Season 4, Pre-Apocalypse and before stuff gets too serious.

Rated for some innuendo and, I think, language.

This is pretty much for everyone who ever wrote a sickfic about Dean or Sam. You know who you are. You guys literally got me into the show in the first place.

********

"How close are you to Tampa?"

Sam smiled and pressed his palm to his other ear, straining to hear the crackling voice over the phone. "Don't I get a hello?"

"Hello, how's the weather, how 'bout them Yankees, how close are you to Tampa?"

"Well Bobby, we just passed Denver so… pretty far. What's in Tampa?" Sam leaned against the hood of the Impala. He rested an elbow along the windshield and used the other hand to rub boyishly at the back of his neck. Behind him, a few yards back at the gas station's convenient store, Dean struck a similar pose while chatting up the leggy blonde who was scanning his purchases.

"Vampire coven. Close to half a dozen victims already. Damn, I'm sick of vampires."

"Well, if you're willing to wait a couple of days I think we can get there by Wednesday."

"Naw, don't worry about it. There's hunters around here'll help me out. I'll be fine. How're you boys doin'? Dean adjustin' alright?"

"He's still glad to be out of Hell if that's what you mean," Sam watched his brother exit the shop and cock his head to watch the follow the woman entering behind him. "I'm a little worried he's pushing himself too hard, though. I swear we just go from hunt to hunt without a second to breathe these days."

"Boy's hurtin', that's for sure," the gruffness of Bobby's voice masked his underlying pity.

"Exactly. I don't think he's even sleeping much anymore. He's even getting sick from all of it."

"Do I need to be concerned?"

"No, he's coming down with something, all right, but probably just a cold." Sam lowered his voice as Dean got closer. "If anything, you should be concerned about me. I've got to try to convince him to take it easy for a few days. I'd almost rather trade you for the vampires."

"And leave me with a sick Dean?" Bobby laughed. "No thanks. I'll stay with the coven."

"Get your monster elbows of my Baby," Dean bellowed as he walked up to the car.

"Well, I'll talk to you later, Bobby," Sam said loudly. He righted himself as Dean surveyed the hood for dents. Satisfied, he pointed a reprimanding finger at his brother before opening the driver's side door and sliding in.

"Take care Sam. And tell Dean I hope he feels better."

"Yeah, thanks."

Sam dropped the phone into his pocket and pulled himself into the passenger's seat. The car was silent and he took the moment to glance at his brother. Dean's eyes were glazed over and he was frozen in place, gaze fixed distantly at a streetlight.

"You okay man?"

The response was a quick breath hitching and a powerful, "Hye-chew!" Dean sighed loudly and grinned before turning the key and starting the engine.

"Bless you," said Sam, carefully eyeing his brother.

The formality was ignored. Dean asked, "So what did Bobby say? Does he have a case for us?"

"Nothing," Sam lied. "He was just checking in. Says things have been pretty slow lately."

"Well I don't like the sound of that. That usually means something big is coming." Dean's response was ended with a short, clipped cough.

"I don't know about that," Sam shrugged. "I say we just enjoy the peace while we got it."

"Sammy, part of being a good hunter is anticipating…" Dean's words trailed off. The car, almost an extension of the man, slowed as Dean's breath hitched. Just as his eyes were brimming with tears his face was reanimated and he scowled.

"Dammit," he muttered. "Lost it."

Sam smiled sympathetically. "I hate that."

Dean started to respond but was pitched forward with a sudden, exploding sneeze.

"Hahchew!"

This time Sam skipped the blessing and popped open the glove compartment. He rummaged for a moment before pulling out a couple of folded, fast food napkins. He passed them to his brother who wordlessly plucked one from the top of the stack and rubbed it under his nose.

"You getting sick?" Sam tried to sound nonchalant.

"I'm fine."

"We could take a couple days off, you know. Hole up in a little motel, watch daytime television, at least until you feel better."

"I feel fine. We're not taking any days off. Demons aren't taking days off, so neither are we."

Sam sighed and glanced out the window at the passing town.

"Can't we at least stop for dinner?" he asked.

Dean let a hand drift to his stomach and looked off at a blinking "OPEN" sign across the street.

"I could use some food," he agreed.

********

Fifteen minutes later the boys were seated across from each other at a little diner, decorated with painfully bright red and yellow. Sam perused the newspaper while Dean read the menu with vigor.

"See anything interesting?" he asked, his eyes not leaving the menu.

"Nothing much," Sam continued to lie as he folded the National News section into quarters and put it in his pocket. "Definitely nothing supernatural."

"Good evening boys, my name's Pearl, and I'll be serving you tonight." A tiny brunette with curls piled high on her head, smiled warmly at the pair.

"Hello Pearl," Dean's voice melted over the words like sugar and his smile matched. "My name's De- ah hyechew!"

"Aw, bless you sugar," the waitress pulled a stack of napkins from her apron and handed one over.

"Thank you," Dean said sweetly, blowing his nose noisily.

"Come one dude," complained Sam. "At the table?"

Dean ignored him, balling up the napkin and smiling again at the waitress. "Anyway, Pearl, I'm Dean, this is my sister Samantha."

Her laughter bubbled. "And what can I get you guys?"

Sam ordered the salad, giving Dean the opportunity to raise his eyebrows in mocking before ordering himself. His order was punctuated by two more, thundering sneezes, but Sam was at least relieved to see his appetite appeared strong, as he verbally debated whether his double cheeseburger required extra bacon.

Pearl dotted cheerfully at her pad of paper. Even her handwriting seemed bubbly.

"While they're making your burger, why don't I bring you out some chicken soup for that cold?" she offered amiably.

"Well aren't you sweet?" Dean flirted back. She trounced off while he observed her departure, biting his lip.

"So you do have a cold?" Sam accused triumphantly after she was gone.

"I do not have a cold," Dean rubbed at his temples, trying to appear frustrated but not in actual pain.

"You let Pearl think you do."

Dean gave Sam his best "are-you-serious" look. "Dude, did you see the rack on that girl? I'd let her think I was Batman."

"Batman?" Now it was Sam's turn to give the look.

Dean smiled mischievously, "Some girls really like to pretend… costumes don't hurt."

Sam groaned but his admonishment was cut short as Dean burst into a tight-lipped coughing fit. He pressed the back of his knuckles to his mouth in an effort to stifle the sound. Sam wanted to roll his eyes. How damn stoic did he have to be?

When Dean had finished coughing he drank thirstily from his water and nearly choked when Pearl popped up behind him again.

"Here's your soup." She placed the steaming bowl in front of him and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

"Thank you," Dean looked up at her with puppy dog eyes and tried to make his voice sound pitiful. It actually wasn't that hard. After the coughing fit there was a harsh edge and his voice dropped in and out of pitch when he spoke.

"So are you fellas staying in town for a little while?" She looked between the pair. Sam jumped at the opportunity when he saw it.

"We're thinking about it," he said with his own winning smile. "What's there to do around here?"

"Well," she said thoughtfully, not taking her eyes off of Dean. "I get off at eleven."

Dean's eyes widened and he nearly choked on his soup. The choking set off another fit of coughing and this time Pearl rubbed his back throughout, clucking sympathetically.

"You poor thing," she hummed. "That cold…you really just need a woman's touch."

"I sure do," he said, almost hungrily.

"Why don't you stop by my place tonight and I'll take care of you. I make this great tea… I'm actually a really good nurse."

"A nurse huh?" Dean's eyes went mischievously to his brother. "Like with a starched white dress and one of those hats?"

"If that's what you like," she purred before taking off, striding with the knowledge that her departure was being watched.

Dean leaned confidentially across the table and smirked. "Costumes Sammy, costumes."