Dad had been gone for a few days now and that only meant one thing...well a couple things, but really one thing: watch Sammy. Protect Sammy. Even if he was sixteen, and could care for himself in the form of taking down a werewolf, I have always felt the need to keep an eye on my not-so-little, little brother.

I drummed my hands aimlessly on the table to a Led Zeppelin song, using my other hand to scroll through countless online news pages. I heard the lock click behind me and was content in knowing that Sam was home. I clicked on a news article that looked promising and grabbed for my glass of water.

"How was school Sammy?"

I put my glass of water to my lips and looked around at the unexplained quiet. "Sammy?"

I looked behind me to find Sammy curled into himself on the couch. If anyone knew anything about my brother, he rarely sleeps-always up doing something AP-and he never takes naps.

I got up from my spot at the table and shook Sam by the shoulder. He grunted indignantly. "Dean just let me sleep." I eyed him suspiciously. "You okay?"

He nodded. "Just tired."

I guess even super nerds needed the occasional sleep so I let it be and went back to finding possible cases.

As six o'clock came and went and I let Sam sleep through dinner it seemed apparent something was off. A three hour nap? For Sam? I don't think so.

I walked up by the couch and gently palmed his forehead and frowned at the unusual warmth. I inwardly groaned. Sammy cannot get sick. Not this week. Not when Dad wasn't home. Not that he provided much help, but at least he was present.

I shook him slightly. "Sam, come on. Lets get you to bed."

He nodded sleepily and walked groggily with me to the back bedroom. (Dad had actually found a decent place to stay low for awhile). I walked back to the table and shut down the computer; done with research for the night.

I heard feet running and leapt for the knife under my pillowcase, unsure as to what would have woken me at...I glanced at the clock: 3:51 in the morning. I groaned at the green digital numbers and leaned back on my pillow. I heard coughing from the hallway and jumped to a sitting position. "Sammy."

I saw the light under the bathroom and knocked on the door. "Sam?"
Coughing turned into retching. "Sam." I said through the crack of the door. "Im coming in." With no protest, only the sound of vomiting, I pushed open the door and slid to my knees next to him. I brushed the bangs of his hair back, as they were sticking to his forehead and with my other hand rubbed at the small of his back. He lurched forward again and I grabbed his forehead before it smacked into porcelain. When he seemed finished he laid his cheek on the seat and closed his eyes. I rubbed up and down his back, trying to comfort him.

I got up from the ground and grabbed a little Dixie cup from underneath the counter and filled it with water. I handed it off to Sam who drank it all in one gulp.

"Come on lets get you to bed Sammy."