Indisposed-Season 6
The squeak of the driver side door opening startled him awake and he blinked open bleary eyes to find his brother eyeing him in concern.
"Damn it, Dean…You don't look so good." He put out a hand to Dean's forehead.
Dean told himself that it was the coldness of Sam's hands that made him flinch and not the fact that his brother had been a soulless dickbag not more than a month ago and Dean still sometimes had trouble remembering that Sam was actually back. If his little brother noticed, he didn't say anything and merely mumbled something about fever and getting a motel room before the engine roared to life and they rolled out of the gas station.
They hadn't planned on stopping for the night and Dean almost reminded his brother of that before catching the look on Sam's face. His brother was in one of his moods and no amount of trying to convince his little brother that he could sleep in the car would dissuade him.
It might have been the dull batter of rain against the roof of the car that lulled him to sleep but when he woke it was to Sam opening the passenger door and telling him they'd reached the motel.
"12. Go on inside. I'll grab our stuff." Sam told him shortly after pressing the keys into Dean's palm.
Dean remembered fumbling to unlock the door and sprawling across the nearest bed. The next thing he knew, someone had taken his shoes off and thrown a heavy comforter over him. He rolled over searching the room for his brother who appeared from out of the washroom squeezing out a washcloth. He brightened when he saw Dean was awake.
"Hey, how you doing?" He sat on the edge of the bed and fixed the washcloth over Dean's forehead.
Dean grumbled something about not being a baby in response and turned his face back into the pillow in an effort to go back to sleep.
Sam was having none of it.
"Nuh-uh Older Brother. I want you to try some soup first." Sam tapped on his cheek with two fingers in an effort to rouse him and Dean finally obliged him by blinking one eye open.
"Go 'way! An' l'mme sleep…"
"No can do, Dean…You hurled enough as is last night. Gotta get some food into you."
Funny. He didn't remember that.
"I don't want it."
"Tough." Sam retrieved the Styrofoam container from the fridge and eyed it before dumping its contents into a coffee mug and setting it in the microwave. "I'll give you something to settle your stomach in an hour or so…Haven't reached the time yet."
"How long we been here anyway?" Dean asked.
"We got here the night before last…You've been pretty out of it."
Damn it.
Dean tried to keep himself from dropping off again but it was damn hard and he was so cold. Scratch that. He was burning up. Why the hell had Sam given him so many blankets anyway? He frowned and kicked the corner of the mound of blankets off of his feet immediately regretting it when he found he was cold again.
Sam didn't say anything other than to flash a hint of his dimples as he returned with the mug of soup and pulled the blankets back over Dean's feet.