How Can You Smile With all those Tears in your Eyes?
'Promises mean everything when you're little and the world is so big'
Dean sighed as he looked at the thermometer.
Yeah; the little tyke had spiked a nasty fever.
Instead of being 96.8, he was 99.3.
He looked down at his little 8 year old kid brother with a sympathetic smile.
"How you feeling?" Dean asked.
Sammy coughed and whimpered.
"Hurts" he said softly.
"Yeah….I know it does. The Flu does that. But you'll get better." Dean said trying to reassure his brother.
Sammy sniffed and looked up at his brother with big round eyes.
"Can I go to school?" he asked, hopefully.
Dean frowned and laughed. Little odd.
"Not if you wanna infect all the others in the class. You stay in bed kiddo. Until it all goes away" Dean said.
This time Sam moaned and squirmed under the covers.
He wanted so badly to go and see his friends; Lucy, Toby and Kody.
"But I don't wanna stay here" Sam whined.
"You'll have to. Or you'll get sicker and sicker. And that is not about to happen. Not While I'm on duty. Now go to sleep." Dean said as he got up.
Sam pouted; it wasn't fair. He wanted to go to school. He wanted to have fun. Not stay in bed and sleep like Dean had told him to do.
"But" Sam began.
Dean's reprimanding look stopped any further protests and Sam shrank back under the covers.
The moment was broken by heavy footsteps from the hallway and a knock at the door. Both boys looked up and saw their father standing in the doorway.
"Hey boys…. I talk to you outside please?" John asked.
Dean nodded obediently.
"Don't move Sammy" Dean said as he left. The door closed behind him and Sam muttered angrily to himself.
His throat was itchy, but not too bad. Mostly his limbs ached. Like he'd been running around for days. But he hadn't.
Dean had said the Flu….what was the Flu.
Was it when you go to sleep and then get up and run around until you get so tired, your body aches?
Or was it when something starts growing in your tummy?
Sam remembered that from a movie. He'd come downstairs, it had been real late. But he'd had a nightmare and Dean had been asleep. So Sam went to get his father. He'd come down to see the little snake with arms and legs and really sharp teeth jump out and start attacking people. At that point Daddy had come and picked him up, muttering that it wasn't a movie for little kids.
Must have been a conspiracy; that the parents wouldn't tell their kids about this….Flu. Because they were aliens too.
Sam smiled at his conclusion. It was intelligent and well thought out. Couldn't be wrong.
But when it occurred to him that the little snaky monster thing would bust outta his stomach. That might really hurt.
Sam pulled up his shirt and cast a wary glance at his flat little stomach. He inspected it closely, as if the monster would jump out at any second.
But his quiet inspection was interrupted with a sudden burst of yelling outside. Sam looked up at the closed door to hear his brother start yelling at his father.
Dean had become strangely rebellious of late. He and Dad fought often. They were always yelling or snapping at each other, or telling Sammy about how bad the other had become.
It was stressful on the little boy, he had to deal with bullies at school and bullies at home. At times, both Daddy and Dean were bullies to each other and Sam had to listen.
There was another roar from their father and Sam felt tears prick the backs of his eyes.
He hated it when they fought, when they screamed. It made him wanna cry.
He closed his eyes and decided to count to 10, taking deep breaths as he counted.
As the screaming got louder, Sam stuck his fingers in his ears and counted louder in his head.
When he got to 10, he opened his eyes and unblocked his ears. The screaming had stopped.
But he could feel the tension in the air still. As tears began to leak from his little eyes, Sam began to wish that he had everything Dean had when he was 4.
He had a mother, a father, toys, a room, laughter and got along well with his family. A good life.
Sam didn't have a good life. He had a father but no mother, he didn't have a room, didn't even have a house, he didn't laugh very often, and didn't get along with his family.
In fact, Sam hated his life. He often just closed his eyes and wished that he had a good life. That Mom was still around, that Dean and him were best friends. And Daddy wasn't so angry all that time. But it was pretend and the sting of reality would never leave him alone for more than 5 minutes.
Suddenly the door opened and Dean walked in. He looked angry and upset.
"Sammy, get up." He demanded.
Sam looked up at dean with an innocent eye, only to have a glare cast back at him.
"Where are we going?" Sam asked.
"Away" Dean snapped.
"Just away Sam. Now get up!"
"But I'm sick"
"GET UP!" Dean roared.
Sam couldn't stop the instant flow of tears that ran from his eyes. He hated it when Dean yelled at him. What did he do. Did he ask too many questions. Just shut up Sam. Just do what he says. He won't lead you wrong.
Sam sobbed silently as he kicked the covers off. He could feel his 12 year old brother staring at him.
Dean wasn't glaring anymore, he looked upset.
"Don't cry Sammy" he said suddenly.
Kneeling down, he reached out to Sam but Sam pulled away. Afraid that he might do something wrong. Afraid that he might get yelled at again.
Dean looked hurt by this action and scooted closer to him.
"Its okay" he said.
"Then why'd you yell at me?" Sam whimpered.
Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Cause I'm tired. I know you didn't deserve it. But I'm tired and we have to leave." Dean said.
Sam was just about to ask why, but he shut his mouth and nodded. Being inquisitive had its bad side.
"Dad wants to leave. So we have to go too. I'll pack your stuff. You just stay warm and get out to the car as quick as you can alright?" Dean said softly again reaching for Sam.
This time Sam reached out for Dean and latched onto his brother's shirt. He buried his sore head in his brother's chest and sobbed.
He felt so sick and he didn't want to leave. He just wanted to sleep. The little escapade had made him very tired.
"M'tired Dean….I wanna sleep" he whispered.
"Yeah the Flu will do that to ya tyke….now I want you to take that blanket from the bag" Dean began.
"Woobie?" Sam asked.
He loved that blanket to death, had once upon a long time ago been Dean's but the eldest had tried to throw it away. So Sam took it, renamed it and had kept it with him ever since.
Dean gave a sigh and rolled his eyes.
"Yeah…Woobie. Take it and wrap it around yourself. I'll get some pillows and we can camp out in the backseat. Kay?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded slightly.
The car was freezing, and Woobie was doing his very best to keep Sam warm, but it wasn't really working. The pillows beneath his head were soft and invited sleep, but his head hurt too much and he was too stuffed up. If he fell asleep he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to breath.
He gave another whimper and curled up tighter.
"Get some sleep kiddo. You're exhausted" Dean said softly.
His cool hand slid under his hair and onto his forehead. It felt so good against the heat that was radiating from him.
"Can't….too sick" Sam whispered, his throat constricting painfully. It had gotten worse as the sun went down. Now Sam felt as if he could just die. That little snaky monster thing was having the time of its life.
Dean slipped his arms around Sam's small body and dragged the bundle up onto his lap.
"Uh….you're getting hotter. You really should rest Sammy. You need it. It'll help fight off the Flu" Dean said.
Sam sniffled again and coughed. He buried himself in the folds of Dean's shirt and sobbed.
"I hate it" he muttered.
"It's alright Tyke. Just relax….you're with me. You'll be alright" Dean soothed.
They stayed in silence for a little while.
Before Dean looked up.
"We should get him to a doctor" Dean said.
John simply hummed slightly from the front seat, and said nothing more.
Dean scowled and gripped Sam a little tighter.
"Why aren't you saying anything?" he asked.
"Cause I think that we should keep driving. Sammy will be fine. He's probably faking it anyway" John sighed.
Dean looked down at Sam and Sam shook his head.
"M'not faking….hurts….everything hurts….Dee-Dee….make it stop" Sam whimpered from his shirt.
"Dad…he's really sick….really…really sick. We have to get him help. He's so sick….Dad…please" Dean said softly.
He kept a hand on his little brother's forehead, trying to calm the sobs that shuddered from Sam's little body.
are not stopping. Just drop it" John snapped.
"No! Dad, this is Sammy. He's sick and all you care about is the stupid hunt!! Just drop us off at Pastor Jim's….or Bobby's" Dean said.
John growled under his breath.
"That was the plan" John snapped as he turned a corner that lead into Texas.
Bobby opened the door as the black Impala roared up onto the gravel. He'd heard that they were coming, and that there was something that John needed to take care of and the boys were getting a little hard to handle.
The door opened and John stepped out. He looked pretty angry. Figures that he had just had a fight with Dean again. It was early teen years and it was a natural scheme of things. John opened the boot and grabbed the boy's bags.
The back door suddenly opened and Dean came out, carrying a small bundle of blankets and pillows. He looked closely to see it was Sam.
What the hell had happened? He walked over to Dean and knelt down.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Sammy's really sick….Dad won't take us to a doctors" Dean muttered, staring down at the shivering bundle.
Bobby peeled back a few folds of blankets to see Sammy.
The little boy was pale and had dark smudges under his eyes, he was slick with sweat too.
"God….what's he got?" Bobby asked.
"I dunno….I thought it was the Flu but he is a little too sick for that. He says everything hurts….especially his neck. Bobby…I dunno what to do with him. He says its so cold but he's burning up." Dean said softly.
"We'll call a doctor when he leaves….alright?" he asked.
Dean looked up and smiled, gratefully.
He didn't say anything; didn't have to. He just lugged Sam a little higher up onto his chest and walked inside.
He settled Sammy into bed, very gently; almost as if he was afraid of hurting him.
Sammy did moan slightly, but out of Flu induced pain.
"It's alright Sam. You're alright now" he muttered.
Sam grabbed onto Dean's shirt and sobbed.
"Don't go….please Dee-Dee" he begged.
Gently disengaging himself, Dean knelt by him and put a cool hand on his forehead. It quickly became hot and he grimaced at this fever that wouldn't break.
"You need your rest Sammy. Just relax. I won't be far. Just call and I'll come running" Dean said softly.
He waited until Sam showed some sign of acceptance. The only thing he got was another sob and Sammy's little body relaxed. It was good enough.
"Good. I'll see you later Sammy. Just call if you need me" Dean said and got to his feet.
"Don't be far" Sammy whispered.
"Sure….night Sammy" Dean muttered as he closed the door.
Bobby stood outside, a sad look on his face. It was obvious that he was worried too.
"He's resting….but Bobby….he's so hot, I'm afraid that he might be too hot….and might start seizing" Dean muttered.
"Don't worry Dean. There's a doctor on his way. I told him it was an emergency. So he's coming Dean. Just be calm" Bobby said softly.
Dean sighed and rubbed the back of his head worriedly.
"I can't stand to see him suffering. I can't stand to see him this sick" Dean said softy
Bobby nodded sympathetically and led the distraught older brother down stairs.
It was very quiet and very dark, but Sam couldn't sleep. He felt too hot, too cold, too sore and too stuffed up. It was beyond agonizing, beyond annoying. With another frustrated sob, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the roof. His eyes tracing the network of cracks that ruptured the ancient peeling paint.
His mind began to wander, wander to why Dean and Dad were fighting so much.
His friend Kody's parents had split up because they had been fighting too much.
That they didn't love each other anymore, so they moved away from each other. Kicked each other out of the house.
A chill ran up Sam's spine as he realized that maybe that might happen to Dean and Daddy.
Could a son and a father get a….a….diborse?
If a Mommy and Daddy could…then anyone could.
Sam let out a little groan as he thought about what might happen. What if Daddy and Dean moved away from each other. What would happen to Sam? Would they fight so much that they would run so far away that Sam couldn't see them anymore? That thought was scary, that thought made Sam quiver with fear.
It would be too much if Dean moved away, Sammy wouldn't be able to take it. He just knew that he would be made to go with his father. But Dean was the one that looked after Sam, and not Dad? So what would happen? Sam was only little. He wouldn't be able to cook any hot food. He would have to feed himself, go to sleep alone, walk home from school alone, read to himself, go to the park by himself.
No, no, no, no, no.
They would not get a diborse! Sam wouldn't let them. Sam would make them stay together.
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Dean would stay where he was, he would stay right with Sammy. And NOT go away. Never go away.
But right now….Dean was away. Sudden and desperate loneliness over came the small boy and he sat bolt upright. He needed Dee-Dee, and need him now.
Sam got out of bed, in a hurry. He opened the door and scampered down the hallway.
"Dee!! Dee-Dee!!!" Sammy screamed at the top of his little voice.
Within seconds Dean was at the foot of the stairs, looking up. A worried look was plastered on his face.
"Sammy….what's the matter" he asked.
Sam didn't say anything, he began to run down the stairs instead.
But he was wearing his jeans still and they were too long for him.
So the inevitable happened and Sammy tripped. He fell forwards, head about to collide with the stairs, just before Dean lunged and grabbed his little brother; he instead hit the stairs.
It pushed the air from his lungs, but he was alright. Which would have been more than he could say if Sammy had fallen. Sam turned in his brother's arms and grabbed onto him and clung there, sobbing and hiccupping.
"Sammy? What are you doing out of bed?" Dean panted as he sat up.
He found his little brother hanging onto him and wrapped his arms under Sam's legs to hold him there while he stood up. He began to head up the stairs, wondering why Sammy was crying so hysterically. The Flu didn't hurt that much….did it? Dean couldn't remember. He never had the Flu, always had his Flu shot. The same was still true, even though he payed for it himself now. He still got them. Sammy didn't, was too afraid of the scary needle.
He got Sam back to the cool bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. But Sam didn't let him go, he still had his shaggy little head buried in his shoulder, his little body shuddering with sobs.
"Sammy….you gotta let me go" he said softly, but the words made Sam cling tighter.
The 8 year old was terrified of something. Dean decided that the best way to get Sam to rest would be to sort out this problem, he hated seeing Sam so upset and scared.
"Calm down Sam. What's the matter? Are you hungry? Are you hurting? Tired? Sick?" Dean asked.
Sam shook his head and wrapped himself around Dean further. It wasn't the least bit annoying, it was a little worrying though.
"Then why are you crying so much?" Dean asked.
Sam pulled back slightly, his little head moving close to Dean's ear.
"I don't want you and Daddy to get a diborse" he whispered tearily.
Diborse? What the hell was a diborse.
"What to you mean? Diborse? What's that?" Dean asked.
"When….when….when you move away…from each other…." Sam hiccupped.
"Divorce? Me and Dad to get a divorce?" Dean asked.
Sam whimpered and buried his head in Dean's shoulder again, the sobbing returned.
Dean suddenly chuckled and shook his head. He rubbed his brother's back, making smooth circles with his hand.
"Sammy. It's alright. Me and Dad aren't going to get a divorce; we can't" Dean said still laughing.
"But….but you've been fighting so much" Sam muttered.
"Yeah…but only married people can get a divorce. Me and Dad can't get a divorce. We wouldn't anyway. Even though we fight….we still love each other. It's fights over stupid things Sammy. It's not that we don't love each other, it's just we don't agree on everything…." Dean soothed.
Sam finally pulled back from his brother's shoulder, tears still rolling down his small face, nose running. He sniffed and fisted Dean's shirt again.
"So…you aren't going to leave me? You are still going to cook me dinner? Still will walk home with me? Still read to me? Go to the park with me?" Sam asked.
Dean smiled and pulled a tissue form his pocket. He wiped his little brother's nose with a quick yet gentle flick of the wrist.
"I'm still gonna cook you dinner, still gonna walk you home, still gonna read to you, still gonna go to the park together. I'm not going anywhere, not anytime soon." Dean said softly.
He then wiped Sammy's eyes for him and rested his forehead against his baby brother's heated one.
"Okay with you?" he asked.
"Very okay with me" Sam whimpered and hugged his big brother.
Dean gave him a squeeze and hummed to himself.
"Better get into bed squirt. Doctor's coming to have a rattle around in that empty skull of yours. See what's got you going" Dean said.
"My skull is not empty! My skull is full of brains" Sammy protested.
"No! Just brains"
"Don't forget the goo"
"No goo! Just brains!"
"No!! Just goo!"
Dean smiled to himself as his little brother realized that he'd been tricked.
"Hey! No goo! Just brains" Sammy said, anger lacing his words.
Dean wasn't concerned with that from Sam, a simple nod and smile erased Sam's anger.
"Alright, just brains" Dean said softly.
Sam then yawned, massively and tiredly. Tears were in his eyes when he looked back at Dean.
"Now its really time for bed. Get in there and under the covers" Dean said as he lifted the covers for his brother.
Sam crawled off Dean and under the covers, resting his head on the pillow. He smiled wearily at Dean, a smile that seemed to be years older than he was. Wise and thankful.
"Thanks Dee-Dee" he yawned again.
Dean poked his little nose and smiled.
"Any time kiddo. This time, I'll be closer than close. I'll be in the next room. The doctor will be in soon and I'll come back then. But for now….you close your eyes and rest." Dean ordered gently.
Sammy closed his eyes on cue and sighed. Dean got to his feet and headed for the door for the second time in 20 minutes. But a quiet call stopped him.
"Could…you…just stay here….until I go to sleep…please?"
Dean sighed, mock exasperation dripping from his voice.
"Alright….I'll stay. Just because its you. But you owe me Sammy" Dean said.
"I'll give you anything…..anything….Dee-Dee….my next ice-cream?" he asked.
"I buy them for you anyway! I just want you to go to sleep. Get a little bit of rest. You're still ill." Dean said as he sat down.
Silence fell and it wasn't long before the unmistakeable sound of Sammy's soft snores filled the room. Dean smiled to himself and brushed Sam's hair out of his eyes, he knew that he could leave. But….why? It was so rare that Sammy looked un-troubled. He had problems at school, bullies and prying teachers. Fights with his playmates, had his lunch money stolen, fell over, got low test results, spilt paint all over himself. Dean hated being in a school that Sammy wasn't in. Not until another 4 years at the least. Sammy would have to be on his own for a little while. Even though whenever Dean got lunch or had a free period, or was jigging; he would come and see Sammy. Sneak up to the window, walk into the playground, sneak up on him in the cafeteria. His friends had become accustom to Dean showing up and had become accustom with the teenager and his protectiveness over Sam.
These thoughts kept Dean by his sick little brother until there was a knock at the door.
Dean was startled by the sudden noise. He cursed himself for letting someone sneak up on him. He got to his feet and walked over to the door and opened it slowly. It was Bobby.
"Hey Deuce. What's up?" he asked.
Dean smiled and glanced at the sleeping form of his baby brother.
"Yeah…he's alright. Just had a little scare. His imagination runs away with him a bit" Dean said.
"Is he alright now?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah, he's alright, he's finally asleep. Has been for maybe 10 minutes" Dean said.
Bobby nodded and looked at Sam with a relieved look on his face.
"Well the doc is almost here. He said that he wants to be alone with Sam for a little while. To test him for different diseases. Just in case" Bobby said.
"Good. Just in case. But Sammy won't wanna be alone….truth be known. I don't wanna leave him alone." Dean said.
"You're gonna have to. He's gonna need silence for this." Bobby said.
a sigh, Dean shrugged.
"Maybe…but if I hear one scream from him. I'll be in there and I'll not be leaving" Dean warned.
Bobby nodded and motioned for him to come downstairs, but Dean shook his head.
"No…I'm gonna stay up here, if Sam needs me. I don't want to see him cracking his head on the stairs. I think that might be a little worse on him" Dean said with a small laugh.
The old hunter laughed and sighed.
"Alright. Whatever Deuce. I'll be downstairs if you need me. Just call" Bobby said and disappeared down the stairs.
Dean sighed and walked into his own room, right next to Sam's.
By the time the doctor actually got to the Singer's Auto-Yard, Dean could have sworn that he'd taken twice as long as he was meant to. Dean opened his door when he heard the footsteps on the landing. He looked up to see a kindly looking doctor, at the very most 30 years old. He smiled at Dean.
"You must be the older brother….Dean?" he asked.
Cautious as ever Dean nodded and shook the doctor's outstretched hand.
"Yeah….you gonna help Sammy?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, that's my job. I would like you to tell me what his symptoms are. Help me out…you know" the doctor said.
frowned and nodded slightly. Any excuse to be with Sammy would do. So
they walked into the dark room and the doctor approached Sam's bed.
The little kid was curled up in a tight ball, sweat making his face
shine. He hadn't been that hot when Dean left him. He felt a little
worried. He walked over to Sam and knelt, putting a hand on his
little brother's shoulder.
"Sam? Sammy wake up on" Dean said softly.
Sam moaned and rolled onto his back, his eyes cracking open slightly.
"Dee?" he whispered.
Dean nodded and smiled slightly.
"Yeah it's me kiddo. How are you feeling?" Dean asked.
Sammy coughed pitifully and blinked slowly.
"Worse" he muttered.
"Alright, I have some good news. The doctor is finally here. He's gonna check you over. Make sure you're okay" Dean said warning his little brother of the oncoming inspection.
Whether or not Sam understood was another matter; Sam only nodded and said nothing.
Dean then took his leave and stepped away as the doctor took his place.
"Hey there Sam. I'm Doctor Jones. I'm gonna have a look at you. See what's wrong. Is that alright?" the doctor asked.
Sam rolled onto his side and sighed.
"Dean" he whispered.
The doctor frowned and put a hand on his forehead. He tutted gently as he felt the heat.
Dean stood in the corner of the dark room, watching like a hawk, staying silent as he could. Even his breathing seemed to be silent. If Sam had been coherent enough, he would have asked if his brother was still breathing. It was that quiet. But no matter what happened, Dean stood there with his arms folded across his chest, staring warily at what the doctor did to his little brother.
He took his pulse, blood pressure, temperature, listened to him breathe, had a look down his throat, looked in his eyes and nose and ears. Standard things. Things that didn't cause too much suspicion from Dean.
The doctor finally sat back, taking a deep breath. He looked at Dean and nodded to outside. The eldest took the hint and followed the doctor outside, to where Bobby was waiting.
"Well, Sam is one sick little boy. Very sick." Jones said.
Dean tensed slightly as the words came from his mouth. He was afraid of what he had, but he life threatening.
"What's he got?" he asked.
The doctor looked down at Dean and smiled slightly, knowingly almost. It made Dean a little irritated.
"At this point, I'm not really sure. Could be a bad case of the be something much nastier. To be sure, I need a sample of Sam's blood. Take it down for testing. Is that alright?" he asked.
"Yeah" Bobby said.
"No" Dean said.
Jones looked at them, a confused look on his face.
"Erm" he muttered.
"Sammy doesn't like needles and I don't want anything in him." Dean said.
"Deuce….it's alright. Take some blood" Bobby said.
"No it's not! Sammy doesn't want needles, and neither do I. No….the answer is no" Dean said.
"Dean! Stop it! Do you want Sammy to get better?" Bobby asked, angry for the first time in a long time.
"Yeah!" Dean said as if it was obvious.
"Then they need to figure out what he has! So take some blood." Bobby said.
Dean couldn't argue with that, but he wanted to. He hated seeing something occur that Sam hated. But this time, it was for the best regardless of what Sam wanted or Dean wanted.
He nodded with an angry sigh. Jones knew that he was upset about this.
"Hey…don't worry about it kid. How about you come in and help me with it" Jones asked.
Dean gave him a sharp look.
"I intended on doing just that. Not for your benefit, but for Sam's" Dean said and walked inside.
Bobby sighed and Jones followed the hormonal 12 year old.
Dean walked over and sat on Sam's bed, taking his hot little hand.
"Sammy?" he asked.
Sam's eyes flew open and he stared at Dean with sudden clarity.
"Hey Dean…." He muttered.
"Hey there Sammy. Look, the doctor has to take some blood. You're gonna have to have a needle" Dean said, his eyes on his brother's.
Sweat glistened on his brother's forehead as a sign of the fever that was having the time of its life in Sam.
"Okay Dee-Dee. you read me a story?" Sam asked.
Dean looked up at the doctor, confused. The doctor sighed.
"He's delirious Dean. He'll be alright." The doctor said softly.
Sam's eyes slid closed as the doctor began to prepare the needle. Dean stared at the sharp point of the instrument with obvious disdain.
Even though Sammy didn't wince or make a noise as the needle slipped into his skin, Dean winced.
He squeezed his brother's hand harder and muttered to himself.
"He'll be okay. He'll be okay"
Crimson filled the tube and the needle came out quickly. He put a cotton ball over the hole and taped it down after holding the small cotton ball there a few minutes.
"Done" he said with some sort of happiness.
It made Dean scowl. How could he draw happiness out of the suffering of another? Especially if that another was Sammy.
"I'll call you as soon as the results are back in. Okay?" the doctor said.
"Fine" he said.
Like there was anything he could say other than that. Dean didn't move from where he was, he let the doctor go outside, he heard the doctor talking quietly to Bobby and then they headed downstairs. Slowly he turned to Sam, and stared at his pale face with some measure of anger. Why did everything happen to Sam, why did he have to be a magnet for everything bad and painful. It was annoying and it always hurt.
"Hey….Brother?" Dean said softly.
Sam opened his eyes again, a faint smile on his face.
"Dee-Dee" he muttered.
Dean frowned as he heard the soft voice, it was hard to accept that his brother was so hot that he had no idea what was happening now. It was fear inducing.
"Sam. Do you know what just happened?" Dean asked.
Sam thought about it, a dreamy look in his eyes. It wasn't very long before he shook his head.
"Nu-uh. I came home from school and you read me a story?" he asked.
Dean shook his head, wondering why his eyes were stinging so badly.
"No Sam." He sighed and got to his feet.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked.
"To get something to lower this fever. I can't stand seeing you like this." Dean said softly.