A/N: AAKSNFNSNZM I sosososoosososossoosos sorry for the late update! Anime expo took a lot out of me. uwu; but yes, I will try to keep updating more quickly and stuff!

I'm not too fond of this chapter, but I hope you enjoy!

Castiel frowned at the little bottle in his hand. Six pills left. That would last him two days. He'd texted his doctor for a refill when he had enough for ten days, but he still had not received a text or call saying his prescription was ready to pick up. It didn't normally take this long... Honestly, the only reason why he was still on the pills was because he was too terrified to have surgery or take the radioactive iodine pill. He knew he would have to stop taking them and have something else done...

Warm arms slipped around his waist from behind.

"Something wrong, babe?" Dean rested his chin on Castiel's shoulder.

Castiel shook his head, pulling out his phone and typing.

'Not particularly. Well, sort of. My doctor hasn't gotten back to me about a refill.'

Dean frowned. "How long can you last once you're out?"

Castiel shrugged. 'I've never been out of medication before; my doctor always managed to get it to me in time.'

"You're not gonna /die/ or anything, right?" Dean's arms tightened around Castiel, drawing a silent chuckle out of him.

'No, I highly doubt it.' He turned around and leaned up, pressing a kiss to Dean's cheek.

"Good, 'cause I wouldn't know what the hell to do if you did." Dean suddenly scooped Castiel up, one hand supporting his back, the other behind his knees. "So, mister Prince! What shall we do today? I don't have to work 'till afternoon tomorrow, so we can screw around for a while.~"

Castiel tapped his chin, letting his head fall to Dean's shoulder. Then he lifted his phone, typing rapidly. 'Can we go somewhere quiet? I've been itching to paint something.'

"Of course!" Dean grinned widely. He hadn't gotten to see too much of Castiel's art, aside from the first drawing he had been given, which he kept pinned to his wall by his bed.

And so, within a few hours time, the two were sitting by a nearby lake. Castiel was in his own little world, completely lost in his painting.

Dean could not help but watch him; Castiel was always breathtaking, but something about the way he looked when he was so focused made it even harder for Dean to look away...

By the time Castiel broke free of his trance, night had fallen, and Dean had dozed off in the grass next to him.

It didn't take much to wake him, and soon, the two were on their way home. The walk home was silent, but comfortably so.

Upon arriving home, Dean dragged Castiel to the couch and wrapped a blanket around them, picking up the remote and turning on the TV.

'Dean, you're going to fall asleep soon anyway; we might as well go to bed.'

Dean lazily flapped his hand at Castiel's phone "Shush, Cas, I'm comfortable." He nuzzled Castiel's stomach.

With a silent sigh of defeat, Castiel relaxed, his hand running through Dean's hair. Just as he had predicted, they were fast asleep in moments...

The next day was rather uneventful; Castiel woke late, and spent most of the day cleaning up his apartment, making sure everything was squeaky clean. There was still no word from his doctor...

Castiel woke the day after, feeling tense and anxious. Since he had been diagnosed with hyperthyroidism, he had not once been without his medication. It made him nervous. At earlier stages of his illness, it probably wouldn't have been too much of an issue, but at the point he was at now...

Honestly, he was afraid to get out of bed. That is, until the warm scent of fresh pancakes wafted into his room.

Castiel climbed out of bed, stumbling tiredly over to the kitchen.

Dean turned at the sound of his footsteps, a bright smile on his face. "'Mornin', babe. Hungry?" He set a plate full of pancakes in the middle of the table.

Castiel nodded and sat down, waiting for Dean to join him before digging in.

By noon, Castiel was feeling considerably more tired than he normally was. He had planned to cook dinner for Dean, to have it waiting for him after work, but now, he wasn't sure if he would be able to...

But determination to please Dean overruled fatigue, and Castiel found himself in the kitchen, using the counter to hold himself upright as he cooked.

He began to feel a bit dizzy, and started to move towards the table, but he didn't quite make it there.

The floor was cold and hard, but it welcomed Castiel, tugging him into darkness.