Summary:1-shot. Fevered, sick, & resonating Sam's in bad shape leaving Dean to not only deal with him but everything else. Dean's problem? Remembering how hard it is to handle a sick & fevered little brother who likes to talk when he's sick. *Sick/fevered/angsty!Sam & Frustrated/tired/stressed/big brother!Dean* Spoilers for 08x21 The Great Escapist.

Warnings/Spoilers: I'll warn as always for some language since this is Dean stressed out. It also contains spoilers for Spoilers for 08x21 The Great Escapist so be forewarned.

Tags: Spoilers for 08x21 The Great Escapist.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. This is written for entertainment only.

Author Note: Writing a fevered Sammy is a lot harder than drunk Sammy let me tell you.


"No! No! No!"

Scrubbing both hands over his face in a sign of pure frustration, Dean Winchester couldn't help but wonder when his life had been reduced to this.

"Sam," he tried to both get a word into the repeated negative litany being chanted or shouted since his younger brother's voice was well above normal right then and he was trying to latch on to Sam.

Neither of those attempts were working since Sam was either tuning him out or just plain ignoring him and trying to catch his brother in the cramped room filled to the ceiling with books just wasn't working.

"Nope. Not gonna do it and you're bossy!" Sam shot back while turning at the last second to pace another direction, nearly knocking over a large stack of books if his brother hadn't managed to deflect the books.

Gritting his teeth while reminding himself that tackling Sam right then wouldn't help his situation, Dean groaned while lunging for Sam again and suddenly remembering that he hated with his little brother was sick.

"Are they always like this?" mostly keeping to himself for the last few millennia, the Angel scribe known as Metatron, wasn't used to dealing with mortals…especially not like these mortals and glanced toward a clearly confused Kevin Tran.

Kevin blinked as he watched in total amazement as someone Sam's size and as clearly off balance as he seemed could evade his older but more agile brother in such cramped quarters. "Uhhh, no," he replied and knew if he hadn't been rescued by an Angel that he might be tempted to believe these were also demon copies until he heard Dean offer a curse in a very familiar tone. "Dean? What's wrong with Sam?"

Giving up for the moment and confident that Sam wouldn't try for the door since his fevered mind seemed to be focused on leafing through a book he suddenly found fascinating, Dean turned to shoot the Prophet a dark look. "You translated half a tablet, he killed a hellhound, freed a soul and now he hasn't ate in closing in on four days and…" he glanced down at the sudden beeping from his pocket with a sigh. "…and is giving off heat waves."

"Don't forget that he's also resonating," Metatron put in, not seeming bothered by fierce glare given by the elder Winchester.

"What the hell does that even mean?" Dean couldn't hear what his brother seemed to but something about it bothered him. "You seem to get it but then you're the Messenger of God so that makes sense but…" he spun to pin the now wary young Prophet with a steely look. "Kevin, give it to me in one syllable words."

Trying to figure out what had been happening since he'd first got strung out trying to break the code of the tablet to when Crowley had grabbed him, Kevin Tran had been quiet since waking up in the book filled home of what he'd quickly come to realize was a really old and really powerful Angel…one who seemed to wear sweaters.

Now brought back into the conversation by a frustrated Dean, the younger man frowned until he could think of a way to explain this in a way Dean would understand. "Okay, try this. You know how you can hear something wrong in the Impala's engine when maybe Sam…or anyone else normal…can't? Well, that's you kind of resonating with your car.

"This is Sam, resonating with the word of God since he's taken on the trials and being close to Metatron here, is probably sounding to Sam like a freaking choir or car alarm is going off in his head while we can't hear it," he shrugged, adding. "When you got out of Hell, didn't you hear anything when you first met Castiel?"

Stopping in mid-turn, Dean's memories shot back to those times shortly after crawling out of his own grave that he'd nearly gone deaf by the loud screeching like high octave whine or sound he'd heard at least three times before finally meeting the Angel who dragged him out of the Pit.

"Shit. This is so not good," he'd been having increasing doubts about what these trials were doing to his brother but between finding out about this to Sam saying how these trials were 'cleansing' him that his concern was tripling.

Then it went up into overdrive when he looked and realized Sam wasn't were he'd left him. "Sonuvabitch!" he snapped, seeing the open door and hitting the hall just in time to grab Sam before he could enter the elevator. "Hey, where you going, Sammy?"

"Goin' to go track…the manager," Sam tried to tell his brother, words more than a little slurred as he caught Dean's jacket with both hands. "He's…creepy and…if he's creepy…he's up to no…I forget."

Sticking his tongue into his cheek, Dean shook his head while trying to get his 6'4" younger brother back down the hall toward the room they'd rented while shooting Kevin a 'stay put' look. "No, but he is older than both of us put together so we'll leave the creepy manager dude alone and get you back into that ice water," he tried to sound reasonable but was quickly reminded of why he'd hated it when his brother got to this point of sickness.

When Sam was at the point of casual sickness or injury then he was cranky to the point of Dean wanting to slap him in the head. When he was sick to the point of throwing up all night and just plain miserable then he was more agreeable to his brother's help but would quickly become cranky but Sam was now at the point that Dean had only seen a few times.

Extreme sickness or when he was raging with a fever high enough to send the heat sensor in Dean's pocket into overdrive meant that Sam was in the stage where he was clingy, emotional, cranky, unreasonable and just plain sick.

It also meant he tended to be mouthy, much like he'd get if he drank too much but this time Dean was positive his brother hadn't drank a fifth of whiskey, especially when he could barely get water down the kid…much less food.

"No…no water," Sam tried to twist free but this time Dean knew what to expect and was able to maintain his grasp long enough to at least get Sam back to the room and let him fall back on his bed with a bounce that had his brother laughing. "Dean!"

"Man, we've gotta get back on the road so maybe you'll quit hearing whatever it is you're hearing," Dean muttered, debating on just putting Sam back in the tub that was still filled with ice water and just as quickly disregarded that plan since he didn't want his own face broke. "Stay, Sam!"

Giving the order in a short and hard tone that normally made Sam listen, Dean didn't miss the sulk as he stepped into the bathroom to wet a couple washcloths.

"Not a puppy," Sam mumbled but stayed on the bed, letting himself fall back to stare at the oddly moving ceiling. "Hey!" he called even though his brother was back right beside him. "De!"

"Yeah, Sammy?" surprised at how his voice shook at the use of his brother's childhood nickname for him back when Sam was learning to talk and couldn't fully pronounce 'Dean' yet.

Normally when Sam was sick he'd shorten the name as he'd figured out how to do but he hadn't actually used the full nickname in more than twenty-five years and Dean wasn't sure he liked the reason he was now.

"Where…you…?" turning his feverish eyes away from the ceiling as if to look for his brother, Sam's hand suddenly shot out to latch onto the wrist of the hand that was attempting to wipe his face with an ice cold cloth. "There you are!"

Knowing the strength Sam usually had, Dean's frown at the weak grip that had grabbed his wrist was worried as he sat down on the edge of the bed while pulling out the thermometer and holding it out. "Yep, I'm right here, little brother," he murmured, plopping the device in as Sam opened his mouth to speak. "Keep that under your tongue and I'll get you a popsicle or something once we leave here."

Remembering that bribery had once worked so well, Dean knew he wasn't below stooping to that level again since while he was once again given a nearly full bitch face of dislike Sam did keep the thermometer in his mouth long enough to get a full reading.

"101.8, huh," Dean bit his lower lip while using another close to wipe it back over his brother's too long sweat soaked hair. "We need to cool you down, Sammy. You're getting to that danger spot again."

Now that they were away from the short beaded sweater wearing Scribe of God, some of the ringing had gone away but his fever was still up and for some reason, Sam was more focused on the memories that were flashing in his head than on the true concern in Dean's voice.

"Hey, you 'member when you were seven and you…saved your lunch…money up that Dad would give you for a whole month so you…could buy candy?" Sam heard the groan but when he finally had the strength to push the suddenly icy cold rag off his face where it had just dropped he'd missed the look of surprise Dean had given him. "Then…when I fell…at the playground and ripped my knee up you bought me ice cream instead?"

"Damn it, Sam. I can barely remember when you were that small so why all of a sudden are you doing the trip down memory lane?" Dean knew this wasn't a good thing, just had that cold ball of fear in his gut but supposed so long as Sam's memories weren't of the bad times in both of their lives then he could stand it. "Yeah, well, you had ripped both your knees to pieces that time and I just wanted to make you stop crying until Dad cleaned you up," he muttered, tensing when the hand still gripping his wrist tightened.

"Even when Dad yelled about you not using the money for lunch?" Sam knew even fevered when to back off of a topic and just as quickly was offering a funny looking smile while twisting on the bed until he was nearly laying sideways. "Hey, tell you a secret?" he giggled like he did when he'd been small but reached up a blind hand to find Dean's shirt to yank him closer to his face. "It's…HUGE!"

"Okay, that does it," Dean knew when his brother's fever had spiked and quickly hefted Sam off the bed with a grunt and a curse about where in the hell his once baby brother had gotten not only his height but his weight from. "Time for you to chill out…literally."

Sam managed to reach up a long arm to wrap it around Dean's neck while his brother struggled to get him the few steps into the bathroom without both of them falling into the claw footed tub filled with fresh ice. "De! I gotta tell you omething'."

Swearing he was gutting the next demon or angel who crossed his path for even making these trials a part of their lives, Dean swung out a quick hand to steady himself before trying to lower Sam into the water without forcing his brother into shock. "Fine!" he finally gave in while slowly lowering his surprisingly docile little brother into the icy water. "What do you have to tell me that is so damn important that it can't wait?"

Eyes going huge as soon as he went into the water fully clothed, Sam gasped but kept his grip on his brother's forearm while watching Dean through eyes that were also glossy from shock but there seemed to be an almost childish mischievous glint that warned Dean that he probably wasn't going to like this.

Sam laughed again like he did when fevered or drunk and as he let himself sink under the ice he locked onto Dean's wary eyes. "Caleb took me…to see strippers when I was fourteen," he couldn't resist the burst of giggles as he sank, missing the look of pure shock that came over his older brother's face.

Dean had been expecting some childish secret or plot that Sam had played as a kid or even some stupid thing he'd done at Stanford. Those were things he knew his pain in the ass little brother was capable of doing even though Sam had always been the more serious one.

The second Sam revealed his all-so important secret however made Dean nearly lose the grip he'd kept on Sam's arm after lowering him into the tub because he was pretty sure all the blood in his body had just rushed to his head because while it was fine what he and Caleb got up to as teenagers it sure as hell was not all right with Dean that his friend had taken his little brother to see…

"What the hell do you mean Caleb took you to see strippers?" he demanded, pulling Sam's head and shoulders out of the water enough to see his eyes were still too huge and his fever wasn't dropping as quickly as it had before which worried Dean but right then he was still too livid. "When the hell did Caleb take you to a damn strip club?"

Blinking water from his eyes while managing to blow a bubble with the water he'd swallowed, Sam's smile was still too bright to be normal and way too smug which allowed his pissed off but still worried brother to know his mind was still back in time.

"You 'member that time I'd been sick but Dad wanted you to go on the hunt for the woman in white down in Texas?" Sam gave a tug that made Dean go forward so he could go back under water. "He said he was bored but since he was 'Sammy-sitting' he had to take me and he snuck me in. Caleb was cool, De."

"Caleb would be dead if he wasn't already," Dean growled, pulling his laughing brother up again and swore that this was like a game to Sam right then. "Hey, motor-mouth, look up at me. Caleb, my friend Caleb who knew I watched over you like a hawk despite how I teased you, took you to a damn strip club because he was bored?"

Right then and there Dean swore to find a psychic with real power to pull up his friend so he could rip him a new one for this little piece of news. Not that Dean's outrage was helped by the laughing brother who thought this was so funny. "Sammy…you did not just do that."

"Caleb said…you'd never take me to one even though you went," ignoring the growl that splashing his brother with ice cold water elicited, Sam gave a small bitch face as if that upset him. "Dad took you he said but you wouldn't take me so he said it was his sworn hunter duty to see that I was…initiated into the fine art of…hey, you took Cas to one so why'd you never take me?"

Letting go to allow Sam to fall back into the water, Dean closed his eyes while blowing out a hard breath and trying to figure out how this whole mess had gotten turned around on him. "Hel-lo? Dad probably went to one or two, though that is something I do not want in my head, but he sure as hell never took me to my first strip club.

"Actually Caleb and I snuck out to one when we were probably sixteen but you were just fourteen and no way in hell were you close to going to one," Dean ignored the smirk since he knew his little brother had always been advanced but still had issues with picturing what goes one in one mixing with Sammy's innocence. "I took Castiel that one time because I was…mad and I never took you, in fact I made sure to never give you the chance to go with me because you are my little brother.

"Sure, it was my job to show you the ropes, take you to places that Dad…and Pastor Jim would've killed me for, cover for you the first time you stayed out with a girl to hopefully get lucky but…as much as I loved you and would've done anything for you…no. There was no way I'd take you to a strip club," in his way of thinking those were fine for him but not for his little brother when his own first time came back in his mind and he frowned.

"Sammy? What the hell did Caleb mean that it was his duty to get you initiated?" Dean wasn't stupid. He was Sam's brother and knew almost everything about the kid but if he learned that his friend had introduced his fourteen year old kid brother to sex before Dean believed had been Sam's first time then he was definitely bringing Caleb's ass back long enough to have a fight.

Staying under the water for a long while as his skin slowly began to cool down and his mind also began to come back under his control, Sam realized what he must have said because now he felt his face flushing but not from fever.

Easing up so his head and shoulders were above the melting ice, Sam took in the heat in his older brother's eyes and was glad that Dean couldn't get Caleb within shooting range this time. "I think he just meant to show me girls like that cause he didn't let anything happen…well, like that, I mean," he coughed and started to push up only to have a light touch on his chest keep him in the water a little longer.

"He said I'd enjoy it and I guess it was alright but at fourteen I didn't understand it all…hell, I didn't understand all that I'd seen done on that stage until I got to Stanford and needed some extra money and…Dean, don't break that," the younger man knew the way his brother's muscles had bunched on his arm what was going to happen soon as that little bit of unintended information sank in. "You know I was sixteen when I…umm, how did we get on this topic?" he asked in a hasty change of topic.

Dean's fingers had clenched on the sink as it hit home what Sam was alluding to and once again he swore that he hadn't been able to help Sam out more while he was in school because he sure as hell did not need that image floating around his head, especially when it brought up that little old lady who'd done everything but proposition his brother that time on that case with Bella.

"You talk way too much when your fever spikes, Sammy," slowly getting his fingers unclenched, Dean took a good look to see that while Sam's eyes were still shadowed they didn't seem quite as glassy or large which he knew was a good sign. "Ready to come outta there, Frosty?"

"Yeah, I think so," Sam felt the firm grip on his arm as he was helped out of the water and knew only Dean's fast grab kept him standing as his legs buckled once he was in the bedroom. "Where's Kevin?" he didn't like leaving the Prophet this soon but suddenly shivered as the cold of his clothes seemed to sink into his skin.

Seeing the hard shiver go through his brother, Dean grabbed for the blanket off his bed to wrap around Sam while nudging his shoulder as a way to urge him to lay down. "I left him having serious Angel/Prophet talk with our Transformer angel," he shrugged, knowing he was deliberately misusing Metatron's name but released a tight breath as Sam's small dry smile. "I'll check on him in a minute. After I get you settled."

A little embarrassed that he was weak to the point of needing his brother for even the simplest things, Sam bit back the refusal because he knew that (A) he needed the help, (B) Dean needed to help and (C) if he needed to take help from anyone then it'd be his brother.

"When…when're we going to go do this?" he asked, yawning as sleep seemed to want to come on now that he wasn't burning with fever. "I want to get this over with, Dean. I need to do this."

Dean knew that but he still couldn't get it out of his head that this thing was not going to end well for them, but his biggest concern was for his brother who still looked so weak that it was all Dean could do not to call this whole damn thing off but knew it was too late for that.

"As soon as you get some sleep. When you wake up we'll take off to see where this leads us," he replied, making sure the blanket was covering Sam fully then let his fingers card back through Sam's hair like he would when his brother was a child and swallowed the sudden lump. "You go to sleep and I'll go check on Kevin."

Sam murmured something as he flipped more to his stomach then suddenly he lifted his head to look for Dean just as he was touching the doorknob. "Dean?"

"Yeah?" looking back, the innocent but all too powerful puppy dog eyes were staring at him and again Dean wished he had never taught that move to his brother. "What's up? You need something?"

"You promised popsicles…don't forget," Sam yawned then fell back to sleep, missing the look or pure big brother on Dean's face.

"Yeah, little brother, I'll get you some once we're on the road," Dean promised, closing the door with a click while leaning against it with a sigh.

Sam's fever was down for the moment and he just had to hope that the third trial could be accomplished before anything else happened to his brother because Dean wasn't sure how much more either of them could take.

"Hey, Kev…talk to me about how exactly we're supposed to 'cure' a demon thing," Dean stepped back into Metatron's room but left the door partially open so he could hear if Sam needed him.

As Kevin and the Scribe both began talking at the same time, Dean rolled his eyes and wished for a time when his dealings with angels and Prophets just meant Cas and Chuck. "One at a time, guys," he urged, thinking of something Metatron said to him and just wondered what might change if they did do this but the risk to Sam now told Dean that he couldn't worry about that…at least not yet since he'd do anything if it meant help his brother get through this.

"Kevin, use small words or I'm not buying you anymore junk food either," he sighed, ignoring the cold hand on his heart as he tried to plan four steps ahead of what might try to stop them and hoped he could.

The End

A/NII: Thanks for reading this tag and I certainly hope everyone enjoyed it. Sammy does seem to like to talk when sick so I'm sure Dean is not happy with what he learned…of course the little plot bunnies may take those and run with it as well.

So be sure to look for my page on FaceBook under Supernatural Fan Fiction by morgana07 since I love hearing from readers and I always answer a question if any are had.