Disclaimer: Supernatural, the Winchesters, and any other characters and/or places which may appear do not belong to me.

Whumptober 2020, Day #22

Prompt(s): Poisoned/drugged

Author's Note: set in the later seasons, no particular time but at least post s9

Today's Whumpee: Dean Winchester

"Just let it out, brother," Sam said, rubbing Dean's shoulder. Dean had been kidnapped and drugged by a nasty witch a few days ago, but it seemed that something residual had been in Dean's system and was only affecting him now.

It didn't seem too serious. Just a run-of-the-mill illness he should be over soon. Dean hovered over the trashcan as he sat on his bed.

"I hate you having to take care of me," Dean mumbled.

Sam huffed. "Yeah, love you too."

Dean set the trashcan down on the floor and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "How long's it been since I was sick?" he asked.

Sam pushed Dean back against his pillows as he shrugged. "I'm not sure," he said. "A couple years at least. Despite all the stuff we do, neither of us seem to get sick real often. After all we've been through, I expect our immune systems are pretty tough."

Dean closed his eyes and leaned back, covering his face with his hands. It was a minute movement, but Sam knew it was because Dean didn't like this. Not being sick exactly, but more so the fact that Sam was taking care of him. Dean always held up the strong front. Hardly ever admitted pain, although Sam could read him well enough that there was not even a point to Dean hiding it. Sam knew almost instantly when Dean was injured or feeling sick. Dean could read Sam the same way, he knew. He wondered if all brothers could do that?

Or if it was just him and Dean.

At any rate, Sam wished he wouldn't shy away when it was Sam's turn to take care of him, but that was just in Dean's nature. At least he let him take care of him. If anyone other than Sam even tried to take care of Dean when he was sick, he'd clam up. Put a shell around himself that nobody except Sam could penetrate.

Sam felt bad for his brother, of course, but… well… he was lying to himself if he said that it didn't feel rather nice to take care of his brother after so many years of Dean taking care of him.

Sam refocused on the matter at hand. Dean had slid down in a slumber so that he was somewhat laying but his neck was bent awkwardly. Sam gently eased himself off the bed and then guided his brother into a more comfortable position.

"I'll come check on you in a bit," Sam said. He gave Dean's shoulder a gently squeeze before heading towards the door.

As he reached the door, his thought-to-be sleeping brother mumbled, "S'mmy?"

"Yeah?" Sam replied softly.

A sleepy pause. Sam wondered for a second if Dean had fallen back to sleep until…

"Thanks, bitch."

Sam's lips quirked. "Sure thing, jerk."