Big Brother takes his job seriously.

Sam felt so hot, if it wasn't for the fresh air blowing through the open car window, he thought he might just spontaneously combust. Even with his eyes shut, black dots danced in his vision, and he couldn't decide which was worse - the few potholes Dean hit or the subtle swerving he used to try to avoid hitting them. Either one made Sam's stomach flip and he didn't think his blazing esophagus could take any more vomiting without having a hole burned clear through it.

"You want me to open that for you?" He heard Dean ask and when he opened his eyes he saw that Dean was gesturing at the now-warm bottle of water he held.

"Don't think I'd keep it down."

Dean sighed.

"Okay. It's only nine more miles. Ten minutes, tops, we're there."

"Mmm hmmm…"

Sam closed his eyes again and ignored the black spots he still saw anyway and braced for a swerve or a pothole whenever Dean slowed down, until finally he felt the car turn into a parking lot and stop.

"All right, here we go. I'll get your door."

Sam was going to dispute him, 'I can open my own car door…' but by the time he swallowed his nausea down Dean had the door open and was reaching in to help him out.

"Dean, c'mon, I can - "

"Yeah, I know, you can talk and fall down both at the same time," Dean said. "I've seen that trick. C'mon."

He hooked his arm under Sam's and steadied him to his feet. The door to the clinic was maybe ten feet away, but the sidewalk dipped and rolled under Sam's bare feet and he gave up any thought of shaking Dean's hand off until they were through the door and in the office and Dean was handing him down into a chair in the reception area.

"Hi, we're here to see Dr. Rumi," Dean said to somebody then, the receptionist probably. Sam kept his eyes closed and the rest of the conversation muffled thickly around him. Name, insurance, paperwork, whatever; Sam didn't care. He just wanted the pain and fever and nausea to end. In a few minutes, Dean was back at his side, hooking his arm again.

"All right, Sammy. Up and at 'em. They have a special room for puking Sasquatches."

"Oh, c'mon," Sam whined. "I don't wanna move. Just wanna sit…"

"Last stop, I promise. You'll be able to lie down and everything. C'mon."

Sam reluctantly let Dean get him to his feet and guide him around the reception cubicle and down a hallway that was blindingly white to Sam's watering eyes.

"Here we go," a different voice said. A woman's voice. A nurse, maybe. A gentle push from Dean and Sam was turning into a room. An examination room, probably. "Can you sit on the table?"

"Yeah, he can. C'mon, Sam."

It was a big room and Sam let Dean help him across the cold linoleum floor until he could set his aching bones on the exam table.

"Can I lie down?"

"In a minute, sweetie." The nurse - or tech or whatever she was - said. Her voice was too loud in the room. "Let me get your blood pressure and temperature first."

Sam grumbled under his breath but waited semi-patiently as the nurse or tech or whatever she was pushed his sleeve up and took his blood pressure, and then stuck the plastic probe thing under his tongue for this temperature.

Dean stood close by and Sam thought about telling him he didn't have to hover, but as soon as the nurse or whatever announced his temperature and his blood pressure ~ something-something- something over something, Sam really wasn't paying attention ~ Dean was easing him down to stretch out on the exam table. After that, everything was a high humming blur and Sam was glad Dean was there because he did all the talking and explaining and whatever.

"…started yesterday…" he heard Dean say. "…hallucinations…this morning…clowns….. Drugs? Sammy?…you kidding me?…never…"

"Dean?"

A narrow thought from a dark recess somewhere in the back of Sam's brain knew that wasn't true; he had tried some drug, sometime before, a long time before. He had to tell Dean so that Dean could tell the nurse. Back when he was hallucinating Lucifer non-stop and was literally dying to sleep, Sam remembered taking a nameless drug offered by a nameless man in the back end of a nameless alley ~

"Dean - no - 'member?"

"Remember what?" Dean asked, appearing in Sam's line of sight and all the reasons Sam was even in this clinic right now came crashing back onto him; losing Dean to Purgatory and Benny, and losing his own heart and mind to grief. Sam didn't want to have to cross that minefield again.

"Sammy? Remember what?"

"Nothing," Sam muttered, shaking his head. "Never mind." He looked away from Dean and closed his eyes and tried to tune out the rest of the conversation, until a cold hand touched his own.

"Okay, sweetie. Just a pinch and we'll have you feeling better in no time."

"What?" Sam opened his eyes and tried to lift his head to see what was going on, and Dean set a heavy hand on his shoulder to keep him flat.

"It's an IV, Sam. It's OK. Lie back. It's OK."

Some broken sound came out of Sam and whether it was agreement or complaint or moan he couldn't be sure. Dean's hand stayed on his shoulder, massaging gently but encouragingly as the IV needle jabbed into the vein on his hand, and as it was taped in place and as the nurse or whatever she was said "Okay, the doctor will be with you in a little while, " and left them alone in the too-big, too-loud, too-chilly room .

"Don't have t'stay with me," Sam muttered, when Dean didn't move from his side.

"Right, because I want to sit out there with all those sick people," Dean answered him. "No thanks. Here…" Dean pulled a thermal blanket over Sam's feet and almost up to his shoulders, being careful with the IV in his hand. "You can't get rid of me that easy."

"Dean - c'mon - I'm - "

Dean moved so he was in Sam's direct line of sight.

"Don't say you're fine, because you're not. Maybe you didn't bring the clown midgets with you, but you're still burning up. And don't remind me how old you are as though that matters. You're sick, I'm staying, and we're both staying put."

Sam nodded, too worn out to fight Dean in a 'because I say so' mood. He nodded and closed his eyes and turned his face away from where Dean was standing.

He heard Dean say, in a softer tone, "Anyway, somebody's got to explain you to the doctor, and I'm not sure you even remember who you are right now."

"Yeah."

"So get some rest."

"Yeah. Okay."

And Sam drifted into a half sleep with Dean still standing next to him.

.

up next: Little Brothers are always little, no matter how big they are