Title: E/O Challenge - Ways To Handle A Sick Dean
Author: Laedie Duske
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Word Count: 100 each
Featured Word(s): Grate - Happy Birthday to Tuppence and the lovely Enkidu07! I tried for one drabble, but I couldn't get these two ideas to play nice together. My first Wee!Chester. *hides* Hope these are good enough for you!
Warnings: None
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Time to make little Sammy's lunch. Dean swallows, winces, stomach roiling, small, shaky hand on his fevered brow.
Ten-year-olds don't whine about sore throats though.
Standing at the stove, heating "skabetti-o's", too close, too warm. He turns to step away, each breath like razorblades in his throat. Eyes close, knees fold, huge arms catch him, lift him up.
"Easy kiddo, I gotcha."
Dean kicks himself, he never heard his dad come in. How could he protect Sammy if he couldn't even pay attention?
"Just my throat, sir," he grates out, ashamed.
"S'ok, you're sick, lemme worry about Sammy for now."
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Dean rubs his stomach, reminiscing. The razorblades and nausea are back with every breath, dad isn't here.
Just Sammy. And the hunt.
Sam watches from the corner of his eye. Dean's feverish, cheeks red, eyes glassy. Flinching with every swallow, living on cold coffee and ice water.
Dean tries twice before the gun slides into his waistband, shaky hands screwing his dexterity, trips over a towel, walks into the table.
"Dean, it'll still be there tomorrow," glare grates his nerves, he plows on, "or we go tonight and I'm bait. Decide."
Shaky breath, slow descent to bed. Sam medicates, covers.