Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Author's Note: Written for day_by_drabble April Showers prompt 'fever.' AU.
He doesn't know what he's doing, has never dealt with anything like this, but he doesn't know who to turn to for help because they'll all tell him the same thing.
"Put that boy down now, John; he ain't your son anymore," they say.
John can't see the monster in him, though, all he sees is Dean, pale, and shaking, and burning as the bite wound on his shoulder festers despite everything John does to help. He knows it's his fault; knows he fucked up, and he'll be damned if he lets Dean pay the price for that more than he already is.
So he keeps his silence, holds it in while he sits at his oldest boy's bedside, and runs a cool cloth down his face, and neck; washes him off, and tries to keep the fever down to manageable levels. It hurts, seeing his child like this, knowing he caused it, and he lays there at night, Sammy on one side, and Dean curled up on top of him, clinging as the infection spreads, tears falling silently to soak into John's shirt.