Summary: Sam is sick and John tries to help. Dean isn't happy with that. Set after the episode: Dead Man's Blood.

Disclaimer: I really really wish I owned Supernatural but of course I don't.

I know I really need to update Can't I Be Happy? but this idea came to me the other day and wouldn't leave me alone.

Enjoy and please review!

John didn't know what had gotten into Dean. Ever since he decided to join back up with his sons, Dean had been acting like he wasn't even around some days. Others he would randomly snap at John. John just figured it was stress but then again maybe it wasn't. John remembered how last week on a hunt Sam had gotten hurt and John tried to help, but Dean told him to stay out of the way. Now Sam was sick. John sat on the bed and watched his sons.

"De?"

"Shh, I'm right here kiddo. Try to sleep, okay?"

"But, De, I'm hot," Sam whined.

"No shit, Sherlock, you've got a fever. Just try to relax."

Sam sat up as a bout of coughing attacked. Suddenly he got a look on his face and Dean knew he was gonna throw up. Quickly grabbing the wastebasket that was closer, he shoved it under Sam's chin just as he puked. Sam sat up and wiped his mouth with a tissue that Dean handed him.

"I hate this, De."

"I know, buddy. Don't worry, you'll feel better soon. Listen, I'm gonna take your temp again and then I'll run to the store and get you some things."

"No! I hate those things, please no, De."

"Sammy, I need to check your temp again. And you need some more medicine."

"Dean? Would you like me to take Sam's temperature?" John asked.

Dean turned to where his father was sitting and just glared at him. What the fuck is his problem? Stop asking. Dean got the first aid kit and grabbed the thermometer out of it. It was the one that you stick in the ear. Dean turned it on and stuck it in Sam's ear.

"De, stop," Sam said squirming.

"Sammy, stop squirming or I'm not gonna get an accurate read. Look if you can stay still for just a few minutes when I go to the store to get you some more ginger ale I'll get you some applesauce. How's that sound?"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Sam immediately stopped squirming. John raised his eyebrows. Sam likes applesauce? Since when? How come I never knew that? John watched as Dean removed the thermometer from Sam's ear.

"Shit. Looks like your temps going up, kiddo," Dean said putting the thermometer back and grabbing the Tylenol. "Sorry, kiddo, but you need to take the pills. I don't want you throwing up the liquid."

"Kay," Sam took the Tylenol and downed them with the cup of water that Dean produced.

"Get some sleep, kiddo. I'm gonna run to the store up the street real quick. So I can get your ginger ale and applesauce."

"Kay," Sam mumbled sleepily.

Dean pulled the covers over his brother then grabbed the keys to the car.

"Dean, I can go to the store so that you can stay here with Sam," John offered.

"No, thanks."

"Dean, I'm only trying to help."

"Yeah, whatever. I don't need your help. I'll be back. Don't touch him. Don't do anything, just stay clear of him," Dean said walking out the door.

Don't touch him? He's my son. If he needs me then I will help him. John was not gonna just sit on the sidelines and watch his sons. He was determined to help if need be. He looked up and saw Sam shifting. He went over to him and ran his fingers through his sweaty bangs.

"Shh, it's okay kiddo."

"De?"

"No, sorry, Sammy, it's dad."

"Dad, where's De?"

"He's not here right now, kiddo. He went to the store."

"He left me? I want De!"

"Sam, take it easy. What do you need?"

"I need De."

It kinda hurt John's heart that Sam was calling for Dean and not him. But he couldn't let that bother him right now.

"I know kiddo. Dean'll be back soon."

"No! I want De now! I need him!"

"Sam, you gotta calm down before you have a coughing fit or something."

"I don't wanna calm down, I want De!"

Just then Dean came through the door, "Sammy?"

"De!"

Dean put the bags down and walked to Sam's bed glaring at John, "What happened kiddo?"

Sam didn't answer instead he went into a huge coughing fit. After his coughing subsided he threw up again.

"I told you that you needed to calm down, Sam," John said.

Dean turned and fixed John with an angry stare, "What did you do to him?"

"He seemed to be in distress or something so I tried to calm him down."

"I told you not to touch him."

"Dean…"

Dean ignored his father and turned to Sam, "Hey kiddo you wanna try some applesauce? Then maybe have a ginger ale?"

Sam sat up and nodded. Dean grabbed an applesauce and a spoon and handed both to Sam.

"You mind feeding yourself? I'm gonna go outside and talk to dad, okay?"

"Kay," Sam said slurping the applesauce happily.

Dean headed outside and John followed him shutting the door behind him.

"What the fuck is your problem? I told you not to touch him."

"Dean, Sam is my son. I was trying to help."

"Your son, huh? 'Trying to help'? Since when, dad? When have you ever acted like we were your sons? When have you ever tried to help?"

"Dean, I understand-"

"You don't understand anything! Do you know that Sam likes Cinnamon flavored applesauce when he's sick? Or did you know that Sam needs to be knocked out before you can sew him up because he hates the sight of someone stitching his body?"

"No," John said quietly.

"Do you know that Sam resorts to a little kid when he's sick and likes to be fed? Did you know that he likes to be held when he has nightmares?"

John just shook his head because he didn't know all that.

"Exactly. All you know is that Sam is good with knives and the best person for research."

"That's not entirely true, Dean."

"No? So tell me what else do you know about Sam?"

"Uh…he's an excellent shooter."

"Right. Anything that deals with hunting. That's your problem dad; you were never around to know these things. I took care of Sam from the time I was four and I'm still doing it now. So you can't just come back in our lives and expect everything to change. We don't need your help and we never did."

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"For what? Not being there when your kids needed you? Not being there to hear about your kid's day? I accepted long ago that you weren't always gonna be around, but Sammy didn't. He still needed his dad. He needed to know that his dad was there for him and not just his big brother. He wanted his dad to tell him that he loved him and not just give him a pat on the back when he did a good job on a hunt. Save your sorries."

"Dean…"

"You know what dad? You've become so obsessed with finding the demon that killed mom that you forgot about your own sons. I can live with that, but Sammy can't."

Just then Sam called him from inside.

"You know what? You can go that route alone. Sam and I want no part in your everlasting crusade," Dean said walking back inside the motel room.

John stayed outside and thought about what Dean had said. He peered into the motel window and saw Dean giving Sam some ginger ale. That sight caused his heart to break. Dean's right, he has been taking care of Sam his whole life. It really is too late. He closed his eyes and let a tear fall.

"I'm sorry boys. I love you," He said glancing in the window once more before getting in his truck and driving away.

END.