Sam had always been pretty good at concentrating, especially at school which was his one escape into a normal life. Except today he couldn't.
Dean had left to go on a hunt a couple of days ago and was set to return that afternoon and spending a couple of days alone with his dad wasn't really Sam's idea of fun. Sam didn't even know what he was hunting, he'd left pretty suddenly without much of an explanation. But Sam couldn't wait for him to return. Dean always came back with the best stories.
So, in the meantime while he was cruelly forced to wait, he couldn't concentrate. Over the day he'd encountered many of his teachers reminding him to focus on his work. But luckily no detentions were threatened. What a mess that would be to explain to his father. And what a joke it would be to tell Dean, the 'star student' getting detention.
Means to say, when the school bell rang Sam was the first one out the gate. He walked back to the motel as fast as his long legs could carry him, ending up near sprinting down the last road.
Entering the driveway, he checked for cars before crossing over to the block where their room was. His smile was so big that it hurt his face as he reached the door. He couldn't wait to see Dean inside where he was probably cleaning his guns.
Turning around from closing the door behind him, his smile dropped. 'Is he hurt?' he gasped after seeing Dean passed out on the couch with his head uncharacteristically on John's lap. The latter with his hand on his shoulder. Sam's throat felt unnaturally tight, John never showed any compassion for his son's unless something was seriously wrong. It was even more abnormal for Dean to accept any.
Sam's eyes were still wide, and he blinked in a repetition that was probably more than normal when John shook his head, keeping quiet for Dean's sake.
Sam frowned, his mind flicking through more possibilities on why this was happening. Rendering most of them irrelevant only one stuck. But it didn't make any sense, that wasn't normal either.
'Sick?' Sam asked hesitantly almost sure he would be wrong. Dean never got sick. 'Caught one hell of a cough up in the woods' John confirmed, running his hand up and down Dean's arm as he slept.
With his heart slowing down a bit, Sam walked over to his bed and put down his bag. Being sick sucked but it was easier to fix than an injury. He smiled to himself and shook his head while he took off his shoes. He found it funny how he could tell of Dean's state of health just by the way he slept.
It was just the little things, he guessed.