Hey again.

This is a little story I started quite a while ago, and figured I might as well post it, seeing how it is Friday night and since i had coffee this afternoon i'll probably have a hard time falling asleep anyway.

The title comes from a song that has the same name by heather nova. I heard it during an episode of Dawson's Creek and fell in love with it. Seems like a fairly fitting title for my story.

So, just so everyone is clear: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. (Oh, but don't I wish!)

No warnings for this story, just descriptions of how miserable it is to be sick.

Hope you enjoy.

HEART AND SHOULDER

Stanford College

(Nine months before Dean shows up)

Normally, I am good at studying, but even this was proving to be very hard. I glared at the text book in front of me, almost squinting as i demanded my eyes to focus. The words swam and my head was pounding. Despite the thermostat cranked up to 75 degrees and me being bundled up in my sweater, I was still shivering. My throat hurt, like i had tried to swallow sandpaper. I was so tired that walking to the restroom or the kitchen seemed a near-impossible feat. Apparently, that's what happens when you study all hours of the night and drink too much coffee and basically making the dietary choices of a college student.

A soft knock at my door barely pulls my attention away from my attention.

"Come in." I answered, absently.

"Hey, Sam." Jessica's voice was like music to my ears. We had only been dating a little over a month, and yet, already something felt special.

She leaned carefully over the back of my chair and looked over my shoulder. "Still studying, Sam?" I flinched at the unconcealed worry in her tone. "Have you taken a break?"

"Can't Jess." I sighed and ran a hand over my head. "I have a huge test next week. I need to study."

"Not to the point that you burn yourself out." She scolded, but her fingers rubbing the back of my neck softened it. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Uh… I had a sandwich…" I didn't have a clue when. By the hollow feeling in my stomach, it had to have been at least six hours ago.

"Are you cold?" She'd noticed me shivering.

"Yeah, a little."

"Your skin feels warm." Her voice was fairly dripping with concern.

"Well, you are always hot," I quipped, looking over at her for a brief moment to eye her with appreciation with a playful look on my face. "Maybe it's contagious."

"Nice try." Her fingers found my forehead, and I didn't have to turn around to know she was going into no-nonsense mode. "Okay. This is what is going to happen:" Yep, no-nonsense with a side of motherly strictness, making me feel all of five years old. "You are going to take a shower. And no lightning-fast three-minute shower. Ten minutes minimum. I'm going to run and grab your favorite chicken soup from Marcy's Diner. When you get out of the shower, you are going to get into bed and eat and drink everything I give you and you will not so much as glance at a text book or anything school related until I say so. Understood?"

"That you are planning on mom-ming me? Yep. Understood; loud and clear."

"Good. Now, shower." She ordered.

"Yes, ma'am."

Despite the hot shower that turned my feet beet-red, I shivered almost the whole time and my whole body ached when I got out. I was actually relieved to put on thick sweat pants and to crawl under the covers on my bed.

I tried to relax, honest, I did. But that test was screaming at me. The professor of that class was no joke and I had to fight for every decent grade. I knew I could study for a year and never feel prepared for one of his tests and this was promising to be the mother of all tests. It would take Jess fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant and back, about ten-twenty minutes to get whatever she was going to get. It had been almost twenty minutes already counting the time getting up to my room and in and out of the car, that gave me about twenty minutes to study and Jess wouldn't know the difference. I got back up and sat in front of the textbook again.

The sound of the door opening woke me up. "Sam?" I jerked up from where my head rested on my hand. I had fallen asleep. "Sam! I told you to go to bed and no more studying."

"I… I need to study." My voice was cracking and it hurt to talk. I felt so groggy I could barely think straight. I may be stubborn, but even I was beginning to admit I was in no condition to do anything but sleep and obey my sweet, possibly overbearing girlfriend's every command.

"You need to eat, sleep and stay hydrated. Everything else can wait. Bed. Now."

It may have just been my blurry vision or my pounding, fuzzy head but the look on her face was damn scary. I got up and climbed into bed, feeling cowed, and too exhausted to be ashamed of it. Once I was sitting up in bed (I'm sure I looked like the most pathetic five-year-old) she put the bowl of soup into my lap. She sat down and watched as I hesitantly took a bite. Swallowing hurt like hell, but the warmth was also soothing. I still winced. "I'm not hungry. How about I eat this later? I'd much rather sleep anyway."

"Your throat hurts?" She was obviously not falling for any of my crap.

"No."

"Sam." She gave me that look. The scolding, disappointed look that made me spill my guts every time. I thought Dean was the only master of that particular expression. The reminder of my brother sent a shooting pain through my chest. God, I missed him.

"Okay, yeah, a little." I admitted, my throat betraying me with every word. "But mainly I'm just tired and my skin feels like it's on fire."

She reached into the paper bag and pulled out a small bottle. Tylenol PM. Fever reducer. It said in bold letters over the sticker. Looks like I wasn't getting out of sleeping. "That is what this is for. But you need to eat first. You've gone way too long without food and this might make you feel nauseous if you don't have anything in your stomach. So, eat." She ordered, but not without a healthy dose of compassion.

After I managed to swallow half the bowl, Jess took pity on me and handed me two pills and a bottle of my favorite flavor of Gatorade. A few minutes after choking them down, Jessica pulled out a thermometer from the same bag as the Tylenol. "Open up."

I did my best to argue with my eyes and pursed my lips slightly.

"Sam. It's a thermometer, not a snail. Open up and put it under your tongue, like a big boy."

I rolled my eyes at her patronizing voice, which only made my head hurt even more and made me dizzy, but I opened my mouth and let her stick the damn thermometer in my mouth "Like a big boy."

After a minute it beeped and Jessica took it from my mouth. "A hundred and two point three."

"So, I take it you're not going to let me get back to studying in an hour or two."

She made a scoffing sound. "You aren't studying until you've been fever-free for twenty-four hours and have gotten fully caught up on sleep."

"But my test…"

"You really think you, even you, can pass a test on no sleep, with a triple-digit temperature? Come on, you are supposed to be the genius here."

"I'm not a genius." I protested.

"Maybe, maybe not. You still are smart enough to know I'm right."

I scrunched down in the bed and pulled the blankets up to my shoulders. Jessica sat beside me and began running her fingers soothingly through my hair. I could feel myself drifting away under her touch.

"Sleep, Sam." Jess whispered. "Just go to sleep."

After a few minutes, I complied.

I started to wake up to a cold cloth being applied to my forehead. It was blissfully cold and soothing. "Dean?" I mumbled.

"No, Baby. Not Dean. Just me." Jess' gentle voice reached me, reminding me where I was. "How are you feeling?"

"Not good." I moaned, rolling onto my side. It felt like every cell in my body ached and was on fire. My stomach rolled. "Jess…" I started, panicked. I sat up and clamped a hand over my mouth. She quickly grabbed a trashcan and held it under my chin just in time for my stomach to expel everything I had eaten seemingly all week. It didn't stop until my stomach was completely empty.

"Here, drink this." Jessica held a glass to my lips. I sipped the ginger ale slowly.

After drinking a third of the glass, I eased myself back down, hoping to fall back to sleep. "I need to take your temperature again, Sam."

"Wanna sleep." I moaned.

"I know. You can in a few minutes. Open up now." I obeyed and the thermometer was almost immediately tucked under my tongue. "103.2. It's gone up."

I began to shiver. "I'm cold." I whined.

"And apparently it's still rising." She sighed. "Okay, Sam, we need to get your fever down. I'm going to run a lukewarm bath for you and get you some more Tylenol."

"Wanna sleep." I repeated.

"I know. But you'll feel so much better once we get your fever down." I heard the rattle of pills and reluctantly sat up, I felt woozy and very uncomfortable; sleep would be better if I was cooler. I took the tablets without complaint and Jess went to get my bath started.

Once the tub was filled, she helped me into the bathroom and undress. I didn't want to take off my underwear. We hadn't had sex or anything yet, it had felt too soon, and I didn't want her to see me in my birthday suit if I couldn't see her in hers. She seemed to understand though and didn't say anything. She helped me step into the tub.

"It's cold!" I complained, hissing through my teeth.

"No, it isn't, Sam." She corrected gently. "It only feels that way because your body temperature is so high."

I didn't want to, but I eased down into the water and rested my back against the tub's interior. Jessica sat down on the edge of the tub and used a washcloth to cool my shoulders, chest, neck and face.

Flashbacks rushed at me. Dean had done this at least a handful of times when I was sick. Suddenly, I was ten years old again. Dean carried me like a baby into the bathroom, undressed me and put me in the tub. Once the water had done its job, he lifted me out, swaddled me in a towel and dried and redressed me. He laid me on the couch, his lap became my pillow and we watched cartoons until I fell asleep.

My heart gave a painful throb. I wanted my brother. I'm eighteen years old, and wishing for my big brother who was basically my mom and dad my whole life. My real dad was too busy being obsessed with hunting down and killing all the big-baddies out there and training us to be like him. He wasn't around most of the time when Dean or I were sick. We took care of each other.

"Babe? What are you thinking about?" Jess asked.

"Hmm?" I murmured drowsily.

"You looked like something was troubling you."

"Just remembering."

"Remembering Dean?"

I nodded slightly. "Yeah. He did this for me a few times. Dad was gone a lot for work so Dean had to take care of me."

"Seems like he did a very good job."

I nodded. "He always seemed so much older. I used to always think of him almost like an adult. He's only four years older than me."

Jess nodded sympathetically. I didn't talk about my dad or Dean often, and when I did, I was pretty vague with my answers; not just to keep my family's occupation a secret, but also because it was painful for me to talk about. Thankfully, Jess seemed to understand and didn't press for information.

After about ten minutes, I started to feel a little better. My head felt clearer, my skin didn't feel so hot and the water wasn't so brutally cold. Finally, Jess let me out of the tub and helped me get into dry, clean clothes. She tucked me back into bed and I quickly fell into a deep, restful sleep.

Hope you enjoyed this. I will try to write another chapter or add more later. It is nearly two in the morning and my brain is fried. Let me know what you think. Have a great night... day... whatever it is for you. Ciao.