Sweet Child of Mine
Dean was asleep on the bed. The medicine had helped his fever by a fraction, and some sleep would do him some good. John was standing between the bed and the recliner Sam was in, watching his boys sleep.
"They alright?" Bobby asked, coming up behind him. John nodded.
"Sammy's gonna need medicine soon. But they're both alright," he said in a low voice.
"Then what's wrong with you?" John sighed.
"Dean misses Mary. He cried for her for about an hour."
Bobby's brow creased, understanding his mood.
"What am I supposed to tell him, Bobby? 'Sorry, Dean, Mommy's never coming back and you'll just have to deal with it'? I can't do that to him. And I can't tell him that she'll be here. What am I supposed to do?" John asked helplessly.
"Tell him…tell him that he can't see her, but she can see him. Tell him she's watching him all the time, and she's with him every day. That's what you tell him," Bobby whispered. John nodded.
"Okay," he glanced at his watch. He took the Children's Tylenol off of the nightstand and poured a dose. "Sammy," He said gently, lifting him up into a sitting position. "Sammy, wake up, buddy." Sam's eyes opened slowly. He grunted in discomfort, squirming.
"Shh, it's alright Sammy. Sit up," he said gently. He got Sam to drink his medicine after the third try. "There ya go, buddy. You can go back to sleep." Sam shook his head, frustrated.
"No, I 'un Dee'. I 'un Dee'," he said, crying.
"Okay, okay, shh…" John urged. He didn't need Dean to wake up too. He stood, holding Sam, and walked over to the bed, lying him next to his brother. Sam draped his arm over his brother, nuzzling his face into his chest. Dean's eyes cracked open and he hugged his baby brother close.
They both fell asleep, just trying to be there for the other.
John put Sam's teddy bear under his arm and draped his blanket over him. He rubbed the back of Dean's head, making sure the bruises and scrapes on his face weren't infected. They were going to be alright.
And now, he had a Vampire to deal with.
"I'll be back, Bobby," he said, grabbing his jacket.
"Don't make too big of a mess," Bobby warned. John flexed his jaw.
John came back around dawn, bloody and dirty. The Bloodsucker was dead, past dead, he had made sure of it. The last thing you ever wanted to do was mess with his boys. He took a shower and checked on Sam and Dean again.
Their fevers had broken, thankfully. He sighed and collapsed in the recliner, letting himself drift into sleep. For a few hours anyway.
"Daddy," Dean whispered. John heard a low growl. "Daddy, I'm hungry."
"Hung'ee, Da'ee!" Sam squealed, jumping on his stomach.
"Oh!" John sat up, taking Sam off of his chest. He smiled. "Alright, alright, c'mon."
He took Dean's hand and hoisted Sam up onto his hip. His boys.
--Thank you guys! More soon!!--