Dean felt himself starting to drift off to sleep. He had his arms supporting his head, which was now swaying back and forth. He kept jumping up, making coffee, anything to stay awake. He needed to look out for Sam, make sure he doesn't get any worse. Dean glanced at the clock, it read 4:05 and he blinked rapidly. Well, if Sam was gonna get worse, he would of already. I need to get some sleep. With that Dean kicked off his shoes and lay down on top of the covers. Within moments he was sound asleep.
"AHHHH" He heard the yelling first, he couldn't seem to shoot open his eyes fast enough. He threw his body in the upright position and he shot his glance at Sam who was moving around from side to side, rocking quickly. He was yelling, loudly, obviously in pain. Dean darted to his side and laid his hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Sammy?" Dean yelled loudly. He was trying anything to do anything he could to comfort Sam, to get him to quite enough so he could tell him what's wrong. But nothing was working; Dean crouched down, eye level to Sam, whose eyes were shut so tight it appeared as if he were trying to fight a bad dream. The tears were falling from them regardless and it hit Dean right in the heart. Sam let out another massive yell like scream. "Ok now we are going to the hospital" Dean half angrily said. He shot up and grabbed his keys off of the little end table. He opened the motel door and he quickly started the roaring engine. He stalked back in and flipped the covers off of the obvious sweating grown man who was still writhing in pain.
"Dean" Sam breathed through the pain. "Dean help me" Sam whispered out as Dean grabbed under his arms to hoist him up.
"I am Sam." Dean chocked the words out. It was like Sam was barely standing on his own at all, he was pretty much dead weight as he began to pass out. "Hey Sam?" Dean patted his very hot face when he realized. "Come on buddy, we have to stay awake, we will be at the hospital in just a few minutes." Dean kept patting Sam's face but to no prevail. "Come on Sammy" Dean tried again. But nothing. Sam finally collapsed in a heap on the floor, much to Dean's dismay. He crouched down next to the heavy breathing individual. He pushed Sam's shoulder slightly, trying to get him to stir, but nothing. "Damn it." Dean huffed. He searched his pockets for his phone, but upon feeling nothing he darted for the door, he threw himself at the running impala and began rifling through it. Upon feeling the small black object on the floor he grabbed it up quickly. Silence fell throughout the motel parking lot. "Sam?!" Dean yelled loudly and he ran back in to the heap who was now breathing raggedly.
"Dean?" Sam asked groggily. "What's going on?" He was trying to get himself into an upright position. But weakly lowered himself back down. Dean dropped to his knees next to the now conscious man. He felt his forehead.
"Hm" Dean curiously sighed. "Your fever seems to be breaking." Dean commented just as confused as he looked.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Nothing. Let's just get you back in the bed." Dean muttered lightly. His phone still tight in his grip. He helped Sam back under the covers and walked around the room for a second.
The impala was sitting in the parking lot still running and Dean approached it looking almost angry. He sat in the drivers seat and turned the key in the ignition shutting off the loudly blubbering engine. He ran his hands over his face slowly and glanced down at the phone. He flipped it open and scrolled down to the name Bobby. He hit call and it rang twice before the gruff voice answered.
"Hello?" The groggy tired old man asked.
"I need some help Bobby." Dean admitted sighing loudly.
"Do you know what time it is?" Bobby asked angrily. But upon hearing Dean's voice he quickly softened. "What's wrong?"
"Sam and I…" Dean faded out. But quickly caught himself. "We were hunting a vamp in South Carolina. Bobby, I think Sam is really sick." Dean finished.
"How sick is he?" Bobby's voice mimicked the same worry Dean was wearing not but three minutes ago.
"He was running a high temperature, he was puking, he has headaches." Dean admitted.
"Well, what hospital is Sam in? I will be there as soon as I can." Bobby sounded like he was looking through something.
"Well Bobby, he isn't in a hospital." Dean drug the last part out and he waited for the blow up.
"What do you mean?" Bobby asked now all attention on the phone.
"Well, when Sam was getting worse he asked me not to take him to a hospital." Dean sighed, now realizing how stupid it sounded.
"And you listened to him?!" Bobby yelled loudly.
"I had to Bobby, you didn't see the kids face." Dean pleaded loudly. "But that isn't what is getting to me." Dean finally said after a few seconds of silence on the phone. "His fever is just gone."
"What are you talking about, his fever just vanished?" Bobby asked. He was quite for another second.
"Yeah Sam had this weird attack, and now, his fever feels like it has broken." Dean rubbed his hand through his hair.
"Well, I will still be there, give me four hours." With that he hung up. Dean sighed loudly as he closed the phone. He closed the door and he slowly trudged back inside. Sam was lying there, completely quite, his breathing back to normal. Dean walked over and laid the back of his hand on Sam's forehead for a second time. It felt cool to the touch. He flopped down on his bed and laid back, still glancing at Sam every couple of minutes. His eyes slowly fluttered closed. He's ok. Dean thought to himself, he's ok.