Honey Apple Pie

Chapter Seventeen

Cas stared apprehensively at the little brown bottle sitting on his kitchen counter, with his cheek resting on his hand.

Gracie was sitting next to it, flicking her tail impatiently. When Cas still didn't move, she batted the bottle with her paw, knocking it to the ground.

Cas sighed. 'I feel the same,' he said, picking it up. It rattled slightly, and he put it down while he fed Gracie.

It had been easy enough to have Alfie watch the bakery while he went for his appointment, but forcing himself to describe his symptoms to the doctor was another story. He had finally been prescribed his medication, but at a lower dosage than before, in an attempt to mitigate the severity of the side effects he'd had last time. He wanted to call Charlie, but he'd left his phone in the bakery again and couldn't remember how to get Skype to work on his laptop.

'Screw it,' he muttered. He popped the cap off and took one of the tiny pills with a glass of water. He fed the fish and rearranged his cabinet of recipe books twice before he finally resigned himself to attempting to sleep. Dean had an early morning the next day, meaning a late-night drive wasn't an option, so Cas put on the playlist he had used before and went to sleep with that on instead. It wasn't the worst night he'd ever had, but he was looking forward to it getting better.

The medication wasn't too bad at first, but after a few days of taking it regularly, the side effects hit him hard. It started with a mild nausea, but by the next Saturday, when he was supposed to be meeting Dean, he was exhausted, ill, and a little dizzy. He thought about making an effort, but only managed to put on one of his nicer sweaters, and couldn't even get all the flour out of his hair.

Dean took one look at him when he opened the door and grimaced. {You started your medication?}

Cas nodded and leaned against the door frame.

{You're not hungry at all, are you?}

{No}

{Have you eaten anything?}

{No} He could hardly even face being in the bakery that morning, let alone actually eat something.

{Why don't I come in and make you something, and you just lie down and take it easy?}

Cas shook his head. {I want to go out with you}

Dean looked around thoughtfully. {Come back to my place. We can watch a movie and relax}

{That sounds nice}

{After you}

Cas stepped out of the door, but remembered he hadn't taken his pill yet, so he grabbed the bottle and went out to the car.

Dean tried to drive as slowly as possible, but it didn't help with Cas's nausea. He wound down the windows and Cas breathed in the fresh air.

Sam and Dean's place was a lot larger than his own. Spread across two floors instead of just one, the kitchen and living room were open plan like his, and he assumed the bedrooms were upstairs.

The main features of the living room where the decent-sized flat-screen TV, and the large leather couch that was draped in different sorts of blankets and, with a couple of squashy cushions sitting on it.

Dean sat Cas on it. {How about this; I'll make dinner for me, and if you feel like you want any of it, you can take some off my plate, okay?}

Cas made a face.

{You have to eat something. Let's not have a repeat of you passing out}

Cas sighed. {I'll try}