hangs his head and slowly stands. “So we have, what, at least a couple more hours of this.”

“Eleven.”

“Eleven what?” Dean eyes Cas.

“If you add up all the times, you get eleven. I was always good at arithmetic. One of the only things I’m good at. Unless you count fucking up.”

Whoa…

Sam’s eyes are wide at Castiel’s word choice. “Uh...Cas…”

“I mean I am really good at fucking shit up, if you think about it and oh, oh yes, okay, I see the dilemma with the dripping. Hold on.” He catches the trail just as it reaches his lip, and wipes his face, smearing and generally making a mess. “What the...this...this isn’t working…” His movements are haphazard and clumsy, not addressing the viscosity of the offending substance.

“Goddammit. Here, Cas, lemme...just...gimme the damn Kleenex.” WIth a huff, Dean wipes Castiel’s face, making sure it’s dry and clean. When he finishes, he grabs a few more, takes a deep breath, and tents them over Castiel’s nose. “Okay, big guy. Blow.” There’s a strangled guffaw behind him, followed by hastily retreating steps.

Cas nods, does as he’s told, and Dean just...deals with it. He looks down at the angel, and sits next to him on the couch, depositing the used tissues on the floor.

Cas doesn’t move.

Dean nudges him.

Cas flops with the jostling, but otherwise remains still.

Sighing, Dean flops back against the couch, trying to figure out the best way to get Cas to lie down and sleep this off.

“An angel’s job is to preserve God’s Will. He loves you humans, and we are supposed to protect you. Why can’t I do my job?” Cas then turns, liquid blue eyes locked on Dean, questioning, seeking an explanation that Dean knows he cannot give. “What is wrong with me?”

Dean rubs his eye, avoiding Castiel’s gaze, thinking it’s too early to be having conversations like this.

Cas nods. “Exactly. That’s what I mean. Why can’t I sense that this is not the appropriate time to discuss it? All the other angels can interact on earth without issue. I just always make things worse.” He returns to staring across the room.

Dean pulls his lips into his mouth, frowning. “Cas...you - “

“I think I should zap away, heal myself, then let what happens, happen. It would make it safer for you, and I won’t have to deal with this leaking situation, which, do you see what I mean? It’s back again...why is it back again? Seriously, how do I make it stop?”

Dean hands over some tissues. “Just keep wiping, Cas, and no, you’re not going anyway or using your powers.” He reaches up to see if Cas has a fever.

“Yes, Dean, I’m still here.”

Dean rolls his eyes. He’s pleased that the angel’s skin doesn’t feel warm, but he doesn’t think he’s that lucky, himself, though. Muffling a cough into his arm, Dean decides to undertake Operation Get Through To Castiel. “Listen, man, if it weren’t for you, I’d still be in Hell.”

“But I didn’t get to you in time.”

“In time for what?”

“In time to prevent you from breaking the first seal.”

“Oh…” Dean had no idea there was a timeline on that rescue.

“There was, and I blew it.”

“First off,” Dean starts ticking reasons on his fingers. “...you gotta stop reading my mind. It’s creepy and makes me unable to think about porn. Second...let’s talk about this timeline thing. Why did you blow it?”

Cas sucks in some wayward drool and swallows. “There was an unexpected host of demons near the entrance point. I believe someone in our ranks betrayed us, so they were ready for our invasion.”

Dean blinks. “So...wait. Really? You...you fought through a bunch of demons to get to me?” He sits forward, frowning, because something isn’t adding up.

Cas nods, sneezing messily into the open air, requiring Dean to once again, mop him up.

“So let me get this straight. The reason it took you so long, was because an angel, who wanted me to break the first seal, ratted you out, and you had an unexpected war?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Okay - then, I don’t get what the problem is. How is that your fault?”

Cas sighs. “Angels should overcome any and all obstacles in order to achieve their objectives.” He frowns, and his head starts to list to the side, towards Dean. “I am not good at that.”

“Uh…” Dean fumbles with words as it becomes apparent that Cas is slumping toward him. He scoots inch after inch away, but any more and Cas will end up on his lap. So, Dean resigns to Cas resting his head on his shoulder. “All better now?”

“Yes, actually. I believe the room is slowing down.”

Dean cranes his neck to see if Bobby or Sam are returning, because really, any company would be aces right about now. But they’re nowhere in sight, the assholes.

Dean drags a hand down his face, knowing he has to address the situation before Cas does use his powers in a fit of frustration and misery. Besides, he grudgingly admits, he does bear one third of the responsibility for this situation.

“Listen, Cas. You’re not a...a fuck up. Okay? There’s no reason to think that you are. You saved me. No matter what, you saved me. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be there.” Dean shrugs. “If I had to choose, I’d rather be here dealing with all this shit...with Sam, with you, with Bobby...than being down there with Alastair.” He almost chokes on that name, but passes it off with another cough.

Cas senses his unease, and sighs.

“Besides,” Dean adds, stretching his neck to try and catch a glimpse of Castiel’s face. “You’re the best comic relief a hunter could ask for.”

Now Cas huffs, struggling to sit up.

Dammit. Dean reaches over, grabs Cas around the shoulders and pulls him back. “Okay, okay. Look. Part of having free will, is making mistakes. It comes with the package...like...the complimentary french fry when you order onion rings.”

“Are they like churros?”

“No, and that’s not the point. The point is, you may be a celestial being, but you’re not God. And if you really believe that God is the only perfect thing around, well, then by default, you aren’t perfect. You may want to hold yourself to a higher standard, but you aren’t perfect. Can’t change that. You always do your best, man, whether you make good or bad choices, and whether or not I like your choices. At least you’re making them on your own, and I know you’re trying.”

It’s quiet, and Dean starts to think Cas passed out during his little speech.

Then, in a small voice, he hears, “I feel like shit, Dean.”

Dean sighs. “I know, Cas. I do, too.”

Both the hidden and obvious message in that short exchange isn’t lost on either party, stoned or not.

“Alright - coffee’s all done, strong and hot. Drink up, gentlemen.” Bobby’s holding out their drinks, giving no indication that he heard their conversation.

Cas sits up, and both take their respective mugs. A couple sips later, Dean squints up at Bobby. “This tastes weird.”

Bobby flaps a hand at him. “You’re so stuffed up, everything’ll taste weird. Just drink it.”

When they’re half empty, Cas lets out a huge yawn, with Dean right behind him. Bobby swipes both cups, mumbling something about a refill.

He hurries to the kitchen, where Sam’s waiting.

“Well?” Sam whispers, anxiously chewing on a fingernail.

Bobby rolls his eyes. “Jesus, you’re like a girl waitin’ to get asked out. They drank it. Should be out in no time.”

Sam lets out a breath. “Thank God. But did we really have to spike Dean’s?”

Bobby snorts. “After that little share-fest? You think he wants to face either of us?”

“Good point.”

xxxxx

Fifteen minutes later, Cas and Dean are comfortably snoring together on the couch. Castiel’s drooling on Dean’s shoulder, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

[HPG]

This was great and I loved that you pulled parts from your other two stories and put them in here. Thanks for writing these!

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

This just has cluster written all in it. AND ITS AMAZING!!!

I'm in tears I'm laughing so hard Everything was perfect. The plot. The characters. The everyone will help Castiel through this and overlap into catastrophe is just brilliant!

[snuffles]

Oh my God, I was also laughing so hard in tears! And that part on comic relief, LOL!, I wish I could quote all those lines but it would basically end up quoting the whole thing! And that feels at the end, Aaaaawww!

Edited September 27, 2015 by snuffles