inonebasket | (no subject)

"Cas...Cas, you do realize that is a little creepy and a lot gay, right?"

Cas doesn't quite understand this human obsession with not being gay, but that aside- "You don't feel safer with Sam nearby?"

"Yeah, but I don't sleep in the same bed with him!" Cas, why so weird? "Personal space, Cas, it exists in families, too."

"...then you should rent a room with two beds." Dean seriously you are sometimes too stupid to function. How do you even manage it.

"I rent a room with two beds and you'll just sleep on the floor again. No way. I'm not stupid." Cas, seriously, you are going to break your neck sleeping like that, you are too stupid to live sometimes.

"Is that why you did that?" Cas doesn't even get it, Dean, he just went with the flow. "I didn't realize it bothered you. Get two beds next time."

"I'm not getting two beds, Cas! Deal with it!" ...That sounded a little gay. "It's. Cheaper with one bed anyway."

"All right."

Castiel takes them two states over before finally agreeing to stop for the night. The pained look on Dean's face and the way he carefully cradles his arm against his chest may have something to do with it, and as Dean gets the room Castiel disappears only to return to the room with a bottle of Excedrin and another bottle of Jack. He sets both on the table, and trusts Dean not to do anything too stupid with them both.

Dean promptly takes a handful of Excedrin and downs them with a full third of the bottle of Jack. Believe it or not, he's doing better with the drinking than he was. He practically falls into the bed, curling onto his left side and not even bothering to take off his boots. It's just too much effort and requires energy he doesn't have to expend. Who would have thought that riding in a car with cracked ribs and a bone-bruise would end up wearing him out so much?

He spends his time waiting for alcohol and painkillers to work their magic quietly. This is definitely the worst he's felt in a while and yes, he's missing Cas' angelic healing powers something awful.

"Come on, Cas, sleep. No remembering the stars tonight."

Cas isn't in the room, unfortunately. But he does return shortly (again) with a bucket of ice since this motel miraculously has a working ice maker.

Retrieving a towel from the bathroom, Cas fills it with ice, wets the scratchy terrycloth just enough to make it damp and twists it closed. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Dean's arm into his lap, resting the ice on the center of the bruise.

Edited 2011-11-22 08:21 (UTC)

Wow. Mr. Daniels is working his magic but good tonight because Dean could have sworn Cas was right over--no, that's a coat rack. Whatever.

He hisses when Cas applies ice to the bruise, but he's had plenty of experience icing hurts and doesn't yank his arm away. Really, they should have done this yesterday, but better late than never, right?

"You hear me, Cas? Sleep."

"I will." Cas lifts the ice after a moment, looks at the bruise and shifts the towel to the side to cover the edge of the bruise. "When I'm done." He thinks he might understand why Dean complained about being tired after driving all day. He'd just thought Dean was over-exaggerating but driving really is exhausting.

Edited 2011-11-22 08:28 (UTC)

"Leave it. It'll heal even if you don't ice it." Dean's not the only one wiped out here, and he's not nearly drunk enough (or even just tipsy enough for that matter) to see how tired Cas looks.

"Let me do this, Dean."

Cas isn't budging and if Dean wants him to sleep this minute he'll have to knock him out. If he can't heal Dean with his mojo, then he's going to do what he can. Sometimes the emotional exhaustion needs to be treated before the physical.

"Cas." Dean sits up, wraps his good arm around Cas' shoulders and lies back down, dragging Cas with him. "You drove for 16 freaking hours. You are human now. Sleep."

Only that has the complete opposite effect of what Dean was probably going for, considering Cas stiffens like a board, lying rigidly with one fist gripping the ice-towel as it drips onto Dean's arm, shirt and the bedspread.

"Relax, willya? And chuck that thing, it's freezing." Yes, okay, this is weird and kind of uncomfortable and kind of gay, but Dean is tired and he knows Cas is tired and they both need to sleep and neither of them are going to manage more than an hour or two of that if Cas doesn't stop fussing over something as stupid as a little bruise.

Big bruise. Whatever. Dean's had worse.

"Let go, Dean," Cas says in what he hopes is a commanding tone. He'd have already shoved him away if not for the. Y'know. The bone bruise and the cracked ribs and all.

Dean scoffs. "I let go, you're just gonna go back to freezing all the skin off my arm and neither of us is gonna get any sleep."

Castiel feels a shot of the same emotion that had him burying the crowbar into the back of the Leviathan's skull and grabs Dean's shoulder, shoving him back against the mattress. That leaves Castiel hovering over him with a glare, trapping him with hands on either side of Dean's head on the mattress, half-kneeling to the side with his waist twisted.

"Don't."

What.

Dean blinks up at him, confused and tired and just ready for the day to be over already. "Don't what? Don't sleep? I thought that was the point of us getting this damn room."

With a push and not another word Castiel climbs off of Dean, grabs the towel and ice from the bed and heads into the bathroom, shutting the door after himself.

"Cas!"

What is even going on? Man, and he thought Cas was hard to understand when he was still an angel.

Screw it. Dean rolls back onto his side. He's going to sleep.

That's good, because Cas is just going to take a moment to calm himself down. He drops the towel and ice into the sink before gripping the sides tightly and hanging his head, leaning his weight on his arms.

No. Before, as an angel, what he felt for Dean had transcended the physical; Jimmy's body, while it had needs of its own, had been more a container than his. With Castiel's Grace, it hadn't wanted for anything.

Now, though.

Cas runs the tap and washes his face quickly, not bothering to pat it dry. He closes his eyes, feels the water drip down his neck and wet the collar of his T-shirt, feels it stick his eyelashes together and creep through the scruffy beginnings of a beard on his cheeks, chin and throat. Calm.

Thankful that Dean hadn't tried to press the issue, Castiel emerges from the bathroom. Hopefully Dean is already out, because as Cas removes his boots he decides to take the floor just to be safe and curls up on his side, back tucked up against the side of the mattress.

Cas is in the bathroom so long that Dean falls asleep, lying on his back with an arm falling off the mattress. He sleeps soundly for a few hours before something jolts him awake. Blinking into the darkness, it only takes a moment or two for him to realize that Cas is not on the bed where he belongs. With a grunt, Dean pushes up on his elbows, peering over the edge of the bed and--yep. There he is.

He reaches down to ruffle Cas' hair. "Hey. C'mon, we talked about this. Floor's not for sleepin'."