Dean shivered as he sat in their latest motel. He let out a small cough that seemed to just burn the back of his throat. His throat felt like it was about to be ripped out of his body thanks to how sore it was. It as as if he swallowed salt and fire and it didn't mix very well. His head also felt like someone had stuffed him with cotton in his ears and nose. His ears were itchy and just hot. Then again, his entire face felt puffy and hot with fever.
It was official. Dean Winchester was sick.
"Hey, you okay, dude?"
The only thing that was absolutely bearable about this was that Sam was still there. He was sitting on the other bed on his computer as usual, but at least he was there. He was trying to help his brother out by getting him soup, tissues, and numerous medicines that were supposed to help with all of this. But, he hadn't seen his brother this sick in a long time and it actually startled Sam more than he would care to admit.
Dean looked up and sighed heavily. "Whadt do you think, Sab," he spat back in frustration.
Sam looked away. He knew that his brother was just frustrated that he was feeling this way and that he was too sick to actually be effective on a hunt. There was also no one else that Dean could take out his frustrations on. Sam tried to remind himself of that before he spoke to Dean again.
"Is there anything that I can do? Do you want the extra box of tissues? I can hardly understand you," Sam suggested as he looked back to meet his brother's gaze.
Dean thought for a moment before he nodded. He coughed into a raised fist and rocked back and forth. He felt his skin prickling as if ants were running over him. He wasn't sure if tissues were going to do much for him, but he knew that Sam was right. He could hardly understand himself, but he was sure that it wouldn't make a bit of difference.
Sam jumped from his spot on the bed and grabbed more tissues from the plastic bag. He brought it back over to him and handed it over. Dean swiped it away and pressed a handful against his stuffy and overflowing nose. It was as if he was congested and yet his nose was running too. He was getting the short end of the stick with both afflictions.
He blew his nose and was able to get a little gunk out. He crumpled it up and set it aside before he leaned back with his eyes slightly closed, sighing loudly. He coughed once more as his body gave a massive shiver.
Sam picked it up and noticed that Dean was only wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants. No wonder he was cold. Sam was wearing a flannel, t-shirt, and jeans and he was a little cold.
Against Sam's better judgement, he stretched out a hand and rested it on Dean's head. Dean hissed in surprise as his head swiveled over to his brother. "What the hell are you doing," he grumbled.
"I'm testing you for fever," Sam replied matter-of-factly.
Dean pulled away harshly and Sam was about to ask what that was about when his body went rigid. Sam instantly thought that something was wrong before Dean lifted a hand to his face and buckled forward.
"HtcsHshSH! HtCshshSH! HtcsHshSH!"
"Yeah, you sound like you need these," Sam murmured as he pushed the tissues box closer to his brother with a slick flicker of his eyes.
Dean huffed as he ripped more tissues from the box, almost tossing it aside roughly. "I guess 'bless you' isn't in your vocabulary," Dean quipped smartly.
"Don't be an ass, Dean, just because you're sick," Sam muttered back with his eyes slightly narrowed. Two could play this game and Dean wasn't as sharp or as energetic as he usually was. This was someone that Sam could absolute beat with wits at the moment.
Dean knew that he was being an ass to Sam and he couldn't help it. He just felt terrible. Instead he blew his nose once more and was able to take a small breath. "F-Freezing," he stammered with his jaw slightly clenched in an effort for his teeth not to chatter.
Sam looked down at his giant hoodie. He sighed a bit before he pulled off his large, dark brown hoodie. He pulled it over his head and threw it to his brother. Dean caught it and looked at it in surprise. "Whadt's dis," he asked.
"It's my hoodie. You're cold. Wear it," Sam told him as he turned to the counter and walked over. He grasped the medicine and started to measure it out before he heard Dean start to pull the sweatshirt over his head in an effort to warm himself up.
Sam smiled to himself mischievously before he turned with the medicine cup in hand. He walked over to Dean slowly and sat on the side of the bed and handed it to his brother. "Here," Sam offered.
"I dond't deed thadt," Dean argued.
"I beg to differ. You sound like you're being choked and you have a fever. I don't want it to spike and your coughing is annoying as hell. Just take it," Sam told him firmly. Sometimes that was the only way to get Dean to do something was almost force it down his throat, literally.
Dean took the medicine from Sam and almost spilled it in the process. He used his other hand to steady it before he brought it to his lips. He swallowed it down in one go and then handed it back to his brother roughly, a grimace on his face. Sam set it aside as he watched Dean rub his sleeve under his nose. Sam tried not to cringe. He would have to remember to wash his hoodie once Dean was finished with it.
Sam was about to ask Dean if he needed anything else when he heard his brother's desperate hitching. His eyes were also jammed closed while his nostrils flared with each breath. Sam instantly reached for the tissue box, but Dean beat him to it.
"HtcshHSSH! HtcHShshSH! HuhtcsHshS!"
Sam coouldn't believe his eyes. Dean had just sneezed into the sleeve of his hoodie. When Dean drew his hands from it, a few spots still clung to the sleeve. Dean sniffed and looked around bashfully. "Tissues," he croaked quietly.
Sam didn't comment on the sleeve as he handed the tissues over. Dean cleaned up his face before blowing his nose with a productive honk. He leaned back in the bed and continued to shiver with his eyes squeezed shut.
He looked so pathetic in front of Sam. In fact, Sam could just tell that Dean's fever had to be spiking from the way that he was shivering and shaking even in a sweatshirt. He knew that sweatshirt. It was one of the warmest things that he had ever worn in his life so something had to be seriously wrong with his brother. Not to mention how the fever must be affecting his joints and the rest of him. Dean was not in good shape.
"Dean, can I do anything," Sam questioned.
"C-Cold," Dean managed to stammer, even though sweat clung to his upper lip.
That didn't help Sam out much. He wasn't sure what Dean wanted him to do about it. He set his jaw, deep in thought before he reached over and pulled the covers even more over his brother's shaking body.
Before Sam even realized what was happening, Dean pulled him forward. Sam crashed on the bed on top of Dean. Sam shook his head to clear it in surprise as he propped himself up and looked over to Dean.
"Dean, what the hell," he snapped in surprise.
Dean looked almost embarrassed. "S-Sorry. Just c-cold," he stammered with his teeth still chattering. "And yo-you're warm." He gave another sniff as he turned his head to the side. "HuhtcshSHs!"
Sam nodded as he stifled a sigh. He rolled himself onto his back and pressed against Dean. Dean instead almost reached over and pulled Sam closer. It only took a few moments for Dean to stop shivering and Sam was actually relieved. This was the most peaceful that he had seen Dean in a few months.
Well, if that was what it took, that was fine by Sam. If Dean was okay and he was okay that was all that he could ask for.