Consciousness was murky at best. Sam was having difficulty thinking about much, just circling between 'third trial' and 'Dean.'
"Dean... y'don'... get it..." Sam murmured, staring at the floor from the side of the bed, vaguely admiring the shine of the chrome bowl that Dean had cleaned and set on the floor at some point.
"S'okay... S'gonna be okay..." Sam reassured, his thoughts whirring faster and faster. Dean. The third trial. My job. I can do it. This is nothing. Get up. Need to stop fucking around. Kevin. Kevin. Find Kevin. Dean, it's okay. Go find Kevin. The third trial. I can do it. My job...
Around and around until Sam landed on a fully thought-out sentence. I don't care if I die. I need to find Kevin before I die so I can finish the third trial.
Sam had been writhing around with shallow breath but now he had a mission. He needed to move, roll over, do something. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling water press out from under his lids. Disoriented, he rolled forward and accidentally slammed his head against the wooden ledge of Dean's nightstand.
Sam didn't feel himself falling. Just felt the jolt of landing to the floor. A muffled grunt and he weakly pulled the bowl out from under him then sagged down to feel the cold surface. Heart racing and panting now, he lay there until his already overheated body triggered a short-lived frustration with the blankets still tangled around his legs.
He managed to kick them off, wheezing with exertion by the end of it. He was still hot and overheated so without any further consideration he pulled off his track pants too. A second later he pulled off his shirt - a more complicated process - and bunched it up as a makeshift pillow before he fell back to the floor. It was finally cool, the surface of the wood smooth and clean.
Unfortunately it was short-lived. The sweat covering Sam's body began to evaporate and Sam vaguely felt the first chill run down his spine. And then another.
Sam squeezed his eyes shut and brought his knees up to his chest to warm up, having forgotten his clothes and the blankets near the foot of the bed.
More shivers ran through him as Sam stared out at nothing, the amber light of the room dimly reflecting off surfaces that felt comfortable and familiar. Nevertheless, it was starting to feel like he was in a freezer.
Sam's whole body shuddered and it jerked him awake and back to a higher level of consciousness.
"Shit," Sam whimpered, realizing his fever had taken over at some point. He still wasn't all there but he was well enough to know lying on the floor in nothing but boxers freezing cold was not good.
Sam reached up to touch the bed and orient himself. He realized he only had to roll over and push himself back up onto it.
"Okay, Sam," he coached himself. He flopped over onto his back and lifted his head up. Immediately his surroundings lurched and spun. His hair clung wet and cold around his neck. He had to squint to make sense of what he was seeing. The bed wavered above him as he reached out and pressed a sweaty palm against the side of the mattress. He felt a vague sense of urgency pull at him quickly followed by the full context and reasoning: he needed to get back up on the bed before his brother finds him like this. Sam didn't want Dean worrying.
Sam gripped the edge of the bed tightly and used all his strength to pull his torso up and level with the mattress. He groaned as the world tipped again and he swore. He couldn't tell whether his body was swaying or if it was the fever mangling his sense of balance.
Halfway there and suddenly the room was too bright, the lamps illuminating too many things in Dean's room, all of them competing for his attention. Sam hummed and closed his eyes before folding onto the mattress to take a breather. He knew he had to get all the way into bed eventually but he couldn't concentrate. He needed time to balance himself before he could get his legs up.
No longer cold, his entire body still shook under the stress. Acute nausea hit him fast and Sam swallowed thickly, squeezed his eyes tighter and pulled his arms to cover his head. He breathed into the mattress. It still felt like he was at sea in a storm, the floor waving and lifting up and down. Sam felt his awareness drifting away. Felt himself leaning into the fever, forgetting why he was perched against the side of the bed...
"Sam-? Sam?" A voice pierced through the drumming in Sam's ears. Dean. "What're you doing on the floor?" Dean's voice came closer, overwhelming him. He started panting between swallows, doing his best to handle Dean's presence.
He flinched at Dean's hand on his shoulder. "Don' ... Don' move me," Sam requested, voice hoarse. He kept swallowing and breathing into the mattress, holding back on throwing up. Dean's hand left his shoulder. "De-?" He murmured quietly. Without an immediate answer, Sam's body shuddered and he called out for his brother again.
"Here. I'm here, Sammy," Dean reassured. Sam loosened with relief, pressed his cheek to the mattress when he felt warm, soft cotton wrap around him. Sam automatically starting shaking under them, starting to generate heat again. "Than' you," Sam sighed. Dean's hands rubbed his back and shoulders and it felt so good Sam could barely hold back tears of gratitude.
"Tell me what's going on with you," Dean asked gently.
"Nothing," Sam sniffed. "Um, I'm cold," Sam stammered. Dean's hands and the blankets were helping though. His nausea was dying down too. Still, Sam gave an involuntary shiver that Dean must've felt because he stopped moving and knelt on the floor behind him.
"Dean?" Sam quavered, lifting up to see when his brother's arms wrapped around him. "What-"
Dean cleared his throat. "Y'know," he started, tone casual but Sam could tell he was worried. Dean tugged at him so they could go backwards. At first Sam resisted but Dean snaked one arm across his stomach, the other crossing his chest. It was rare to be in such close physical contact, much less in such a secure embrace that it qualified as a hug.
Sam surprised even himself by melting into it, letting Dean slide them back onto the floor. Dean put his back against the nightstand for support while Sam just sank against Dean's chest, feeling his brother's heart beat. "Getting on the floor and pulling your clothes off isn't what you're supposed to do when you're cold."
"I can… I can get to the bed," Sam rasped as he angled in Dean's lap for it.
"I know, I'll get you there," Dean assured, pulling the spare blankets further over Sam and tightening them. "Get warm first. You're still shaking."
"Am I?" Sam asked, bewildered, lifting his head over to see Dean but failing. It fell on Dean's shoulder instead.
"Yeah, Sammy," Dean whispered, leaning his head against Sam's.
They rested. Dean tended every shiver that ran through Sam like whac-a-mole only with more blankets or a better hold on him. Sam curled in, feeling distinctly fragile but in stark contrast to nearly every other point in his life he ever felt vulnerable he knew he was safe in the bunker. He knew he was protected by Dean.
"I think your fever's breaking. Here," Dean spoke up. Sam realized his eyes were closed and reluctantly opened them to see a thermometer coming at him. "Don't bite it, dude," Dean said as Sam took it under his tongue again and it clacked against his teeth for a second.
"Wouldn've bi' i'," Sam retorted groggily. They were quiet for the minute they waited for the thermometer.
"You almost ready to get back in bed, you think?" Dean asked casually. Sam nodded and let Dean pull the thermometer out of Sam's mouth. Sam licked his lips as Dean squinted to figure out the number.
"101.9," Dean murmured.
"S'better," Sam whispered, "right?"
"Yeah," Dean trailed off, distracted, but he rubbed Sam's chest encouragingly. "All right let's get you up." Dean announced.
Sam nodded and sat up straight so Dean could get out from behind him. The blankets fell and pooled around his waist. Before Sam could even try his weak legs Dean gripped Sam under his arms and lifting him. Surprised, Sam let out a manly yelp as Dean unceremoniously plopped his brother onto the mattress. Sam landed in a heap and let his brother snicker. The least he could do was let Dean laugh over his sorry ass.
Sam shifted around to get more comfortable but Dean warned him off so he could pull the blankets out from under him. Sam let Dean do his thing, moving when Dean wanted him to. He was starting to fade again.
"Dean - Kevin..." Sam garbled as he felt the sheet then comforter land on him. He rolled over onto his stomach.
"I know, Sam, but we can't do anything yet. Not until you're better," Dean replied, his tone grim.
"'M not gonna get... better..." Sam replied, his voice thick. He felt Dean's weight on the bed followed by a hand in his hair.
"You're gonna get better, Sammy," Dean said softly, carding his fingers through the strands. Sam's eyes closed and he reached out for Dean and managed to grip his knee.
"I gotchya," Dean whispered.
"I like your room," Sam volunteered randomly, his voice muffled by the pillow. "S'ry for taking... your bed..."
Dean looked at his exhausted brother and quirked an eyebrow.
"Dude, I put you here."
Sam sniffed.
"Oh yeah. Thanks."
Dean bit his lip, studying his brother.
"Hey Sam?"
"Mm."
"Why don't you have stuff in your room?"
"Wha' stuff?"
"I don't know, stuff."
Sam sighed heavily.
"-your stuff," he susurrated, practically asleep. Dean moved closer.
"What?"
"Always had your stuff," Sam clarified. He let out a heavy sigh, moved his hand off Dean's knee, and turned his head on the pillow.
Dean huffed and leaned back to think. It was kind of true - they'd always shared, but Dean had always been the outright owner of most of their things.
Dean nudged Sam over so he could rest on the bed next to him. He rubbed Sam's back until he was sure he was asleep.
One thing was for sure. Dean was going to get Sam set up with a memory foam mattress. And copies of the few family photos he had. And some of the books he remembered Sam loved to read growing up.
Maybe some art? Eh, Dean wouldn't even know where to begin on that. A mini-fridge could be great though.
W/N: This chapter was revised 6/14/2019. Thank you so much for reading! Please review/comment if you can spare the time! ~ Alex