"I'm fine." Dean's fever had gone down, but his cough still sounded horrible.

"No, you're not. You're obviously sick." Sam crossed his arms.

"Alright, maybe just a little. We've had worse. It's nothing."

"Still, take it easy, okay? We're not going anywhere until you're better."

Dean glared. "We're leaving as soon as we find a case."

"You know, if you'd go to the doctor-"

"Oh, hell no."

"Dean-"

"I said no!" He snapped. "It's nothing, just a bug, it'll run its course and I'll be fine."

"Geez, okay."

"Jackpot!" Dean exclaimed, trying not to break into a coughing fit. He'd finally stumbled across a freaky news article.

Sam wasn't fooled. "No. We'll call another hunter to take care of it."

"Are you kidding? Gordon told everybody you're the freaking antichrist. We can't call anyone."

Sam tried not to let the reminder bother him. "Well then I'll take care of it." He pulled up a chair. "What's the case?"

"We'll do it together, like we always do." Dean said stubbornly. "Here. Read." He turned the laptop towards Sam and went to the fridge for a beer.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. His brother could be infuriating sometimes. Well, most of the time. He turned his attention to the article. House with a violent history: previous owner killed himself; new family moves in, dad gets brutally murdered. No sign of a break in. Sounded like a simple salt and burn. It was only an hour drive...

"We're getting a little low on supplies."

"You'll live without alcohol for a couple days, you know."

"No, I'm serious. Come take a look."

Sam went over, and had to admit that Dean was right. The fridge was virtually empty, and the only thing left in the freezer was a single box of frozen waffles. "Alright, I'll go shopping. You stay here, research the case. I'll make the drive tonight."

"I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not. It sounds easy. I can do it on my own."

"If it's so easy, why can't I come?"

Sam and Dean glared at each other. "We'll talk about this when I get back from the store." The younger Winchester grabbed the Impala's keys and walked out, secretly relieved to have an excuse to leave the motel. He was beginning to get restless.

He enjoyed the silence. It was nice to drive in peace without 80's rock blaring in his ears.

On the way home from the store, he heard the police scanner come on. He turned it up to see if anything interesting was happening.

"All units, we have an APB out on a stolen vehicle. Blue 1982 Pontiac Firebird, License plate..."

Ah. Car theft. Not their department. Nice model though, Dean would've said the thief had classy taste in cars.

Sam returned to the motel with the groceries. The bathroom light was on, and the door was shut. "I'm back." He called out. There was no response, but Sam figured his brother was still upset, and ignoring him. He put the food away, then knocked on the door. "Dean?"

Still no answer...

He turned the handle and the door swung open, revealing an empty bathroom. He looked around the room and realized Dean's jacket was gone, as well as the duffel bag.

It was then that he made the connection. The stolen car...

"Dammit, Dean."

Dean flew down the highway, blasting an obscure classic rock station. He grinned. It felt good to be back on the job. He'd done the research and was pretty sure it was an open-and-shut case. Simple; drive to the graveyard, dig the bastard up, and torch him. He ignored the tight feeling and slight pain in his chest as he had another coughing fit. Despite what Sam thought, he really was fine. The cough was nothing serious, just annoying.

Speaking of Sam...his cell phone started to ring. Yeah, no way in hell he was answering that. His little brother was probably really pissed right about now.

Dean made the drive in a little under 45 minutes, arriving at the cemetery just as the sun was going down. He quickly located the man's grave, and set to work digging.

He hadn't even been working for ten minutes when he began to cough more violently. His chest tightened, and he felt a sharp, stabbing pain. He stopped for breath, and resumed digging. The pain returned with a vengeance. He couldn't stop coughing. It felt like his lungs were on fire. His vision blurred and he felt weak. He leaned against the shovel for support. This was gonna take forever...

Sam had called Dean's cell at least four times. He wasn't picking up, and he hoped Dean was just ignoring him. He hated to think what the alternative might be.

He's probably fine. Sam thought to himself. We've done this a million times, and he's really not that sick, right?

Although Dean had the common sense to turn off the GPS on his cell, it wasn't too hard to figure out where he was headed. Sam pulled up the obituary of the man who'd killed himself in that house, and found out which cemetery he was buried in.

Upon arriving, Sam spotted the stolen car. He shined the flashlight around, and it didn't take long to find Dean. (Who else would be digging up a grave this time of night?)

He walked over, fully intending to say a few choice words. But when he reached the gravesite, his scowl faded to a worried frown. Dean was gasping for air, and there was a concerning rattle every time he drew a breath. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, and maybe it was the moonlight, but the older hunter looked unusually pale. He was leaning against the shovel, and he barely looked up.

"Hey, Sammy. What took you so long?" He managed to smirk.

"You're an idiot." Sam shoved the flashlight at his brother, taking the shovel out of his hands and beginning to dig.

"Hey! I was...doing...just fine." Dean panted, rubbing his chest.

"Yeah, right."

Sam quickly unearthed the coffin, and sprung it open. He wrinkled his nose. The man was only beginning to decompose. He poured salt and gasoline on the corpse, and reached into his pocket for a light.

"Oh, shit!" He heard Dean yelp. "Hurry, Sam, torch the sucker!" Sam felt the temperature drop as the ghost made an appearance. It rushed him, but not before he had a chance to throw a lit match into the casket.

The apparition went up in flames just in time. Sam let out a breath. That was close. He let the fire destroy the body completely before shutting the coffin and climbing out of the hole.

The first thing he noticed was Dean sitting on the ground, clutching his chest. "Hey, what's going on?" He knelt beside him.

"Nothing. Just...a little...out of breath." he pushed his brother away. "Fill...fill the damn hole."

Dean was wheezing, and it sounded like he was having a hard time getting air. The rattling noise was more noticeable, and he couldn't stop coughing.

Sam re-buried the casket in record time, anxious to take a closer look at Dean. "Come on, let's get you in the car."

Dean was uncharacteristically compliant as Sam helped him into the Impala, not even putting up a fight when he took his keys and insisted on driving.

"Well, what are you waiting fo-woah, what are you doing?" Dean asked irritably as Sam reached over to feel his forehead.

"Your fever is back."

"No it's not. I'm just hot." Dean smiled at his own pun.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Ha. I'm taking you to an Emergency Room."

"What? Why?" This exclamation caused him to start coughing again.

"Really?"

"It's...nothing." He rasped. "Please, Sammy."

As worried as he was, Sam knew why Dean was so reluctant to go to the doctor. Last time they were in a hospital, their father had never walked out.

"Okay, I'll give you one more day. If it gets worse, I'm taking you in."

"Fine."

"Alright, let's get out of here. I packed the rest of our stuff, we've gotta find another motel. They're gonna find that stolen car and trace it back to us eventually."

Dean slept as they drove, which was another oddity. He never could sleep on the road, even when they were kids. Sam kept the radio off, listening to his brother's labored breathing. He was tempted to forget their deal and drive him straight to the nearest ER, but he knew Dean would be pissed. Maybe it was just the overexertion of stealing a car and digging up a body. That would certainly do the trick.

Hey, I just wanted to say thanks to all my readers! You guys are my inspiration, and my motivation to keep writing. I love hearing from you: your thoughts, ideas, reactions, even constructive criticism on how to improve my writing. Pretty please leave a review! :) I'll upload the next chapter as soon as I can :)