Nothing Short of Invincible.
Part Two.

"I'm ok, S'mmy", Dean slurred when Sam wrapped a freakishly strong arm around his waist and helped up off the cold tile floor, Dean's hand gripping tightly to the sink as the room started to spin, turning his knuckles white.

The floor appeared to drop from beneath him and he cursed under his breath when he realised he was only being held upright by his brother. His weedy little 'Samantha', who over the last year or two seemed to have developed a muscular frame, replacing the scrawny teenage figure Dean remembered.

When did Sam get strong enough to hold Dean up?

Sam didn't seem to acknowledge Dean's poor attempt to assure his younger brother that he was perfectly capable of walking to the bed by himself. The journey seemed to take forever, with Sam holding Dean tightly around his middle while the older Winchester stumbled through another dizzy spell and although he'd never admit it out loud, he was secretly glad that Sam had hold of him.

The sheets on Dean's bed were damp with sweat, so Sam decided to put Dean in his bed instead, pulling blankets tightly around his older brother. Sam knew that Dean must have been feeling pretty bad when he allowed Sam to put him to bed and tuck him in with no arguments or sarcastic comments, something that had never happened before no matter how sick Dean had been.

Sam leaned over and brushed a section of Dean's dark hair back from his forehead and replaced it with his hand, wincing at how abnormally hot his brother felt. Dean squirmed against the touch when Sam moved his hand to cup Dean's cheek, finding the hand cold and uncomfortable.

"You're still pretty hot, Dean."

"Thanks", Dean half smirked when Sam removed his hand, eyes at half mast and not really registering when Sam mentioned something about meds and getting his temperature down.

"Just get some rest dude, you look terrible." Sam said when he noticed that Dean wasn't paying attention, taking in the slight glistening sheen of sweat on his brother's paling skin, and the darkening circles around his green eyes.

"I feel terrible."

Dean stifled a yawn before letting out a sharp cough and wrapping his arms around himself, willing the throbbing in every muscle he possessed to stop. Even though the hoodie he now had on was much warmer than the old black t-shirt he'd previously been wearing, chills still jolted through his muscular frame.

He weakly wiped his cheek with his sleeve and cast his mind back to the last time he'd even seen the dark hoodie, guessing it would have been the time that he bust out of the hospital after suffering the heart attack.
Damn, electricity's a bitch.

He looked up to see Sam at the end of the opposite bed, but the image of his brother searching though his duffel bag for a clean shirt started to blur and the light suddenly seemed too bright, making his headache almost unbearable and forcing him to curl up under the thick burnt-orange duvet, whimpering.

Sam turned around at the sound, fully clothed once more and thoroughly worn out due to taking care of a sick Dean, scanning the shivering lump under the covers of his bed and taking a slow breath. He truly felt sorry for Dean right now, he didn't get sick often but when he did he got the full package.

When Sam peeled back the corner of the duvet he found that Dean was practically wiped out and drifting on the edge of sleep, leaving an exhausted Sam to decide whether he could physically fight sleep any longer himself. Glancing from his brother to the opposite bed he realised that they now only had one bed to share seeing as he didn't really fancy sleeping in the damp space his brother had left in the now deserted bed.

Yawning, he pulled the covers back slightly and crawled under the thick comforter next to Dean, a light smile forming on his lips as Dean shifted into the warmth of his younger brother's side, in the exact same way that a much younger Sam would do to a teenage Dean when he got sick.

"S'mmy..." Dean drowsily whispered against his brother's side.

"Yeah? I'm right here, Dean" Sam looked down at the curled up form of his older brother, a pained expression on his now flushed face.

"Light"

After reaching up and flicking off the light, Sam listening through the darkness but could only hear the soft sound of his brother's steady breathing. Assuming that Dean was now falling asleep, he shifted his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, yawning.

"Sammy...", came an almost inaudible whisper through the darkened room, alerting a half asleep Sam that Dean was infact, still awake.

"Mm?"

"Cold."

Without even opening his eyes, Sam rolled over and pulled the duvet further around Dean wrapping his arm around him as well, not really registering that he was cuddling his big brother.

"Better?"

A faint nod against his chest signaled that it was, and Sam decided it was ok to allow sleep to wash over him. Just before he succumbed to sleep entirely another faint whisper filled the otherwise silent room.

"Sammy..."

"Yeah?" An almost frustrated sigh escaped Sam's lips as he snapped his eyes open, staring up at the dark ceiling before feeling bad about getting pissed, knowing Dean was feeling like shit.

"Head hurts."

"I know, another couple of hours and you can have some more painkillers", Sam whispered back. Dean groaned lightly before falling silent again while Sam struggled to stay conscious.

"Sammy..."

This time, Sam didn't answer.

"Sam?"

Dean gently rubbed his forehead against Sam's shirt, the only response he received being light snores from his exhausted brother.

"Thanks."

TCB
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