godless_son | For Dean

For Dean - BEES

It is interesting, with the advantage of hindsight, to look back on this night one year prior. He remembers feeling jealous, not that he recognized it at the time, of the couples around him. He felt irritated at the attention (the perfectly normal attention) Dean paid to others and a restlessness that he could not figure out how to quell. Hindsight is embarrassing.

Now, with an arm wrapped around Dean's waist, listening to the crowd begin their countdown, he cannot believe how much life can change in only one year. One year out of thousands is a blink of an eye and yet it has been the most defining time in his very long life.

That is not to say that the massive effigy waiting to be lit is not disturbing, because it is, but he finds himself grinning stupidly over at Dean, admiring his flushed face and readying himself to kiss him precisely at midnight.

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Some of the fatigue lifts beneath Castiel's hand, and Dean opens his eyes, only to squeeze them closed for the sudden, screaming presence of dozens of stings.

"Who puts bees in a damn countdown ball?" he groans, but the cold creeps back in, fog rolling back over Dean's thoughts. Cas tells him not to sleep, but it's so hard not to let himself drift away when his eyes are closed.

Castiel does not know but he is furious as he pulls Dean closer, pressing his lips against Dean's icy neck. He flies more quickly than he usually does when travelling with Dean, landing in the middle of their bedroom.

He ignores Annie's startled barks and settles Dean on the bed, stripping him down to his underwear with a wave of his hand, breath catching as he sees he's underestimated the number of stings.

He crawls onto the bed and pressing both hands to Dean's chest, hands starting to glow as he pushes grace through, trying to at least stop the spread of whatever is happening. "Dean," he demands. "Say something, please. Stay awake with me. "

Sleep is immediately impossible, whatever Castiel's doing waking points of pain all over Dean's body, his muscles racked with shivers in the sudden cold.

"What are you doing?" he grinds out, trying to push Castiel's hands away. "It feels awful, stop."

"If I stop you are going to die, Dean," he snarls, grabbing at his hands. "You are hypothermic, do you understand that?"

He takes a deep breath, softening his voice as he looks down at Dean's miserable face. "I'm sorry. It's this or I stick you in the bathtub. I can't fix it and I don't know why and if I stop you could die, alright?"

"That doesn't make any sense," Dean growls, angry, even if it's not Castiel's fault, but he can't understand how he came to be here, freezing his balls off because of a few dozen bee stings.

"I had an electric blanket," he says, teeth chattering together, and Dean regards this as a good, if uncomfortable, development. Too hypothermic and he wouldn't be able to shiver at all. "Crank up the heat, make a whole pot of tea. You keep healing me, you're gonna exhaust yourself."

"Don't be ridiculous," he huffs, keeping one hand on Dean's chest as he carefully pushes him onto his side, sliding in behind him.

"You were stung by supernatural bees, Dean. Your heart rate is slow and your lips are blue. I am not using an electric blanket.

He places his free hand on Dean's neck, trying to cover as many bites as possible. "How badly does it hurt?"

"Stings like a bitch all over," Dean grouses, shoving back against the warmth he can feel rolling off Castiel's body.

He's still so fucking tired, but now that he knows why, he vehemently fights off sleep. "Should heat up my core," he says, trying to drag Castiel's hand down to his chest.

"Dean Winchester I am once again an angel of the Lord with all the knowledge and power that entails stop being bossy," he growls, moving his other hand to a particularly vicious cluster of stings on Dean's abdomen.

"Every time I stop the poison spreads. I am cutting it off as much as I can at the source until it runs its course. Stop arguing or you are going to the bathtub."

"I'm not bossing I'm trained for this," Dean gripes back, "Keep my core warm, it'll spread warm blood to my extremities."

He groans, flinching away from the hand against his belly. "Can't you make it not hurt so much? Feels like fire, dammit."

"Fine," Castiel snaps, waving a hand at the bathroom before flying them both inside and unceremoniously dumping Dean into the bathtub full of now hot water.

"That should adequately warm your core with my supervision."

Dean splutters, limbs too clumsy to stop his ignominious descent beneath the surface of the water. He manages to get his nose topside, and then his mouth, now set in an impressive scowl.

"Now you have time to make me tea." He licks at blue lips. "Put whiskey in it."

Castiel is practically vibrating as he tries to suppress a meltdown, not even stopping Kara as she comes prancing into the wet bathroom.

"If you were not on the brink of death I would dump you back into the snow. Naked. You are fortunate that I love you and will instead make you tea. No whiskey."

He spins on his heel, stomping past curious animals to make Dean his damned tea.

"Whiskey!" Dean calls after him, chin tucked against the side of the tub. It's warm in the water, which should be comfortable, welcome, even, but it burns, and when fatigue begins to niggle at Dean's consciousness, he doesn't fight it as hard as he should.

He hardly notices Kara curling up on top of his head, paws kneading at the wet tufts of his hair. "Stoppit," Dean mutters, closing his eyes.

"Open your eyes," Castiel commands as he returns, crouching down and making no attempt to move Kara where she is biting at the spikes of Dean's hair.

He drops two fingers into the water, heating it back up and settles the mug on the edge of the tub.

"Dean, I have your tea, just as you wanted it. Look at me, please."

Dean grunts in reply, body once again beginning to shiver. It's the worst, somehow he's never noticed how awful shivering is, never being able to be still, and Dean shifts, cheek losing its mooring against the porcelain.

It's better in the water, he decides, ignoring the voice grating at his ears. And then two sets of claws dig into his scalp, and Dean yelps, surging upright in the water.

"Good girl," Castiel murmurs as he detaches Kara and places her on his lap, pinning Dean in place with a hand splayed against his cold chest.

"Dean, keep your eyes open or we are going to the hospital. The nurses are far less easily swayed by your charms than I am. Please, Dean."

Dean glares at him, lids twitching against the fatigue threatening to pull them down again. "At least get in here with me," he mutters - even the water warmed porcelain feels too cool against his back. "Couldn't hurt, could it?"

"It would be my pleasure," he murmurs, smoothing wet hair back and leaning forward to kiss Dean's far too cold forehead. He undresses before carefully lifting Dean's shoulders away from the hard porcelain, sliding in behind him.

"It this better?" he asks, shifting until Dean's head is resting on his shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Dean admits, relaxing into the cradle of Castiel's body. It's easier now to ignore the many burning points of pain, stings lighting up his skin like the strike of tiny meteors.

"Easier to think, though," he says. "Sorry, this really isn't - " Dean huffs a laugh. "Definitely isn't the night you wanted."

Castiel smiles against Dean's cheek, hand settling on his belly as he continues to warm him, more slowly now that Dean's heart rate has risen just enough to allow it.

"I'd imagine it is not what either of us had in mind, although it seems fitting to ring in a new year with a near death experience," Castiel says softly, stretching his legs out alongside Dean's. "Someday, perhaps, it will not be this way. I am hopeful."

"I'd say not while we're in Darrow," says Dean, head tipped back to look at him, back arched to press himself into Castiel's blissfully warm hand. "But it's not like we ever caught a break at home, either."

Castiel hums thoughtfully, as he drops a kiss to Dean's neck.

"I still have hope," he murmurs, staring down at Dean's pale face. "One day I will choose to be human with you and it will be a decision we are both comfortable with. Perhaps we'll get a house with a porch, something smaller than Mike and Neil's, maybe something older. We could get another dog for Annie to play with. Perhaps none of it will happen, but I like to think about it."

"It makes nights like these easier," says Dean, as close as he's ever come to admitting that he does think about it - the future, the distant possibility of safety and comfort and a lasting, enduring peace.

Shifting, he pulls Castiel's hand to the center of his chest, where he feels the worst of the cold still sinking into his skin. "At least one more dog. Can't have more cats than dogs."

"We will definitely need a house if we are to be outnumbered two to one," he laughs, thumb sweeping along Dean's collarbone as he presses his fingers to his chest.

"It would have a way to shelter the Impala and I would like a garden. I do not actually know how to garden but regardless, I could try. I think it should be white or blue."

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For Dean - BEES

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