Walk a Little Straighter, Daddy

Cough. Ache. Sniffle.

"Here's dinner, bud," he croaked.

"T'ank you." He dug into the macaroni.

Plops on the couch, dizzy, cold.

Wants his dad, wishes for his mom.

"Dean, you otay?"

"I'm fine, eat."

"You sick?"

"I'll be okay."

He dozed, until something cold fell over his body.

Sam threw a blanket over him, a pillow under his head.

"Sammy-"

"'S otay, Dean."

Little hands handed him the bear. Sam jumped up onto the couch.

"You makes me feels better all da time. Imma help you dis time." Dean hugged his little brother. He didn't need Daddy. He needed Sammy.

Tbc…