Chapter Thirteen

Sam woke up to the sound of his brother being sick. He scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom, where the older brother kneeled in front of the toilet, dry heaving. Sam grimaced, crouching next to Dean and putting his hands on his brother's sweaty back and shoulder, supporting him. Dean kept dry heaving for a long time, finally slumping into Sam, unable to keep himself up anymore. Sam held onto him, pulling him closer to his chest. Heat was radiating off of Dean in waves and Sam cursed inwardly.

The lowest Dean's fever got in the past day was 102.5, and it was definitely much higher now. Sam had been considering taking his brother to a hospital for more than a day, but Dean argued so vehemently against it, that Sam was pretty sure he'd just check himself out the moment they got there.

Sam leaned Dean against the bathroom wall without any resistance, which only worried him farther. Getting to his feet with a grunt, he refilled the empty glass standing on the sink and grabbed a face towel, wetting it. Sam crouched next to Dean again, handing him the glass, but other than fixing it a long, exhausted look, Dean remained just as Sam had left him.

"Come on, Dean, you have to drink." Sam cajoled. "Just try, okay? For me?" Sam tried when he got no response. Dean glanced at him, his face pale, his cheeks flushed, dark circles under his eyes and the sheen of sweat covering his entire body. He reached a shaky hand towards the water glass, but let his hand drop before he reached it, closing his eyes in exhaustion. Sam gave a weak, encouraging smile that went unnoticed, and put the glass to his brother's lips. Dean took a couple of unsure sips and then averted his head, his eyes still closed. Sam reached over, putting his hand on his brother's forehead. Dean was burning up. Sam pressed the wet towel to the back of Dean's neck, getting no response.

"Does that feel any better?" Sam asked. Dean nodded lightly. "You want to try and drink some more?" he offered, but Dean just gave a slight shake of his head, making Sam frown. "You really need some fluids, Dean, just a couple more sips, okay?" he tried, bringing the glass back to Dean's lips, but this time Dean didn't cooperate. Racking his fingers through his hair, Sam got to his feet. Dean felt too warm, he needed to know how high his fever got. The answer made his heart hammer, made him curse. Dean's fever got up to 105.2.

"Dean, I really think we should get you to a hospital." Sam said seriously.

"No hospitals." Dean breathed.

"Dean," Sam bit his lip, hesitating. He had to get the fever down, and fast. Sam sighed, turning on the cold water in the shower. He took a couple of pills from the first aid kit and crouched by Dean's side again. "You have to take these, Dean. Now." Sam said assertively, helping Dean with the pills, glad to see his brother drink a little more this time.

Sam left his brother for only a couple of minutes, going outside to get some ice, receiving looks from the people around. He was, after all, getting ice on a cold day at the end of January. But Sam didn't even notice them. He got the ice and poured it in the shower.

He tested the water temperature, and when he was sure it was cold enough, Sam went over to Dean. His breathing seemed labored. It seemed so wrong to Sam, felt so unnatural. Dean was the strong one, Dean was the one that always took care of everything. Sam hated seeing him like this. Dean rarely got sick, but when he did, it usually got pretty bad.

"Come on, grandpa, let's get you to your feet." Sam muttered, slipping his hands under Dean's arms and yanking him to his feet, sitting him down on the closed toilet lid as Sam helped Dean take his clothes off.

"Sammy?" Dean opened a heavy lidded eye.

"Yeah?"

"The hell are you doing?" Dean croaked, "No way I had this much to drink…" Sam couldn't help but smile.

"You have a really high fever, you need to take a shower to get it down." Sam explained patiently.

"Oh." Dean said, doing his best to keep his head upright. "Don't you dare take my underwear off, perv. I know you, can't wait to get your hands on all of this…" he said cockily, motioning at his body. It might have been funny, if he hadn't started coughing at that moment. Sam patted his back, trying to help his older brother breathe easier, but it still took some time for the coughing to stop.

"Dean, you should really see a doctor…"

"Only if she's waiting for me in bed." Dean breathed, cutting Sam off in what was supposed to be an angry tone, but ended up just sounding weak and pathetic. Sam rolled his eyes.

"So, you're passing up the chance to have plenty of hot nurses fighting over who's gonna give you a sponge bath?" Sam tried. Dean forced his eyes open, glaring at Sam.

"No hospitals!" he said, sneezing violently. Sam pursed his lips, gritting his teeth. Stubborn fool. Not gonna work Dean, I'll get you better even if I have to kill you to get it done!

"Come on." Sam said, helping Dean to his feet and into the bathtub. Dean yelped when his feet touched the cold water, and tried to get out of the shower, but Sam held him in place.

It was another thing Sam was worried about. He might have gained some more upper body strength in the past year, but Dean was, and has always been stronger. The fact that it didn't take much to restrain his brother as he fought to get out of the water hurt Sam as much as the freezing water hurt his brother.

"Stop it, Sam, let me out!" Dean cried, trying to shove Sam away, trying to get out of the icy water. "Sam, move it! I mean it, Sam, let me out!"

"Dean, just relax, alright? We need to get your temperature down or I'm gonna have to take you to a hospital." Sam said as he fought to keep Dean in the tub, trying to lower him further into the cold water. Okay, so even when he was weak and tired, Dean still gave him a run for his money.

"Stop it Sam! Let go!" Dean yelled gruffly, choking on his coughs, "You think I'm kidding with you? Let me out of here or I swear I'll wipe the floor with your ass and then run you over with the car!" Dean snapped, coughing, teeth clattering.

"Dean, please," Sam pleaded, but Dean fought so desperately to get out that Sam didn't have the heart to keep fighting him. Sighing, he relented, helping Dean out of the shower. Dean slumped down on the floor, shivering, coughing, glaring angrily at his brother. That's when Sam noticed the ugly shade of red on Dean's legs, just now realizing how much the freezing water had actually physically hurt his brother. He bit his lip guiltily, looking remorsefully at Dean, cursing under his breath. He should have known, his brother's fever was so high, of course the ice water hurt him! He should have used lukewarm water, Sam thought angrily as he helped his brother back to bed. Dean's legs were like rubber, and now that he was out of the offending water, he nearly collapsed, having spent whatever energy he had left to get out of the tub.

Sam went back to the bathroom, dropping a couple of towels in the tub, soaking them, and then brought those over to Dean, working his best to keep the fever down. He also brought over the glass of water, trying to coax Dean to drink. He made sure to keep his brother as cooled as possible, wiping his sweaty face and the back of his neck, replacing the cold towel over his brow every few minutes.

"Dean, drink this," Sam said, giving his brother some juice. He figured if Dean won't eat anything, the least he could do is make sure Dean drank something that gave him some strength. "Come on, Dean, drink some more, or I swear I'm taking you to a hospital, you hear me?" Sam threatened, knowing full and well that his brother would do almost anything to keep out of a hospital.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam slumped down on his own bed, spreading his arms to the sides. He was exhausted, having spent almost three hours trying to bring Dean's fever down. He had never been happier to see his brother having a fever of 103.3. Sam turned his head, looking at the sleeping form of his older brother. He gave a weak smile, and then closed his eyes. His stomach was growling, but he just didn't have the energy to get out and buy some food right now. And so he joined his older brother in sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was hot. Man, when did it get so hot in here? Wasn't it supposed to be winter? Dean could definitely remember rain, and freezing cold, but it was so damn hot. It felt like he was burning. He looked down at the room beneath him. Something's not right… His father smiled at him, looking up at Dean, and there were tiny wrinkles by the sides of his brown eyes. That relaxed Dean a little; his father looking at him with those completely normal brown eyes, and not those awful yellow ones. This was Dad, not the Demon. But why was it so damn hot in here? And… why was dad looking up? It was almost as if Dean were...

"It should have been you." his father said in a gruff voice.

"Dad?" Dean asked. He wanted to wipe his sweaty brow, but for some reason, he couldn't move. He swallowed hard, panic building at the pit of his stomach. But he shouldn't panic, his dad was right there, right? Dad will never let anything happen to him...

"It should have been you all along." John accused, and the look in his eyes was disgusted, disappointed, sneering. Dean's heart began to race. "We could have survived losing you." John went on, "I would have still had Mary. Sam would have had a normal life. He would have been happy, he would've still had Jess." His father said, narrowing his eyes. "We probably would have had more children. I always wanted a big family, did you know that?" he accused, and Dean's throat constricted. He blinked the moisture out of his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. He tried to speak, but no voice came out of his mouth. This was his father, not the Demon. This is what his father thought, what his father felt, and deep down, Dean wasn't all that surprised to hear it.

"It should have been you who died that night! It should have always been you!" and Dean stared at his father in horror as the flames burst out, engulfing him. His whole body screamed in agony, but he still couldn't move, couldn't free himself or escape the inferno surrounding him. He cried out to his father, but his voice died and the blaze only grew. Dean's eyes searched for his father's, begging, praying, wishing he'd see those yellow eyes, wishing it was the Demon and not his Dad. Brown eyes stared coolly at him as his father's lips quirked up in a slight grin.

The pain was unbearable. He couldn't breathe. And yet he screamed at the top of his lungs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam woke up with a start, looking around the room for any sign of danger, his heart racing. He jumped off the bed, still checking to make sure there was no threat. And then Dean screamed again. Oh, no, not again, Sam thought, rushing over to Dean.

"Dean, Dean wake up, it's just…" but Sam never finished his sentence. He sucked in his breath, and then cursed out loud. Dean was sweaty, his cheeks red with fever. His fever has gone up again. Sighing, Sam walked back to the bathroom, making sure to fill the tub with lukewarm water this time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam woke up, exhausted. Whoever was on the other side of the door, Sam wished them to get run over by a truck followed by a personal encounter with Snuggles. Groaning, Sam pushed himself up from his seat. He was stiff all over. Putting his hand on his neck, he stretched, grimacing and glancing at his sleeping brother. The fever was still high. If it stays this way, like it or not, Dean was going to the hospital. Sam narrowed his eyes in irritation, growling as another knock was heard.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" he said irritably, opening the door. "Lynn?"

"Hi sweetie." Lynn smiled, standing on her fingertips to kiss him. Sam raised a brow.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Well, you haven't called me in a couple of days, and last time we talked you said your brother got sick, so I figured…" she shrugged, "you know, I'd come to you. That way you can still take care of your brother and I can take care of you." she smiled at him, kissing him again.

"Lynn…" Sam wasn't sure what to say. He was touched that she came over, he liked it that she thought of him and missed him, but he wasn't sure about her being there.

"I brought Chinese. Brought some chicken noodle soup for your brother, too." Lynn said, pushing by him and entering the motel room. She spread the takeout bags on the small table and wrinkled her nose. "Man, it really smells in here. Open a window, would you?"

Sam was speechless for a moment, before he shook his head, closing the door. "No, it's cold outside, I don't want him…"

"It's not really that cold anymore, and the fresh air will do him good." Lynn said, looking around the room. When Sam didn't open the window, she did it herself. "Well, come on, you must be hungry." She said, opening the small takeout boxes. The smell made Sam's mouth water and his stomach grumble. Lynn smiled, and Sam smiled back at her, a little self-conscious. "Have you even slept? You look like hell." Lynn observed.

"Oh, thanks." Sam smirked.

"Good thing I'm here to take care of you, right?" she asked, winking at him, and pushed him down to sit by the table as she started massaging his shoulders. Sam groaned in content, letting his head roll back. "Should we wake him?" at that, Sam raised a brow. "Your brother. Dan, was it?"

"Dean." Sam corrected. "Why would we want to do that?" he asked.

"Well, I did get him the soup. When was the last time he ate anything?" Lynn rummaged around the containers, fishing out the chicken soup. Sam thought about it for a moment, but really couldn't remember the last time Dean ate without it ending up on the bathroom floor.

"I guess you have a point." He said, walking over to Dean's bed. Dean didn't really feel like waking up, and finally Lynn suggested that they'd eat first, saying they could always reheat the soup.

Sam nearly fell asleep in his seat twice, before Lynn grabbed him and told him that there's no way she was going to carry him to bed. He gave her a small, tired smile as she helped him undress and get in bed. He had tried to argue with her, but she promised she'd stay with them until Sam woke up again, and that she'd take care of Dean.

Sam stretched his aching limbs on his bed. He wasn't going to sleep. He just wanted to rest his eyes, just for a couple of seconds. Hmm… was the bed always this soft?

Lynn watched Sam sleep with a slight smile as she kept on eating. With both Winchesters out cold, no one would stand in her way. She made sure the door was locked and that Sam was indeed asleep before she turned to their duffels and started going through their things. She didn't know much about guns, but her Father wanted the Colt, and Dean had it. It must be here, and she was going to find it.

There were more than a couple of guns in both the boys' packs. Lynn just grabbed the one that looked the oldest. She gave a sidelong glance at the two sleeping men and quickly snuck out of the room, hiding the gun in her car.

She made sure to close the door really softly so it wouldn't wake the boys when she got up, not that there was much chance in that. Sam was out like a light, and Dean's fever was high, she could always say he was imagining things.

The weather was getting warmer now. Her Father really should have warned her about all those freak storms, it would have been a good excuse to go shopping.

Lynn sat down on Dean's bed, watching Sam sleep. He was cute. Okay, he was really cute. He was more than a decent kisser, and that drunken thing still kept her amused. The thing is, he wasn't her usual type. Too clean-cut, too polite, too… good. No, Lynn liked her guys a little darker. Her lips curled up as her eyes switched over to Dean. Now, he was more like it. He wasn't cute – he was damn hot. She couldn't resist, reaching her hand to remove a stray strand of damp hair from his sweaty brow. Her brow furrowed. He was hot alright, he was burning up. Why Sam hasn't taken him to a hospital, she had no idea.

Lynn got up from the bed, walking over to the bathroom. She found the moist towels Sam had used, wetting them in cold water, and walked back over to Dean, putting one wet towel on his forehead and another behind his neck. She even called the managers for some more towels.

She kept trying to get Dean's fever to break, wondering if this was her Father's work. It was a shame, really. Her Father's plan, what he wanted… Did it have to be those guys? There were plenty of ugly people out there. Oh well, she was here now. A perfect opportunity. Even if the gun she found wasn't the one her Father needed, there was still John. Others could take care of it. She could end it here.

Stroking Dean's cheek, she shook her head at the waste and glanced at the sleeping Sam before reaching for her purse and taking her cell phone out. Dean stirred and Lynn quickly got away from him. Her Father had warned her about him. Not that she was afraid of him. In his weakened state, she doubted he could hurt a fly.

Lynn waited until her call was answered. She told her Father she was with the brothers, that she could finish it, do what he wanted. She was more than surprised by his answer. She was ordered to stay away. Biting her lip, she looked at Sam. Was he really all that powerful? Could he really do what her Father wanted? And why couldn't she just get it over with?

"I don't understand, I'm right here. I can do it! I can do this for you, Father. Why do you need him?" she asked bitterly, "I can get it done, I can take him right now, and his brother won't even notice it until it's too…" she bit her lip at her Father's angry retort, nodding even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Yes." She said in a small voice, "Yes, Father. As you wish." Lynn said submissively, hanging up the phone. Might as well get Dean's fever down then.

TBC

A/N: So, season 2 is slowly approaching, and this story is still a long way from ending, so I'm going to do my best to update twice a week from now on in hopes that I'll have it done before the season 2 plot bunnies decide to attack. Please Review, people. Seriously, I need some fuel here, especially if there's gonna be another update this week...