"Dean, I'm fine!" Sam insisted for probably the three-hundredth time. "It's just allergies. It's Spring. It's bound to happen."

"You've never had allergies before!" Dean argued.

"You can develop allergies your whole life," Sam countered.

"Yeah well what if it's not allergies, Sam? Huh?"

"Will you just calm down," Sam pleaded, grabbing Dean by the biceps. "I'm okay. We're okay. We haven't left the bunker in months."

"Forgive me for freaking out," Dean said sarcastically, not moving from in front of his brother. "Lebanon is down to a few dozen citizens, man."

"Because they didn't stay indoors. They didn't practice social-distancing."

"Don't give me that crap," Dean said suddenly shrugging and walking a bit away, mostly so his fear wouldn't show through to his little brother. "You think no one got sick indoors?"

"Well yeah they did, Dean, but it's because people were going in and out. No one has gotten through our doors since we bunkered down."

"Apparently that doesn't matter anymore."

"Look. I'm not gonna sit around worrying about this all day," Sam said. "I'm not sick. I coughed one time."

"Twice!"

"Okay two times. Big deal. I'm constantly washing my hands and wiping everything down three times a day with disinfectant."

"Doorknobs too, right?"

"Of course."

"So, you're probably fine."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Sam said on a breath out and a slight laugh, stepping closer to Dean before reaching out and taking his brother's hand. "Besides, I'm pretty sure if I was sick, I would've definitely passed it on to you." Dean blushed.

That was something new for them; the handholding and the blushing. Since their isolation in the bunker all those months ago, some truths had revealed themselves. Boundaries became less and less apparent. Lines had been crossed and there were no signs of regret from either of them. So things had just kept going as if it had always been that way; as if was as old as time but still new and exciting every single day. It was more than enough to keep them from going crazy while everything else hit the fan.

They hadn't done everything. They weren't ready for that. It wasn't necessary. Just being able to hold each other, touch each other, kiss…it was something they'd never known they'd always wanted. They always knew they needed each other. They hadn't realized they'd also wanted.

"You hungry?" Dean asked, trying to change the subject and take the attention away from his flushed face. "I could make us some sandwiches."

"Grilled cheese with tomato?" Sam asked with a raised brow.

"If that's what you want."

"Extra tomato on mine."

"Wouldn't that make it a tomato sandwich with cheese?"

Sam had started a hydroponic garden in what used to be their interrogation/holding room. Dean was surprised about the success of it, but Sam said it was science and Dean realized that of course Sam would know how to do it. There were only so many vegetables that they could get frozen. With Sam's garden they had access to fresh tomatoes which gave then the ability to can sauce with the extras they wouldn't get through before going bad. They also had cucumbers, which Dean took much pleasure in making pickles from. Spinach and romaine were Sam's idea if anyone ever asked. Somehow the carrots wouldn't get much bigger than finger length, but the potatoes were bountiful and there was plenty they could do with them.

That's the way they kept themselves busy. Sam would tend to their fresh-food source and Dean would prepare meals. He was the better cook. Sam tried, but they both agreed that Dean should rule over kitchen privileges. Sam didn't enjoy cooking anyway.

Dean had made the comment of Sam doing the girly stuff, and Sam had responded by calling him Rachel Ray. Dean countered that he was at least Emeril. Sam relented, if for nothing else to end the discussion. Dean didn't call the hydroponic garden girly after that.

He especially didn't mention any girly tendencies once it was clear that when it came to their hot and heavy make-out sessions, Sam was very much in control. Not that Dean couldn't change that if he'd wanted to, but there was something about it that drove him mad in the best way possible. He spent a great deal of time trying not to think about it and failing miserably.

.~*~.

Whoever was left in the world should be grateful for Anonymous and anyone else who had done the world the service of taking responsibility for as many servers as possible, keeping the internet in business to enough of an extent that people could at least communicate with the outside world. Because of the limited space, however, most uploaded information could only be available until that space was needed for current updates. The Winchesters were able to build a few outdated but still useful servers in the bunker, thanks to some help from Charlie's communications from an underground bunker she had built.

The Men of Letters bunker was the only place in Lebanon with power. It was probably like that in most places, but there were some power plants still up and running to some extent across the country. There were people in there alive and well, at least so far.

The bunker was equipped with advanced water purification throughout all of the plumbing, which really was a life saver since they hadn't gotten nearly as much water as they did toilet paper. According to some forums Sam had come across online, a lot of cities had water treatment centers that had no one to maintain them. Creating your own filtration system seemed to be the only option for most survivors.

Sam regularly felt guilty for not having brought others into the bunker with them. In his defense, they hadn't realized just how awful it would get out there. The fact remained, however, that there were people right there in town that would greatly benefit from their assistance. As much as it killed them both a little inside, it was too risky to bring anyone in at this point.

Dean was especially paranoid about it. Not so much for himself as it was for his brother's safety. No big surprise there. Not that Sam couldn't take care of himself, mind you, but this wasn't something they could hunt and kill. This enemy was invisible and completely silent. It didn't growl when it was near. There was no smell. There were no hairs sticking up on the back of necks at its presence.

Speaking of monsters, there had been no sign of them for a few months now. Either they were just as affected by the epidemic as humans, or they'd left the country in search for healthier prey. Not that they'd find much. Either way, the Winchesters were definitely not saving people and most absolutely not hunting things. The family business was, at least for now, retired, and it was unclear whether any other hunters had survived.

Actually, that wasn't entirely true. Not that Charlie was a hunter exactly, but they hear from her at least once a week. They have no idea where she is, mind you, but she's somewhere safe enough. Jody and her girls had managed to bunker down as well. They'd previously prepared for the zombie apocalypse years prior. It easily converted.

Their basement had been extended as far as Jody had land. As paranoid about her girls' safety as she was, it wasn't exactly a surprise that they were just as well stocked up as the Winchesters were, times two. Except they remembered the water, and their toilet paper stock wasn't quite as plentiful. They had joked for awhile about doing a trade. It would have to be well into the future, of course. None of them wanted to risk the safety of the others.

That was it.

They hadn't been in contact with anyone else they knew. Not that there were many in the first place, and not that every survivor had access to power and internet, but Dean was pretty sure they were all gone. Not even a demon or an angel had been spotted in months. Last they saw Castiel was back in May, right after the second virus hit. Sam figured that with all the souls sweeping in, he was probably doing eternal overtime with what little angels were left to run Heaven. Likewise, Crowley must've been slammed with all the damned.

Dean had spent a while being angry at Cas. Angry with all of the angels, actually, not that that was any different than every other day. This time, however, he was pissed that they couldn't do anything to stop this epidemic; heal people. Cas had argued that there weren't enough of them to heal everyone, and if it had ever been their job to heal all the sick, no one would have cancer or any other fatal disease, for starters. That simply wasn't how it worked. Of course, Dean was still pissed, and Sam tried his best to remind Dean that no one can save everyone.

.~*~.

It was way too early in the morning when Dean's cellphone started making sounds. It took him a minute to come out of dreamland and realize that it was a video call coming in. Phone service wasn't a thing anymore after all. He reached over Sam's sleepy, protesting body for his phone which for whatever reason was on his side instead of Dean's.

He punched Sam's arm lightly when he saw who was calling. "It's Charlie. Wake up or hide or something!" They understandably still hadn't told anyone about their newly discovered relationship. "Hey, Charlie," Dean answered with a smile as he decidedly got out of bed and headed toward the kitchen. "Kinda early."

"Sorry," she replied, then coughed a bit. "Just wanted to check in before I lose wi-fi for an undetermined amount of future." It was the cough that stopped Dean in his tracks, and that's when he noticed the background on the screen.

"Did you leave the bunker?" he asked.

"Ah…yeah," she replied, looking around at what Dean had seen. She was in a parked car. "I started feeling a bit not great last night and woke up this morning barely able to breathe."

"Oh God," Dean said as he sunk to the floor against the wall of the hallway. "Charlie…"

"I'm okay right now," she was quick to put him at some ease. "My neighbor was asthmatic, and she was in the first wave." The first wave was what they were calling the original COVID victims. "I found a few canisters of albuterol in her cabinet."

"That'll only help for a little while…"

"Well I only need a few days' worth."

"Why?"

"There's a rumor that a team of scientists have survived inside of the CDC building and that they've come up with a COVID-19 vaccine," she told him. "I'm going to see if it's true."

"It's too dangerous," he argued. "You don't know what's out there. That's a long trip, Charlie. I doubt there are any gas stations open." His argument was weak, and he knew it.

"I know how to jump start a car, Dean. I'm pretty sure I have you to thank for that actually," she said with a smile. "Don't worry. What I've got is the one that only makes you want to die. If I've got the one that'll kill, me, it won't for at least a couple weeks, right?" She smiled.

"I don't like this," Dean said, voice shaking a bit. There were unshed tears in his eyes, and it made Charlie's sting.

"I know you don't."

"I wish you could come here."

"But I'd just get you both sick. Dean, this is the only option I've got."

"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it," he said adding a small smirk at the end.

She smiled back at him, wiping at a tear before it could fall.

"You check in as much as you can, you hear?"

"If I can find a hot-spot it won't be an issue. My portable is toast. I might get lucky and find a cell shop that hasn't been completely raided. Who knows? Maybe there'll be some Starbuck's on the way that still have operating wi-fi."

"Charlie, you be careful, okay? I'm serious."

"I'll be as careful as I can be," she said, then coughed again. "This could be my only hope. If I make it and it really is true, I'll bring some back to you. Then we can totally bunker together and finally finish Game of Thrones." That got a grin out of Dean. "I'm gonna get going before I'm too sick to drive. I'll call when I can."

"Be safe. We love you."

"I love you too." The call ended.

"Dean?" A sleepy Sam came up the hall having realized who had called. Finding Dean on the floor with a tear making its way down his face make Sam's heart sink in his chest. He immediately knelt down beside him and laid a hand on his arm. "Dean, what happened?"

Dean turned his head to look at him. "Charlie's sick," he told him in a whisper.

Sam furrowed his brows, his nostrils flaring for a moment as it sank in. He shook his head. "No."

"She's traveling to get help," Dean continued. "There might be a vaccine, she said."

"She's alone."

"She's safer that way."

Sam swallowed and turned to sit beside Dean. His eyes searched the air in front of him. "I hate this."

"Yeah."

"Staying in here feels like giving up.

"Leaving here is giving up," Dean said with a little more strength. "You know that."

"Is it though? If we're lucky and this thing runs its course before we run out of supplies, what the hell will even be left out there? What do we do?"

"Stop talking like that, Sam."

"Like what? Like I'm actually thinking about the reality of the situation?"

"Like you've already given up on the world. Like you've already lost all hope. You can't do that, Sammy," he said, meeting Sam's eyes with his own pleading ones. "You can't give up hope. You can't do that to me. You can't do that to Charlie…" More tears slipped down Dean's cheeks and Sam's eyes stung.

"I'm sorry. I just… I hate this so much. I hate that we can't do anything." Then Dean pulled him into a hug because he knew exactly how Sam felt. He felt that too. It did feel hopeless. It felt like they were cheating somehow. And Dean knew it might be selfish, but as long as he could keep Sam safe, it was the only thing that mattered. Of anyone they might lose out there, the only one that would truly break him if lost, it was Sam.

Dean felt it before he heard it. Sam's sudden coughing shook his body. He heard the slight wheezing in it. Fear burned inside of him even more than it had when Charlie had told him she was sick…

.~*~.

Tbc…