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Dean stops in front of Cas’ door, wondering if he should intrude or leave the man in peace. His concern for the newly human angel wins out, and he taps lightly.
“Hey Cas. Buddy. You in there? You ok?”
A sharp retching sound can be heard coming from inside. Dean frowns and decides to go ahead and poke his head in. Steeling himself, he cracks the door open a bit and peeks around it. “Cas?”
“Hello, Dean,” comes the pathetic sounding voice from the bed.
Dean takes a breath and opens the door all the way, walking inside. Cas is lying on his bed, his tie askew and coat falling off his shoulders. His face looks practically green. Sweat drips from his forehead. He is semi-leaning over a small trash can next to the bed. His smile at Dean as he walks in is both weak and endearing. Dean smiles back with sympathy.
“Oh man, I guess that pastrami WAS too old, wasn’t it? Dammit. I TOLD Sammy to clean out the fridge last week.”
“Dean!” says Cas, suddenly dipping his head directly over the trash can. “Do NOT say the word pastrami!”
“Oh,” says Dean sheepishly. “Oh yeah, right. Sorry, man.”
Cas jumps up from the bed, stumbling crookedly, and runs for the bathroom. Dean can hear him retching through the open door.
“Well shit,” Dean whispers, before following him into the bathroom. Cas is sitting up, leaning against the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl. He tries to smile when he sees Dean, but can’t quite make it this time.
“Is this what being human is like?” he asks quietly.
“Well, sometimes,” Dean answers, grabbing a washcloth from under the sink and running it under cool water. “I’ve had my share of worshipping at the feet of the almighty toilet bowl.”
Cas cocks his head to the side, in that way he does.
“Why would you worship a toilet, Dean? Of all the objects to worship, it seems an unlikely choice.”
Dean huffs out a quiet laugh and kneels down next to Cas, gently wiping his face and mouth with the washcloth. Cas tries to wave him away.
“I’m disgusting, Dean. You don’t have to do that. My mouth tastes like…. “ Unable to think of a worthy comparison, he merely finishes with “vomit”.
Dean easily pushes Cas’ hand down.
“Sit still,” Dean admonishes. Cas quiets and Dean finishes wiping his face, as if he were wiping the face of a child. Cas waits patiently.
“Being human is sometimes gross, like puking your guts out,” Dean says. “But it’s also holding someone’s hair while they puke, which is mostly what girls do, or checking on each other to see if they need anything. Like a washcloth. We’ve all been here, Cas. Being human is dirty work.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it,” Cas sighs.
“Yeah,” Dean says, sitting all the way down on the floor, “Sometimes I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it either.”Cas’ face is drawn and considerably tired looking. His head nods as if the effort to keep it up is too great, and he rests it against Dean’s shoulder. Dean shifts a bit, closing the lid on the toilet and then putting an arm around Cas to support him better.
“Is this what humans do? Human friends, that is?” Cas asks in a whisper. Dean can tell he is close to falling asleep.
“Yeah,” Dean answers, after a beat. “Maybe not so much the asshole frat boys. But good friends? Sure. We take care of each other.”
“Asshole frat boys?” Cas asks.
“I’ll tell you about them later. You can find them in the dictionary under “douchebags”.
“Ah yes, like the guys who wear sunglasses indoors.”
Dean laughs. “Yes, exactly. Just like those guys.”
Cas’ head slips down, resting on Dean’s chest. Dean pats his head affectionately.
“Heya, Cas?”
“Yes, Dean?”
“Let’s get you back up and into bed if you think you’re done spewing for a little while.”
“Ok,” Cas mumbles, still unmoving.
“Come on buddy, upsy daisy.” Dean circles an arm around him and underneath his armpits and lifts him mostly to a standing position. Cas isn’t much help. They stumble together back into Cas’ bedroom. Dean tries to lower Cas back down onto the bed gently, but Cas is heavy and ends up dropping down harder than Dean meant for him to.
“Oof, sorry Cas. You ok?”
Cas gives him a pathetic thumbs up.
“Ok then. Whadya say we get you out of this coat and your pants and you can crawl under the covers?”
“You trying to get me out of my pants, Dean Winchester?” Cas jokes, smiling but not opening his eyes.
“Ha! I would never take advantage of an incapacitated angel like that. I am a gentleman.”
“My loss,” Cas sighs, bantering back. “Though I’m just a plain ol’ human now. Worshipping a toilet.”
“That’s ok,” Dean says, pulling off Cas’ coat and unbuckling his belt. “You and me both.”
Dean leaves Cas his shirt and underwear, stripping off the tie, and gently moves him around to tuck him in properly, thinking back on the times he did this for Sam when they were young. His dad was never one for sitting with Sam when he was puking or feverish, so Dean had done it, like Dean had done so many things.
“There ya go, Sunshine,” Dean whispers, finally getting Cas in position and the blankets tucked properly around him. “Do you want some 7Up or something?”
“7Up?” Cas mumbles back.
“Yeah, it’s a drink. Cold. Fizzy. Makes you feel better when you’re sick. My mom used to bring me some when I didn’t feel good. Before she….” He cleared his throat. “It’s another thing that humans do.”
“That sounds nice,” whispers Cas.
“Alright, I’ll be right back. You get some rest.” And without really thinking, Dean leans over and softly kisses Cas on the forehead. He starts to hear that stupid fratboy voice in his head say “No homo, man”, but tells it to shut the fuck up. He’s human, and it’s a human thing to do.