Good Morning! Here's another prompt that I already had a 1/2 page written to and then this morning decided to completely scrap and write something different lol. I hope you'll enjoy...this is my first "continuation" from a previous prompt! Yay! It's probably a bit rough since I just wrote it and didn't take the time to polish like I try to do lol. Hopefully it's still a good read :)

No. 21: I DON'T FEEL SO WELL

prompt options: Chronic Pain, Hypothermia, Infection

setting: preseries. Dean 17, Sam 13. This is a continuation from Day Six prompt "No. 6: PLEASE...". Sam had been injured in a warehouse with a piece of rebar in his leg that Dean had been trying to secure. They were on their way to the Impala and the hospital where we last left them... this prompt picks things up about 3 days later...

"I wanna go home."

Sam's soft words drew Dean's attention back from the movie he'd been laughing about to reality.

Reality sucked.

"I know you do," Dean said, elbow on the edge of the bed as he patted his little brother's cold, clammy hand.

Never mind they didn't even have a home to go home to, Sam was too sick to go anywhere.

Reality really sucked.

"Hey, this is the best part." Dean pointed at the tv.

It was the best part of the movie, but it wasn't enough to distract either of them or make Sam feel any better. Sam glanced vaguely in the direction of the tv, but his eyes were so bleary, so glazed, so dulled with pain and fever, it was doubtful he was seeing much of anything. Skin flushed with burning fever, he looked back at Dean.

"Wanna go," he whispered, voice breaking.

The stabbing pain that went through Dean's heart couldn't possibly have hurt less than the stabbing length of rebar that had skewered Sam's left leg back in that warehouse.

"Sammy, we'll go soon, ok?" His own voice broke a little.

Reality sucked; they weren't going anywhere for a long time.

Sam didn't answer, his eyes drifting closed like they all too often did. One lone tear escaped.

Sighing, Dean wiped the tear away from the overheated cheek.

Three days already they'd been in the hospital. Three days and things had only gotten worse. Carrying his little brother out of that warehouse with a piece of steel sticking out of his leg had been agonizing. He'd driven like a madman to get to the hospital, Sam unconscious on the seat next to him. Once at the hospital, pure relief had flooded him. The hospital would take care of things and patch Sam back together and it would be another nightmare to wake up to in the future, but Sam would be fine.

Reality sucked because Sam wasn't fine.

"How's he doing?" a soft voice asked.

Dean glanced up at the evening nurse, Ashley. He took a shaky breath and said, "Not great."

Ashley nodded, eyes filled with sympathy. She stood at the opposite side of the bed, a quick, professional glance over all the monitors and her patient.

Renewed fear pulsed through Dean and he tightened a hand around Sam's wrist as he asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm just here for my routine check, Dean," she said with a small smile. "Everything looks stable."

"But he's not getting better."

"He's not getting better quickly, but he is getting better."

Heart finding renewed cause to beat, Dean asked, "He is?"

"Yes. The last lab tests were reassuring and his vital signs are stabilizing." She was entering numbers into the computer as she talked. "It is going to take time, though. The infection is severe and with the blood loss on top, he's very weak. But the antibiotics are starting to make a difference."

Dean looked from her down at his brother and didn't think anything was making a difference.

It was difficult to believe that three and a half days ago, Sam had been talking his ear off about the book he'd read, the history of the town they were driving through, the details of the hunt. Three and a half days ago, he'd had boundless energy, a huge smile when they stopped for ice cream, and a healthy tan.

Now, his skin was terrifyingly pale except for the bright burn of the fever and he barely moved. Yesterday, he'd been awake more at least. Had been restless and fighting the fever and pain. Today, he'd been listless and quiet. Confused. Fading in and out. He looked small and lost in the hospital bed.

"I know it's not easy to see him like this," Ashley said softly, continuing with her assessment. "It's just going to take time."

Dean nodded, his eyes burning as he stared at his brother's face.

When he looked up again, Ashley was gone, but his cup of water had been refilled and replaced on the bedside table along with a blueberry muffin. He had no appetite, but he'd been forcing himself to eat whatever the nurses brought him. They made him leave for one full cafeteria meal at least once a day, but otherwise, he hadn't left the room.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?" He leaned closer, heart jumping at the sound of his brother's voice.

"M'leg hurts."

"I know."

"Hot."

"Yeah, that's the fever," Dean said, brushing sweaty hair out of his brother's face.

Sam's eyes fluttered and he briefly got them open enough to meet Dean's gaze.

"Hey there, sleepy." Dean smiled, squeezing Sam's wrist.

"Wanna go home."

If any part of Dean's heart hadn't already been broken, it broke now as his little brother started crying. Sick and in pain, Sam had no defenses left. And neither did Dean.

"I know, Sammy," he whispered, putting down the side rail and carefully sitting on the bed.

It took a bit of gentle rearranging, but he finally settled on the bed, arms wrapping his brother into the only comfort and safety he could offer him at the moment.

Sam cried very briefly before he exhausted himself. His head rested against Dean's chest, his fingers grasping Dean's shirt. Dean kept whispering to him, anything he could think of to distract his brother, to calm him. Finally, it worked and he felt the last bit of tension ease out of his brother's worn out body as he fell asleep.

Reality sucked, but Sam was still breathing.

Dean smiled, closing his eyes and following his brother into sleep.

Hope you enjoyed!

tomorrow's theme/prompts: No. 22: DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Poisoned, Drugged, Withdrawal. let's just say, Dean is having a very bad day. lol ;)