Author's notes: Thanks 'demon dean' and 'banana4dean' for your reviews. And thanks 'angelscovegirl' for your review, and you're right. John wishes he could give them a normal life but he knows it's just not possible. haha, Poor Bobby, yeah! But I would say that in this chapter...it's a question of if John is about to get a taste of "torture" himself now lol!

Enjoy!Note: this is one of my fave chapters!

Chapter Fourteen: Spots! Everywhere!

It was about nine in the morning when Dean awoke. He yawned sleepishly and sat upright. After realizing the time, he became aware that Sam wasn't in the room, nor could he hear him playing.

'Sam?' Dean frowned. He got up and dressed before going downstairs in search of his little brother. Dean saw his father writing things down in that journal of his at the kitchen table, but no Sam.

'Dad? You seen Sam?' he asked, getting a bit nervous.

'Hm?' John looked up. 'Oh ah, he was here a minute ago…try the bathroom'

Dean nodded and rushed upstairs, pushing open the bathroom door. 'Sam!' he snapped. 'What are you doing?' he frowned.

Sam was sitting on the floor beside the tub and had his shirt lifted. Apparently he had been drawing on himself.

'I playing connect the dots!' Sam smiled.

'That is not called connect the dots, that is called: giving Dean more work' he frowned and grabbed a damp cloth in attempt to wash it off.

After many long minutes, Dean had been able to get most of the pen off. Good thing it had been a cheap pen, so it came off easily. But he also realized why Sam thought he had been playing connect the dots: there were many small but red spots on his tummy. After further examination, Dean found a few on his brother's legs and arms.

'Ah…wait here' he said and calmly walked out of the room. Once gone from Sam's sigh, he ran downstairs in panic.

'Dad! Dad!' he yelled, skidding to a halt. 'Something's wrong with Sammy!'

'What?' John got up. 'What happened?'

'Nothing, he's got spots!' Dean said.

They raced back upstairs but were sure to calmly walk into the bathroom.

'Hey daddy' Sam smiled.

'Sam!' Dean snapped. 'Put that lid back on' he frowned.

'But I all spots!' Sam snapped, pouting. 'I hate spots'

John observed Sam for a few seconds and then backed away slightly. 'Ah, I think Sam's got…chickenpox'

'I didn't put chicken in a box!" Sam said loudly. 'I swear!'

John tried not to laugh at that but noticed Dean's confused face as well. 'Ah, it just means Sam sick. He's got spots and…' he sighed; he was terrible at explaining this. He continued to back away though and cleared his throat. 'It's contagious, but don't worry Dean…you had it when you were younger. And once someone has had it…they never get it again. A once in a lifetime thing'

'I don't remember being a dot board' Dean frowned as he tried to recall being all dotty.

'You were…three' John said, a tint of sadness in his voice.

'When did you get them daddy?' Sam wondered.

John avoided that question and just sighed. 'I ah, maybe you should take care of him. I'm got to go…out' he nodded and left the room.

'Come on spotty Sammy' Dean said as he went over (also yanking the pen from Sam's hand). 'Let's…go outside or something?'

'I don't feel too good' Sam frowned.

'Ah okay, how about we write some more words then?'

'Dean!' Sam said. 'There a billion million words! How am I going to learn them all?'

'Practice?' Dean shrugged and helped his brother up.

The next day, John called the school and told them how Sam had the chickenpox and Dean was staying home to watch over him while he was at work.

'Okay, I've got a job up North so you're all set for a few days with food and all' John said goodbye to Dean. 'And here's a new book for Sam in case you have trouble' he handed the book to Dean.

'Aren't you going to say bye to Sam?' Dean wondered, noticing the weird way his father seemed to be keeping distance from Sam.

'Let him rest' was John's only reply before he shut the door. He locked it behind him and headed over to the car. When Dean had gotten the chickenpox, Mary had been the one to care for him since John hadn't had the chickenpox yet. And he was convinced that he was not, was NOT going to go through the chickenpox, ever. John Winchester could handle demons, spirits and ghouls any day of the week…but chickenpox was something he could do without!

The next two days for Sam was a bit rough. He was having a lot of difficulty keeping food down, he was having constant temperature changes and his face was slightly paler. But Dean took good care of him. He made sure Sam was never cold, that he had something to puke in whenever he needed. Dean even shared his bed with Sam to help him sleep.

'Dean?' Sam asked a few days later, in which he was starting to feel a bit better.

'Yeah?' his brother asked as he finished cooking spaghetti-O.

'How do you know how to make me feel better when I sick?' Sam wondered, sitting up on the couch and discarding his blanket a bit.

'Lots of sleep, relaxing baths, warm food and someone to keep you company…' Dean shrugged. 'It works' he smiled. He was going to put the bowel on the table but Sam was still a bit weak.

'How about you eat this over there? It's like breakfast in bed...kinda' he frowned, since it was technically lunch, and wasn't on a bed. He used the blankets to keep the bowel steady and stop it from being too hot on Sam's legs. 'Eat up, spotty Sammy'

'Okay' Sam nodded. 'Scabetti-ohs' he said when he saw what it was. He picked up his spoon carefully though.

Dean noticed how Sam had each spoonful with extreme precaution, in case his tummy rejected it.

'The bucket's right here' Dean reminded him, putting the bucket beside Sam.

An hour later, Dean was sitting at the kitchen table very bored. He knew Sam was missing school a bit but ensured his brother that it wouldn't be fun there when he was sick. Dean wasn't a big fan of school at all, but he had to admit that without it and while Sam slept all day long…it was really boring.

Dean knew his father was probably out on a hunt right now and as much as he cared and loved his brother, he wished he could go along with him.

'I know I can do it too' Dean whispered to himself, careful not to wake Sam. All his dad did when he wasn't hunting was cleaning weapons, reading books and papers…writing in his journal.

Dean sat upright, a grin spreading across his face. A sense of excitement washed through him like a wave. 'A journal! Maybe if I show dad I know stuff too, he'll let me hut with him' Dean jumped up from his chair and ran up to the room he was sharing with Sam. He grabbed a blank, unused book from his school bag and a pen. Dean went back to the kitchen table since he didn't want to leave Sam in case he ever needed him.

Dean did a nice front page first, which was labeled: "Dean's journal, back off Sammy!" He stared at the first blank page and bit his lip. He remembered what Uncle Bobby had told him…

'Rock salt can go in guns, it makes spirits go away for some time' he read softly as he wrote. 'It can't kill people, only birds' he added. Dean grinned happily and knew his dad was going to love this! He was going to see that Dean could be a hunter too. But Dean wasn't going to show his father yet, no…not until he had lots of things written down. He knew that he could ask some of his friends but his dad had said never to call Bobby, Jim or Caleb unless absolutely necessary. Dean knew each of their numbers though. John didn't believe in writing things down so he had Dean memorizes each of them off by heart.

The next night came around and Dean was a little worried. His father was due back today but had never showed up.

'Argh!' Sam yelped softly as the phone ringing woke him suddenly.

Dean stared at it. The phone rung once and then stopped, after another second, it rung again. Dean grabbed the receiver and held it to his ear.

'Hello?' he asked. 'Dad?'

'Yeah Dean, I'm going to be here for a few more days than expected' John's voice said. 'I want you to call someone to come down in the morning before school. Caleb, Jim or Bobby. Anyone, just make sure you call them once you get off the phone to me okay? I want you to go back to school, starting tomorrow while whoever you call takes care or Sam…that's an order'

'But-' Dean started and then shut up. 'Yes sir' he nodded.

'And how is Sammy?' John wondered quickly.

'He's good' Dean sighed, glancing to see Sam puking again. 'He's not keeping much down though'

'Okay, remember: call someone' John said and hung up.

Dean hung up the phone.

'How did you know that was daddy?' Sam wondered.

'It's what he always said: if it's him, he'll ring once first and then ring back' Dean shrugged.

'Daddy never told me that' Sam frowned. 'Always said: don't touch phone'

Dean nodded. He went over to Sam and explained that someone was going to come down and look after him. That he had to go back to school, since he wasn't sick. Sam was a bit upset, so Dean promised he would bring Sam's homework back for him to do.

'Okay, you promise?' Sam asked sadly.

'Yeah, I promise' Dean nodded. He bit his lip as he watched his brother's pale, sad face. 'Don't worry, you'll be okay soon bro' he rubbed Sam's head and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead.

Sam nodded again and gave Dean a hug. He then lay back down on the couch and drifted back to sleep.

Dean wrapped the blankets tighter around Sam and went back to the phone. Dean was not okay with leaving his brother in someone else's care while he went back to stupid school. But an order was an order.

Dean picked up the receiver and stared at it for a moment, deciding whom to call.

'Hello?' Caleb asked as he answered his phone on the second ring.

'Caleb? Um…Hi' Dean felt nervous for some reason. 'I ah…It's Dean Winchester'

'Hey Dean' Caleb smiled, but sounded a bit worried. 'Is everything okay?'

'My dad didn't tell you?' Dean asked. 'Oh, well Sam's sick with chickenpox and saids I gotta call someone. C-can you come look after Sammy while I go to school?'

'Yeah…yeah sure, Dean' Caleb told him. 'I'll be there by about seven tomorrow. You boys be okay until then?'

'Yup' Dean nodded. 'See ya then' he said and hung up. He looked over at Sam and sighed. He really hated to have to leave Sam while he went to school, the one place Sam was really missing.

Caleb parked his car and got out. As he walked up to the front door, he glanced at his watch and saw it was just past seven. He knocked and identified himself. He called again, but still no answer. But then, the door opened and Sam stood there.

'Caleb!' he grinned. 'I got chicken spots' he announced.

'Yeah, I can see that' Caleb smirked. Sam's face was less pale, but a few spots were evident. There were some on his hand and feet as well. Caleb couldn't see Sam's tummy, legs and arms since his pyjamas hid them, but he was sure he was very spotty all over.

'Where's Dean?' he wondered, but then noticed the exhausted boy asleep on the floor beside the couch.

'He slept there all night' Sam said, letting Caleb in. 'I said I could share but he said no'

'Okay' Caleb nodded and crouched down to Dean. 'Hey, time to wake up kiddo' he said.

'Caleb?' Dean mumbled and woke up, feeling a bit sore. 'Oh, hey' he yawned. 'Sammy? You okay?'

'Feeling bit better' Sam shrugged, but knew his tummy was still a bit sore and his spots needed more anti-itch cream.

'Dean, get ready for school…it'll take care of Sam' Caleb told him in a very firm tone, which he knew John used whenever he gave out orders.

'Yes sir' Dean nodded and went upstairs to get changed.

'I miss school Caleb' Sam said sadly. 'I wanna get better fast, so I can go back!'

'Yeah, I know Sam…but for now, you just rest okay?'

'Okay' Sam nodded. 'But my dots are itchy'

Caleb snorted slightly and then looked around for the anti-itch cream.

Dean came back a few minutes later, all ready to go. He walked up to Caleb and held out a blue bottle. 'Anti-itch cream' he said. 'Sammy needs it twice a day and then right before he goes to bed. Don't miss any spots cuz this blue muck helps him get better'

'Sam, you okay for travel? We've got to drop Dean off and I'm not leaving you here'

'I'm good' Sam nodded and accepted the jacket Dean held out for him.

'Bye Dean!' Sam called out sadly as he and Caleb said goodbye to Dean. 'Bring me back my homework like you promised'

'I will, get sleep Sammy' Dean nodded and gave his brother a quick hug before heading towards the school building. He glanced behind him and saw Caleb's car driving off. Dean bit his lip and started walking back to the main building.

'Hey, Dean' a voice reached his ears. He turned and saw the boy that had pulled him to the ground ages ago…Karl.

'What?' Dean frowned; he hated this kid.

'Where's your crybaby brother?' Karl asked.

'Sick' Dean glared. 'And he's not a crybaby' Dean defended his brother, even if he wasn't here.

'Yeah he is, he cried then I tripped him the other day' Karl shrugged but smirked a little.

'You tripped my brother?' Dean asked, getting really mad. 'You made him cry?' he then screamed. 'How dare you! How dare you make him cry!' Dean lunged at the boy, knocking him to the ground. Dean was hitting Karl angrily, ignoring the yells from Sam's teacher Miss Lark.

'Dean! Enough!' she said louder and pulled Dean off Karl.

'He made my brother cry' Dean said in a way that made that one reason seem to justify even murder. 'And let me go!' he snapped since Miss Lark had been holding him back.

She cautiously let him go and Dean just stomped off towards his classroom since the bell was ringing loudly.

'I hope Dean's okay' Sam sighed as he handed his glass back to Caleb. 'I miss him Caleb' he said sadly.

'I know, but it's only another hour' Caleb assured him.

'How long is an hour?' Sam asked curiously.

'Sixty minutes' Caleb replied smartly. He wasn't a teacher, nor was he Dean…so if Sam wanted to learn how to tell the time, he was not going to be the one to teach it. He glanced at Sam and saw the boy staring at the old clock sitting on the wall nearby.

'Tell ya what' Caleb said. 'See the big arrow? Well, when it points to the twelve, and the little one points to the three…it means the home bell at school has rung. We have to leave a little bit before that, so about…when the big arrow points to the ten'

'Oh, okay' Sam smiled and stared at it.

Caleb nodded and turned to go upstairs but heard Sam's voice calling him.

'Caleb?'

'Yes Sam?' he asked, coming back over to the couch where the boy sat.

'How long is sixty minutes?' Sam wondered.

Dean sat angrily at the seat while he waited for Caleb and Sam to finally come and pick him up. He had Sam's homework in his bag but received a long, boring lecture from Miss Lark about fighting when he'd gone to pick it up during lunchtime.

'Why didn't Sam tell me?' Dean muttered to himself. 'When that stupid peabrain Karl tripped him and made him cry?'

Dean wanted to get up Sam for not telling him, but he knew Sam was sick and besides, being mad got him nowhere…that was what he'd learnt today.

'Dean!' Sam called out as the car stopped a few meters away.

'Hey spotty Sammy' Dean smiled and got into the car. 'I got your homework' he said.

'Thanks, Yay!' Sam grinned.

'How are ya feeling bro?'

'I'm good, ate a whole piece of pie today Dean…A whole piece!' Sam was so proud. 'And my tummy didn't get mad, chucking it back out…it liked it and my pie stayed in tummy!'

'Great' Dean smiled and crossed "snacks" off his to-do list since he had now lost his appetite.

'Dean? You okay?' Caleb wondered since Dean had a bruise on his cheek.

'Super' Dean frowned sarcastically. 'I wanna go home, okay?'

John got back about three days later and as he did, he heard Sam and Dean's laughter coming from inside. He felt good knowing that Sam must be better now.

'Dad!' Dean grinned once he saw him come inside.

'Hey Dean' John smiled but without warning, little Sam ran to him and jumped into his arms. John caught him out of instinct and flinched when Sam hugged him tight, cheek-to-cheek.

Caleb smirked at the sight of John's panicked face. He was one of the only people that knew John that was aware he'd never had the chickenpox before.

'Hey' Caleb said, keeping a smug grin to himself. He was the one that had told Sam his dad would love a big hug once he got back.

'Hey, ah…thanks Caleb' John nodded, but was a bit surprised that Dean had chosen Caleb over Bobby and Pastor Jim. 'Boys, go clean up while I say goodbye to Caleb'

'Yes sir' Dean said. 'Come on Sammy' he held out his hand and Sam grabbed it.

'So ah...Sam's looking better' John said awkwardly.

'Yeah, he should be rid of his chickenpox in another day or so' Caleb said, trying so hard not to laugh.

'Hm, great' John nodded but the joy was far from his tone. 'But, thanks for doing this'

'Dad, need a clean towel from cupboard' Dean came back. 'Can't reach'

'Okay, hang on a sec' John nodded as he shook Caleb's hand.

'Bye Dean' Caleb then added to the boy. 'You take care of Sam…and yourself'

'Always' Dean nodded. 'I will' he smiled and then gave Caleb a hug. 'Bye'

John watched Dean in a bit of confusion; he hadn't seen the look on Dean's face very often. It was one of trust and understanding. The look he gave Sam everyday, but very few others have received it from him. He turned back to Caleb as he got into his car. John knew, there was something about Caleb that made him different to Dean…

'Dad, towels?' Dean frowned, reminding him.

'Right' John nodded, going back inside. He locked the door and checked that the salt line was still intact. 'Where's Sam?'

'In his room looking for something…why?' Dean frowned.

'Ah…no reason' John sighed, going to get the towels from the laundry room.

It was Saturday morning that Sam woke up at his usual seven am. He jumped out of bed and rushed to the mirror.

'Spots be gone!' he jumped in joy, lifting up his shirt. 'No more spotty Sammy!' he yelled and ran into Dean's room. 'Dean! Dean!' he yelled, jumping onto his brother's bed.

'What?' Dean grumbled and sat up yawning.

'Look! Spots gone! I'm not spotty Sammy anymore!' he grinned. 'Just Sammy'

'Cool, way to go' Dean gave a thumbs up and lay back down, asleep at once.

'Daddy will be happy' Sam decided and climbed off the bed. He ran down the hall and opened the door to his father's room. He crept up to the bed and climbed on carefully.

'Daddy?' he whispered and then sat still as he peaked over the blankets. He gasped and jumped off the bed.

'Deeeeeeaaaaannn!!'

Dean jerked upright as he heard his brother's squeal. 'Sam? What is it?' he asked, seeing his brother running in.

'Dean! Dean!' Sam jumped onto the bed. 'Daddy! Come quick!'

Dean groaned, but allowed himself to be pulled out of bed and into his father's room.

John sat up since he'd woken to all the noise. He yawned and felt a little queasy, but then was concerned as his boys came in and stared at him.

'What?' he asked.

Dean went over to bedside table and brought a mirror over.

John couldn't understand what the hell he needed a mirror for, but noticed Sam was no longer dot-coated.

'Your spots are gone' John smiled.

'Yeah daddy' Sam nodded. 'I think I know why' he said, trying not to laugh.

John then realized what the mirror was for and stared into it. Fair enough, his face was covered in at least twenty spots.

'No' he gasped. 'I…no!'

'Daddy a dot board' Sam sniggered.

'You've never had the chickenpox before now…have you dad?' Dean asked, it was all making sense now.

'Get me my gun' John groaned, only half joking.

'Daddy not need guns' Sam pouted, hands on his hips. He rushed to his father's side and smiled. 'Daddy needs lots of sleep, relaxing baths, warm food and someone to keep you company…' he said, exactly as Dean had told him.

'It works' Dean shrugged and cracked a grin.

John growled and lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. John sighed heavily as his sons got to work and muttered to himself 'What did I do to deserve this?'

Author's notes: Next time: John endures an eventful day with his boys...what would possibly go wrong? We all know the answer to that!

Please let me know what you think of this chapter etc!