Challenge WOW: Warm
Summary: Sam and Dean have been kidnapped with no idea where their Daddy is. And what's worse, they're both sick. Wee!Chesters Sam: 2 Dean: 6 sick!Sammy and sick!Dean
Word Count: 1,006
Sweet Child of Mine
They were thrown into a dark room. It was cold and there was no light. Dean immediately grabbed Sam and held him to him. Sammy was sick, he didn't need to be here in the cold.
The man smiled, showing lots of teeth. Dean hugged Sam a little tighter.
"You two just stay put like good boys and you don't get hurt, got it?" The man said. Dean scowled at him. He wouldn't hurt Sammy. No one touched Sammy. The man left, leaving them in the dark.
Sammy coughed, burying his face in his big brother's shirt.
"I 'un Daddy," He groaned, coughing hard.
"It's otay, Sammy," Dean assured, feeling Sam's fevered forehead. "Daddy'll find us. Itta be otay."
Sam curled in a ball in Dean's lap, shivering. Dean turned away and coughed. He didn't feel good either, but Sam took priority. Sam was shivering, the cold air hurting his skin. He started to cry.
"'S 'told, Dean," he sobbed. Dean took off his long-sleeved shirt and wrapped it around his crying brother.
"Shh…'s otay, i's otay."
He held his little brother in the dark, keeping his face in his shoulder and trying to calm his fears and keep him warm. And he knew Daddy would save them soon.
He fell asleep a little while later, cradling Sam close. His throat hurt, his body ached, his head hurt and he had a fever, but he had to keep Sammy safe. He sniffed, tears in his eyes.
He woke up to Sam squirming in his sleep.
"Sammy, Sammy, i's otay, stop," he said, shaking him lightly to wake him up. "Shh…wake up, Sammy. Shh…" Sam opened his eyes and looked up at him. They were bright with fever and bloodshot. Dean hated seeing his brother like this. He would usually have called Daddy and gotten Sam some soup and his little kid Tylenol to make him feel better. He would have given him his teddy bear and turned on Thundercats.
He couldn't here. The most he could do here was wrap him up tight in his shirt and rock him, which is what he was doing right now.
The door opened. Dean hugged Sam closer, hiding his face from it. A tray slid across the ground. Before the door closed again, a blanket fell next to the tray.
"I'll be righ' back, Sammy," he whispered, gently setting Sam on the floor. Sam whimpered, his head resting against the cold concrete corner. Dean picked up the blanket and the tray, his body shaking. He felt so awful. He just wanted to sleep, he wanted to be warm, he wanted his Daddy.
But he had to take care of Sammy. He had to protect his little brother. The soup was still warm, but there wasn't enough for both of them. He went over to Sam, wrapping the blanket around him. He sat down and gently coaxed Sam's mouth open, tipping the spoon. Sam ate slowly for awhile without complaint. Until he saw that Dean wasn't eating.
"D-Dean, you ea'," he said, turning his head away from the spoon.
"I'm otay, Sammy. You eat," his hands were shaking. Sam shook his head.
"Pwease…" His eyes were watering. Dean sighed and ate half a spoonful. His stomach growled, but he wouldn't eat anymore, no matter how bad he wanted it. He fed Sam the rest and gave him all of the water except one sip that Sam made him take.
Sam was curled against him now, wrapped up tight in the blanket. Dean was shaking, freezing, but he had to stay strong. He had to take care of Sammy, he had to.
The door opened again. A man stepped inside, smiling with all of sharp teeth showing. Dean set Sam down, standing in front of him, guarding him. The man laughed.
"Tough guy, huh?" He chuckled. Dean scowled. "I'll be sure to tell your daddy what a big guy you were."
"My Daddy's gonna kick your ass," he growled. The man frowned and backhanded him. Dean fell to the ground, blood in his mouth.
"Dean!" Sam yelled. Dean pushed himself up, still scowling at the man.
"Little shit," the man snapped, slapping him. Dean fell again. And again, and again, until he couldn't get up anymore.
"Dean…" Sam sobbed, looking up at the man and down at his brother. The man laughed, using his foot to turn Dean over.
"Not so tough now, are ya, little guy?" he laughed and left the room.
"Dean?" Sam cried, his chubby fingers clinging to the blanket, scared.
Dean grunted and pushed himself up, crawling over to his baby brother, his face bruised and bloodied. He put Sam in his lap again. The younger Winchester looked up at him, his innocent face covered in tears.
"Otay?" he asked. Dean's lower lip trembled, tears in his eyes.
"I wan' Daddy too."
Sam coughed all night. Dean did too. Their fevers were high, making them both weak. They both cried, wanting to go home, wanting their Daddy.
But Daddy didn't come. Dean dozed into another fitful sleep, holding Sam tight, so cold it hurt. Sam was asleep, fresh tears still on his cheeks. Dean sniffed, his fingers holding his little brother so tight his fingers hurt, just like when he'd carried him out of the fire.
Dean vaguely heard the door open. He heard heavy footsteps, two pair, coming toward him. He felt Sam get taken out of his arms no matter how tight he tried to hold on.
"NO!" he screamed, sobbing. "Not Sammy, don't take Sammy, please! Not Sammy…Sammy!"
"Dean, Dean, stop, stop it's okay," Hands lightly held his shoulders. One moved to his cheek, cradling his face. "Shh, shhhsh, look at me, buddy, it's Daddy. It's Daddy."
Tear-filled eyes filled with hope.
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