Daddy's Little Soldier (SPN) - Dean

[MissBayliss]

Plot: It opens at the end of a hunt. Dean is sick. He's not hiding it, he's actually being kind of a bitch about it. Sam is glad to have some time off... Things don't happen how the boys want it to and when they're pulled into another hunt, with one of Dad's old contacts, and a fugly that likes eating people, Dean could get into serious trouble. What kind of trouble? Well you'll have to read to find out...

Notes: I wanted to write a story set in season 1, with a missing papa Winchester and a nightmare riddled Sam. Also, this time I didn't want Dean to be hiding his sickness, or trying to pretend everything was okay, I wanted to do a slightly whining, annoying, and a little bit gross, Dean Winchester. Staying as true to the characters as I can. It is a work in progress, although a lot is already done...

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, the situation is. Done for fun, don't sue me.

Here's a snippet to start. Hope you enjoy it.

***

Dean fumbled with the handle of the shovel again.

Het'schu! He sniffled against his sleeve.

"You bring any tissues?"

Sam sighed and pulled out one from his little travel pack.

Dean shoved it against his face.

Hhhuh-SKCHuu!

"Urgh," he groaned after rocketing snot out of his nasal passage into the tissue.

"Thanks," he said, holding the tissue out to Sam.

"Dude. I'm not touching that."

"Princess," he groaned, and shoved the sodden material into his pocket.

A few seconds passed and Dean sniffed thickly, dragging his sleeve under his nose.

"God," he croaked, his voice scratchy and thick.

Sam took a deep breath, "Dean, you're sick. Go wait in the car. Let me finish here."

Dean stared at him for a moment, "I'm fine, Sammy," he carried on digging.

"It's Sam, alright?"

"Whatever," he groaned, before whipping his head into his shoulder and sneezing three times in a row.

"I get it, dude. It's freezing out here. You feel like shit. I got this, just go wait in the car."

He sniffled again. "God, fine," he climbed out of the hole and flopped on the ground. Stomach to the sky, legs still hanging into the grave.

"Just gonna rest here a while."

Sam sighed loudly.

Dean was still lying on his back on the wet grass when Sam finally cracked through the coffin lid. He jumped out and started pouring gas on the body.

"Dean, you wanna move away? I'm about to light this guy up."

Dean blinked slowly up at Sam and then struggled to his feet.

"You are so graceful," Sam grinned.

"Shut up and hurry up so we can go."

Sam clenched his teeth together. God, Dean was annoying when he was sick.

Sam threw the match in and watched the bones of John Sicklan turn to ash. He was so glad this case was over.

"Let me drive, Dean."

Dean laughed, which turned to coughing. He straightened and looked at Sam. "No freakin way."

[Always-a-Ginger]

Fantastic start. I love how Sam is taking everything in stride. Looking forward to more

[Sawyer]

Oh, so good! I really enjoy it when they aren't really really invested in hiding an illness. I know it's a common trope (and it's popular for a reason!) but something about the honesty and intimacy of "yeah, I feel like shit but I can still work through it" just really gets me. It seems very casual and realistic. Can't wait to see more!

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

This was a magnificent start! Sam and Dean are both written in great character.

Can't wait to read more and see what rises up.

[Nola]

This is great! I quite enjoy a grumpy Dean! And I also love when Sam has to be the one to take the brunt of a case.

[MissBayliss]

(Forgot to mention, stories gonna be from Sam's POV only, which is something I don't usually do )

***

Sam came out of the shower to find Dean lying on top of the covers, leather jacket draped over his shoulder. He shrugged. It wasn't strange or unusual. Dean often didn't sleep under the covers. It meant he'd fallen asleep pretty quickly, and that was probably a good thing. At least he'd taken his shoes off.

Sam was exhausted, and it wasn't long before he was curled up in his own bed, sleeping soundly.

Jess.

"Why, Sam?"

Fire.

"Sam."

"Sam!"

Sam sat bolt upright in his bed, a few beads of sweat across his forehead. His heart was pounding and he was breathing heavily.

"Sam..."

The small, husky voice that had woken him came from the bed beside him.

"Dean? Dean!" He said, leaping out of bed to kneel in front of his brother. Dean was covered in sweat and was shivering uncontrollably.

"Bathroom... now," Dean whispered, through chattering teeth.

Sam threw the leather jacket off his brother and helped him to his feet, noticing his clothes were completely soaked through.

He slowed down Dean's fall, making sure he didn't shatter his knee caps on the bathroom floor as he dropped in front of the toilet, hurling up everything he ate that day, and the day before that. Hell, things he ate weeks ago.

Sam sat on the edge of the bath and rubbed Dean's back up and down.

"It's alright. I got you. You're alright..."

He helped Dean struggle out of his sweat soaked clothes and put him back to bed in his boxers.

"It's hot, Sammy," he whined, kicking the sheet off him.

"Yeah, I know," Sam wrinkled his brow, "Hang on."

Sam returned from the bathroom with two cold wash cloths. He lay one across Dean's forehead and one on his chest.

"Dean, you alright?"

He moaned, "I'm super."

Sam smiled at that, "Do we have any Tylenol?"

Dean nodded. He was slipping out of consciousness. Sam went and got the first aid kit from the trunk and came back, already fishing out the painkillers for Dean.

"Dean, hey," he tapped his too hot cheek and Dean blinked a few times, "You gotta take this, then you can sleep."

***

Sam woke to a rattling cough.

"Sam, get up."

Dean sat at the small table, laptop open in front of him. "We got a job, let's go."

"What? We just finished a job. We need to take a few days here."

"I know what you're going to say, so you can just stop. Dad sent us coordinates."

Sam bit his lip and shook his head. "That son of a bitch..."

"Dad's given us an order..."

"Dad doesn't know you're sick."

"People's lives are at stake, Sam. This is our job, and Dad's..."

"Dad can kiss my ass."

"Sam," Dean growled, coughing against his arm, it was that awful rattling cough again. "Pack your stuff. We're going."

Sam sighed.

"Dude, after last night..."

"I feel better, okay. I barely even have a fever."

"What do we know about the case?"

"Not much. Dad gave me a contact to call when we get there. Phil Landers, he's a friend of dad's. I've worked with him a few times over the last couple of years. We can trust him. He'll help."

Sam took in Dean's appearance. In all fairness he did look better than last night, but last night he was green. His nose was red raw from rubbing it and blowing it on the cheap roll of motel toilet paper he had sitting next to him on the table.

"We're going to have to get you some tissues then... with lotion."

"Princess."

"Rudolph."

"Hey! Leave me alone, I'm sick,” Het'schoo! He scraped another piece of toilet paper across his glistening nose.

"I don't doubt that... you want to stop for breakfast?"

Dean swallowed and lightened a shade, "I'll pass. You good to drive?"

Sam tipped back on his heels. "Wow, you must be feeling sick."

"Shut up," he whined, "I didn't sleep last night... it's two states over, might be able to get a couple of hours."

"Dean... Are you sure about this? Maybe we should call dad, tell him you're not up to it."

"Yeah, I'm gonna ask dad for a sick day," he sniped, "It doesn't matter how I feel. This is what we do. We're going. End of story."

Sam pursed his lips.

Dean wordlessly got up and shut himself in the bathroom, taking his toilet paper with him. Sam sighed and looked around. Dean was sneezing and expelling his snot in the bathroom.

"Alright then."

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

Heehee. Heeheeheehee! Bitchy sick Dean, he's giving me shivers.

[Masked.Maiden]

Omg this is great! Haven't come across a whiny sick!Dean fic in like forever.

[MissBayliss]

***

"Dean, wake up. We're 15 minutes outside of town."

Dean sat up and cleared his throat. "I'm up."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Phil.

"Hey, Phil. It's Dean... Ah, you know me. Workin’ hard. Got my baby brother back in the passenger seat with me."

Sam scoffed. Dean punched him.

"Nah, I'm alright. Had a rough couple of days is all. On the upswing. Yeah, yeah, alright.

We're 15 minutes out of town, what's your eta?

Alright, man. Wait, let me get a pen. Yep. Yep. Alright, we'll start there. Call you later."

Dean's breath was hitching as he ended the call.

Heh'stchew! Huh'tchu!

Sam cringed as Dean sniffled next to him. He didn't mean to seem uncaring, but they didn't have to be doing this. Dean was sick, and irritable, understandably, and it wasn't that he didn't feel sympathetic, but he saw it one of two ways. Dean could give up the hunt, lie in bed, and whinge and complain all he wanted. Or he could do the job, feeling like shit, because of his blind obedience, and he could keep his mouth shut about it. It was on him. He was a grown man.

Dean blew his nose noisily, moaned and leaned back against the seat. "Man, my head's pounding. We got Tylenol handy?"

Sam shook his head in irritation, "In the back seat."

Dean glanced over his shoulder, "Urgh, too far."

Sam huffed.

"Dude, what the heck is your problem?"

"What's my problem!? You know what, it doesn't matter."

"No, Sammy, by all means get it out."

Sam stiffened at the nickname, "Why would I waste my breath?"

"If this is about dad..."

"I don't understand how you can just trust him like this! Doesn't it make you angry?"

"I trust him because he's been by my side for the last 4 years while you were off being Joe college!"

Sam glanced at him, mouth hanging open, "Dean..."

"He's the one who had my back, okay? The only one. So, yeah I trust him," Dean turned to look out the window.

Sam softened, his eyes becoming wet, "This is different, Dean. You're sick this time, and if you get any worse..."

"I won't get worse... besides he didn't pick up the phone when I had 3 weeks to live, so..."

Sam's stomach knotted in a ball. He wanted to punch the steering wheel, but he settled for gripping so hard he thought he'd leave handprints. Glancing at Dean, who was still looking out the window, he could see tears in his pink eyes. His brother had been handed a death sentence and their father wasn't there. Didn't even call them back. No. Just sends coordinates two months later. Sending them on another job, another hunt that might kill them. Lucky Sam hadn't given up on him, because he would have just lay there till his heart gave out. Game over.

"I think there's some asprin in the glove compartment," Sam offered.

Dean coughed hard against his fist, "Thanks, Sammy... sorry, Sam."

"No, it's... okay."

And it really was okay.

***

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

"He's the one who had my back, okay? The only one. So, yeah I trust him," Dean turned to look out the window.

Sam softened, his eyes becoming wet, "This is different, Dean. You're sick this time, and if you get any worse..."

"I won't get worse... besides he didn't pick up the phone when I had 3 weeks to live, so..."

Sam's stomach knotted in a ball. He wanted to punch the steering wheel, but he settled for gripping so hard he thought he'd leave handprints.

Oh Damn! I could actually feel that! My chest just swelled with feels. :'(

This story seriously has me hooked! Don't stop!

[MissBayliss]

***

"Donna Ryan. Husband went missing 2 days ago... "

"Is that it?"

Dean nodded.

"How is this our kind of case then?"

"Because dad said it is. Look, Phil said we should start there. Talk to this Donna lady. See if anything supernatural was going on before her husband's disappearance. He's going to meet us in the morning, he just finished a job."

Dean's voice was grating, tired. Sam could see it was hurting him but he said nothing.

"Well, we should find a motel. Suit up."

"Suits? Seriously, dude," Dean complained.

"Unless you know a US Marshall that wears torn up jeans and a leather jacket."

"Tonnes," Dean whispered.

Sam raised an eyebrow and proceeded towards the closest motel.

***

Knock, knock.

"Mrs Ryan," he called, "US Marshalls. Can you come to the door?"

...

Knock, knock, knock.

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance and pulled their guns out of their waistband. Crouching down and beginning a perimeter check of the house.

Dean put his finger to his lips as they approached the glass sliding door at the back of the house, completely shattered.

The glass crunched under their boots as they snuck inside. Dean gestured for Sam to go one way and they sweeped the house. They stopped side by side in front of the double doors leading into what they assumed was the bedroom. Claw marks ran down the front of it.

Dean put his hand on the door knob, Sam followed his lead, putting his hand on the other. Guns raised, they opened the doors.

"Uh, god," Sam cringed.

Donna Ryan lay on the bed, her chest ripped open, organs spilling onto the once white comforter.

Sam had his hand on his mouth and took a step closer to look at her.

He started to say something when he looked behind him and saw Dean. All colour had drained from his face and he looked like he was about to pass out, throw up, or both.

"Dean, hey!" He said, grabbing his arm and leading him out to sit on the lounge.

"Keep your head down," he said, gently nudging Dean's head down to his knees.

Dean put his face in his hands.

"I just... I didn't need that," he groaned, swallowing slowly and exhaling through his mouth.

"I'm gonna check it out. You okay?"

"Peachy."

Sam inspected the body.

"We should call it in," Sam said, coming back out to the lounge room, tucking his gun away.

Dean shook his head, "Let's get outta here."

"Dean..."

"Wipe it down, let's go," he said, still in the same position, waiting for Sam to get rid of their prints.

Sam did as he was told and then stood beside Dean for a moment.

"You alright, man? It's not gonna look good if you puke at the crime scene..."

"Urghh, shut up," he groaned, dragging himself to his feet.

Sam watched to see if he needed steadying, but he seemed to be okay. Dean stepped ahead of him, pulling his handkerchief out of his back pocket and sniffling against it.

Dean slumped into the passenger seat.

"Alright so, what now?" Sam asked, taking position behind the wheel.

"Just... just give me a second," Dean said, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Do you wanna call Phil?"

Dean opened his eyes and stared at the dash board, "Yeah... yeah."

"Phil, it's Dean. Look Donna's not gonna be able help us..."

Dean paused way too long, Sam looked over and saw his pale brother wrestling with a sneeze.

"H-hold on," Dean held the phone out and sneezed into his elbow.

Heh'stchew! Huh'tchu! Hehchu!

He didn't even notice when Sam took the phone from his hand, Phil demanding questions down the line.

Dean struggled for the handkerchief in his back pocket.

"Phil, it's Sam."

"What in the hell's going on over there?"

"Uh, we found Donna's body. Ripped open..."

Hetshuu! Huh'tchu!

"Dammit... what about Dean? He doesn't sound too good."

"He'll be alright. He's hunted worse. Got any idea what this thing is?"

Dean continued to sneeze, opening his door and walking round to the back of the impala, giving Sam some privacy on the phone.

"Not sure, Sam. Something that likes eatin' folk. I'll check out the body once they've got it in the morgue. You guys have been drivin' all morning, why don't you get some lunch, rest a while. I'll be there soon."

"Yeah... yeah, okay."

The car rocked as Dean leaned on the back, stifling more sneezes, each one moving the car a little.

"And, Sam... make sure that brother of yours doesn't kill himself."

Sam laughed, "You got it."

"Dean, you good?"

"Fr-friggen nose, m-man. Het'schoo! Huh'ngxt! Ow..."

"Come on, let's go. We'll get some cold meds."

"No deal, man. That stuff's nasty."

"Dude, no complaints. Get in the car."

"... who died and made you boss?"

Sam curled his lip, “Shut up.”

Dean shrugged but did what he was told anyway.

By the time they made it to the drug store Dean was snoring loudly in the passenger seat, head bent at an angle that couldn’t have been comfortable. Sam didn’t bother waking him up and went in and got whatever he thought Dean would need. It was about time they restocked the first aid kit anyway.

On the ride back to the motel Dean coughed himself awake. He looked kind of startled like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

“Come on, grandma. I’m not gonna let you drive my car if you’re gonna drive her like a girl,” Dean moaned.

Sam’s mouth gaped open. Gee, Dean must have felt awesome to divert to aggressive bitch mode straight away. Sam knew what he was doing, he was embarrassed with himself so he was deflecting.

“I’m going the speed limit, Dean.”

Dean glanced down and saw the bag on the seat next to him.

“We already stop at the drug store?”

“Yeah, you were sleeping...”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure I could hear you snoring from the inside the shop.”

“As if, princess. I don’t snore,” Dean whined, as he stifled another cough against his sleeve.

***

“So, Phil thinks he’ll get here tonight. Do you want lunch? How’s your stomach?”

Dean rolled his eyes, then ghosted a hand across his belly, “Yeah... Still not that hungry...”

“Well, I still gotta eat, dude.”

Dean nodded, then paused for a moment.

Sam pulled a tissue from the box next to him and held it out to Dean.

He snatched it quickly.

Heh’STKUu!

“That sounded like it hurt,” Sam laughed.

“It did,” Dean whinged, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll just grab take out. Eat at the motel.”

“What, why?”

“Cause you need a nap...”

“Eat me.”

“And bless you.”

“Wha - het’SCHXT!”

***

TBC...

[Always-a-Ginger]

This is so good. I kind of like Dean owning that he feels awful and working through it. I think most people have done that and it makes him very accessible. I also love Sam just going with it like he is waiting for the time Dean realizes he just can't push any further.

Really love this.

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

This story makes me very very happy

“I’ll just grab take out. Eat at the motel.”

“What, why?”

“Cause you need a nap...”

“Eat me.”

“And bless you.”

“Wha - het’SCHXT!”

This...this just made me giggle endlessly.

[Sawyer]

This story makes me very very happy

“I’ll just grab take out. Eat at the motel.”

“What, why?”

“Cause you need a nap...”

“Eat me.”

“And bless you.”

“Wha - het’SCHXT!”

This...this just made me giggle endlessly.

Me too! I loooove the way you write Dean.

[MissBayliss]

***

Sam’s empty salad container sat next to his open laptop, and dad’s journal. He’d been researching for an hour. Dean hadn’t eaten since midday yesterday and he wasn’t a baby. He could look after himself, Sam shouldn’t have to force feed him.

He looked up from his computer and frowned at a snoring Dean spread out on the motel bed. He was lying on his back and it was clear he couldn’t breathe very well. The pills he took were heavy on the codeine and he’d passed out pretty quickly.

“Dean,” Sam tested, at a normal volume. He didn’t like the sound of his breathing.

Nothing.

“Hey! Dean,” he called, again.

He sighed and stood up, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of his brothers bed.

“Come on, man, wake up,” a wave of panic came over him when he touched his brother’s shoulder and realised how warm he was. It wasn’t as bad as last night, but he definitely had a fever.

Dean snorted as he woke, and curled onto his side, away from Sam.

“Urrrgh,” he groaned, “Why’d you wake me up?”

His voice was so congested, way worse than it had been.

“You sounded like you couldn’t breathe, man. You alright?”

“Are you a doctor?”

“What? No, dude.”

“Then why’re you askin’?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind...” he crumpled in on himself.

Huh’SCHuu!

“Ah,” he arched his head back, his eyes squeezed shut, “Uh, God...”

Sam got up and went back over to his table, he’d annoyed Dean enough already, clearly.

Dean shuffled up so he was resting against the headboard. He blinked rapidly and pressed the heel of his hand against the middle of his forehead.

“What you got?” Dean’s doughy voice came from behind a wad of tissues.

“Well, it might be unrelated but the local school got hit with a flu bug a week ago and 6 kids died, but an 88 year old woman who also got it, had 3 days bed rest and was fine...”

“So?”

“So, that’s a little unusual. Also, a 26 year old girl’s on life support because a homeless man beat her bloody and stole her car. Police arrested him, said the only reason he did it was because he was jealous.”

“Hm, but nothing on Mrs Inside-out?”

“No, I mean, her and her husband took a trip to Africa last month. Two days ago husband’s gone and now Donna...” Sam shrugged.

Dean swung his legs round and sat up, “So, where’s Mr Ryan?”

“Exactly.”

Dean bent down to put his boots on. He didn’t get very far before he snapped back upright, hand pressing into his head.

“Ah, what the...” he growled.

“What was that?”

“Dunno,” he shook his head carefully, “Feel like my head’s gonna explode.”

“Let me see,” Sam stood up and crouched in front of Dean.

“What’re you gonna do? Look up my nose?”

Sam sneered, “No, man, just hold still.”

Sam placed his thumbs either side of Dean’s nose and pressed against his cheekbones.

“Ah, son of a bitch,” Dean leaned back, defensively swatting Sam’s hands away.

“Yeah, you got a sinus infection,” Sam stood up, looking somewhat sympathetic to his moaning brother.

“Is that your professional opinion, geek boy?”

“That’s any normal persons opinion, Dean. You need antibiotics or it’ll get worse.”

“Alright, fine. Antibiotics, then let’s find this dude.”

Hut’ngxt!

He hunched forward, catching the sneeze with two hands, he sniffled and whimpered.

“Ow...”

Sam laughed, because, let’s face it, it was a little bit cute.

***

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

*melts into a puddle of happy joy*

Dean Dean Dean~ *sings*

[MissBayliss]

Note: There's not as much sneezing in this part. The story went more hurt/comfort. I was really trying to focus on the case because I know my stories tend to lack in that department so I wanted to actually make a good case fic. The creature is a real mythical creature, and I've followed the lore pretty closely (bending it to my liking every so often ) I hope you enjoy it, there is more to come, and I will get back to the lighter side once the case is done. Promise.

***

They started at the doctor’s. Dean moaned the whole time. About everything. The uncomfortable chairs, the ugly nurses, the mucus that was trying to “drown him alive”, and the case. Sam agreed that it was strange, and he didn’t know how all these things were connected but they had to be, he just felt it.

“Did I mention Donna worked at the school?”

Dean’s eyebrow quirked.

“Called in sick the last 3 days before we found her...”

“That’s something...”

“Missing person’s report says Donna’s husband, Mark, was last seen hiking in the forest outside of town.”

“Far?” Dean sniffed, winced.

“20 minute drive, but the walking track takes hours...”

“Of course it does,” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.

Sam and Dean left the chemist, white paper bag full of Dean’s courses of antibiotics. Both their heads pricked up when they heard sirens. Police... And ambulance.

“Give me the keys,” Dean held his hand out. Sam did what he was told.

***

“Sorry, this is a crime scene-”

“US Marshals, what happened here?” Dean said, flipping open his badge. He rubbed at the sweat beading on his forehead. Sam frowned.

“Oh, sorry, Marshals,” the young officer pulled up the crime scene tape so the boys could duck under.

Dean came back up, clutching his head, scrunching his eyes shut.

“Oh, god...”

“You alright?” The confused officer asked.

“He’s fine. You were telling us what happened?”

“Ah, yes... It looks like some kind of animal attack.”

“Animal attack? What kind of animal?”

“Couldn’t tell ya, boss. But whatever it was... It was big.”

Sam’s brows crinkled.

“See for yourself, marshals,” the officer, gestured for them to go in.

The coroner wasn’t there yet, just another two police inside and the paramedics packing up.

“Dean...” Sam turned, putting a hand on his brothers chest, “You wanna wait out here? It could be pretty...”

“Nah, I’m good,” Dean swallowed, exhaled out his mouth, rubbed his nose and squared his shoulders.

***

Sam patted Dean’s back as he choked and heaved in the next door neighbours garden.

“I told you not to go in there...”

“Shut up!” Dean continued to retch in the flower bed.

“That’s two now...” Sam said, thinking out loud, “What the hell’s going on in this town?”

Dean let out a shuddering breath and straightened, “Beats me, but we are killing this evil son of a bitch, cause I am not looking at another body like that...” Dean gagged, pressed his fist against his mouth, “I’m good. I’m done. I’m good.”

Sam shook his head, grabbing Dean around the bicep and walking back to the car. Dean may not have needed help, but he didn’t knock it back.

“Where to?” Sam said, sitting once again in the drivers seat.

“Let’s get out to that hiking track. See if we can’t find Mr Ryan...”

“You sure you wanna do that?”

“People are dying, Sam. If that flu thing’s connected, kids are dying. We can’t sit on our thumbs on this one.”

Sam nodded, “Alright.”

***

The 20 minute drive saw Dean sleeping again. Head tilted all the way back, snoring so loud that Sam would have preferred to listen to Metallica at full volume.

They got on the track while the sun was still up but they knew they’d be there into the night. Sam called Phil and told him what they were doing. He also suggested numerous times to wait there for Phil alone, but Dean Stubborn Winchester wasn’t having any of that. Still, he was miserable, and letting the entire world know it.

“Why is it so friggen cold out here?”

They’d been walking the track for about and hour and a half.

“It’s not cold, Dean. You have a fever. I told you to stay at the motel.”

“Yeah, then who’d watch your gigantic sasquatch ass?”

Sam bit his tongue, “Phil will be here soon, you can go back to the motel.”

“Nah, I’m- I’m good...” het’schew! “Son of a bitch.”

Deep breaths, count to ten...

“How long does it take antibiotics to work?”

“Longer than an hour,” Sam huffed.

“Someone’s touchy...”

Sam turned to face his brother. His anger dissipated when he saw the milky white pallor of Dean’s skin. His sinuses where visibly swollen. Along with the fever spots on his cheeks and the sheen of sweat across his forehead, it made him a picture alright. Not to mention his reddened nose. Sam brow crinkled into a sympathetic look.

“Take a picture, Sam... Alright! I get it. I look like shit. I feel like shit. I’m constantly feeling mucus run down the back of my throat, my head is pounding, my eyes feel like they’re gonna pop out of their sockets, and my teeth feel like they’re vibrating! I’m trudging around this tick infested forest, behind your massive ass, and the damn doctor has the nerve to call my sinuses cute! Who says that!?”

Sam tried not to smile, “Acute, Dean.”

Dean paused, “... what?”

“Acute sinusitis... Never mind.”

Dean doubled over in a coughing fit, spitting mucus into the leaf litter. “Your fever’s spiking. Let’s get outta here.”

The sun was starting to go down and the forest was coming more alive.

“Thought you said Phil was gonna meet us out here.”

“I’ll give him a call. Tell him we had to get the baby back to bed.”

“You know I’ll kick your ass?”

“I know you’ll try...”

“Ah!” Dean winced as he slapped an insect away from his neck, “Son of a bitch bit me...”

Sam watched as Dean’s eyes rolled back and his body went limp. He caught him before he hit the ground.

“Dean!” he called, tapping his cheek, “What happened, man? You alright?”

“Bit my neck, Sammy... Somethin’s not right...”

“Sam! Dean!”

Thank God.

“Phil!? Over here!”

Phil came into view and his eyes widened at Dean, lying there in Sam’s arms. His eyes rolling around in his head.

“What happened?”

“Something bit him on the neck and he just keeled over. Help me get him back to the car.”

***

It was a huge struggle to get Dean back to the car. He couldn’t walk more than a few steps, before crumpling forward. He was even whiter than before, his eyes going red and bloodshot, framed with dark bruises.

“That’s damn quick for a fever to spike.”

“Nah, he had that already.”

“Seriously?”

Sam nodded grimly, feeling like a terrible brother all of a sudden.

“We should take him to the hospital,” Sam said, putting Dean in the back seat.

“No,” Dean’s eyes fluttered open, “I can feel it, Sam. It’s supernatural. They can’t help me...” he leaned forward and coughed.

“Easy, Dean... It’s gonna be okay...”

Sam looked up at Phil.

“I guess we take him back to the motel and figure this thing out,” Phil said.

***

Phil sat flipping through Sam's notes on the case, all the weird shit that was going on in the town.

Sam was wiping Dean's face with a cold wash cloth. He'd been thrashing around, muttering to himself, and the bite on his neck had swollen to the size of a ping pong ball. He blinked up at him like he was coming into a more lucid moment.

"They were in Africa? Jesus, Sam, why didn't you say that before?"

"I didn't think it was important," Sam stood up, “Why? What is it?”

"Son of a bitch, we're dealing with an Adze."

"A what now?" Dean's gravelly voice made Sam turn to him. He was struggling to sit up against the headboard.

"It's an African vampire. They feed on people's insides. That's only when they're in human form. Otherwise they're like a little bug. They bite ya, poison ya, then come back in a couple of days to finish the job. It makes sense, boys. Their presence effects everything around them, making the young die and the old live, the poor envy the rich... they must have brought it back with them in their luggage. Now the things hungry..."

Dean coughed, "How..." he panted.

"How do we kill it?" Sam took over. Sitting down on his brother's bed.

"You can't, as far as I know... but I've never come across one before."

"What's happening to me?" Dean rasped.

"You're marked, Dean. It's coming back for ya..."

"Great," he huffed.

Dean grabbed a tissue from the box, blowing his nose into it.

"How long do I have?"

"Dean..." Sam's wide eyes made Dean glance at the tissue in his hand. Not snot, as he expected, but blood. He felt it trickle out of his nose again.

"Shit,” he sighed, before his head tipped back, eyes rolling back in his head again.

“Dean! Dean, come on, man,” Sam wiped his face with the wash cloth again, and pressed a tissue against his nose that was still steadily bleeding. Dean opened his eyes. “Look at me, brother, it’s okay. We’re gonna get this thing, okay?”

Dean’s face was full of fear, it crushed Sam to see him that way.

“Dean... You’re gonna be okay.”

Dean nodded gently, then let his eyes slip closed.

“Dammit, Sam,” Phil sighed, standing by the table, watching this happen.

“How long does he have?”

“It won’t let him die... It’ll be back before then. 48 hours, tops.”

Sam nodded, blinked back the tears, “Okay... Okay, good.”

“S’mmy...”

“Yeah, Dean.”

“Use me...”

“What?”

“You gotta,” he coughed, curled onto his side, “You gotta use me as bait. It’s the only way you’ll know where it is.”

“Dean...”

“No, Sam... We do this my way, okay? ‘M the eldest...”

Sam smiled, patted Dean’s shoulder, “Fine," he turned to look at Phil, “Let’s figure out how to kill this son of a bitch.”

***

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

DEEEAAANNNNNN!!!!!!

[LeadaAlexys52]

Holy mother of....sooo amazing! Need more right now! Need to know what's going to happen...Dean!!!!

[MissBayliss]

***

In the moments of lucidity, which were getting fewer and far between, Dean wanted to be sitting up in his bed, engaged in what was going on. But Sam couldn’t tell what symptoms the poison was causing, aside from the nasty virus and sinus infection.

His fever was rocketing higher, which he could only assume was the poison, although the infection gave it a pretty good head start. His skin was almost grey in colour, and he had dark bruising around his eyes. The blue veins on his temples stood out, and his eyes were red and weepy. Nose bleeds were the poison, but since the last one he hadn’t had another, and it just seemed to be the sinus infection causing him the facial pain and sneezing fits.

Hut’schu! Het’skew! Huh’schoo!

“You alright, dude?”

“Quit... Het’shew!... askin’ me... Huh’chu!... if I’m a-alright... Chu! Schuu! *sniff*” Dean blew his nose and grimaced, “God, I missed this feeling. Having my ass on the line... again.” Sam’s eyes took on a distinct puppy dog quality. “Phil, tell me you got something,” Dean pleaded, coughing into a pile of tissues.

“Workin’ on it.”

Phil wasn’t old. He wasn’t as old as a lot of their dad’s other contacts. He seemed to only be about mid thirties, dark blonde hair shoved under a trucker cap, tan skin, wrinkled with a few lines, such is the life of a hunter. His blue eyes told stories, though. And Sam could tell by looking that he’d been through a lot.

“I’ve never known anyone thats hunted one of these, I mean, these are Africa only. Ain’t really my jurisdiction.”

“Well, we better find something,” Dean coughed again.

“Yeah, thanks, Dean. Not really helping,” Sam huffed.

No witty response, no come back at all. That was odd.

Sam looked away from his computer and over at Dean. Dean was looking behind his brother in an ominous way. His eyes full of tears and... relief. His mouth was hanging open. Sam turned but nothing was behind him, Dean wasn’t looking at anything.

“Dean, you okay, man?” The panic in Sam’s voice making Phil turn to Dean too.

“Sammy...” he cried, “She’s so beautiful...”

Sam and Phil exchanged a look.

“There’s no one there, Dean.”

“It’s mom, don’t you see her?”

Shit.

“Dean, no...”

“She’s okay, Sammy. She says it’s gonna be okay,” he sighed, a tear running down his cheek.

Sam got up and went to his brother’s side, sitting just at his hip.

“Just take it easy, Dean,” he supported his brother’s head, while he pulled out one of the pillows from under him, reclining him more in the bed. Dean’s dewy eyes were now fixed on Sam’s, bright green, fevered eyes. “Holy shit, your burning up...”

“No,” Dean clutched at Sam’s wrist, “Mom says it’s gonna be okay.”

The dopey smile on his brother’s face made Sam bite back the tears, “I know, Dean...” he cleared his throat, “I believe her.”

Dean let his eyes slip shut, smile still on his face. Sam dipped the wash cloth in the bucket of ice water and sponged it across his brothers face. It was getting harder and harder to watch.

Sam looked back at Phil’s expression of concern, and cleared his throat again.

“Keep looking.”

***

“Oh my God,” Sam uttered, staring at his computer screen.

“What?” Phil peered over his laptop to look at Sam.

“I don’t know why we didn’t see it before. The Adze likes the blood of children best... It sucks blood in it’s insect form and infects them with a disease. Dean’s right. It’s been killing these kids,” He rubbed a hand across his brow.

Phil nodded, “I know...”

“What do we do? I can figure out how to trap the thing but how do we kill it? In human form they’re supposed to he huge...”

“I dunno, Sam... We could try cutting the thing’s head off?”

Sam cocked his head, thinking for a moment, “I’m cool with that idea.”

“So... Coconut water and palm oil...” Phil stated, hands up in an extravagant shrug.

“That’s what we’ll use to lure it here. It’s already after Dean anyway so it should just speed up the process.”

Phil nodded, “We’ll hide and wait for it... See how good it moves without a head,” he grinned.

“Once it’s dead... Dean’ll get better, right?”

Phil nodded, “Yeah... It’s a spirit, essentially, so killing it should stop the disease, and cure those other kids too.”

***

Dean had been seizing on and off for the past hour. Blood stained around his nose and mouth, as he’d been coughing it up. Sam kept bags of ice tucked around him to keep his temperature from sky rocketing any further, but it was doing little to help. He’d long ago lost his sense of what was real, and he was more out of it than he was in.

Sam sighed, wiped the blood away from his brother’s nose, “I won’t let you die, Dean...”

Phil came through the door, bags in hand full of coconut water and palm oil.

“Gee, I got some weird looks at the supermarket,” he laughed, then looked at Sam, “How is he?”

“Worse.”

“Let’s get to it then.”

Phil and Sam filled glasses and bowls with the water and oil that would draw in the Adze, and placed them around the motel room, even outside on the windowsill and beside the door. Dean was beyond protesting when Sam opened up his shirt and smeared oil all over his warm skin.

“S’m...”

Sam stopped and looked at his brother.

“Where’s m’ knife?” he asked, choking on a little bit of blood.

Sam reached into the duffle and pulled out Dean’s huge hunting knife that he usually kept under his pillow. He placed it in Dean’s hand and saw Dean grip tightly around the handle.

“Dean... If you seize you’ll...”

“S’mmy, listen... You wait until it’s over me...”

“No...”

“Sam... Sam, you let it get to me. I’ll stab it, catch it off guard. Then you and Phil come in guns blazin’. Rip it apart, Sam... We can’t take any chances.”

Sam nodded grimly at his brother. He knew Dean well enough to know he could handle this. He could hold it together long enough.

Phil stood watching them, “Here, Sam,” he held out a shotgun, “Packed the shotgun shells full of rock salt and chloroquine.”

Sam looked at him quizzically.

“It’s a malaria drug, and since this vampire is like the african spirit of malaria, it might slow it down.”

“Good thinking,” Sam stood up and took the gun from him.

“Dip the knife...” Dean coughed. Sam looked down at him. “Dip my knife...”

“In the chloroquine, yeah,” Sam looked at Phil.

“Hey, it’s an idea.”

Sam returned the now poisoned blade to Dean’s hand, who moved around to conceal it under the sheets. Dean’s eyes started to droop.

“Hey, hey, Dean, hold it together, man...”

No response, slipping away again.

Sam raised his hand and slapped Dean across the face as hard as he could.

“Ah! Son of a...!” Dean’s eyes flew open.

“Stay awake, okay.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay...” Dean’s eyes were open wide now, his cheek reddening from the hit. Sam bit back a pang of guilt. Needed to be done.

Sam got his gun and knife and walked towards the door, glancing back at his brother to see Phil put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hang in there, Dean. We got this,” he smiled.

***

Phil and Sam stood shoulder to shoulder around the corner of their room, waiting. Sam didn’t like leaving Dean alone in the room. The night was dark, and Sam wondered how long he’d been tending to Dean like that. It had been the previous night that he’d got bitten.

Soon enough the thing came, enticed by the coconut water and palm oil. They could hear it slurping the stuff up, dragging its long nails against the walls. It wasn’t a quiet creature. Which was a good thing, cause Dean would know it was there and to ready himself. It bashed on the door a few times, finally discovering the doorknob. It made a hell of a racket getting inside the room. Sam heard Dean cough and tensed up. Phil put a hand on his shoulder.

“A little longer, Sam...” he whispered.

The Adze made more happy slurping noises, clearly appeased by their offerings. They heard something smash, a deep intake of breath, and then a god awful cry, and that was their cue.

The thing was reeling away from the bed, a knife imbedded in it’s chest.

It had a huge hunchback and long viscous claws. Phil and Sam filled the bastard with rock salt and chloroquine, sending it flying back into the wall.

Phil came at it with his machete, going for the head, but it flung an arm out and threw him into the TV, shattering through the screen and tumbling to the ground.

“Phil!” Sam shouted, but he was out cold.

“Come here, bitch! You want some of this!” Dean waved his arms.

“Dean, no!”

The thing cocked it’s head and looked at Dean.

Dean rubbed his hands all over his oily chest, “This is what you want right here, you ugly son of a bitch...” he spat.

Sam stayed still, so as not to attract the vampire’s attention.

It squared in on Dean, crawling up onto the bed, sniffing at his chest.

Sam slowly grabbed the machete out of Phil’s limp hand. He didn’t think he’d ever moved so slow in his life.

The Adze’s fingers danced with happy joy as it licked the oil off Dean, moving it’s way down to his stomach. The nails got longer and it pulled it’s head away to slice Dean’s stomach open with it’s hands.

“Now, Sam!”

Sam swung the machete, slicing it’s head clean off.

The room was filled with red light, and everything seemed to shake. Wind whisked around them like a hurricane, and then suddenly it stopped, and the creature disintegrated into dust.

Sam saw Phil shielding his eyes then drop his hand down.

“Hey, look, it worked,” he smiled, and then rolled onto his back, groaning in pain. Sam smiled, he’d be alright.

Sam looked at Dean but his eyes were closed, his body limp.

“Dean!” Sam grabbed his brother’s shoulders.

Slowly colour returned to Dean’s face, he was still clammy and slightly pale but he was also fighting a human illness so that was to be expected. His eyes fluttered open.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, Dean, we killed it. It’s done...”

“Killed what?” he groaned, curling onto his side, “And why am I covered in oil?”

Sam laughed in just plain relief.

“Oh, man... I’ll tell ya later,” Sam sighed, “And Dean...”

“What?”

“Bless you.”

“Huh? - Huh’schtu!”

***

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

“Sam?”

“Yeah, Dean, we killed it. It’s done...”

“Killed what?” he groaned, curling onto his side, “And why am I covered in oil?”

Sam laughed in just plain relief.

“Oh, man... I’ll tell ya later,” Sam sighed, “And Dean...”

“What?”

“Bless you.”

“Huh? - Huh’schtu!”

Omg, these two!

The feels from this story are just....umph! I can't! It's just awesome!

[MissBayliss]

***

Dean and Sam stood in the hallway, nurses bustling past them.

“So all the kids have made a full recovery?” Sam asked the pediatric doctor.

He nodded, “Last one’s checking out this afternoon. I don’t know how else to describe it but a miracle.”

“Thanks, doctor,” Dean smiled, effectively ending the conversation.

“You know if you want me to give you a once over...”

Dean put his hand up, “Not necessary, doctor, really.”

“At least let me write you a stronger prescription.”

Dean looked at Sam, “Well, I won’t say no to that.”

Sam clapped his brother on the shoulder.

Dean pulled his handkerchief out of his back pocket and turned away from them both.

Hut’schu! Het’shew! *sniff*

He let out a low groan, and Sam gave a wry smile to the doctor.

“Excuse me,” Dean cleared his throat, “We should get going.”

“Thanks, Marshals.”

“Not a problem,” Sam smiled.

The doctor quickly scrawled something and handed the paper to Dean, “Show that to the nurse on your way out,” he said, then turned and waltzed down the hall.

***

Phil’s orange Dodge sat next to the impala in the hospital parking lot.

“Hey,” Sam called, seeing Phil leaning against his front bumper, “The kids are fine, last one checking out today.”

“Ah, I love a happy ending,” he grinned.

“I guess this is it,” Dean said, his voice gravelly and thick with congestion, “Thanks for everything, Phil. I mean it. You saved our asses back there.”

“Nah, Sam’s the real hero,” he waved a hand. He steadied his gaze on Dean, “You look after yourself, Dean. I mean it, take a few days off.”

“We will,” Sam butted in.

Phil grinned, “See you ‘round, boys. Tell John he still owes me twenty bucks,” he pointed at them as he opened his door and lowered himself carefully into the drivers seat. His back was pretty bruised from the Adze attack, but he was holding up okay. Sam took his hand out of his pocket to wave. Dean simply nodded as the car sped off.

Sam looked at Dean, “You wanna hang around here a while?”

“What are you kidding? I wanna get the hell outta this freakin’ town,” Dean sauntered over to the passenger door, his face going lax.

Het’schoo! He sneezed into the crook of his arm.

“Bless you,” Sam said, opening the driver’s side door.

They both fell into the bench seats, slamming their doors closed simultaneously.

“How you feeling anyway?” Sam asked, staring at his brother, who was still looking pretty shattered, enough for the doctor to notice anyway.

“To tell you the truth, Sam, pretty friggen awful,” he sniffed, sliding down the seat and leaning his head back.

“Just get some sleep, dude.”

“Sounds good to me. Wake me when it’s my turn to drive.”

Sam didn’t know where he was going. He just wanted to put as much road between him and this town as they could. Dean’s eyes were already closed, and he folded his arms, as if he was cold. Sam nudged on the heating and drove out of the hospital parking lot. He wouldn’t make Dean drive, he’d go until he needed to sleep then he’d find a motel. Dean really needed to sleep in a bed but at least he was sleeping, and there was no denying that he needed that.

Ten minutes into the journey and Dean’s soft snores filled the car, Sam smiled at him, sniffed and rubbed his nose. His eyes fluttered and he gripped the steering wheel harder.

Hih’sku! He sneezed into his shoulder.

“Aw, crap...”

***

The End... or is it?

You tell me...

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

Sammy don got sick!!!!!! *evil laughter*

More more more more!!!! You can't stop now! Well I suppose you could with that perfect ending. But NOOO Please continue!!! *continues to babble*

[HPG]

Please, please, please, continue! Sick Dean was cute, but SAM!

[MissBayliss]

Sammy don got sick!!!!!! *evil laughter*

More more more more!!!! You can't stop now! Well I suppose you could with that perfect ending. But NOOO Please continue!!! *continues to babble*

Haha! Thank you so much for reading and commenting after every post I put up! definitely makes it worth while

I am writing another part but I'm not sure if I should start it as a new thread or not? But don't stress, I'm not done with this story

Please, please, please, continue! Sick Dean was cute, but SAM!

Thank you for reading! I'm going to continue so look out for it, either here or on a new thread. I'm not really a Sam girl, but both together!? Who can say no to that?