Disclaimer: Anything recognizable--not mine. Anything not recognizable but already been done--also not mine. Any mistakes--not...wait, those are mine, sorry.

A/N: Strangely enough, after watching last night's episode I had to put a spoiler warning on a story that's been written for months. If only the freaking second chapter hadn't taken so long to write.

It was stifling, the heat and humidity had been plaguing them for hours. The only slight reprieve was from the constant wind created by the open windows of the moving Impala.

Suddenly the car stopped and the driver side door opened. Sam lazily rolled his head in his brother's direction to ask about the offending non-motion, when the sound of liquid hitting asphalt got him moving.

"Dean?" Sam climbed out of the car just in time to see Dean throw up again. "Are you ok? Never mind. Hold on." He leaned into the backseat area of the Impala and grabbed one of the bottles of water he'd thrown back there after a rare stop in a "town" that was large enough to have a Wal-Mart. He scoured his memories from the past few hours, days, weeks as he tried to remember anything to give him a reason for his brother's sudden illness. As he was handing the bottle of water to Dean, a memory hit him between the eyes.

High temperatures had always had an adverse effect on Dean. Usually, the causes were the high fevers he was prone to during the rare times he was sick and since they had spent most summers up north when they were younger, it wasn't until Dean was a senior in high school that Sam had made the connection. Apparently, their father had figured it out and he would either ban Dean from hunts in hot climates or John would force him to take whatever migraine prescriptions he managed to get from some of his contacts. It was one of the few things that Sam and his father had agreed on while he was growing up. Sam wanted to slap himself for not remembering sooner. He also wanted to smack Dean for being so freaking stubborn and not stopping at that motel 20 miles back, but he figured his brother didn't need any added discomfort.

Shuffling Dean towards the passenger's seat, Sam situated his nauseated sibling before hustling to the driver's side. Hurriedly, he turned the car around and headed back towards the Jupiter Inn.


What should have been a twenty minute drive turned into a forty minute drive due to frequent stops to accommodate Dean's unsettled stomach. Sam gave a small sigh when the sign for the Jupiter Inn finally came into view and he quickly pulled into the parking lot and parked as near as possible to the check-in office.

Sam groaned inwardly when he saw that the door to the office was standing open. An open door in this heat meant no AC and no AC meant that this situation wouldn't be improving anytime soon. He hoped that in this case it only meant that the AC was only not working in the office and that the rooms were practically glacial. He knew it was slightly selfish, but at this point he was simply hoping that someone, anyone would throw him a bone.

"I'm gonna go get a room. You gonna be okay out here a little longer?"

Receiving nothing more than a grunt from Dean as an answer, Sam climbed out of the Impala. Closing the car door, he walked a couple of feet to the door of the office and stepped inside. Immediately, he made note of the fact the he was correct in the assumption that there was no air conditioning in the office. He also noted the sparse furnishings and the rather bored-looking elderly attendant.

"You want a room or directions?" The attendant's vivid blue eyes seemed to belie his obvious age as he watched Sam approach the counter.

"A room. Do you take credit cards?"

"Sorry, the reader's broken. The new one won't come in 'till next week."

"Alright," Sam sighed as he pulled out his wallet. "The rooms are air conditioned though, right?" he asked concerned that he may have to force Dean to endure even more time in the heat if he had to look for another motel in what was apparently no-man's land.

"Oh, yeah, the AC in the rooms it works fine. The AC in here's just finicky, is all. That's what the fans are for." He pointed around the space at the various fans. "Is your friend coming in here? It's awfully hot to be sitting out there in that black car. You want a double right?"

"Yeah, a double. You wouldn't happen to have any rooms with a kitchenette, would you?"

"Actually, we do have one available. It'll cost a bit extra."

"How much?" Sam asked as he began removing bills from his wallet.

"Sixty-five a night."

Sam winced as he heard the sounds of Dean being sick once again.

"Is he alright?" The desk clerk asked with a look mixed between concern and disgust.

"Migraine," Sam replied as he handed the man what little cash he had. Hopefully, Dean had more since he hadn't seen any places to "earn" extra.

"Room 28. Check out's at ten." the silver-haired man said as he handed Sam the key.


Hastily, Sam left the humid office and practically sprinted back to his brother and saw that Dean had managed to get out of the Impala and was presently leaning, head bowed, against the black beast.

"Hey, I got us a room, c'mon." Sam said softly as he maneuvered his big brother towards the front of the car. After getting his brother back into the car Sam climbed inside. Once again, he pushed the open bottle of water at Dean.


Dean gave an incredulous raise of an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that. Dehydration, you know the drill." Starting the Impala, Sam moved it to a parking space closer to their motel room. Quickly, he removed Dean from the car and ushered him into the room where he immediately deposited him in the bathroom. He then made a trip back to Dean's baby to bring in their stuff. As he brought in their gear, he claimed the bed next to the room's door, leaving the one closest to the bathroom for his ailing brother. Finally, he placed the first aid kit on his bed and took out the medicine that would hopefully knock this migraine out of Dean, eventually. The sooner he got the pills into his brother, the better.

Making his way back to his brother, he started in on reprimanding his stubborn sibling.

"I know you wanted to make it to Dothan by nightfall, Dean, but you had to have realized you were getting sick. This whole trying to be macho crap only made things worse. If you'd just pulled over the first time we were here, you probably wouldn't be about to pray to the porcelain god right now."

"Sam, either shoot me or shut up." Dean half growled, half groaned from his position in the bathroom.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Dean, but if you're a good boy, I'll give you a present."

"Is it a gun?"

Sam chuckled softly. "No," he said as he held out the migraine pills.

Dean blanched. "I'd rather have a gun."

"Just take 'em, Dean"

"Dude, no. I'm having trouble keeping nothing down, what makes you think I'm gonna be able to hold those down?"

Sam sighed and turned to the sink. Grabbing a plastic cup, he filled it with tap water before squatting next to Dean. "Here," he said, pushing the water and pills at his brother.

"Sam, what part of 'no' don't you understand? Seriously, I'm this close," he illustrated with his forefinger and thumb, "to hurling again. And the thought of swallowing anything is not helping."

Looking at his brother, Sam realized just how much Dean was struggling with his stomach and mentally declared his stupidity for not grabbing the anti-nausea meds from the first aid kit before trying to force the migraine pills into Dean. Standing up, he walked out of the bathroom, picked up his phone and dialed, waiting for the other party to pick up as he searched for the Anzemet and needles in the oversized kit.

"Singer," a gruff voice answered after the second ring.

"Hey, Bobby, uh, we're not gonna be able to make it to Dothan on schedule." Sam plunged into the conversation only faltering slightly as he heard the sounds of sickness once more from the bathroom. "Is there anyone else that can take the hunt?"

"Is that your brother I hear, Sam? Let me guess, heat migraine, right? Damn it, I forgot how hot the summers are in Alabama. Why the hell didn't he get out of the heat sooner?"

"You know Dean, Bobby. He's always fine until he keels over unconscious." Sam straightened, antiemetic and needle in hand, and placed the first aid kit on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Yeah, well, I'll find someone to take the hunt. You just take care of that idjit brother of yours. Ya'll should probably stick to traveling at night, at least until you get to a cooler part of the States. I'd better start making some calls, Sam. You boys let me know if you need anything, ya hear?"

"We will, Bobby. Thanks."

Sam tossed his phone onto his bed before he walked back into the bathroom, this time prepared to combat his brother's nausea first. Kneeling next to the sick man, Sam showed him the medicine and proceeded to fill the syringe with the appropriate dosage.

"This should start working in about 20 minutes. We'll try the migraine pills after this kicks in, okay?"

"I don't care if you want to slow dance, as long as that stuff keeps me from trying to hork up my intestines."

Sam gave a small smile before he injected the medication. He too hoped that the shot would work. His family had realized a long time ago that something about Dean's body chemistry seemed to have a mind of its own and even though it may have reacted optimally with certain medication at one point didn't guarantee consistent results. In fact, there were times when it would actually cause his brother's symptoms to worsen. Sam could only hope that, for his brother's sake as well as his own, it wouldn't be the latter.

Regardless, judging from Dean's current condition, it was going to be a long couple of days.

A/N: This is not my fault. I blame L-annethunder. So you should too.