A/N : This has sat forgotten on my comp for a few months now. I initially wrote it to cheer up Tara, who was suffering from nasty flu at the time. And well...now I have the flu and a recent conversation about grumpy/sick Dean (yeah, Amanda, that'd be our conversation lol) had me looking for this fic. So here we go...a short, sweet, brotherly moment for all of us who are battling flus right now. *HUGS*


The cough was bone deep, causing Dean to fold around himself, eyes squeezed shut in agony before he groaned. Sweat was sliding down his forehead to disappear into the pillow his head was resting on. "S…Sammy?"

"Right here, dude."

Dean felt the bed dip slightly as his brother sat down on the edge of it.

Another choking cough shook Dean and he curled up again on himself, feeling like he'd been kicked in the chest by a mule. "Sam….you'd…you'd better take care of my car, dude. I swear….I'll…I'll haunt your ass." He groaned again and looked at his brother blearily, feeling as though he had the strength of a kitten.

"I'm not taking the car, Dean."

"What? Y-you're gonna need it, S..ammy. After…after, you know…" Dean murmured, his eyes sliding shut, his breath wheezing in his chest.

"Dude, you're not dying…it's just a flu."

"S'not…" Dean tried to shake his head and broke out into a choking coughing fit that had his hands knotted in the sheets as Sam rubbed his back.

"Yeah it is, dude. I told you going after that Ghast was a bad idea in this weather. You're run down. Now stop being such a freaking baby." Sam shook his head with a smile. Sure, the cough sounded nasty and the temperature Dean was carrying had risen a little in the last few hours. Sam had told his brother to take a hot shower when they had stumbled in the night before, soaked to the bone by a winter storm that had left them both numb with cold. But instead of listening, Dean had simply stripped out of his wet clothes and climbed into bed, complaining he was too tired. Now the flu that had been niggling him for days…had gotten a proper hold and Sam was left playing nurse to one of the worst patients in the world.

Dean tried to snuggle deeper into the blankets, hating the way his chest was aching. He was going to crack a rib at this rate…if he survived, because Dean was damn sure no one could feel this sick without it being a sign of imminent death. Dean didn't do sick…he didn't do colds or flus or any of those stupid illnesses that laid you up in bed. He was better than that. Shook things off without a problem before they got a hold of him.

Until now it seemed. If that freaking Ghast hadn't thrown Dean into the side of a mausoleum and then tried to drown him in a nasty ass puddle of muddy water, this wouldn't have even been an issue. It had to be whatever was in that water…some nasty strain of something that was currently kicking his ass. Not just a flu.

"Dean, come on, man…you need a hot shower." Sam pulled back the covers and gently pulled on his arm. "The steam will loosen up your chest for you."

Sniffling, Dean weakly tugged his arm away from Sam, mumbling petulantly as he tried to pull the covers over himself again. "D'wanna shower…"

"Well too bad, you're having one. Come on, dude. Stop being a girl and get your ass out of bed." Sam pulled the covers down to Dean's feet this time, grateful that his brother had at least chosen to sleep in boxers. His skin was pale, and he watched as his brother shivered.

"C-c-cold, Sammy…"

"I know, dude…that's why you need the shower." Sam gently eased his brother up and out of the bed, offering Dean his arm to cling to as he took tottering, shaky steps towards the bathroom, hunched over and looking as frail as Sam had ever seen him.

His brother could die, could come back from Hell itself, but give him the flu? And his immune system went into shock. Sam guessed it was because it was usually so damn resilient. When those safeguards were weakened…Dean was at the mercy of whatever illness was around and lately? Dean had been working himself to the bone.

Sam was going to make sure that for the next few days at least -- until he was sure Dean was getting better -- that they stayed put in this ratty motel room with it's carnation themed décor. If anything, the flowery surroundings might spur Dean on to recover sooner so he could get away from them.

As they stepped into the bathroom, Sam put down the lid on the toilet and gently lowered Dean down onto it. He turned towards the shower to turn on the water, feeling his brother's hand still latched onto his belt. Dean needed that contact, finding it comforting when he was sick.

Steam began to fill the bathroom and Sam felt Dean drag himself to his feet, trembling.

"You gonna be okay? I don't need you slipping over and breaking your neck, Dean…seriously." Sam never wanted to repeat that experience ever again..

Dean nodded, lifting an arm wearily to wave his brother out. " I'm f-f-fine. Get o-o-ou-out, dude…"

"Okay…but I'll be right outside." Sam told him, hesitating only a moment longer before he closed the door to give Dean the privacy he needed. Heading back to the beds, Sam stripped Dean's bed down and remade it with fresh sheets and blankets. He changed the pillow case too, knowing that Dean had been sweating all night with his fever.

From the bathroom, he could hear the chesty, wet cough Dean had formed through the night and his heart clenched slightly. His brother would be just fine, but Sam hated seeing him like this. Even when they were young and Sam had watched Dad take care of Dean through a bout of the measles, he had never gotten used to seeing his brother looking sick.

There'd been far too many times in the past that Sam had watched his brother deal with injuries…but sickness was another thing altogether. Listening to Dean coughing and hacking in the shower, Sam was starting to wonder if he would be performing emergency surgery in a minute to put Dean's lungs back where they belonged.

It was a few more minutes before Sam heard the shower shut off and then Dean emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He had more colour in his cheeks now, but Sam was already on his feet and on the move before Dean could take another step.

Dean shoved Sam away at first with the scowl, but after a few slow, unsteady steps, he acquiesced to Sam helping him to his bed. A fresh pair of sweat pants was waiting for him, Sam turning his back to allow Dean the privacy to slowly sit and drag the pants on before he toppled back onto the bed.

"You hungry at all, dude?"

Dean shook his head, his eyes already starting to slide closed as he felt Sam sliding him under the covers and making sure he was comfortable. " 'M s'posed to be looking after you…" He mumbled sleepily.

"I know, dude…but you are allowed downtime, so soak it up while you can, okay? Get some sleep." Sam told him softly, already aware that Dean was starting to snore lightly.

Sam grabbed the remote from the side table and walked around to the other side of Dean's bed, flipping on some cooking show as he sat down on top of the covers. A moment later, he watched Dean roll over and wriggle that little bit closer. It drew a smile from Sam as he laid back against the headboard, watching tv until his own eyes slid closed and his soft snores matched Dean's…