Fever Dreams

Dean awoke instantly at the sound of whimpering from the other side of the small bedroom, and quickly threw back the covers so he could make his way to Sam's side. Sam was curled into a tight ball in the center of the bed, at Dean inhaled sharply at the feeling of Sam's hot skin.

Dean had known Sam was coming down with something for the past several days. His appetite had been waning, and the usually talkative eleven year old had fallen sullen and silent. During the two days drive to the farm, he had mostly slept, ignoring the pile of books that he kept in the foot wells in the back seat of the Impala.

If John had noticed he didn't say anything, but Dean doubted he had suspected the oncoming illness. John did his best, but it wasn't exactly a family secret that he rarely noticed when things were out of the ordinary for his youngest, he barely had time to notice the ordinary things about Sam.

John had left on a hunt shortly after their arrival, leaving his two boys at the farm with Caleb, who had agreed to watch the property while Jim was away on a church retreat and appreciated the company the Winchester's would offer. Sam had crashed in the bed early, and Dean had hoped that he could fight off whatever ailment was attacking his system. Clearly he was wrong.

"Everything okay Deuce?" Dean turned to see Caleb standing in the doorway. He wasn't surprised that the psychic had noticed that the aura was off in the house. He had a unique connection to the Winchester's and had probably sensed Sam's sickness and Dean's unease. Dean shook his head at the older man.

"Sam has a fever." Caleb took another step into the room, standing close enough so he could see the youngest boy, but staying behind Dean. He knew better then to stand between Dean and his sick brother, he wasn't exactly looking to get his head bitten off by a Mother Henning older brother.

"How bad?" Dean shrugged and pulled the comforter away from the boy's small body.

"Bad enough." Dean pushed Sam's sweaty bangs out of his face, and Sam winced at the contact, opening his sluggish eyes, which landed, on his brother.

"D-d-d-dean?" Sam asked hoarsely through chattering teeth. Dean smiled down.

"Hey little brother. How are you feeling?" Sam's glassy eyes were teary, and Dean didn't actually need an answer to know how sick Sam was feeling. It was written all over his face.

"Ss-ss-ooo c-c-old." Dean sighed.

"I know kiddo, I'm gonna help you out." Dean turned back towards Caleb.

"Can you run a cool bath?" Caleb grimaced but nodded.

"He ain't gonna like that."

"He won't like it if his brain fries either."

While Caleb ran the water, Dean stripped Sam down to his boxers, carrying him carefully down the hall despite Sam's protests. Eventually Sam calmed, collapsing back against his brothers chest. But as soon as Dean dumped him in the water, he shrieked, attempting to crawl out as Caleb and Dean tried their hardest to hold him down.

"Dean!" Sam screamed, looking everywhere in the bathroom except at the two people holding him in the bath.

"I'm right here Sammy." Dean said, keeping his hand firmly against his little brother's chest. Sam clawed desperately at his hand, but lacked the strength to get Dean to release his hold.

"No… can't be Dean… this hurts… Dean doesn't hurt." Dean flinched at the comment. He knew the cold water must be making Sam achy, but he needed to get the fever down and this was the only thing he knew would help.

"Just hang on. You will feel better soon." Sam stopped fighting instead letting the tears flow from his eyes.

"Please… just stop…. Mom help…." Dean choked up, he didn't know how to comprehend that his brother was in so much pain, that he was crying out for the mother he had never known.

"It's just the fever talking Deuce." Caleb said softly. Caleb knew Dean was sensitive about the topic, after all he knew that pain first hand. Dean just nodded, and felt his brother's head again. It wasn't back to normal, but it was significantly lower, low enough that he could put Sam back to bed without worrying about it.

"Let's get him out." Caleb helped Dean carry Sam back to the bedroom, plopping the towel wrapped kid on the bed.

"I'll go make some coffee while you get him ready for bed." Caleb had been through Sam's dirty diaper phase, he really didn't need to see Sam in his birthday suit.

"Thanks Damien." The door clicked shut softly, and Dean made quick work of changing Sam into some sweatpants and one of Dean's t-shirts. Sam was asleep, curled into a small ball under the covers, so Dean put his hand on the top of Sam's mop of chestnut coloured hair.

"I'll make you tomato rice soup tomorrow Sammy, I am sure I left some stashed here last time…" Dean sniffed as he felt uncontrollable tears slip down his cheeks. "I'm sorry you don't remember her Sammy… I am so sorry." Dean jumped as he felt a small hand land over his.

"Dean?" Dean wiped his face and smiled softly.

"Hey kiddo." Sam blinked his eyes slowly.

"Are you okay?" Dean laughed.

"Yeah. You are the one with the 104 degree fever." Sam sniffed.

"That's hot… don't like hot… hate fire…." Dean's stomach churned, too much mention of his mom and fire tonight.

"Just get some sleep. You will feel better in the morning." Sam smiled.

"Mmm…kay De." When Sam's eyes slipped closed Dean made his way out of the bedroom, and down the stairs. He plopped himself down into one of the wooden kitchen chairs and buried his head in his arms. He heard Caleb slide into the chair beside him, but he wasn't sure he had the energy to talk to him.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Caleb asked, knowing full well that dealing with emotions alone was the Winchester way. It was his way too, he knew how sometimes you needed to get the tears out, but doing it in front of your family could make you feel weak. Dean sighed, but shook his head, when it came to his Mom, he hated dealing with that alone.

"It's been eleven years Damien… I shouldn't let something as simple as that get to me." Caleb quirked an eyebrow at the comment, cause he thought that was one of the stupidest things he had ever heard.

"Why?"

"Cause… I need to grow up… it was a long time ago. Me crying like a frigging baby isn't gonna change anything." Caleb scoffed.

"Missing your Mom will never go away Deuce, it had nothing to do with growing up. If there is one thing in this life you are allowed to lose it over it's that. Nobody here is ever going to judge you for that." Dean swallowed and lifted his head so he could look at Caleb.

"Sam thought I was trying to hurt him." Caleb sighed. He knew that had to be

"It was just the fever Deuce, it made him delusional."

"That's not my point, he was in pain, and he didn't call out for Dad… or for any of us, he called out for Mom. Did we fail him so bad, that he calls out for her ghost instead of us."

"No. He always calls out for you Kid, you are his safety."

"I don't even think he could see me."

"Hey look at me." Caleb waited until Dean's eyes slid up to meet his own, there was way too much pain in the eyes of the fifteen year old. "He sees you, he was just scared and in pain. And I see you, right here right now. You have done the best you can; you have taken care of that kid, and given him everything that was ripped away from you. I see you Deuce, you are not failing him, and you aren't failing her either."

"I am a shitty replacement."

"You ain't a replacement. You're Dean. And you are doing everything you can." Dean sighed and nodded.

"Do you think he will be alright?" Caleb smiled.

"Of course, he's a Winchester. Go get some sleep Deuce, I'll stay awake in case he needs anything." Dean stood and stretched before facing Caleb in the doorway.

"Wake me up when he wakes up?" Caleb laughed into his cup.

"Like you won't wake up, the second his eyes blink open anyway." Dean rolled his eyes, and made his way back upstairs. He smiled softly at his little brothers sleeping form.

"He turned out just like you…" Dean whispered into the darkness. "I'll have to tell him that someday. Remind him, that he is just as much a part of you as I am."