"Your temperature rose four and a half degrees in three and a half hours."
Presumably. Crowley hadn't been monitoring either of their temperatures on an hour-by-hour basis, which was stupid, on his part. He hadn't thought of it until now. He was too busy trying to figure out why he was sick in the first place and feeling sorry for himself. Stupid. That was stupid.
He fell silent, then, quietly focusing on something other than the fact that he very much wanted to pass out. The disease was attacking a variety of people, humans, angels, demons -- no one was safe. Scientifically speaking, the fact that Crowley and Castiel were affected was impossible. Both of their host bodies were dead bags of flesh, as far as either of them were concerned, and they were powerful enough to fend off simple infection. And yet, here they were, just as sick as their mortal companions.
Something else must be at play. Something microscopes couldn't see.
" -- maybe this is a curse, a ritual of sorts," Crowley said absently to himself, voice faint, as he stared at his dog, which had reappeared with bottles of water carefully clenched in her teeth. "Targeting the people who deserve it."
no subject
Presumably. Crowley hadn't been monitoring either of their temperatures on an hour-by-hour basis, which was stupid, on his part. He hadn't thought of it until now. He was too busy trying to figure out why he was sick in the first place and feeling sorry for himself. Stupid. That was stupid.
He fell silent, then, quietly focusing on something other than the fact that he very much wanted to pass out. The disease was attacking a variety of people, humans, angels, demons -- no one was safe. Scientifically speaking, the fact that Crowley and Castiel were affected was impossible. Both of their host bodies were dead bags of flesh, as far as either of them were concerned, and they were powerful enough to fend off simple infection. And yet, here they were, just as sick as their mortal companions.
Something else must be at play. Something microscopes couldn't see.
" -- maybe this is a curse, a ritual of sorts," Crowley said absently to himself, voice faint, as he stared at his dog, which had reappeared with bottles of water carefully clenched in her teeth. "Targeting the people who deserve it."