[b]Author:[/b] pamela
[b]Title:[/b] Fever
[b]Rating:[/b] PG
[b]Fandom:[/b] Supernatural
[b]Disclaimer:[/b] No disrespect intended. No money made.
[b]Summary:[/b] Dean is sick but this could be a good thing
[b]Pairing:[/b] Dean and Imp. Sorta
[b]Warning:[/b] maybe the urine bottle is iffy
[b]Feedback:[/b] Feedback would be lovely, thank you.
[b]Archive:[/b] VX and FF
[b]Note:[/b] If you wake up in the middle of the night, take notes. Thanks to Bitten for the beta.
Dean crept as quietly as he could down the stairs and out the door. If he hadn't been so damn sick he would have known he'd been loud enough to wake everyone in the house. Instead he simply stumbled to his car and groaned.
"Dean Winchester, what do you think you are doing?"
"Sshh," Dean reached for the front door handle.
"You are not driving me in your condition," Imp growled. "there's no cause to anyway."
"Hush, Imp, please."
"Dean?" Imp gasped.
Dean gave up on the front door and tried the back.
"Can you hear me?" Imp whispered.
"Of course I can hear you. Ah …" the door opened. "Thank God."
"What are you doing?"
"Need to rest."
"Go to bed," Imp ordered.
Dean climbed in the back seat, "am."
"In the house, Dean."
He pulled the door closed and groaned at the noise.
"Oh," Imp winced and looked around. "Sweetheart, go back in the house."
"Don't want to," he shifted around and curled up. "Want to stay with you."
"Oh honey, but you're sick."
"Staying."
Imp sighed, "you should be resting."
"Am," Dean laid his head down. "Missed you."
"I'm always here with you."
"You don't talk to me anymore."
"I do talk to you." Imp almost snapped but kept it hushed so his head didn't hurt more. "You just can't hear me anymore."
"Why?"
"I don't know," Imp admitted. "You grew up I guess."
"I wish I didn't."
Imp laughed quietly, "if you hadn't who would drive me? Who would take care of me? Who would love me?"
"I love you."
"I know you do," Imp smiled. "I love you too."
Dean snuggled down deeper but shivered.
Imp watched Sam open the door gently and half climb in to tuck a blanket around Dean.
"Imp the best in the world," Dean slurred.
"She sure is."
Imp smiled at them and sighed as Sam felt Dean's face. "He very sick," she stated even though Sam couldn't hear her. "I wish he was in the house."
"NO!" Dean struggled against the blanket. "Won't go! Won't go! Stay. Want to stay!"
"It's okay. Dean, no relax. You can stay but you have to … you have to be good." Sam looked at Bobby hovering at the door. "Dean, you have to be good."
"I be good," Dean promised.
"Okay. Good. That's good. Um, here you have to keep covered, okay?"
"Okay."
"Good."
Imp watched worriedly. Sam sounded scared and frustrated. She'd watched him and Bobby pull Dean back into the house twice already today.
"I'm going to start the engine so I can get the heater going, okay?"
" 'kay."
"My exhaust is hampered," Imp worried.
"It's okay," Dean promised, making Sam look at him strangely.
"Dean, sweetheart, remind Sam to check the exhaust."
"Imp says to check her exhaust," Dean mumbled.
Imp watched Sam's eyes widen and then narrow and she sighed.
"Um, okay," Sam started the engine and then climbed out to walk around the exterior.
Bobby helped him clear the snow and Imp listened.
"He thinks the car is talking to him."
"It's the fever, Sam. He may not get sick often but when he does …" Bobby sighed. "Once the antibiotics really kick in he'll be fine," the older man promised. "I just wish he'd stay in the house."
"Me too, but he won't and the way his mind is ... I don't want to chance a real fight with him."
"Yeah. Well, back her up. She won't all fit in with a ford but we can keep the exhaust clear of this storm."
"Right. I'll take the first shift."
"I'll get you some coffee."
"Thanks."
SNSNSN
Dean was restless and startled awake enough for Sam to put half the front seat back so he could watch him better and hold his hand. Imp purred softly and soothed when he woke. Watching the snow fall and keeping an eye on the snow that blew into the covered work area. The wind wasn't too bad but the snow was really piling up.
Bobby took over after two hours and then Sam came back as the night deepened. Extra socks and blankets, even a hot brick wrapped in a blanket. Through it all Dean floated in that weird place his brain went to when he got sick; some times he talked to Imp but mostly it was beyond her too.
Finally the fever broke about dawn and Dean roused enough to use the urine bottle. She knew he'd sleep for a couple more days but … She didn't like it that Dean was sick but it was nice to be heard again. "I love you sweety,"
"I know you do," Dean reached out and pressed a hand against her glass.
"Dean?" Imp startled slightly.
"Dean, you okay?" Sam worried.
"I'm fine, Sam," Dean promised, sounding perfectly lucid. "How you holding up, Imp?"
"You can still hear me?"
"Dean?" Sam squawked.
"It's a little fuzzy," he admitted, "but yeah."
"Dean?" Sam was starting to freak out.
"Relax, Sammy. Imp?"
"My exhaust is clear but my tank is nearly empty," Imp admitted. "I only have a couple of gallons left."
"I don't want to leave you," Dean sighed.
"You need to be in a proper bed. I'll be here when you're better."
Dean sighed. "Sam, shut off her engine. Let's get inside."
Sam didn't argue but did frown as Dean stroked the seat one last time as he climbed out. "Dean?"
But Dean only shook his head and staggered into the house.
SNSNSN
It was four days before Bobby and Sam would allow Dean out of the house but it was no surprise that he went straight to the car. She had some gas from Bobby's reserve tank and they'd started her up the day before, when the the temp dropped to double digit lows. But still no surprise.
Dean climbed in and just sat there and stroked the wheel.
"I really hope that stupid fever left me with the right kind of brain damage. Imp? Come on baby, talk to me. Please?"
Imp prayed really, really hard. "How do you feel?"
"How do I feel!" Dean laughed and shouted. "Baby girl!"
Imp laughed and Sam opened the door.
"Dean what's wrong?"
Dean could only laugh and Imp giggled.