Its nearly 1 am and I can't sleep, so what better time to sit down and write some crazy story about Sam and Dean

Please forgive any errors; my brain stopped working hours ago. I apologise if this has been done before and if Sam, Dean and John are a bit out of character.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters associated with Supernatural -sob-

Fever Dreams of Giant Hands

It wasn't often that Sam got sick. The kid had some kind of amazing immune thing going on. As far back as Dean could remember, the worst illness Sam had ever had was the chicken pox when he was ten, but it wasn't until Dean was 19 that he realised that Sam plus fever equalled hilarious.

Yes, Dean knew it was wrong to laugh at his sick brother, but Dean figured if it wasn't life threatening and if Sam wasn't going to remember it afterwards, surely it couldn't be too bad to have a quiet chuckle at his brothers expense? What else was he supposed to do while cooped up in some crappy hotel that didn't even have pay-per-view, I mean come on!

Dean held a secret stash of Sammy memories, which he kept, tucked away in the corners of his mind. Things he would think back to when his geek brother was being a real pain in the arse. Not just Sam's crazy fever dreams, but his first attempt at drinking, his first kiss (which Dean teased him mercilessly about "Sam, how could you miss a girls lips??", "Shut up Dean, she's just tall", "Aww, the runt's too short to kiss is own girlfriend"), but it was the incident when Dean was 19 that stuck out the most.

Dean, Sam and their father had been hunting a spirit in Georgeton Falls. It had been making a nuisance of its self in an old home under going renovations. It had been the middle of winter and the pool outside had a thin layer of ice coating its surface.

As hunts sometimes did, this one had gone sour. The spirit had become angry and Winchesters had been thrown. Sam and Dean had both been thrown through the glass sliding door and out into the snow. Sam skidded along a few meters before coming to a stop in the middle of the small yard.

"You ok Sammy?" Dean had called out, standing and rubbing at his new bruises. He had turned in Sam's direction and watched as Sam stood up, then promptly disappear.

"SAMMY!" Dean had rushed to where his brother had been standing only to find a small pile of banked up snow and a hole where his brother had been standing.

Suddenly his younger brother appeared again, splashing to the surface. Dean had grabbed his brothers flailing hands and pulled Sam out of the water and onto a more secure patch of snow.

"Crap Sam, we've got to get you inside," Dean pulled Sam to his feet and dragged his shaking, stuttering brother back towards the house. Sam's lips where turning a frightening shade of white.

In the living room, Dean had pulled a rug off a one of the chairs and wrapped it around Sam. He hoped that their dad had finished with the spirit so they could get out of there and back to their hotel so that Sam could warm up.

As if he'd heard Dean's thoughts, John had appeared in the hallway. His hair dishevelled and his gun was still smoking from the rock salt rounds he'd fired.

"What happened?" he'd asked.

Sam had tried to answer him but his teeth were chattering and Dean could barely understand a word he'd been saying. "F-f-f-fel-l-l in t-t-t-h p-oo-l."

John had looked at Dean with one eyebrow raised. "He fell in the pool," Dean had had to clarify.

"Well come on, we need to get back and warm him up before he gets sick."

Which was exactly what had happened.

The Winchester's had returned to the hotel and Sam had been stripped of his wet clothes, but for all their efforts and haste Sam had developed a fever by the next morning.

Dean remembered it like it was yesterday. It had started with a sulky Sam, throwing his covers off and complaining that he just couldn't use them.

Dean had watched on as his father had attempted to tuck his little brother in yet again.

"No!" Sam had cried. "They're evil."

John and Dean and shared a disbelieving look.

"What do you mean Sammy?" Dean had asked. "They're sheets."

Sam had sat up, his eyes were wide and his cheeks were pink with fever.

"That's what they want you to think," He'd cried. His voice had dropped to a low whisper, as if he had been afraid the sheets in question could hear him. "That's what they want you to think. Tuck you all in nice and cosy then they wait til you're sleeping and tie you up in knots!!"

Dean had chuckled at that. Sam had always been a messy sleeper. He was all limbs and those limbs tended to get caught in the sheets. Trust him to pick up on that in his fevered state.

"You have to do it Dean."

Lost in his own thoughts Dean had almost missed what Sam had muttered.

"Do what Sam?"

"It"

"It?"

"Yes!"

Dean was confused. "What's it?" He'd asked his delusional brother.

Sam's eyes had widened ever further. "You know… the thing we do… to make evil things go away".

This had had Dean clutching his stomach laughing. Even John had given a chuckle from his seat beside Sam's bed.

"You want us to exorcise your sheets?"

Sam had nodded so hard that he reminded Dean of those bobble head dolls people put in their cars.

With another chuckle John had stood. "Ok Sam, we'll do something about your sheets. Abra-"

"Wait!" Sam had interrupted John.

"What is it?" Dean has asked.

"We need salt, lots of salt." Sam spread his hands out in front of him to gesture at the sheets. "Can't you see them getting ready for another attack?" He'd asked. "I need salt!"

Dean was once again in the throes of a laughing fit as he went through his rucksack looking for the salt. He found it and returned to Sam.

"Ready now?" he'd asked.

Sam hadn't responded. He had been staring intently at his hands. Turning them over to trace the fine lines that criss-crossed across his palm.

"Uh Sam?"

Still no response.

Dean had watched his father reach down and take a light hold of Sam's wrists. It was only then that Sam had taken any notice of either of them.

"Look at this!" He'd exclaimed.

Again John and Dean had shot each other questioning looks.

"Look at this! Have you ever seen anything like it?"

This time there was no recovering from the laughter that shook Dean's form. He'd doubled over and wheezed as he fought to breath through his laughter. Sam had seemed to take it as some sort of sign that he could get out of bed. Still staring at his hands Sam had wandered round the room and touched different objects, watching if fingers trace their shapes as if they were something that didn't belong to his body.

Dean had been completely unable to help his father catch a struggling Sam and lead him back to bed, he had been to busy rolling on the floor trying to breath.

By the time Dean had got his breath back and could look at his own hands without dissolving back into fits of laughter Sam had been tucked back into bed and was sound asleep.

John had sunk into the motels only lounge chair; Dean had looked over at his father and grinned. John had sighed and run his hand through his short hair.

"Remind me never to let that boy get sick ever!" John had told his eldest. "Christ, I need a drink after that."

Next time Sam had woken, he'd been much more lucid and soon the small family had moved on to their next hunt.

It never failed to make Dean grin when he remembered how he and his father had tried to cope with a delirious Sam. Even now when he looked down at his own hands, turning them this way and that, tracing the lines and the scars that could be found, he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Dude," Sam spoke from where he was lying in his bed. "You shoulda seen your face just then. Surely there are things out there more interesting then your hands."

At this Dean had laughed, and winked at Sam. "Oh, I dunno Sammy," he told his brother smirking when Sam flinched at the nickname. "I mean, look at this! Have your ever seen anything like it?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just turn off the light, jerk".

Still cackling Dean had flicked the switch. "Ok, bitch."

The room was quickly enveloped in darkness, and the deep silence that came with it, but every now and then the quiet was broken by Dean's chuckles as he replayed the memory over and over again.

Hmm, so... ha ha ha, hope you enjoyed that in all its craziness. Please review! Thankies!!