AN: Poor caffienekitty has too much to work and because, you know, too much work makes caffienekitty... I think you get the direction. And so I wrote a little h/c oneshot - well, partly one-shot, because I'm obviously unable to write something short...
Dean was developing a headache. At first it had been only a small fluttering behind his left temple, but that feeling soon expanded and now even his eyes hurt. Normally he would have let Sam drive. But right now? Not an option. His brother had been sick for the better of two weeks - a really nasty cold, but no flu, thank god for small favors - and he was still tiring soon. So Dean really did not want him behind the wheel, falling asleep, wrapping his girl around a tree or something. He took a glance at his watch. Two more hours 'till civilization - well, 'till the next village even. Dean did not plan on stopping until then, headache or not.
Singing to the music did not help. Heck, even music alone hurt like a bitch. So Dean drove in silence. Except for Sam's regular breathing and sometimes snoring sounds. Less than half an hour had passed, but he soon was reaching a point where he needed a break. The dark street in front of him, only illuminated by the impala's strong lights, was blurred and even blinking did not change that. Dean pulled the car to a stop and looked at his brother. Sam was still sound asleep. And Dean was not going to change that. He only needed fresh air.
He opened his door and a gust of cold autumn air swept inside. Dean shivered briefly before stepping outside into the dark night. The chill did not help his headache as it normally would have and standing up even increased the fierce ponding behind his eyes to a new level. The world swayed and Dean had to put a hand on the impala's roof to steady himself. There was the taste of coffee in his mouth... It made him wonder... But Dean could not finish that thought. His knees buckled and darkness engulfed his consciousness, as the night had his body only moments before.
When Sam woke up it was freezing cold in the car. In fact, it was very likely the chill woke him. He tried to blink his disorientation away, sleep still held him in his claws. So it took Sam a certain amount of time before he noticed the lack of Dean. No music. No rambling. And no prank he had noticed 'till now. But the door was left open. Apparently it has been opened quite some time ago judging from the temperature inside. Somewhere inside Sam an alarm started to blare. He hurried outside, quickly, but cautiously never the less. Somewhere outside there could be... Dean! Sam's heart missed a beat as he saw his brother lying on the concrete only a few meters from the car on the street. Luckily until now no one had used the deserted highway otherwise they surely would have run over Dean. Sam hurried to get his brother back to the impala, feeling light tremors as he gripped his arms firmly.
Sam manhandled his brother on the backseats before turning on the impalas inside light to take a better look at Dean. There surely must have happened something. His brother could not probably have passed out. Never. Knocked unconscious, hurt, poisoned... But Sam simply could not find any traces. No wounds or injuries, no signs of an injection of any kind. Perhaps Dean was sick? Seriously ill? But while searching his brother's body he learned that Dean was not shivering from cold but the trembling he had just felt were actually seizures growing in force. Dean was moaning as Sam put his hand on his brother's forehead. Add fever to the symptoms, he thought.
Sam was already driving high speed to the next town, when he heard another moan in the car's back. He took a glance at his brother through the rear view mirror and was met with bloodshot eyes. "Dean...? Can you... Can you tell me, what happened?", Sam asked while watching both his brother and the empty street. He tried not to let the fear he felt slip into his voice but he did not quite succeed. "Don't feel so good, Sammy" Dean sounded weak, much weaker as Sam would have liked. And... frightened? The fact that his brother so willingly admitted that he was not 'ok' made Sam's stomach knot together. It must really be bad for Dean to... unless... Sam managed to stop the car, jump out, open the back door and get his brother at least partly out just in time before the gust of dark liquid that left his brother's mouth could stain the seats. He tried to comfort Dean knowing that no matter what he tried he was bound to fail at that task. Nevertheless he rubbed circles on his brother's back and waited for the fierce vomiting to stop. As Dean was only dry heaving, realization struck him. The dark, nearly olive liquid his brother had just vomited was blood. And Sam's concern was displaced by real panic..