Sirens

Dean turned away from Sam and pulled the covers off Sam's body. A cold chill hit Sam's bare chest and he was woken up by it. Shivering slightly, he turned to Dean's side and tried to pull some off the sheets to himself but was unsuccessful. He shook Dean a little and said sleepily, "Dean… come on man, you're hogging the sheets again." Dean didn't respond, so Sam, thinking that his brother was playing around, got on top of Dean and prodded him a little. "Deany… you know you love me," Sam said softly and nuzzled Dean's shoulder a little, but Dean still didn't answer, that's when Sam got worried.

He got off the bed and crouched by the edge of the bed to look at Dean closer. Sam realized that Dean was pale and there was a thin layer of sweat coating his face and neck. Slowly, he reached out and touched Dean's forehead, trying to coax Dean awake. "Dean?" Sam said slowly, touching his forehead, finding it burning hot. "Dean, wake up."

Slowly, Dean's eyes opened a little and he looked at Sam, green eyes dull and dark rings under his eyes. "S-Sammy…" he said hoarsely. "S-Sam, I think… I'm a little suh-sick," Dean said, trying to smile a little, but he couldn't even muster up strength to do that.

Sam stood up and went into their apartment's kitchen to get a glass of water and brought it back to Dean. He set the glass on the table and he put a hand under Dean's head and upper back, lifting him up at the same time. He had carried Dean's dead weight before, but it seemed like Dean was more than that right now. Sam sat down next to him and propped him up against his chest and took Dean's head in his hand, lifting it up to meet his eyes. "Dean, I need you to take some water okay?" Sam said, waiting for a response.

Dean lifted his eyes to meet Sam's and he nodded slightly, but Sam had to hold Dean's head because Dean just didn't seem to have the strength to do anything by himself. Sam lifted the glass up to Dean's lips and Dean managed to swallow a little before he coughed and spat out the water, going into a coughing fit. Sam quickly set down the water and rubbed Dean's back while he calmed down.

"Suh-sorry," Dean said, voice a little stronger, "w-went down the w-wrong way."

Sam smiled a little and took the glass, raising it again to Dean. "A little more?" he asked, "And sip this time, Dean, don't swallow."

Dean gives Sam his best attempt at a sneer. "I WAS sipping, asshat," he says, but takes a slower drink anyway.

After a while, Sam set Dean down on the bed again and wiped a damp cloth over his forehead, taking the layer of sweat away and trying to soothe him. But when Dean just got worse, Sam got up and went over to the bathroom to get some pills to help with the fever.

Sam opened the bathroom door to find Dean crumpled on the floor in a pool on vomit.

He dropped the bottle, horrified by the sight and rushed to Dean's side. He turned him over and tried to wake him, but Dean was unconscious, barely breathing.

Sam scrambled for his phone and punched in the emergency number, begging for an ambulance. The woman on the line told Sam to keep Dean's body on his side in case he throws up again, saying he could choke on his vomit and die.

Twenty minutes later, paramedics arrived in their apartment and instantly hooked Dean to an IV, taking his pressure and putting him on a gurney. One of the paramedics looked at the bed, then at Sam and said, "boyfriend?" and Sam nodded, it was half the truth anyway, right?

A few minutes later, the ambulance was zooming towards the hospital, Dean being checked over more by the paramedics and Sam next to him, holding his limp hand and staring at his brother's pale face, almost white as paper, and praying to whoever was listening.

"S-Sammy," came a voice, quiet and afraid. Sam looked up at Dean, and he saw him regaining some consciousness, but he was confused. Sam was afraid that Dean's hunter instincts might take over and he might lash out at the paramedics, so he knelt down fast by the edge of the gurney and told the paramedics to back off a little with his hand.

Dean was looking around groggily, still fighting to stay awake, but Sam could see his whole body start to tense, instinct to survive taking over slowly. Sam put a hand on Dean's hair and spoke softly to him, soothingly, "Dean, hey, Dean, it's me, it's Sammy," Sam said and Dean looked towards Sam's voice, but Sam was unsure if Dean could see him clearly. "Sam…?" Dean said, his voice almost child-like, the loss of his normal bravado breaking Sam's heart.

"Dea… I'm here. Your Sam is here," Sam said, stroking Dean's hair a little. Dean's eyes unfocused a little and Sam grabbed his hand and squeezed, but felt Dean's hand slacken. "Don't… lea…ve…" Dean whispered before going unconscious again.

Sam looked at the paramedics. "Drive. Faster."