Just because there aren't enough sick/hurt Dean and protective Sam stories out there! :)


They were driving when it happened. When weren't they driving? Dean noticed his vision getting blurry, but choose to ignore it. They had too many other things to worry about. Sam had just been posessed and now his visions seemed to be getting worse by each day. Dean knew this was no time to be concerned about himself. He tried the best he could to listen to Sam, but his head was screaming at him, throwing him bricks of pain.

He winced.

"Dude, you all right?" Sam sat up, worry in his eyes. Dean looked at him quickly.

"Yeah, I'm fine, what were you saying?"

Sam frowned.

"Are you sure?"

"Dude, I'm not the one who's having these visions, okay? And I haven't been been possessed either. I should be asking you if your okay. Now, what were you saying?"

"Okay, okay," Sam muttered and went back to the original topic.

Despite his best efforts Dean suddenly lost control of the car and swerved. Sam shouted in alarm as they rolled into a ditch, barely missing the tree. The Impala, lucky unscratched.

Dean put his hands over his face, groaning.

"Are you sure you're not the one having these visions?" Sam asked sharply. "Cause it sure looks like it from here."

"No, no visions," groaned Dean, rubbing his eyes. "Headache."

Sam stared at him, worry building.

"That's some headache," he said quietly. "Nearly got us killed."

"I know that Sam!" Dean shouted. "I don't need to be reminded!" He paused and stopped moving. Sam frowned.

"What's going on? Dean, you're scaring me."

"I feel sick," Dean mumbled and quickly opened his the door, got out and vomitted. As he collapsed Sam opened his door to rush over to his brother.

"Dean!" He grabbed Dean and sat him up. He stared at the blood on the ground. Dean was gasping for breath now, blood on his lips.

"My eyes," he mumbled. "Everything blurry." He shook his head. "It hurts to see."

Sam stared at him, unsure of what to say or to think. Suddenly his phone rang.


"I presume that Dean's symptoms has started," the voice on the other end said, sounding amused.

Sam stood up instantly.

"Who are you?" He snarled. "What are you doing to my brother?" Dean, by than, was too weak to look up even.

The man laughed.

"I injected him with a little poison. He'll be dead within a matter of days. A slow and painful death too."

"You sonofabitch.."

"Careful Sam. You don't want to insult the person holding your brother's antidote."

Sam took several deep breaths, trying to calm down as he watched his brother groan in pain.

"What do you want?" His voice was hardly audible.

He could almost hear the man smirk when he spoke.

"You," he whispered. "I want you Sam, or your brother dies."

Should I continue?