He flinches at the frigid, damp air that floods the car as Sam gets back in. Not that Dean's noticing his little brother at all, although he pointedly sneezes towards the driver's seat. Racking chills shudder through his frame and he inches up the heat though it hasn't helped yet. His muscles cramp with fatigue and his joints are throbbing, a widespread sickening beat that's strongest in his heavy, heavy head. He can feel Sam shifting in the driver's seat of the parked Impala, but he steadfastly continues ignoring him and reaches for more Kleenex.

Dean rears back as the seat by his thigh creaks and he's eye to eye with a faceful of Sasquatch. He feels his vision start to cross at the narrowed hazel stare, but glares back, his personal space distinctly violated. He frowns, moving to shove Sam back across the seat, but his right hand is pinned by Sam's left while his left arm is almost painfully lodged against the seat back by a large bony knee. He tries bucking, but Sam's way too heavy and there's no room.

"Gedd ov bee, Floredzz…" He growls, coughing. He's helpless at the intrusion of a large, freezing hand resting against his forehead. He flinches, tries to jerk away, but cannot stop the progress of Sam's fingers sliding under his chin, coming to rest against his neck. The hand ruthlessly and methodically palpates the swollen glands and lymph nodes under Dean's chin while he struggles uselessly.

"Stob, Sabb."Dean twists his head away again, gasping at the flare of molten fire in his neck. Groaning, he's pulled forward, his pounding head coming to rest on his molester's shoulder. He tries clearing his throat, unable to swallow or contain panting whimpers. He's released, sitting back to wipe at streaming eyes and runny nose.

Somehow Sam is back on the driver's side of the car.

"Sooo, clinic?"