Set during the trials, Sam is getting sicker and sicker, and Dean, being the wonderful big brother he is, is trying so hard to take care of him, but Sam won't let him. He keeps arguing about how he's independent, how he doesn't need to be coddled, he just needs to get on with it and do his job. Cut to the brothers fighting about it and it comes out that Sam doesn't feel like he is worth taking care of (maybe because he's an abomination [like he remembers Cas saying "Sam, of course is an abomination and Dean not saying anything in his defense and all of heaven agreeing] or because of the voicemail or something.) And Dean sets him straight about how much Sam means to him.

Prompt from: upandcoming2.0

Sometime after 8.19 "Taxi Driver."

Other Notes: Okay. I saw this prompt and I just had to jump on it. I loved writing this prompt. I hope it's what you wanted, i tried my best to fill it :P Enjoy!


When Sam woke up that morning, he felt like shit. He even felt worse than he had felt the night before, and Sam didn't even know that was possible. Then again, with all the crap he's been through, he should consider it a blessing that he's still alive.

The first trial hadn't been bad. When Sam had killed the hellhound and chanted the words that started this whole mess, he expected some repercussions, because getting out of something like that unscathed was too lucky for him. What he didn't expect was for him to start coughing up blood. He hated that it had to be that and not something that was easier to hide from his brother. Although, Sam had managed to keep it to himself for a few weeks before Dean put his foot down and told Sam he knew about the blood. Seeing the worry and hurt that were evident in his brother's eyes when they were in the car ride home was enough to make Sam feel guilty. If he had known that Dean would react the way he did... no, he still would've done the same thing. Dean was dealing with enough crap as it was and Sam really didn't want to burden him with something that Sam could handle himself perfectly fine.

Then the second trial came and went. Dean hadn't been too happy about Sam having to take a stroll through purgatory and he was silent for the first few days that followed that. Sam had assumed that it was because of Benny and how Sam failed to save him, but deep down, Sam knew it wasn't because of that and it wasn't anything Sam had done. Dean wasn't just grieving for a lost friend, but he was mad at himself for not pushing for more information before even making the decision of sending his brother back to the pit to save Bobby.

On the other hand, Sam had felt fine after he had come home from purgatory. He was a little battered and bruised, but nothing he hasn't dealt with on occasion while hunting. Then the next day came, along with the hot flashes. It started out as dizziness and heatwaves and formed into a full blown fever with everything in between. Sam was just glad he wasn't vomiting, but he didn't want to even think about it in fear that he might push his luck.

With Dean occupied for the first few days back at the bunker, Sam found it easy to hide his illness from his brother, and for that Sam was grateful. He loved his brother, but Sam really didn't want to be coddled like he was a kid again. He was an independent adult and he could take care of himself. Or at least, that's what Sam forces himself to believe. In reality, though, Sam just thought that he really wasn't worth being taken care of. With all the stunts he pulled, all the evil he's released, he's surprised his brother had tolerated him for so long. Not to mention the fact that he was almost certain that Dean wasn't a big fan of the whole "chick-flick-moments" that came along with taking care of his pain in the ass little brother. He was an abomination, or at least according to Castiel, and Dean didn't say anything in is defense, so why should Sam bother to be sick if there was no one to happily take care of him?

Sam could take the shaky legs, the fever, the dizziness, but he couldn't take Dean forcing himself to do something he didn't want to, even if it included taking care of a sick Sam. That's why Sam just learned to push on and keep doing his job, it was easier to ignore the pain that way, it was easier to convince his brother that he was indeed alright.

So that's why he's not telling Dean. Sam was fine, and if he believed that then Dean would... right?

Getting unsteadily to his feet, Sam glanced at his alarm clock and saw that it read '6:00 A.M.' Basically, it was around the same time that he got up everyday, but for some reason he felt like the eight hours of sleep he had gotten were nonexistent. Sighing, he walked out of his bedroom before he could convince himself that a few more hours of sleep wouldn't hurt.

He didn't go to the kitchen, no, he couldn't be around food at that moment without the threat of breaking his no-vomit streak. Everything smelled like rotten meat to him, so Sam decided to ignore his growling stomach and instead go to the library to see if there was a case that could be found. It would help both of the brothers if they could get out and clear their heads by doing their job. Saving people, hunting things, it's what they did and it's what Sam practically lives for nowadays. It was an excuse to escape the hell hole of shit that's just been piling higher and higher every passing year.

He must've been in the library, sitting at a table and browsing some news sites, for almost an hour before Dean emerged, already dressed in a shirt and loose jeans.

"There you are," Dean greeted, coming up to stand by where he was sitting. "Thought you'd still be eating down in the kitchen."

"Wasn't hungry," Sam shrugged, clicking on a few promising news stories.

"By that comment, I'm guessing you haven't had breakfast," Dean concluded.

"Well, you guessed right. I'll eat a bit later," Sam replied, still not taking his eyes of the screen.

"When was the last time you ate?" Dean asked, and Sam didn't have to look over his shoulder to see his brother was frowning.

"Don't know," Sam just shrugged once again.

It was silent for a few moments before Dean spoke up, "You feeling alright, man?"

"I feel fine," Sam gave his automatic response.

"Yeah, well, I sense bullshit," Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"Good for you," Sam cleared his throat before coughing into his fist a few times, turning away from his brother's view. He absentmindedly wiped his his bloody fist against his black sweats and continued browsing.

"Sam..." Dean began.

"Hey, so I'm pretty sure I found a case," Sam announced, successfully cutting off his brother. "Rock Hill, Missouri. Authorities found the body of a man down by the river a few days ago. They estimated him dead for about two months, but his neighbors claim that they saw him in perfect health just the other day..."

"Sam," Dean tried again.

"I'm thinking shapeshifter," Sam continued.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed in exasperation as he gently closed the laptop screen. "Slow down a bit, okay?"

Sam frowned, "Why?"

"Have you looked in the mirror lately, dude?" Dean said. "You look like someone threw you off a cliff."

"That's a new one," Sam scoffed in amusement.

"Sam, I'm serious," Dean sighed. He went to place a hand on Sam's forehead but Sam slapped it away before standing up, stumbling a little bit before gaining his footing.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam repeated.

"Like hell you are," Dean wasn't buying it. "Come on, lets head down to the kitchen. Maybe some food will make you feel better, or at least look... not so pale. I'll even make you an omelette for good measure."

"I think I'll pass. Why don't we hit the road and we'll be able to reach Missouri by tonight if we hurry," Sam went to walk away, but his brother grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"I'll have Garth go check it out, but you're not going anywhere, Sam," Dean shook his head.

"I can take care of myself, Dean, I'm not a little kid anymore." Sam grounded his teeth together. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"

Sam jerked free of Dean's grasp and headed towards his room. Surprisingly, Dean let him go without a fight. And if that didn't break Sam's heart a little bit, well... he'd never admit it.


For the next few days, Sam had done his best to avoid his brother's prying eyes. Ever since that little library fiasco, Dean had respected his brother's privacy, but Sam still woke up some mornings to find that there was a glass of water on his bedside table along with Tylenol. There were other days where Sam would go to the library and Dean would wordlessly come over to put a bowl of soup next to him before leaving him alone.

Sam didn't know why it annoyed him that his brother was looking out for him. He felt like he should be ecstatic and maybe it was a sign that his brother did care about him, but Sam didn't want to fool himself with false hope. Dean just needed Sam around long enough to close the gates of hell, and then afterwards Dean may just leave Sam by his lonesome for all he knew.

So when Sam started coughing so forcefully, he couldn't stop himself from going to his knees. He was hunched over on his shaky hands, coughing up blood onto the wooden floor below him. It felt like a lung was trying to force itself out of his body and Sam's body was wracking from the force of the coughing, and Sam started to freak out when he couldn't breath.


Dean was in the kitchen, preparing himself some food, when he heard the coughing start. His first instinct was to run over to the source of his brother and demand Sam to see that he wasn't okay and that he needed to let someone take care of him before he really was in trouble. But, for Sam's sake, Dean had to square his shoulders and clench his fists so that he would stay put. Sam had to break first, it was his life and Dean couldn't control a situation that his brother didn't want help with.

However, when Dean heard the wheezing, he didn't hesitate to let his plate drop from his hands as he quickly started sprinting towards the noise. By the time the plate hit the ground, Dean was already in the library and he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

Sam was on his hands and knees, coughing up blood onto the floor while hacking so forcefully that his body was shaking.

"Shit..." Dean cursed, running to kneel by his brother's side. He placed a hand on his brother's back. "You got to calm down, Sammy."

"D'n?" Sam coughed in between wheezing. "Can't... breath..."

"If you're talking to me then you can breath damn fine," Dean replied, his worry causing his voice to become stern. "Calm down, Sam. If you get worked up it's gonna get worse. Just let it out."

When Sam showed no signs of calming down anytime soon, Dean threw every thought aside and pulled his brother into his arms to cradle his brother's head against his chest.

"Match my breathing, Sammy," Dean coaxed.

Dean knew that his shirt was going to be covered and blood, but he didn't care. If he could get Sam to calm down and breath then things would be much better.

It took a few minutes, which seemed like eternity to Dean, until his little brother was able to take a shaky, yet deep, breath on his own.

"You good?" Dean asked quietly, his hold around his brother firm.

"I'm fine," Sam went to disentangle himself from his brother to stand up.

Dean didn't stop him, but there was anger flashing in his eyes, "Can you cut the bullshit? You are not fine and I don't care if you try to deny it, Sam. It's easy to see."

"I'm..." Sam began.

"I swear to god, if you say 'I'm fine' one more time I will personally kick your ass myself," Dean threatened.

Sam's face grew determined, "Just let it go, Dean, alright?"

"Let it go?" Dean demanded. "Sam you just had a coughing fit that turned into a damn panic attack! How on earth am I supposed to let that go?"

"I'm not..." Sam tried to cut in.

Dean interrupted his brother once again, "No. Let me speak, you shut up and you listen to me very carefully 'cause I'm gonna only say this once. I get it, okay? You're an adult, you're not a kid, but god Sammy, you have to see that you're just wasting away, man. You gotta let someone help you. Let me help you!"

"Yeah, well maybe it's best if you just leave it be," Sam's posture was rigid, and Dean could sense his brother's tension.

"What the hell is going on with you man? Why won't you let anyone take care of you?" Dean exclaimed.

"Maybe because I'm not worth being taken care of!" Sam burst out.

Dean froze in place, mainly out of shock at what he just heard.

When Sam finally realized exactly what had come out of his mouth, he seemed to deflate and his posture turned into defeat.

Had Dean heard his brother correctly? Guilt flashed through him as he wondered when he let things get so bad between them. How could Sammy think he wasn't worth it? Dean thought he was. "Sammy..."

"Dean, just don't okay?" Sam sighed. "I don't need your pity."

"Good, because what I was about to say isn't pitiful, Sam. Look at me, man," Dean said.

When Sam didn't look up from where he was staring at his feet, Dean walked up to him and tilted his brother's face up so they could talk eye to eye. "Listen to me, Sammy. I don't know where on Earth you got that crazy idea, but you're damn wrong. You're worth saving, you're worth being taken care of when you're not yourself. You're worth it to me. Sam, you're a pain in the ass, but you're my pain in the ass little brother. I'm not going anywhere whether you like it or not."

"What about what Cas said? You didn't say anything back..." Sam was close to tears and he hated himself for it.

"What?" Dean frowned in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sam."

"When Cas said I was an abomination..." Sam began.

"He didn't mean it like that, Sam," Dean sighed. "Besides, it was years ago and times were much more tense than the are now. Cas sees you as a ally, a friend and if you haven't proved yourself to him yet after everything you've done, then he's a blind son of a bitch."

"But how... I didn't look for you in purgatory but I didn't... you wanted me gone..." Sam looked like he was about to have a break down.

"Sam..." Dean ran a hand through his hair. "If I wanted you gone, you would've been gone a long time ago. Right now in this crappy world, you're the only thing that's giving me the will to be alive. I can't lose you, you're the only family I got left."

Sam just nodded as he felt a tear finally break lose and Sam quickly wiped it away, only to have more spill over. Sam just looked back at the ground, not wanting Dean to see him cry like a five-year old.

"Hey," Dean gripped his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Come here," Dean gently wrapped his arms around his brother's back and drew him into a welcoming and calming embrace.

Sam broke down at the point and clutched onto his brother as he silently felt tears fall down his face, his breathing occasionally hitching every now and then.

"Stone number one, Sam," Dean said. "We're either in it together or not at all."

Sam just nodded and pulled away a few minutes later, wiping away the last of the offending tears that were falling down his cheeks. he cleared his throat. "Stone number one," He repeated.

"Don't you forget it," Dean nodded. "Come on, enough with the chick-flicks, yeah? Lets get you into bed and you can catch a few hours of sleep."

Sam just nodded as he let his brother guide him through the halls. He wasn't sure when it happened, but he felt drained and just so damn tired. Sleep actually sounded really appealing at that moment.

When they arrived at Sam's room, Sam just walked inside and crawled back under the covers. If he felt another blanket drape over him and a hand slightly ruffle his hair, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, he felt himself slip into a deep sleep, feeling a sense of comfort as he knows that his brother is just a call away if he needed him.


Don't forget to request prompt if you want to! You can request as many as you like :-)

I hope you guys enjoyed it and I hope it fit the prompt well!

Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!