Hide And Seek
Author's Note:
1. One-shot prompt by mandancie: Sam gets sick and tries to hide it from Dean. I've set it in Season One.
Sam knew he was getting sick the moment he woke up. His head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton balls and his muscles ached.
Sitting up tiredly, he ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Dean still sleeping in the bed next to his.
Without waking his sibling, Sam got out of bed and padded in his bare feet to the motel bathroom. Turning on the light, Sam squinted at his reflection in the mirror.
He looked fine. Tired, maybe, but when did he ever look well-rested?
The First Aid kit caught Sam's eye from where it sat on the counter next to the sink, forgotten after having been needed the night before.
Pushing aside rolls of gauze, packages of needles and antiseptic wipes, Sam found a bottle of ASA. Opening the childproof lid, the youngest Winchester shook two white pills onto his palm and swallowed them without water.
He couldn't afford to get sick. Not when Dean needed him to help find their father.
Putting the pills away, Sam carried the kit with him, placing it into his duffel bag.
From across the room Dean grunted and sat up. He blinked sleepily and groaned, "I guess you want to hit the road?"
Sam shrugged, "Dad's clearly not here so why should we stay?"
Dean nodded and stood, grabbing his duffel bag from where it sat at the end of his bed.
"I'll be out in few minutes if you want to pack the car," he told Sam as he shuffled into the bathroom.
W
Sam looked up when Dean slid into the Impala's driver seat and turned on the engine. He grimaced as his older brother turned on the radio and rock music exploded from the speakers.
Gritting his teeth, Sam didn't say anything as a headache began to form between his eyes.
"How'd you sleep last night?" Dean asked suddenly, mercifully turning the music's volume down.
Sam, caught off guard, blinked owlishly at his sibling for a moment.
"Anyone home?" Dean asked jokingly and Sam rolled his eyes.
"Okay, I guess," he muttered.
"Did you have anymore nightmares?" Dean wanted to know.
Sam shrugged noncommittally.
"That's not an answer," Dean chided, "Either you slept like a log or you didn't."
Sam scowled, "I didn't sleep well! Okay?"
Dean looked at him for a moment before turning the music up again, "Fine, Grouchy."
Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, turning to peer out the passenger window.
"I saw her die again," Sam said quietly but Dean didn't hear him.
SPN
Dean watched critically as Sam picked at his salad. His own burger had tasted divine and he was currently polishing off a chocolate milkshake.
"We're not leaving until you clean your plate," Dean said.
Sam glared at him.
"I'm not a kid, Dean," he argued, "I don't need you telling me to eat my vegetables."
Dean smirked, "Clearly you do."
"Shut up," Sam muttered.
"That's mature," Dean commented, trying to lighten the mood.
Sam had been so stressed and on edge since leaving Stanford- since Jessica's death- and Dean hated seeing him like that.
Any chance he got, Dean tried to turn Sam's frown upside down, if only for a moment.
Sam pushed his plate away, "Are you going to finish that soon?"
Dean quickly drank the rest of his milkshake and slid some bills onto the tabletop for their waitress.
SPN
Sam just couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. The sleepless nights must be catching up with him.
Turning away from Dean, the young man closed his eyes.
Instead of letting him rest, Sam's achy muscles decided at that moment to remind him that he was coming down with something.
Sam shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position but finding it impossible to do so.
Giving up, he opened his eyes and stared out the window at the endless fields passing by on either side of the car.
"How long until we stop?" Sam asked Dean, raising his voice over the pounding of the music.
Dean looked at him; "I can pull over here if you need to take a piss."
Sam frowned, "That's not what I mean. Is there a town around here?"
Dean shrugged, "Dunno. There's a map in the glove compartment if you want to look."
Sam sighed and opened the compartment, taking a wrinkled and faded map out.
The printing on the map was small and so worn some of it was barely visible. Sam squinted and held the map close to his nose. Almost instantly his headache returned, throbbing between his eyes.
"There's a village called Henredon not too far from here," Sam said and folded the map.
"Sure, we can stop there for dinner," Dean said.
Sam didn't reply. He hoped they wouldn't do much more driving after Henredon; he really needed some rest.
W
Sam grabbed the First Aid kit from his duffel and opened it, smiling when he saw the blue and white ASA bottle.
Dean was in the shower so Sam had a chance to take the pills without his brother knowing.
Sam shook two out onto his palm, paused, and shook a third one out of the bottle. Swallowing them dry, Sam shoved the kit back into his duffel and grabbed his laptop and climbed onto his bed.
W
Dean stepped from the bathroom, rubbing his hair dry with the thin, white motel towel.
"She's all yours," he said as he passed Sam's bed and flopped down onto his own.
Sam grunted a response, attention focused on the game of Solitaire he was playing.
The sharp trilling of 'Smoke On The Water' filled the tiny motel room and Dean snatched his phone from the nightstand beside his bed.
"Dad? Dad! What the hell's-" Dean began but was interrupted.
"But… Dad-" Dean tried but couldn't get a word in, "Where-"
Dean lowered his phone and looked up at Sam.
"Dad says we've got to get going."
Sam frowned, "What? What do you mean?"
"He said we have to go to this place called Buxton," Dean explained.
"Did Dad say he was there? Did he say where he was? Why do we have to go there?" Sam asked, irritated at his father's mysterious messages.
"All he said was that we had to go to Buxton, Sam," Dean stood and began gathering his things.
"We just got here," Sam said, not moving from his bed, "And you've been driving all day."
Dean almost glared at him, "It sounded urgent. We can't just sit around if Dad has a job for us to do."
Sam sighed and stood, "Did he at least say what was there?"
Dean gave a wry grin, "Nope."
SPN
Dean had insisted on driving. No one was going to drive his baby while he was able. Not even Sam.
The kid was sawing logs in the seat next to his anyway.
Dean knew he should probably be in Sam's place, getting some shut-eye while he could but it wasn't too far to Buxton and he'd pulled all-nighters before.
Reaching out, Dean turned the volume on the radio up just a little more.
'Nights In White Satin' filled the Impala's interior as it careened towards its destination.
SPN
Sam woke with a start, a vision of orange flames seemingly etched into his eyelids.
Leaning forward, Sam forced his gummy eyes open and cleared his throat, frowning when he realized that it was sore.
"We're twenty minutes away," Dean said nonchalantly, ignoring his brother's rude awakening.
Sam cleared his throat, "Uh… okay."
"Have some water," Dean said and grabbed the water bottle sitting beside him, "You sound like you've smoked a pack since you were ten."
Sam took the bottle and drank half its contents, his throat aching fiercely in protest of the lukewarm liquid.
W
The Impala pulled into the parking lot of the local motel- the only motel- in Buxton and Dean got out, heading towards the Office to get them a room.
Sam rubbed his throat, grimacing in pain.
He just had to take some more ASA and he'd be fine. Maybe he'd be able to get some cough syrup tomorrow for his throat.
Sam startled when Dean pulled the car door open and sat down.
"Scare you?" Dean asked with a smirk.
"No," Sam replied instantly.
"Yes I did," Dean continued, "You've gotten soft, College Boy."
Sam didn't answer, his throat hurt too much.
W
Sam tried not to look too relieved when Dean said that they should both get some sleep and start investigating the next morning.
The youngest Winchester crawled into bed gratefully and drew the blankets up to his chin, sighing quietly.
"Jeez, Sam, it's not like you were the one driving all day," Dean muttered from his own bed.
SPN
It was early when Dean was awoken. The sun had not even begun to rise yet and the room was awash in pre-dawn grey.
The eldest Winchester sat up, blinking, wondering what had woken him.
Then he heard it: a dry, hacking cough coming from somewhere across the room.
Instantly on alert, Dean looked over to his brother's bed and saw that it was empty.
Getting up, Dean saw that the bathroom door was closed. He approached it and knocked lightly.
"Sam? You okay in there?"
"D'n," Sam rasped, "G'way."
"Are you okay?" Dean repeated.
A cough was his only answer.
Taking hold of the doorknob, Dean let himself into the bathroom.
Sam was standing at the sink, head bent as he struggled to breathe.
Dean noticed that Sam's hair was sticking to his head with sweat and that his hands trembled as they gripped the edges of the counter.
"Shit, Sam," Dean said and approached his sibling, "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"
The younger man looked up, eyes glazed and red-rimmed.
"M'fine."
Dean reached out and put a palm against his brother's brow, feeling the unhealthy heat radiating off the skin.
"Uh, no you're not," Dean replied and grabbed a washcloth off the shelf across from the toilet.
"How long have you been sick?" he asked as he ran cold water from the tap over the cloth.
"J-Just yester-" Sam's answer was cut off by another bout of dry, hacking coughs.
Dean squeezed the washcloth out and held it against Sam's forehead for a moment. The younger man cringed but then sighed, eyes closing in pleasure at the cool water against his feverish brow.
"Let's get you back to bed," Dean said and gently took his brother's arm.
Sam didn't protest and followed his brother.
"Man, Sam, when you get sick you really get sick," Dean commented, lifting the blanket of Sam's bed so his brother could slip underneath.
"Hmm," Sam muttered, "I do."
Dean smirked, "Why didn't you say anything?"
Sam's expression turned serious, "You n-needed to find D-Dad. Not look after me."
"I don't think Dad's stuck around this time either," Dean said as he pulled the blanket up to Sam's chin, "So it looks like I have my old job back."
Dean knew that Sam would be feeling shitty for a few days than be back to his usual self. He would hold off on the case until he was certain Sam was well enough to get back in the game.
Sam closed his eyes, the white washcloth obscuring his forehead. He looked like he was a little kid again.
Dean smiled despite the fact that his brother wasn't well. He'd been so off lately, so sad since Jessica's death that having something as simple as his big brother look after him, could make him happy- if only for a little while.
Dean patted Sam's chest beneath the blanket. He might not be able to find their father but there was something he could do. Something he had done since he was four years old.
Take care of his baby brother.
Author's Note
1. Thanks to CompassionAndCaring, BranchSuper, shahenaaz08, awesome, SPN Mum, AshleyMarie84, WinchesterGirl2975, Jaden Gracel, Elishab68, L.A.H.H, SamDeanLover28, reannablue, mb64, Jeanny, rhinosgirl and Guests for reviewing.
2. Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed and favourited.
3. Please leave a review and a prompt if you can think of one!
