Diagnosis is Far From Supernatural
"No frickin' way. I'm not going."
Dean Winchester's pasty white face glowered above the sheet tucked close to his chin.
Sam Winchester threw his older brother a very exasperated glare.
"Let me get this straight, Dean. You would rather fight an axe happy phantom than visit the very non hostile hospital."
"Is that a rhetorical question?"
"Then, hell yes. I would actually prefer facing the awesome danger of a bloody axe."
Sam looked down on his pale faced brother and shook his head firmly.
"Funny. But, I'm done arguing, Dean. I'm dragging your smartass to the clinic if I have to chain you up to the back of the Impala."
Dean grinned. "Sounds kinky."
Sam dragged the bed sheets away from Dean in answer.
"C'mon, Sammy! It's just a freaking cold! It's not like I have pneumonia," Dean exclaimed.
"You're not invincible, Dean. You need to see a doctor."
"For what? The sniffles?"
Sam pocketed the keys to the Impala and hoisted his brother up on his feet.
"Just the sniffles? Have you looked in the mirror? Or haven't you noticed that every time you belittle your symptoms, the hotter your body gets?"
"Well, that's because I just get that more attractive!"
"Dean . . ."
Sam ogled his big brother with his most lethal wounded puppy dog expression since he dented the Impala.
Dean practically recoiled from the adorable horror. But alas, it was much too late.
His hand unconsciously reached to ruffle his baby brother's hair with affection and he sighed in defeat.
"All right, all right. I'll go."
Sam smiled in relief.
Dean grunted as Sam led the way outside.
Dean had to admit that he was grateful for the support as his whole body ached and trembled.
Maybe it won't be so bad, he reasoned. Maybe he'll get a real of a doctor.
A doctor, who will just happen to be single, female and much underappreciated.
And of course, hot for him.