Part 6: We're in it for the Long Haul

Sam struggles to get Dean and Castiel back to the impala. Dean groans, but Castiel quietly accepts Sam's help with no trouble. "Must be indigestion or somethin'." Dean mumbles as he plops himself down in the backseat of the impala. He stretches himself out all along the backseat when Sam stands there looking at him, "What, dude?!" he yells. He's annoyed enough at the constant throb of his ribs, but now he's got his freak of a brother and his creepy ass angel staring at him? Castiel carefully lowers himself next to what little space Dean has left in the backseat. Dean finally gets it and begrudgingly makes more space for Cas to relax a little too. Sam gets in the front seat and starts the engine.

"Be careful with her, Bigfoot." Dean grumbles at Sam. Last time Sam drove Baby, he ruined the stick shift because he has 'absolutely no finesse or tact at all and he obviously doesn't know how to operate a damn beauty like Baby.'

"You know what they say about big feet." Sam winks, grinning wide at Dean who simply snorts, and doesn't try to retort.

The road to the nearest motel is bumpy to say the least, and every time Sam drives over one –sometimes purposely faster than others, just for pay back – Dean blasphemes and Castiel releases a small gasp, like he hadn't expected to feel the pain. The angel looks at Dean, and Dean realizes something is seriously wrong with them; cold sweat is dripping down the back of his neck now, and Cas looks a hell of a lot paler than he did earlier. Dean's just about to remark on the fact when the angel's blue eyes roll back and his body topples over into Dean's lap. He wants to protest, he really does. But he's tired, so tired, and Cas is really not bothering him too much. His eyes close and he's pretty sure he falls asleep.

Sam looks into the rearview mirror only to notice Cas is strewn across Dean, while Dean himself is resting his head against the window. Sam cuts the engine and gets them both out of the car half unconscious with sleep. Dean shuffles to the motel room with Cas while Sam gets them checked in.

While Sam does expect to see his brother and his friend collapsed upon the beds, this is not what he sees. Castiel's trench coat has been abandoned upon one of the shitty chairs, right next to his tie and slacks with his shoes at the legs of the chair with the socks thrown on the floor. Sam observes that the bathroom door is open, "Dean?" He says cautiously, because god knows what he's caught his brother doing in the bathroom before and he's definitely not wishing for a repeat.

"Yeah, in here." Dean bellows, and Sam slowly walks up to the door and stands at the entry of the tiny, shabby bathroom.

Castiel is sitting on the lowered toilet seat, his shirt open, and Dean is rubbing a wet towel over Cas' face and neck. "He's got a fever." He explains softly. Dean's brow isn't furrowed in frustration anymore. His thoughts flicker to Jess for a brief moment, and how she had the exact same expression on her face years ago, when she was alive. Sam shakes himself out of that emotional state he's getting into because it's not healthy to dwell on the past anymore. It seems as if Dean's pushed aside his pain and is solely focusing on Castiel and getting him better. Sam remembers when Dean used to care for him when he was sick as a child, he had always been patient. Sam doesn't reply to Dean, and Castiel just releases soft sighs whenever Dean lowers the newly cold and wet towel back onto his body.

Sam leaves the room, leaving a note for Dean that he's gone to check for more cases. In reality he left because it felt much too intimate to stay and watch his brother interact with the angel, and he wonders how much longer they will both stay oblivious and naïve. He asks for directions to the town library and tries to find books on what might be happening to Dean's sigils in relation to angels.