Sam wasn't sure where Dean had gotten the wet washcloth, but it was nice and warm as Dean cleaned off his belly with it. He turned onto his side and pulled Dean close. "That was amazing," he told him, his speech a little slurred from his blissed-out state.

"I'm a pretty amazing guy. What can I say?" Dean replied with his face tucked into Sam's chest. Sam choked a laugh and slapped Dean on the ass. "Hey! Watch the merchandise!" Sam's laugh grew, and then suddenly it wasn't a laugh anymore. He was coughing. At first, Dean didn't think anything of it, but his brain snapped into gear after a moment and he was pushing himself up to look at Sam's face with concern.

He had expected Sam to wave him off like it was nothing to worry about, but he was soon helping him to sit up when it seemed Sam was struggling to do so himself. He started smacking Sam's back in effort to assist, though it didn't seem to do much. "Alright, Sammy, why don't you sit back against the headboard," he suggested, helping Sam to scoot back and fitting two pillows behind him for comfort. Sam's coughing started to subside.

"I'm okay," Sam told him.

"Yeah you are," Dean replied. "Because I've got all kinds of stuff to help you through this. I'm gonna go grab some of it. I'll be right back. You okay for a minute?"

"Yeah, Dean, I told you I'm okay." He looked at Sam for another moment, then gave a curt nod before heading out of the room.

Sam closed his eyes for a moment, disappointed that their moment had been ruined by this stupid virus. A shiver ran through him when he realized he was cold now that Dean wasn't curled up beside him. He reached down beside the bed and grabbed Dean's tee-shirt which happened to be closer and put it on before decidedly also grabbing the blanket that was a pile at the end of the mattress. He wasn't sure if he felt weak and uncoordinated because of the pure bliss Dean had given him moments earlier, or because of the coughing spell. Maybe if he convinced himself of the former, it wouldn't seem quite as bad.

When Dean came back into the room with a box of items he'd previously retrieved from the hospital, Sam recognized the look of forced stoicism on his face. "You cold?" Dean hadn't really needed him to answer, seeing as Sam had bundled the blanket over himself. He set the box down on the dresser and pulled out a thermometer.

"Think I was just missing you warming me up," Sam replied with a smile.

"Yeah?" Dean said with a smirk. "Well just in case…" He held the thermometer pointed at Sam's mouth expectantly. Sam took it and put it under his tongue to humor his brother. Dean looked satisfied before turning back to the box he'd brought in. "I brought up a few things of this inhaler stuff," he explained. "It's supposed to work better with this spacer, so I grabbed a few just in case we lose one."

"D'n, I-"

"Keep your mouth closed," Dean said, turning his head to make sure Sam had complied. Sam rolled his eyes. "You're a grown-ass man. You know how it works." Sam glared. Dean turned back to the box. "Got a bunch of Tylenol, not that we needed more, but better safe than sorry, right? Don't answer that." He brought the previously mentioned items to the table beside the bed, sticking the extra stuff in the drawer and the stuff he'd need to use now on top. Then he walked back to the box. "Brought up one of those oxygen machines. Man, I was so lucky to have come across these… Not that you'll need it any time soon, or maybe even at all," he said as he looked back at Sam with raised brows. "Got you some bottled water here, too. The forums say room temperature is best because the cold stuff could instigate a coughing spell." He grabbed the thermometer from Sam's mouth and looked at it under the light.

"Forums?" Sam questioned with a raised, amused brow.

"You think I haven't thought this all through?" Dean asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I said I'd take care of you. And I wasn't just talking about amazing blowjobs. I mean the whole nine yards. We are getting you better before you get bad, and you will sit there and let me do what needs to be done. No arguments. No telling me you're fine. You'll take the medicine and you'll eat when I say you need to eat. You'll rest when I say you need to rest. Got it?"

Sam looked at him for a long moment, watching as Dean set everything up on the dresser and side table in no particular order that Sam could tell. "There'll…still be blowjobs though, right?" Sam asked. Dean paused in what he was doing and looked amusedly at his little brother.

"Be a good boy and I guess we'll find out."

.~*~.

Within two days Dean had thrown out the idea of getting Sam better before he got worse, because they were way past that point now. Sam's entire body ached like there was poison running through his veins. Dean tried to keep up with it; ice packs, heating pad, anything he could think of. But with the fever coming and going it wasn't so easy. Sam would seem fine for part of the day, then be absolutely miserable another part of it.

Of course, Sam was always miserable when he was sick. They were usually pretty lucky in that department. They'd built up an immunity to so many cold and flu viruses growing up, they just didn't seem susceptible to them anymore. But when they did hit, Sam acted like he always had when he was a kid. It was annoying, but also decidedly endearing, and Dean could handle taking care of colds and flus.

If it was more serious than that, sometimes Sam was unreadable. Like he'd hide away inside somewhat, like when dad would be back from a hunt and telling him to man up about it. Make him go train with Dean because sweating-it-out was a thing. Dean hated when he'd done that, but dad never came to watch, so at least he could be easy on his brother.

Now that they were closer in a whole different way, Sam was less resistant to Dean's help. Needing him didn't exactly seem like weakness anymore. For Dean it meant that he could be near him without feeling like a mothering hen so much. He could press his hand to Sam's forehead without getting smacked away and told to screw off. He could rub Sam's sore muscles without it being awkward. He could take care of him without also telling him to walk it off like it was the manly thing to do.

Sam was sitting cross-legged on the bed, Dean behind him trying to rub some of the ache out of Sam's back. Sam felt useless. He didn't really care about that fact right now, but he wasn't going to waste energy fussing about it. Dean seemed to know everything he needed when he needed it. He hadn't been given the opportunity to actually voice his misery.

Sam's skin felt hot under Dean's hands. It usually did. Sam was like a furnace naturally, but this was hot even for Sam. He pulled his hands out from under Sam's shirt and pulled it back down, putting his arms around Sam's middle instead and pulling him to lay back against him when Sam shivered. "Come 'ere, baby boy," he said lightly as Sam settled against him, his arms coming up to cover Dean's where they held his belly. Sam closed his eyes with a long sigh. "I know you feel like shit. I'd love to just give you some morphine, but you know it'll mess with your breathing and probably make the fever worse. I can get you another couple of Tylenol. You want some toast?" he asked, knowing that Sam's stomach had been queasy for the last 24 hours or so.

Sam shook his head and twisted a bit onto his side to burrow into his brother more. "Not hungry. Don't want you to leave." Dean grinned as Sam held him tighter. Thankfully they'd gotten the coughing crap under control. Some of the meds Dean had pilfered were helping with that tremendously. The most they'd seen in the last eight hours was a little bit of a dry cough here and there. Dean would make him take a puff or two of the albuterol each time, let him rinse his mouth and then get him something to eat. Unfortunately, Sam wasn't cooperating on the food front at this point.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, Sammy. Tylenol is right here next to the bed. Water too. Take some and I'll lay down with you for a bit, okay?"

Sam groaned but turned to comply. Dean took the opportunity to get more comfortable on the bed and draw the covers up over Sam as he laid back down and turned to snuggle up to his big brother. "Ugh," Sam grumbled. "Why does everything hurt so much, man? I feel like I got real bad food poisoning and spent the weekend on Bobby's old couch."

"That couch was terrible," Dean laughed at the memory. "Remember what he'd say when we complained?"

"Well, I didn't buy it for you idjits to sleep on!" Sam said with his best Bobby impersonation, which wasn't particularly great, but got the point across anyway. They both had smiles now that turned sad after a few moments.

"You think if he was still alive, he'd have made it through this?" Dean asked.

"Are you kidding me?" Sam said with an amused huff. "He had a panic room. Bobby was prepared for anything and there's no way a cold would've taken the stubborn bastard down."

Dean laughed. "You're right."

"We'd probably be there with him, actually. Well wait, maybe he'd have been here at this point. This whole place is a panic room."

"I think he'd have gotten a kick out of this place," Dean added. "Could've really added to his book hoard." Sam yawned. Dean moved his mop of hair out of his face and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Get some sleep."

"You don't have to stay," Sam said as he wrapped his arm around Dean and pulled him close.

"'course not," Dean said with a smirk.

.~*~.

"I wanna get out of this room for a bit," Sam argued. Dean had been adamant about Sam getting rest and Dean just bringing everything to him that he needed or wanted, but Sam was getting restless and he'd been biting his tongue for the last few days. "I can't just stay in bed all day every day, Dean. I'm gonna forget how to walk."

"You walk to the bathroom," Dean replied.

"Dean…"

"Fine. You wanna go for a walk, fine, but I'm with you the whole way."

"I'm not an invalid."

"That's my final offer. Take it or leave it."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Okay." Sam stood up from where he'd been sitting on the side of the bed and headed toward the door. Dean quickly grabbed the inhaler and shoved it into his pocket before joining his brother in the hall. He grabbed onto Sam's hand.

"Dude, you do not need to hold my hand. I can walk."

"I'm not allowed to hold your hand anymore?" Dean asked with wide eyes, trying to look as offended as possible. Sam grinned and shook his head as they continued the walk.

"Let's go to the kitchen," Sam suggested.

"Yeah? You hungry?"

"Maybe a little. I really want a cup of coffee actually."

"You're not supposed to have coffee when you're sick. Caffeine dehydrates or something."

"I haven't had coffee in three days," Sam argued. "I'm having withdrawal symptoms. One cup."

"Fine. One cup," Dean agreed. Sam grinned to himself. He wasn't sure if it was because he was sick or if it was because they were more than brothers now, but he had been winning arguments in very short spans of time lately and he was totally okay with that.

"Know what I kinda feel like?"

"What?"

"Popcorn."

"Seriously?" Dean asked with a raised brow as they entered the kitchen. "That's random. Not to mention completely nutritionally useless."

"Look who suddenly cares about nutrition!"

"Shuddup," Dean said as he led Sam to the table. "Sit. I'll get your coffee. You want popcorn with the coffee? 'cause that's just gross."

Sam laughed. "No. I mean…maybe later we can watch a movie on Netflix. Popcorn is to share."

"Sure. If you feel up to it."

"What's the difference between sitting in bed and sitting in bed watching a movie?"

"I guess not a whole lot."

.~*~.

Later that evening, they had started up the random B movie on Netflix, a big bowl of popcorn sat between them. Sam had a smirk on his face when did hit play. "This is gonna be so stupid," he said.

"That's why it'll be so great, Sammy!" Dean said with a smile before tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. Sam shook his head, but his own smile grew. He leaned a little into Dean and reached for the popcorn.

"Dude, it's a little dry," Sam said as he chewed.

"I put butter on it," Dean defended. "You want more? Mr. McHealthnut wants extra butter?" Sam glared at him before picking up a handful of the popcorn and throwing it at Dean's face. "Hey!" Dean feigned shock and Sam laughed as his brother went for a handful of it himself. Before he could retaliate, however, his phone rang on the nightstand.

These days, phone calls didn't come very often. They were never about a job anymore. They were usually about a death or just checking in. In either case, the moment was suddenly serious, and Dean reached over to see who was calling. "Holy crap. It's Charlie," he said, looking at Sam before answering the video call and holding it between them.

"Hey, Charlie!" Sam smiled when he saw her face on the screen, even though she was looking pretty sickly at the moment.

"You okay?" Dean asked when he saw the oxygen cannula under her nose. "Where are you?"

"I'm okay, guys," she replied a bit weakly. "I'm actually really lucky. Know how I was looking for the people with the supposed vaccine? Well…I didn't find them. They found me."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Eh…I kinda got sicker than I could handle. Pulled the car off the road and pretty much fell out of it just trying to get some air."

"I'm sorry didn't you say you were lucky?" Dean interrupted.

"Yes. Very lucky. I pulled over in front of the clinic without realizing it. They actually came out and helped me. Brought me inside. I've got pneumonia. My o2 was really low. Essentially my brain was not functioning at full capacity."

"But they're treating you?" Dean confirmed. "What's the prognosis?"

"I'll live," she told him with a weak smile. "I tested negative for COVID. They gave me the vaccine, which technically is still just a trial but honestly…there aren't enough people left to try it out on before handing it out. They're just giving it to everyone."

"That's…that's great!" Sam said. "How…I mean how do they intend to get it to everyone?"

"That's a good question, Sam. Nationwide distribution isn't exactly being run by anyone. Right now it's a come-and-get-it drug. But don't worry. As soon as I'm good enough to head outta here, I'm gonna bring as much as I can westward. I'll give it out to whoever I see. I'm stopping at your place, so you better have a bed ready for me."

"Damn straight we do," Dean replied. "You stay there and get better first. I don't want you driving back this way like that. Wish we could just come get you…"

"I know," she replied. "Don't worry. I might be able to weasel a ride out of one of the hot nurses," she said with the best grin she could muster.

"Atta girl," Dean grinned back. Sam let out a hearty laugh at the exchange, popcorn still stuck in his teeth. "Thanks for calling, Charlie," Dean told her. "Glad to know you got there in one piece."

"Check in with you later, bitches," she said, then the screen went blank. Dean smiled to himself and turned to put the phone back on the nightstand, amused that Sam seemed to still be laughing it up. But when he turned to face him, he realized that Sam wasn't laughing at all. He was in a weird coughing/choking fit that sounded super strange to Dean. Dean was frozen for maybe a few seconds in a state of confused shock, watching his brother's face turn red, then pale and maybe even a hint of blue as he continued to cough. Sam was franticly looking around, trying to find something he didn't know he needed just yet. Something to cough into… Something…

Dean slammed back into motion and was up off the bed in a heartbeat looking for the trashcan. If he knew anything about his little brother, it was the face he made before he threw up…

.~*~.

tbc