Hey, Guys I'm still writing my other fan fiction but this just sort of came to me. I hope you like it and if you think I should write some more leave a review. Any criticism or things you like are appreciate. Please be nice, I'm new to this. Anyway thanks for reading and enjoy!

By the way Dean is 17 and Sam is 13


Sick Day

Dean sat in the back of the impala ignoring the sounds of his brother and father fighting again. He watched as the scenery flash along him as he tried to make out the patterns of the trees and houses. His head was pounding and he had felt rough all day. This cold seemed to be up for a fight, he sniffled quietly trying to avoid being heard. The coat around wasn't enough to keep him warm and all he wanted to do was to go to bed. That wasn't going to happen. Besides he couldn't tell his father, he would just tell him to suck it up. He coughed in to the collar of his jacket, hoping they would shut up. Sadly, it seemed his luck had run out.

The shouting seemed to get louder. "Can't they just shut up," mumbled Dean. Neither his brother nor father seemed to notice that Dean was in the car, too caught up in their argument. He sighed, trying to concentrate on what they were arguing about this time. Probably about school or hunting, heck it could even be about sports; they were always arguing. He yawned; maybe some sleep would give him some peace.

"Look Sammy, we've had this conversation before and no is still no," growled John.

"Fine," explained Sam.

"Good, glad we in agreement," replied John.

"But this isn't fair," muttered Sam.

"What did you say," demanded John.

"Nothing, it does matter," whispered Sam. He knew when he had lost the battle.

"That's what I thought," stated John. He sighed; sometimes Sam could be a right pain. He knew that Sam would make a fuss about the fact that they were moving, but was there really any point in arguing about it. He glanced though his mirror at Sam, who was glaring out the window. He did not look happy. He turned his head to look at his other son, "Weird," he thought, "Dean didn't stop us arguing."

Dean was always the rock in this family, stopping the arguments and keeping the peace. "Just like him mother," remembered John. He peered at his son for a moment taking in the pale grey face with a sheet of sweat, the harsh crackled breathing, the line of shivers running though him and the muttering under his breath. John slowly reverted his eyes back to the road. He would deal with Sam and Dean when they got to the motel.

As he drove into the motel and turned the engine off. "Boys," he indicated, "We out the motel." Neither of the boys spoke. Sam opened the door and slammed it behind him. He could hear the crash as Sam shut the boot. John grumbled, took a deep breath then got out of the car and stretched his legs. As he got round to the other side of the car, he spotted Dean still asleep. His breathing was fogging up the window and John could he the crackling breath from here.

Deciding to leave Dean till last he strolled into the reception and got a room, Sam grabbed the key from him and trudged along to the room. After he had put everything into the room, he went to move Dean, the kid look no better than when he last saw him, in fact he looked worst. As he opened the car door, he noticed that Dean didn't seem to be aware of anything. Strange, Dean was a light sleeper normally.

"Hey Dean," he softly spoke, "Let's get you out of this car." Dean didn't move, John moved his hand and brushed it against his forehead removing the matted hair out of his eyes. It felt like he was touching a furnace. John grabbed his son and pulled him in to a fire-man's hold. Dean was still out to the world. Now he was closer to Dean, he could hear the horrible sound that was his breathing. It sounded like it was painful and worst of all the heat radiating of him was almost as hot being near a volcano.

When he got to the room, he lay Dean down in the bed nearest the door. The sound of water was in the background indicating that Sam was in the shower. At least it meant there wasn't going to be any arguing soon. As he took off Dean's boots and jacket he could see the pain lines in his forehead. He when to his duffle bag and grabbed the med kit. He shocked Dean gently, speaking softly, trying to wake the sleeping teen. Slowly, Dean began to awake. His big, glassy eyes starred up at him confused obviously the fever was high.

"Hey buddy," whispered John, "Need to check you out okay." As John suspected a hand came to bat him away. Typically at this moment, Sam decided to appear now. "What's up with Dean?" questioned Sam.

"I'm fine Sammy," Stuttered Dean, trying to push himself up but this failed as a strong hand pushed him back down. He desperately tried to move but John refused to let him, eventually he stopped fighting and sagged into the mattress. He shut his eyes hoping John wouldn't notice. He was so tired. John looked down at him and noticed the shut eyes. Sam had moved in to the bed to get a better look at his brother.

"You okay Dean," spoke Sam as he entangled his hand with his brothers. No responses came from the tired out brother. "Hey, Dean don't fall asleep yet," instructed his father. Dean couldn't here he was back in his deep sleep. John sighed and fished out the thermometer from the med kit. He plunged it in to Dean's ear and waited it to beep. As he pulled it out and read the number; 105, this wasn't good.