--Once again, no wincest--

Life in the Fast Lane

Seven Months Later…

He thought he wouldn't have them. He thought that because she tapped him out his body would be alright. He was wrong. He was so very wrong.

Dean had fallen asleep a few hours ago. He couldn't believe he had taken him back. Which is why when he felt himself getting a fever, he decided to let Dean sleep and handle it himself.

The fever came fast and hard, taking his energy with it. He shut off the crappy T.V. and collapsed in his bed. The chills set in slowly, the cold seeping into his bones. He wrapped the blanket around him; the cloth felt like sandpaper.

"Medicine." He thought feebly. He sat up, regretfully pushing the blanket off of him. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. He stood on trembling legs. The room spun too quickly. He fell on his hands and knees, head pounding, body shuddering. He began coughing, coughing hard, arms shaking from holding him up. He started to fall.


Dean caught his baby brother, carefully pulling him up to a kneeling position.

"Easy, Sammy, easy," He soothed. "What's wrong?" Sam looked at him, tears and shame in his eyes.

"It…I…Dean…"He stammered, trying to find the words. Dean sighed.

"It's the blood, isn't it?" A tear slipped down Sam's cheek.


He thought Dean would let him go and leave him there. That he would stand over him and yell, yell like Dad. That he would walk out and never come back. He didn't want to be alone, but he deserved it. He deserved whatever Dean would do.

Dean wiped the tear off of his cheek and held his face between his hands.

"I'm not leavin' you, Sammy. I'm staying right here, and I'm gonna help you okay?" Sam shook his head, bewildered.

"N-no. I d-don't deserve it. D-Dean. I-I…It's my f-fault I-"


Dean shook his head, hugging Sam.

I'm not leaving you, Sam. I know that it's your fault. But you're sorry. I'm gonna take care of you, Sammy. It's gonna be okay." He said gently.

"No, Dean, d-don't. You sh-shouldn't ha-have to. I d-don't-"

"Sammy, please. You're paying for what you did. I know you're sorry, and I forgive you, Sammy."


"He forgives me! He forgives me!" He thought. He fell against Dean, sobbing violently. His joints and muscles ached and hurt every time he moved. The air around him was so cold. He hugged Dean, who felt warm, comforting. Home.


Dean held his trembling brother, feeling the hear of Sam's face thought his shirt on his shoulder.

He had to take care of Sam, he had to. It was something that he had trained himself to do since he was little. It killed him to sit and watch Sam be in any sort of pain. Which is why he was going to help him now.

"Alright, Sammy, come here." He carefully lifted Sam up and into the bed. He covered his shivering body and tucked the blankets around him. He grabbed the thermometer and took Sam's temperature. He gasped aloud when he read the numbers. Another two degrees and Sam would have to go to the hospital.

He sighed, knowing what he would have to do. And he really didn't want to do it. He closed his eyes, licking his lips.

"Okay, Sammy?" He said quietly. Sam looked up at him, brown eyes bloodshot and in pain. Dean's heart twisted. "Sammy, I have to get your fever down fast, okay?" Sam nodded. "And you're not gonna like it, okay, buddy?" Sam nodded weakly, hardly looking at him, like he wasn't really there. "Sammy?" He held his face, looking in his eyes, making sure he had his attention. "Did you hear me?"

"You gotta break m-my fev…fever." He slurred. Dean nodded and lifted him up. Sam's head lolled against Dean's shoulder, his eyes drooping. He shivered against him, his arms folded against his chest, shrinking against him.

"It's okay, Sammy," He said when he groaned. "It's gonna be alright, okay?"

He got Sam into the bathroom and turned on the water. He carefully started taking off Sam's clothes.

Sam whimpered, struggling weakly against him.

"Hey, hey, Sammy it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. Shh…" He kept going. Sam kept whimpering. Even crying.

Dean's heart ached, but he had to get Sam better, and this was the only way he knew how. No matter how much it sucked.


Sam didn't really know what was going on. All he knew was he could hear his brother's voice and he was getting colder. Someone was taking off his clothes. He writhed and squirmed as hard as he could, but he couldn't get away. He could still hear Dean talking to him. Why wasn't he helping him?

"D-Dean…" He cried, wanting to get away from the person hurting him. He was naked and freezing, and scared. Very, very scared.

"Shh…I'm here, Sammy. I know it's cold, buddy, but I gotta get your fever down." Dean said gently.

Sam's face was pressed to a chest, one he knew, as he was hoisted into a standing position. His feet left the ground, and when he was set back down, kneeling on something hard, his body erupted in agony.


Sam screamed. Dean's stomach flipped.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!" Dean exclaimed, holding his brother's face. "It's okay, Sammy. It's alright, shh…" Sam's face was soaked in cold water and tears, confused and scared. "We have to get your fever down, okay?"

"Dean?" Sam whimpered, as if he were just realizing he was there.

"It's okay, Sammy. It's alright." Dean assured.

"It hurts." Sam moaned, falling against him. Dean winced, pushing him back reluctantly.

"Shh…I know, I know, buddy. You're gonna be okay."

"'S t-to c-co-cold, Dean." He choked. Dean grimaced, feeling beyond horrible.

"I know, I know," He touched Sam's now wet forehead. It was only slightly cooler. "Just a little longer, Sammy. Almost done, almost done."

Dean hated pushing his brother away and holding him in the cold water, making him whimper and cry. After another ten minutes, he couldn't take anymore. He took Sam's temperature again. As soon as he saw the numbers he shut off the water and let Sam collapse against him.

"It's over, Sammy. No more, it's done. You can get warm now, it's okay."


Sam huddled his freezing, wet body together, teeth chattering in the icy air, and leaned as close as he could to his brother.

He cried softly, wanting more than anything to get out of this tub.

"C'mon, Sammy, c'mon." Dean said, lifting him up and out, wrapping a towel around him. Dean dried him off, got him dressed and put him back into bed.

Sam burrowed under the covers, holding them tightly around his shoulders. He shut his eyes, trying to get past the agony in his body.

"Dean…" He cried. "Dean…" He needed his brother right now. Dean sat down next him him, pushing his damp hair from his face.

"Shh…" Dean whispered. "It's okay, Sammy."

Sam leaned into his hand, trying not to cry again.

"Dean…" There were tears in his voice. Dean lifted him up, putting his back against the pillows and held Sam to him.

Sam trembled, still cold, but Dean's body heat was warming him fast.

"It's okay, buddy. You'll be just fine. Just go to sleep. Shhh…" Dean said gently, pulling the blankets tighter around him.

Sam's eyes drooped, heat finally spreading through his body. He let exhaustion take him without a fight, still clinging to Dean for dear life.


Dean held onto Sam all night, checking his temperature periodically, watching it go down more and more.

And at some point in the night, before Dean fell asleep, Sam whispered in his own,

"Thank you." Dean hugged him closer, resting his cheek on his head.

"It's my job Sammy," He said to his unconscious little brother. "Just promise to find a girl that's not buckets of crazy and demon blood."


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