Hey guys… Looks like I'm on a roll with my writing now… two chapters in less than a week, and I'm all caught up with my papers!!! Oh my, this is a confusing time for me… No class work due and my muse returned to me. : ) Hope you all are enjoying this pleasant turn of events as much as I am!

I was just a wee bit overwhelmed with the response to this story, and I'm very grateful that people are liking this and reviewing. It's nice to know that even though it's been a while, I still have my old readers and new ones joining the bandwagon.

Onto chapter 2… Enjoy!

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'If I can feel again
Will you tell me now
Or wait til I'm broken down again
Save me now
I'm broken'

-Sevendust, Broken Down

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Carrying Sam to the car, then to the motel room, and finally to the farthest bed in their motel room was not as easy as most people write in their stories. Sam was a big guy in general, add the layers and muscles, and the fact that he was a dead weight, and made him nigh on impossible to carry.

Despite all that, Dean did manage to get Sam into the room, and into bed.

Just as he was unlacing Sam's boots, Ruby popped in again, startling Dean. He jerked just a little too hard on the boot in his hand, and it came off easily, sending Dean from his crouched position onto his butt.

Pain shot up his tail bone from his landing on the thinly carpeted floor, and Dean scowled.

Watching him fall, Ruby laughed and asked, "Did I scare ya, Dean?" Her tone mocked him, and Dean scowled again before looking back to Sam, and starting on his other boot. Ruby sobered as she too turned to look at Sam, and walked over to the brother, keeping her eyes on Sam as Dean levered off his other boot and stood.

"What do you want?" Dean asked tired, glancing at her before turning back to look at his pale brother.

"Here," Ruby answered simply, holding out her hands. In the appendages lay extra strength Tylenol, wash cloths, and hot water bottles. Dean looked at her hands, and then up to her face in confusion, not knowing why she was helping them as she was.

"What-?" He started to ask, but she cut him off before he could finish the inquiry.

"You're out of Tylenol, and compresses and hot water bottles seemed to comfort him last time." Dean flinched at the thought of the last time, the time when he wasn't there to help his brother through the pain and sickness.

Though, he mused idly, if I had been here, Sam wouldn't have been in that situation to begin with.

He cut himself from those thoughts, and looked back to Ruby, nodding and taking the supplies from her hands. As he took the supplies, she turned to walk away.

"Make sure you get the water and the Gatorade from the car, you'll need it; he'll get dehydrated easily." He nodded and she added, "If you need help, call me." She sounded calm and passive, but Dean saw the worry on her face, and knew it was for Sam.

When did demons start sharing and caring? Dean internally snarked.

The elder Winchester shook his head and turned to set the supplies on the lone, rickety, motel room table before heading back to Sam. A fine sheen of sweat glazed his brother's too pale skin, and fine tremors shook his lanky frame.

Dean's hand shook as he reached to run his fingers through Sam's dampened, too long hair, and he stilled as he felt the heat radiating from the skin underneath his fingers. Leaving his hand there for a moment, Dean tried to figure out what to do.

He had seen his brother sick before, had helped him through it every time he had been there, but from what Ruby had told him, he didn't know if he had ever seen Sam as sick as he was going to get.

Shaking his head and sighing, Dean moved onto the next task of getting Sam undressed and into a comfortable pair of sweats and a tee shirt. He pulled off the dirty jeans as gently as he could and slipped a pair of Sam's Stanford sweats over his bare legs.

Just as he was pulling a clean shirt over his brother's head, a harsh shiver shook Sam's body, pronounced enough that he noticed it even through the tremors that already ran through his large frame. Dean laid Sam back down and covered him with the motel's flowered comforter.

Walking over to the table, Dean picked up the hot water bottles and went about readying them in the bathroom, before making his way back over to Sam, and regretfully pulling the covers back down. Settling a bottle securely next to each side, Dean then lifted his brother's head and positioned another bottle and a pillow beneath Sam's neck so the younger man would be comfortable.

Looking back to the table, Dean spotted the Tylenol and walked over to grab it before grabbing a foam cup from beside the coffee maker and filling it with water from the bathroom faucet. Returning to his brother's side, Dean sat lightly on the side of the bed and put the water on the nightstand, keeping a firm grip around the Tylenol in his hand.

"Sam?" Dean called, shaking his brother's shoulder in an attempt to rouse him. Sam's forehead creased in annoyance, but other than that, his brother didn't show any signs of waking. Sighing, Dean called out to him again and shook his shoulder a little harder, grinning when his brother cracked his bleary eyes open to look at him.

"Dean- what?" The confusion was evident in the younger Winchester's tone and eyes, and Dean's worry upped a notch.

"You're a little sick, Sammy." Dean soothed, not even noticing how his voice softened in response to his brother's alarm. Sam's confusion didn't fade, in fact the fear in his eyes intensified and Dean put a hand on his neck, a move that had always calmed Sam when he was little.

"Shh, Sammy, you're okay. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I won't let anything happen to you." I hope. The fear faded and Sam's eyes closed as he nodded.

"Tired," he whisper, already drifting. Hating to do it, but knowing he had to, Dean shook Sam again, making sure he stayed awake.

"What?" Sam asked, clearly confused and a little irritated.

"Not so fast, little brother, I need you to take some Tylenol and then you can go back to sleep." More like unconsciousness. Dean mentally added with a frown.

Sam's eyes opened again, and he pulled his arms back to try and lever himself up. Seeing the unsteadiness in those arms, Dean pulled his hand from Sam's neck and guided him up, keeping hold of the younger man as he handed Sam then pills and reached for the water. Sam put the pills on his tongue and reached to take the cup from Dean, but the shaking in his hands was enough for Dean to press the cup to his lips instead.

"Thanks," Sam breathed after he had finished the water, and Dean was helping him to lie back down. His hand found its previous spot on the side of Sam's neck, and rested there as his brother watched him through heavily lidded eyes.

"It's no problem Sammy, get some sleep." Dean's voice was soft, the suggestion more of a soft command and Sam nodded, already drifting.

Dean stayed there, just watching Sam for a while after he had fallen asleep. His hand stayed where it was, the gesture more of a comfort to Dean than Sam, the older man suspected, not knowing what he would do when the sickness got worse.

He knew he should get the compress, but his body seemed to have settled next to Sam, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force himself to move away from his brother. As long as he was there watching him, feeling his pulse beneath his palm, Sam was still with him, but without the steady throb and warm skin under his hand, Dean feared he would lose his control.

C'mon little brother, pull through this.

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A/N: Oh man, I really have to hide the Jolly Ranchers, I smell like watermelon and my writing is getting fruitier by the second. *Slaps her palm to her forehead.* Not to mention they give me a sugar high every time…

Anyway, hope you all liked.

Take care and review often,

DS