Okay so this is filling a prompt on Oh sams birthday comment fic meme!
PROMPT: It shouldn't have been a big deal. Dean and Sam had squatted in boarded up houses plenty of times. This shouldn't have been any different.
This time, though, they needed a warded room. Before it could be warded, though, the walls and floors had to be cleaned. Dean left the cleaning and warding to Mr. Neat Freak OCD symbol dictionary and went out to interview witnesses.
It isn't until weeks later that the symptoms start, and it isn't until days after that, when Sam can't breathe, that they finally understand the consequences. Hanta virus.
Sam and Dean had just driven into a quiet town to investigate a series of mysterious deaths and they had been forced to stay in some long-abandoned house. It wasn't exactly 5-star accommodation but it would do; besides they'd squatted in tonnes of houses before so this shouldn't be any different. Yet they both knew it was of course, this time they were being hunted down by heaven and hell alike and that meant only one thing: warding and lots of it. Cas had put the angel warding on their ribs but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Only one problem: they needed the room to be clean before they could put up the protection. However what they were stuck with couldn't be further from "clean;" there were what looked like rat or mouse droppings everywhere, the rooms were covered top to toe in layers of dust and the place stank of stale piss.
"Well Sammy, looks like you're going to have your work cut out for you today" Dean said with a smirk as he picked up his jacket and keys.
"What Dean? You're not leaving!"
"Well someone's got to interview the neighbours, better you stay here and clean up while I go out, that way you won't get caught up in your creepy OCD neatness obsession thing"
"Deann," Sam pulled his best bitchface but Dean was already out of the door. He didn't see any point in wasting time feeling sorry for himself, so he just got on and cleaned until the room was unrecognisable from the thing they had entered that morning. In fact, he had been so engrossed in his hard work that he hadn't noticed the time, looking at his phone now he could see that Dean had been gone awhile. Don't panic, he told himself, he's probably just busy. Sam quickly dialled Dean's number and waited for Dean to pick up, he got a reply on the third ring.
"hey sam, what's going on?" Sam could only just hear Dean, it sounded like Dean was with a bunch of people, "I'm kinda in the middle of something?"
"Where are you? Who's that with you?" Sam asked, he was relieved that Dean sounded fine and unhurt but was still curious about what Dean could have being doing for so long.
"Got a bit distracted," Dean said as Sam heard feminine giggling on the other end of the phone line. He sighed as he put two and two together, "Gotta go, see you later" Dean said and then promptly hung up, leaving Sam alone to finish the warding.
It was weeks later and Sam and Dean were staying in a lousy motel waiting for any news on the angels; they still hadn't heard from Cas. Sam had woken up feeling not that great, he felt sore and achy all over especially his back.
Dean could tell something was up with Sam, he was moving much more slowly than usual and every so often he would catch Sam covering up a wince that he obviously hadn't meant to show.
"Hey man, you feeling okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam grunted.
"You sure? Cause it looks like you're in pain. You hurt anywhere?" Dean started to move towards Sam, noticing his flushed face and drooping eyes.
"Yeah, my backs just a bit sore, must have slept on it funny." Sam hoped his reply would be enough for Dean to stop worrying. If he told him the truth, that he felt shivery and that he felt more and more exhausted as the minutes ticked by, he knew that he'd be tucked in bed with Dean hovering over him with endless pills and soup before he even knew what was going on.
Two days later and he was regretting not saying anything to Dean. Everywhere ached, he felt dizzy all the time and was currently leaning over the toilet trying to be as quiet as he could while he retched not wanting to wake Dean up at 3 in the morning.
Unfortunately, it seemed as if his plan hadn't worked because a few minutes later, Sam heard the door creak open and weakly lifted his head to see Dean walk in and crouch next to him.
"Aww Sammy, you should have told me you were feeling so bad," Dean wished Sam had told him about this, he always used to tell him if he was sick or hurt. Now though, Dean had to force his little brother to tell him what was going on it that freakish body of his.
"You nauseous? Dizzy?" Sam groaned and nodded his head. God he felt like shit. "Does it hurt anywhere?" Dean listened for Sam's response as he looked around the grubby bathroom for their well-used thermometer.
"My tummy hurts a bit," Sam said, sounding lost and God if that didn't break Dean's heart.
"Okay champ, open up," Sam did as Dean asked and felt the thermometer in his mouth a moment later. He just wanted to sleep…
"nuh uh Sammy. You can go to sleep in a bit, let's just get you cleaned up and some medicine in you. You think you're okay to stand?"
Sam wasn't sure but he'd give it a go, he wasn't going to mope around on the floor all night. He grabbed Dean's hand and pushed himself up, using the toilet as support.
Once settled in bed after taking some pills, Sam dozed off into a fitful sleep; leaving Dean awake and trying to ignore the feeling in his gut that this was more than just a stomach bug.