Keep You Posted (m, Dean, SPN, season 9 au)

[bun]

(um so, hi, i guess? i'm new and terrified. i mean i got the courage to make an account in early december but only finally finding a way to get myself to post something. i'm terribly sorry if this is all awkward, incredibly social anxiety does not help when i'm already afraid to be remotely open about this stuff. uh, yeah. so a few things i want to note:

i don't know 100% how people go about rating for language, but i guess it should be kind of a warning that i do with with profanity?? I guess I should also say spoilers up to season 9 and partially into season 9 since it's a season 9 au, but that seasons be out a long time anyways so idk how important it is to mention that.

Anyways, I should probably explain how it's an AU. Episode 1 and 2 of season 9 still happen. The changes are that Castiel goes directly to the bunker. Dean calls Gadreel/Zeke out on his the angel's will find us crap and Castiel stays in the bunker. Instead of fighting on earth a group of pacifist angels are the leading group, so they're not being too much of a bother. Abbadon is still an issue. Crowley is still in the bunker. I've debated bringing up a part of the AU because I'm not entirely sure how important it is to this particular story. I'll probably bring it up later if it becomes more relevant I guess (it involves good omens). Oh, right, Metatron also doesn't turn into more of an asshole. But it's okay because Sam's still dying on the inside and has no idea there's an angel inside of him.

So, uhm, sorry about that glob of text. It's actually my last day home for the holidays and I'm on a flight back to my dorms tomorrow. I was really hoping to try and do something earlier, but, uh, yeah. Seeing that I'll be back in classes on Monday I'm not 100% sure how often I'll get time to write. i only titled it just now because i usually don't title stuff... so... Anyways, I'll finish up with my nervous rambling and get on with it.
also i'm really sorry if in any place castiel's name was replaced with castle because my auto-correct kept changing it and i only just turned that off now and even though i've read through this 5 or 6 times it's still very likely i've missed something.)

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[MoL BUNKER LIBRARY -- DAY.]

[DEAN sits at table with laptop open.]

Sam says there aren’t any cases. Dean says that’s bull fucking shit. There’s always cases. The world is never so together that there isn’t a single ghost, vamp, shifter, rawhead, skin walker, witch, night hag, wendigo, demon, etc. not causing crap somewhere in some corner of the world. Dean would look for one himself, but—

hhehTSHHHHUH!!

—there was that little problem.

Dean snuffles heavy and rubs the top of his hand under his nose. However, the next breath he takes through his mouth is greeted by the globs of snot he’s been practically swallowing from all the damn sniffling. This is not comfortable. It was bad enough that breathing felt like he was gargling rocks immediately after rubbing sandpaper across the entirety of his throat. Dean sniffles hard one more time.

Okay, this is only making it worse. He needs to stop doing that.

Dean sniffles.

Goddamnit.

The next breath of air is worse. He can feel the crap in the back of his throat. Dean attempts to clear his throat, bringing a fist up to his mouth. It’s not helping. Dean tries harder, which only triggers coughing, which then leads to heavier coughing. The hunter can feel something in the back of his throat loosening. He’s getting there. Dean forces the cough out harder, hunching over dramatically, knocking his elbows against the library table. Shit, he’s so close.

“Dean?!”

Fuck. Not now.

A frantic pair of feet scramble towards the Winchester and Dean feels hands awkwardly trying to figure out how to go about touching him in a way that will make him feel better. Dean holds up his hand in attempts to signal the intruder to wait.

“Dean, you should be—”

“Cas—” Dean moves his tongue around as he coughs because somehow that seems to be helping. “Stop—a sec.”

Castiel, former angel, new human, ex-celestial-being-that-used-to-have-the-mojo-to-zap-people-back-to-full-health, is defiantly not panicking. Nor is he even slightly alarmed.

These are both lies.

Filthy, filthy lies.

Dean is bent over hacking up what might be his lung, acting like he can barely breathe, and is now doing something bizarre with his tongue. Castiel has a hard enough time trying to “care for Dean” (whom did not wish to be cared for) without his powers period. Cas hasn’t ever seen Dean do that with his tongue. Surely it was strange even by human standards.

“Dean? Do you want water? Medicine? Should I get whiskey??”

The first time Castiel had witnessed Dean succumb to illness since the angel’s fall …had not been particularly relaxing. Cas had been composed of about 34% incredible worry 33% sheer panic and 33% mounds stress for most of the duration. It hadn’t been very helpful that Sam, Kevin, and Cas discovered Dean was under the weather until after Dean had collapsed into Castiel’s arms after returning from a hunt. It also hadn’t helped that when Castiel asked Dean what to get him for medicine the hunter had replied whiskey. And did so more than once. And continued to do so despite Sam telling Castiel to stop bringing Dean whiskey, because Dean asked for it. But mostly it hadn’t been very helpful that Dean was Dean and Dean doesn’t stay put.

As long as Dean Winchester was capable of some form of movement that can get him from point A to point B there is absolutely no need to take it easy or rest.

When Dean’s only response is to continue hacking Castiel’s eyebrows knit together and the small frown on his face depends. He can no longer simply touch Dean and know what is wrong. And as many times as Dean has gotten since since Castiel’s fall, knowing what to do hasn’t become much easier. Come to think of it Dean’s been sick for at least some time almost every month since then. Granted, a lot of it had been overlapping from the end of a month to the next so Dean was sick for a total of 3 times. But Cas is still worried.

That was back in May, and now it was mid September.

Dean coughs and wheezes until he finally spits crap out into his hand. He’s left panting in the aftermath and just wants to drop his head on the table and sleep for 10 years or something.

“Dean?”

Oh yeah, Cas is hovering next to him. Dean frowns and wipes his hand on his jeans and rubs his nose.

“What?” Oh goody. How lucky he was. Dean’s scratchy voice will totally be reassuring to the anxiety ridden former angel.

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice is soft and Dean feels a cool hand resting against his forehead. The hunter jerks away and bats at Castiel’s hand.

“Cut it hh… cut it ouhhhh… cut it out.” Dean’s face scrunches up and he rubs at his nose again trying to stave off itching creeping it’s way up his nose.

“Dean you should be in bed re—”

“hh… hhiTCHHUUH!! ISCHHUH!!”

“Bless you Dean. I must insisted that—’

“eXGSHHN! hekTCHHHN!! KSHHHNDJSH!!” Dean manages to catch the last three sneezes the purlicue of his hand. He groans in the aftermath and snuffles wetly. When Dean lifts his head back up it becomes apparent he’s got snot all over his hand and dripping from his nose. “Fugk be…”

“I do not think that would be appropriate in this situation.” Cas tilts his head examining Dean’s situation. “I believe according to the social construct of human society I’m supposed to insist you take me to dinner first.”

Dean’s eyes widen, his mouth turns downwards and opens slightly, and he raises an eyebrow. “Did… Did you jusdt magke a joke?”

Castle is grinning. He is very proud of himself. When Dean sniffles hard again the smile fades into a frown. “Dean, you’re sick.”

Dean opens his mouth and contemplates his options. He already knows he’s beyond denying it to Sam at least. That’s why Sam was lying about there not being any cases to take care of of. But he could keep telling Cas he was fine. And maybe Castiel would believe him and stop fussing. “Dnah, I’b fide.”

Dean waves his hand dismissively at Castiel. Castiel frowns harder.

“Dean, you’re sick and you should be resting.” Castiel speaks with his lower voice. His Holier-Than-Thou-I-Am-An-Angel-Of-The-Lord-And-You-Will-Obey-Me voice.

Dean swallows. That voice did things to him. And Dean totally hadn't nicknamed this voice Cas’ dom voice. Nope.

“I’m—“ Dean clears his throat into his hand that’s not covered in snot (his left hand). “‘M nod tired Cas. Ad I’b kinda busy. If you really wand to helbp, jusdt go fide a bogx of tissues.”

Castiel’s expressions soften and he seems satisfied enough with this task to leave Dean.

Dean closes his eyes and exhales in relief. He did also need those tissues.

“Dude?”

God. Come on.

Dean opens his eyes and glares up at his younger brother. “Whadt, Sa—hhehhiGKSHHHUH!!”

“What are you doing?” Sam’s giving Dean a less than amused face, lips synched together and arms crossed. “Besides getting snot all over the table and yourself… That’s gross Dean. I told you we can take it easy today. No cases.”

“Shudt ubp. I cad sidt id the damb library if I wadnt to.” Dean sniffles indignantly at Sam. But Sam’s not looking at Dean, he’s fishing through his pockets looking for something. Dean frowns and looks down at his hands.

“Here,” Sam’s holding out a rumpled bandana from his pocket when Dean looks up. The younger Winchester’s face is soft like he’s trying to approach frightened rabbit. And there were those damn puppy-dog eyes Sam had. The ones that made Dean feel like crap, and Dean already feels like he’s got enough crap inside him.

The older Winchester snatches the bandana from Sam’s hand. Dean wipes his hands and at his nose before finally having a chance to blow his nose heavily into the bandana. Well that spots not going to cut it anymore. Dean folds it over, coughs into it once, and blows again. He drops it on the table and leans back in the chair, exhaling roughly enough his breath catches a few coughs.

Sam’s still giving him that face.

Dean rolls his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.” Sam smiles and huffs a laugh. “You just look like crap. I think I actually feel bad for you right now, Dean.”

Dean squints at Sam. He’s defiantly picked that habit up from Castiel over the years.

“Shut up. I don’t need your pity.” Dean tries to lean back further as if being farther away from Sam will help him escape the pity. However, Dean pushes a bit too hard and knocks the chair and himself over with a loud bang.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice is mix with alarm and worry. He moves over to the fallen chair and when he realizes Dean’s fine Sam covers his mouth with his hand and tries very hard not to laugh.

“I hate you.” Dean grunts from the floor and Sam offers a hand. Reluctantly Dean takes it and lets Sam help him up. God, now his back hurts and his head hurts even more, that’s exactly what he needed. Dean leans on Sam a little bit more than intended and the younger brother takes this as a signal it’s okay from him to put an arm around Dean.

“Hey, easy there. I got you.” Sam murmurs. But Dean can’t have that, no, that’s too sappy and huggy feely, so he breaks away from Sam and leans over the laptop going back to what he was doing before he was interrupted. He doesn’t need a chair.

“‘M fine.” Dean grunts and Sam rolls his eyes this time.

“How about you grab the laptop and move to your bedroom where you can lie down?” Sam suggests gently. “Then you can go back to doing… whatever you’re doing. I’ll even carry it for you.”

“Jesus Christ Sam, I’m not fuckin five.” Dean stands up straight and faces his brother.

“Yeah, okay. I know. But—”

“No buts. That’s it.”

“Dean, seriously? How many times have you been sick in the past few months.”

“I don’t know?” Dean pauses. “Shut up. I’m fine. It’s a cold. It’s not a big deal.”

“Dean, I’m worried.” That hit Dean hard. Right in the chest.

“Well, stop it. Because I’m getting friggin’ stir crazy. I haven’t left the bunker in ages. I should have been out huntin 6 weeks ago.”

“Dean, you broke 2 of your ribs on that hunt in San Diego with the Rusalka. That girl called 911 and you ended up in the hospital. You almost drowned.”

“Almost drowned saving your ass.” Dean grumbles and Sam immediately feels bad because it was true. “Besides I stayed here, in the damn bunker, for 6 goddamn weeks waiting to heal because you and Cas were so damn paranoid. I could have easily gone out and gone hunting.”

“Dean.” Sam pleads, letting his shoulders drop.

“And I already found a c—hhihghSHHHHUUH!!” Dean pitches forwards sneezing openly without warning. Sam flinches and jumps back a little.

“Uhg. Dean… Come on, really?”

“Sharig is carig.” Dean smiles sourly at Sam and then turns to the laptop to pull up the article. Dean takes a step back and holds out his arms, suggesting Sam to look. The younger Winchester hesitantly moves over to the laptop and makes effort to not touch anything in the general vicinity of where Dean’s been.

Sam frowns. “Lady boiled to death in own shower? Uh… okay. That’s a little weird. I’ll give you that.”

“There anodther one.” Dean pulls up another page. “Sabe town.”

“Man suffers sever hyperthermia and dies…” Sam’s making a face. “Okay…”

“Read the guy was oudside. In the rain. Id’s Septeber, Sab.” Dean picks the bandana up from the table and blows his nose until he’s out of breath. “Somethin is frying these people. Witches maybe. Demons. I dunno but It sounds like our kind of thing.”

Sam takes a deep breath and looks away and then looks back at Dean. He feels bad. He knows Dean’s been itching to hunt and 6 weeks was a ridiculously long time for him to go without a one. Hell, Sam knows broken ribs haven’t stopped Dean from hunting before. So the fact that he for so long because Sam and Cas were worried has to count for something, right? Maybe Sam was grasping at straws and trying to bullshit himself into letting Dean hunt. The younger brother exhales loudly.

“You swear you’re okay to do this?”

“Yes, okay. I’m fine, Sam.”

“I mean it, Dean. The minute you start deteriorating we’re calling Garth and getting someone else on the case.”

“Sam—”

“I’m not joking. I’m not going to let you get yourself hurt or worse, killed, because instead of shooting you sneeze on the monster or something.”

“I’m not guhh… fuckin… huhh… huhhhTSHHHUH!!” Dean bends forwards sneezing into his left arm. His right arm looks for support on the table. It finds the edge of the laptop that’s hovering off the edge of the table. The laptop flips off the table and lands on the floor.

Sam looks at Dean.

“Yeah, yeah okay. I’ll keebp you posted. Jesus, calm down.” Dean grumbles looking away because he knows he’s lost.

“Dean!!”

Goddamnit.

The older Winchester turns his head and watches Castiel scramble back into the library holding far too many boxes of tissues in his arm. Dean and Sam both wondered 1) how Castiel was managing to hold all of them and 2) where the hell he even found them all. The ex-angel stops an inch from smacking right into Sam and pants a little.

“Are these enough?” He looks at Dean hopefully. “I can look again if not. I might have missed a couple.”

One of the boxes falls from Castiel’s arms and lands on the floor next to the laptop.

[telltale]

Your note wasn't awkward at all. I totally understand the social anxiety, unfortunately, and I kind of gave up on the show several seasons ago (although never on the precious fic!) so the refresher was super helpful for me, thank-you.

As for the fic itself, I love that it is Dean that is sick bc I have a Dean problem, I love how sick he is already, the denial, and oh, yeah, I adore the person-gets-run-down-and-gets-sick-over-and-over-again scenario (like, it is my fave) and I also really like and appreciate Cas and Sam's different brands of concern. Anyway, this is really awesome and intriguing. And 'hi' back. /waves

[SterlingSilver]

Aww~! Hello, bun, and welcome to the forum! I'm a big Supernatural fan too, so it's always awesome to meet new members around who also like the show x33. This is such a cute fic! The bro-feels between Sam and Dean are intense, and I love the Dean and Cas interaction! It's all so adorable and very true to the show, even with the AU >w<. Thank you so much for contributing to the writing area here on the forum, and I look forward to seeing more from you!

[Anilkex]

Castiel, former angel, new human, ex-celestial-being-that-used-to-have-the-mojo-to-zap-people-back-to-full-health, is defiantly not panicking. Nor is he even slightly alarmed.
These are both lies.
Filthy, filthy lies.

This part was awesome!

I really liked this a lot - brief peek into the day, repeat-sick Dean, Cas made a joke, and Sam was alllll Sam. Great story!

Your post was fine! It's nerve wracking the first time you post. Then you find so many neato stories to comment on...and you post more stories...then it's an open tab on your phone...I mean...

Anyhoo.

Welcome!!!

[HPG]

You did such an awesome job. I thought this part was adorable:

“Fugk be…”
“I do not think that would be appropriate in this situation.” Cas tilts his head examining Dean’s situation. “I believe according to the social construct of human society I’m supposed to insist you take me to dinner first.”
Dean’s eyes widen, his mouth turns downwards and opens slightly, and he raises an eyebrow. “Did… Did you jusdt magke a joke?”
Castle is grinning. He is very proud of himself.

I hope you continue to post more