It was Dean who finally opened the door and let his father in. The kid looked miserable, there were dark circles under his eyes and his short hair was sticking up everywhere. Looking for Sam, John saw him sprawled out on the boy's bed, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer blasting ironically from the TV, and the cards spread out on the covers. John immediately flicked off the TV, the noise making his head pound.
"Sam's asleep?"
"Yeah, he's still tired from this weekend a little I think." Dean's voice was so congested it didn't even sound like him. Suddenly he erupted into a coughing fit. The sharp barking noise made John cringe.
"Kay, clean up the cards, kid. Then I have some of that cough stuff for you."
Dean being Dean never made a noise and wordlessly cleaned up the cards as John put the groceries away and arranged the little apothecary on the counter. He poured the correct dose of cough syrup into the little plastic cup and in a glass mixed up some of the Kool-Aid. In another glass he poured up a shot of the whisky and then put the bottle above the cupboard.
"Dean.."
Dean walked over slowly, "Do I have to?" But one sharp look from John, who was already in a foul mood, silenced any more complaints and Dean put his arm out and swallowed the medicine like a soldier swallowing orders. John shot the glass of whisky himself and gave Dean the Kool-Aid to wash the taste down. He then reached out and felt the kid's forehead and was disappointed to find that the Tylenol from earlier had had no effect.
"You must be feeling pretty shi… awful." John caught himself.
Dean didn't say anything. But that was his way. He was silent when he felt the worst.
"I need a nap," John started. "You should get some more sleep too," he said locking the door.
Dean started back to his bed next to Sam.
"You probably should crash in my bed Dean. So Sammy doesn't get sick again."
"Okay."
Dean crawled in bed next to John and all three of them slept through the morning.