Alright, so this is a little something that I came up with while studying for a German exam of all things. Let me know what you think, and enjoy! -twiandsuperfan
Dean grabbed his cell phone from the seat next to him and quickly flipped it open, while taking another glance at his shivering brother's form. He sighed, wondering how his little brother had gotten so sick. It had started out with a simple cold, probably induced by spending a frigid, rainy night in the woods hunting a wendigo, and had amounted to what Dean had thought was a mix of pneumonia and the stomach flu. He and Sam had stayed overnight at another beyond crappy motel, hoping that Sam would get over this on his own, but after about the twentieth coughing fit, and sixth run that Sam had made to the bathroom to throw up, Dean had come to the conclusion that a crappy hotel was not where they needed to be.
If the choice of a hospital was an actual option, they would be high tailing their butts there, but with Dean's face plastered on the front of the FBI's most wanted list, that wasn't really an option…
Dean pressed the three button on his cell and hit call. The little tune that the phone made seemed way too happy at the moment.
"Dean, this had better be good… do you have any idea what time it is?" Came Bobby's gruff voice from the other end. In all honesty, Dean did not know what time it was, and after a quick glance at the clock he found it to be four in the morning.
"Sorry for disturbing your beauty sleep princess." Dean replied.
"Haha, very funny. Now I know that you didn't call to discuss my sleeping habits, what is it?"
"Bobby, Sam's sick, really sick, and I can't exactly take him to a hospital without being arrested, so I was hoping that you could help." Dean once again glanced over at Sam as he groaned and shifted in his sleep. Soon enough, Sam settled down again.
Dean heard grumbling on the other side of the phone before Bobby answered, "Boy, you know you don't have to ask, where are you now?"
"About five hours out, maybe four if I hurry, I just went through St. Cloud." Dean responded.
"Alright, I'll be waiting, call me if you need to." Bobby said.
"Thanks, Bobby." Dean said and then flipped his phone shut. He yawned and pressed on the accelerator, hoping to shorten the trip. He hummed "Fade to Black" as he drove, hoping to keep himself more alert.
Just then, Sam blinked his eyes open, confusion setting in on how he ended up in the car. His stomach twisted, and he felt his throat tickle with the beginnings of a cough.
"Dean?" Sam whispered in hoarse voice. He tried to clear his throat, but that only lead to a coughing fit. He hunched over in his seat and felt Dean's hand thumping on his back. When the fit subsided he noticed that the car was pulled over and Dean was looking worriedly at him.
"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked gently.
"It's Sam." Sam replied, before putting his hand over his tender stomach that was still rolling. The movement didn't go unnoticed by Dean.
"You gonna be sick?" Dean questioned.
Sam swallowed and nodded his head slowly, before opening the door to the Impala and falling out on his hands and knees, retching into the gravel. It was raining outside and the cold drops cascaded down his face and soaked his shirt. Dean was by his side in an instant, patting his back and whispering words of encouragement. When Sam was done, her leaned back onto his heels and let a small cough escape his shivering body.
After a few minutes Sam decided that he was good to go back in the car. He slowly stood up, his body wavering when he did, but felt his brother's supporting hand on his arm, and let his brother gently maneuver him back into the car. Once he was seated, Dean reached into the backseat and pulled out a tattered wool blanket and laid it over Sam.
"Thanks." Sam whispered as he pulled the blanket up to his neck, enjoying its warmth.
Then Dean reached into the backseat again, this time coming out with a thermometer and bottle of water.
"Sam, think you can drink some of this?"
"Not now." Sam answered, swallowing back the desire to throw up at the thought. He shifted uneasily and laid his fevered head against the Impala's cold window, shivering when the cold sent a chill through his body.
Then, a thermometer was thrust into his ear, making Sam jump.
"Sorry." Dean apologized while putting a hand on Sam's forehead. Sam leaned into the gentle touch and sighed. A beep broke the silence and Dean pulled the thermometer away, frowning at the little screen.
"103.4" Dean read out loud, knowing that Sam would want to know. "Sporting a pretty good fever there, Tiger."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Sam mumbled as he tried to find a comfortable position.
After he found one, he closed his eyes awaiting the peacefulness of sleep, but was disturbed by another coughing fit. He sat up and coughed into the crook of his elbow, grimacing at the fire boiling in his lungs. Once again, Dean's hand gently thumped on Sam's back, breaking the mucus that was choking Sam. Dean winced at the pain lines on Sam's face, and the red tone that was taking over his little brother's already flushed face.
Sam through open the door again and gagged into the puddles of water on the side of the road. Nothing was in his stomach anymore, but that didn't stop his stomach from trying to turn itself inside out. Finally, the glob of mucus that was stuck in Sam's throat was released.
Dean grabbed Sam around the waist and hauled him back into the car, closing the door behind him. Sam slumped into his brother's arms, exhausted. His heavy breath's wheezing in and out, with an occasional sharp cough.
"Let's get you to Bobby's." Stated Dean as he laid Sam's head on his lap and retrieved the blanket off the floor, laying it over Sam. He put the classic car into drive and soon they were off.
So, should I keep going, or just end it? Please let me know, and thank you so much for reading! -twiandsuperfan