Thanks again to the brilliant and wonderful kissacazador for her help with this chapter. Give her a virtual fruit basket, guys!
Sam was helping his little sister get ready for bed. Dean had suddenly fallen ill during the course of the day, and now all of the big brother duties had been shoved onto Sam. Getting Chrissie to sleep was the final duty, then the thirteen year old could rest.
"I loved my toothbrush," pouted Chrissie, wriggling into her tiny blue night dress. "It had Elmo on it. I love Elmo. Now it's all yucky because dumb old Dean threw up on it."
Sam knew his brother had been holding back an illness, but decided to keep quiet. The thirteen year old gazed down at Chrissie fondly. Dean had obviously wanted to protect them both, and hiding this illness was a way to avoid any angst.
"Yeah, but we'll find a better one. I promise," Sam added. "Anyway, it's time for your bedtime story."
Chrissie snuggled into her warm bed. Outside the room, they could hear Bobby and Dean both curse.
"Dean says I get money when he says bad words. That means Goober and me can go shopping with it. He said very naughty words in the bathroom" explained the five year old to her big brother, who was sitting with a colorful book in his lap.
Chrissie had recently established a naughty word jar, which was an old tin that once housed a bottle of whiskey. The brothers and Bobby didn't want the five year old becoming potty mouthed.
"Well in that case, you're gonna be able to get a lot of stuff when we go to buy you a new toothbrush" said Sam.
He then smirked as he watched Chrissie's pensive expression and began to read her bedtime story. Sam finally was able to get his little sister to sleep after half an hour, knowing she was extremely tired.
When Chrissie entered the kitchen the next morning, she immediately noticed Dean was missing.
"Where's Dean?" she asked, gazing around the kitchen whilst holding Goober tightly under her arm.
The middle sibling drained his orange juice from it's glass before glancing down at his baby sister.
"Dean is still sick and that why he's still in bed" announced Sam, his tone gentle.
Chrissie saw a small smile on her big brother's face and felt slightly better. The tiny five year old then clambered on a seat at the kitchen table. Sam placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of her, as well as an empty one for the inanimate Goober, who was seated next to her.
"Bobby went out shopping for medicine for Dean this morning. He got you this," smiled Sam, as he slid a small brown bag towards her. "It was because you were such a good girl with helping him with that old rusty car yesterday."
Putting down her spoon, Chrissie opened it, and took out a plastic package. Although, she couldn't read exactly what it said, she knew it was a nurse's kit, complete with a tiny nurse apron, nurse hat, medical tools. Plus a mini lab coat for Goober.
Chrissie squeaked in excitement and clapped her hands. Her little legs swinging back and forth as she sat on the kitchen chair.
"I'm glad you're gonna help us today, but you gotta understand that Dean can't have any food or drink. Except from what Bobby or I give you, okay?" commented Sam, to which Chrissie nodded her head. "It'll have to be either toast, tea, water, Gatorade. Plus, he might wanna read a magazine."
At that moment, Bobby entered the kitchen. The eldest teenager had the aging Hunter up all night with his vomiting and stomach pains. Chrissie beamed up at him.
"Hey darlin', you might wanna draw your sick brother some get-well pictures too," mentioned Bobby. His attention then drifted to the younger teenager. "Sam, I'll be outside, so finish up with her and get everything settled upstairs, then start on that research I gave you."
Chrissie wriggled her tiny toes, her gaze wandering to the ceiling every now and again. Her hair was extra fluffy this morning, making her look even more cute. She then made a random yet adorable statement.
"Dean's greedy like Cookie Monster" commented Chrissie. "Dean likes pie, so he's the Pie Monster."
She then whispered what she just had just said, to Goober and letting out a cute giggle as she did so.
"I couldn't agree more," Sam chuckled. "I betcha he'd wanna watch Elmo with you later too."
Chrissie planted a kiss on Goober's button nose.
"I love Elmo, but I'm in love with someone else" said the little girl innocently.
A smirk tugged at the corners of Sam's mouth. The five year old couldn't get any more endearing.
"Who?" Sam curiously asked, with a brow raised. "Who is your one true love?"
The child's cheeks began to turn a slight shade of red. She then hugged Goober tightly against her chest.
"Prince Eric" Chrissie replied with a shy smile, causing her cheeks to blush even more. "From The Little Mermaid, but he won't wanna marry me. He's with Ariel. She is a girl fish. A girl fish with boobies."
Sam immediately walked towards the sink. He desperately wanted to burst out laughing just like Dean would've, but decided against it.
After all, it wasn't that long ago when he was in love with Smurfette. Dean always made fun of him but it didn't matter.
Plus, he hated when Dean talked about all the ones he fantasized over, mostly Jessica Rabbit. Sam was getting sick thinking about his brother's dirty mind, and even more annoyed that his five year old sister was mimicking Dean's humor and way of speaking. The thirteen year old gathered dirty bowls, when he heard a 'clank' from upstairs.
"I guess Dean's finally up," Sam said, heading out the kitchen. "You and Goober stay here and finish eating breakfast, I'll be right back."
Chrissie's watched her brother curiously, her small nose wrinkled like a rabbit. She was licking sticky oatmeal from her spoon.
"Where are you going?" asked the wide eyed little girl.
Sam paused at the threshold of the kitchen and gazed back at his baby sister fondly.
"I'm just gonna go upstairs, very quickly, to see what kinda mess Dean is making," answered Sam. "I'll be back. Then we can get you and Goober ready to help take care of Dean."
Sam then quickly ran upstairs and rushed into the bedroom he shared with Dean. He found his brother on the floor, huddling over a trash can.
Dean was still green and pale, but once again, Sam wanted to burst out laughing.
The thirteen year old helped his older brother back to bed, and settled the trash can near his bedside.
Upon returning to the kitchen, Sam was pleasantly surprised to see his sister wearing her new nurse's apron and hat. Complete with her medical bag in one hand, lab coat wearing assistant Goober in the other.
The hat was barely hanging on through her messy hair, and splotches of oatmeal decorated her mouth.
"Ta da! Nurse Chrissie and Doctor Goober! Ready to take care of our super sick patient" reported the scruffy five year old, with a mock military style salute.
Sam knelt down at his little sister's level, and whilst thumbing some of the oatmeal from her mouth, he smiled at her.
"How about when clean your face and hands first" commented the young teenage boy.
Chrissie nodded and hugged Goober to her chest, a serious yet sweet expression on her face. Her tiny feet were clad in spotty socks.
"Chrissie, do you know what a nurse does?" Sam questioned, whilst wiping his sister's face and hands with a damp cloth.
The tiny girl nodded, still holding her coat wearing teddy bear under her arm.
"She takes care of people when they feel yucky" replied the little girl.
Sam tweaked his sister's nose gently, making her giggle. He loved the sound of her laughter, as it brought a glimmer of light into his dark and disturbing world.
"Yeah, that's right," he answered. "She also helps by patting the patient down with a damp cloth; and feeding them; and rubbing their back. Does that make sense?"
When Chrissie nodded eagerly, it filled Sam with a sense of pride and admiration towards his baby sister. The five year old was so protective and extremely loyal towards her beloved big brothers.
"Good girl. Now that you're all clean, lets go see the patient" responded Sam.
Chrissie followed Sam obediently up the stairs. She then entered her the bedroom that her brothers shared. Dean was hunched over, puking into the trash can. Nervous, Chrissie hid herself behind Sam's legs.
A pout was growing on her face, as her green eyes were getting wider and wider with concern and sorrow.
"Don't be scared" said Sam.
The pout remained on her face, as she wandered over to her eldest brother. Dean noticed the little girl, who was wearing a mournful expression.
"I'm fine, baby," said Dean quietly, resting up on a pillow. "I just need to rest a little."
Chrissie then clambered up onto her brother's bed. She rested her tiny hand on his sweating forehead, whilst inspecting her invisible watch as she did so. Dean caught his younger brother's amused expression.
The little girl took out the colorful toy stethoscope from her bag and lifted her brother's t-shirt to listen to his heart beat.
"I guess you're in good hands with Nurse Chrissie, so I'll be downstairs doing research" said Sam, standing in the doorway.
When Sam vanished downstairs again, Chrissie placed an ear on her Dean's stomach.
"Oh my!" she squeaked in shock. "Your tummy is angry and it's talking!"
The child gazed up at him with worried eyes, her bottom lip trembling slightly.
"Don't die," she said in a quiet little voice. "I'd be very sad if you died."
Dean rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, as sweat collected on his forehead.
"Oh, I'm not dying, baby. I'll survive, and I'm really sorry if I'm scaring you. I'm gonna be alright in a few days," Dean commented softly, stroking the child's face. "I'm getting tired, and I'm going to sleep. Is that okay?"
The five year old girl nodded and pulled the bed sheets over her eldest brother, to keep him from catching a chill.
She sat on the bottom of his bed humming Hey Jude, even though she didn't know the exact words. Dean was soon asleep in a matter of seconds, making her happy.
Chrissie then set up her new crayons and coloring book, and she began to make her sick big brother pictures. She kept an eye on him while he slept. Before Chrissie knew it, Sam was softly tapping her on the shoulder, stating it was time for lunch.
The tiny girl picked up her bizarre teddy bear and placed him at the bottom of the bed, making sure her companion was facing Dean.
"You stay here and take care of him, Doctor Goober," instructed Chrissie, wagging her index finger at the inanimate toy. "If you don't, then your fired and you won't be my best friend anymore."
Bobby was at the kitchen table when Chrissie arrived. The five year old carried a feeling of sorrow with her as she shuffled into the kitchen. She climbed onto one of the kitchen chairs and held her little face in her hands, wearing a killer pout.
"What's the matter little darlin', aren't ya hungry?" asked Bobby, handing her a plate of grilled cheese and potato chips.
Chrissie shrugged her shoulders, as she pushed the plate of food away from her.
"I think you should eat, because you did a very good job with your patient," Sam mentioned, as he sat down next to her. He slid the plate back towards her. "Dean's asleep and that's a good thing."
Chrissie's bottom lip wobbled, and she pushed the plate away again. She removed her little hat, before putting her head in her arms.
Sam slightly smiled as Bobby let out a huge sigh. The kitchen became silent, until they heard Dean fall out of bed.
"Balls! That idjit probably tried to get out of bed" barked Bobby, looking up to the ceiling.
"I got it," Sam, standing up. He then glanced down at his baby sister, and pushed the plate toward her yet again. "While I'm gone, young lady, you need to eat this."
In a matter of minutes, Sam was heard yelling at Dean, explaining he needed bed rest.
"Goober was looking after him," muttered Chrissie, lifting her head, in order to make eye contact with Bobby. "I left him upstairs."
For a such a young child, Bobby could see wisdom and a large amount of sadness in her eyes. It never mattered if she was happy, the sorrow would still be there.
"Well, that was very smart of ya," Bobby pointed out. "So, why the gloomy face and no appetite?"
"When people are super sick that means their dying," said Chrissie, her voice a hushed whisper. "Dean's dying."
Bobby let out another huge sigh, thinking how John messed up again with his children. John should be the one handling the heartaches and sickness.
"Dean's not dying; he thinks he is, but he'll be better in no time," he told the little girl. "If I were you, I'd be enjoying the peace and quiet."
A tear drop trickled down the child's pale freckled cheek.
"I don't like it when he's sick" sniffed Chrissie.
Bobby sighed yet again as he rolled his eyes.
"Hell, no one does!" the older hunter remarked. "Your brother is the worst patient; he doesn't stay in bed and complains about every damn thing."
At that moment, Sam returned the kitchen, carrying a fully loaded laundry basket.
"Apparently our patient thinks he's not sick and tried to get dressed. He somehow made a mess of his clothes and sheets, but still denies he's sick," explained Sam, tossing the items into the washer. He noticed his sister's untouched plate of food. "Chrissie? You still haven't eaten."
Chrissie buried her head into her arms. The middle Winchester sibling pulled a chair over to comfort his little sister.
"What's wrong?" he asked, gently lifting her face up, "Are you sick too?"
With a cute pout, Chrissie shook her head.
"No," sniffled the little girl. "When people are sick it makes me very sad."
Sam stroked her hair, as if she was a tiny kitten. As feisty and boisterous as she was, Chrissie had a heart of gold.
"Yeah, me too," admitted Sam. "Actually, you might get sick if you don't get enough nutrients in your system, so how about you take a bite. I made it just the way you like. Not too squishy or too black."
Chrissie made no statement, and sat there looking vulnerable. She simply shook her head, lips tightly closed.
"Please, for me," pleaded Sam.
The five year old's eyes were now bigger, almost like a Japanese anime character.
"I like the way Dean makes it better" said Chrissie, softly.
Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was one thing to deal with a sick older brother who was a stubborn as a mule, but to deal with an equally stubborn child. Sam could at least sympathized with Dean over the frustration and hardship of raising a little girl.
"Yeah, I do too, however, I think a did a good job copying it," replied Sam. "When he gets better then he'll be able to make it for you."
Chrissie slowly began to eat, still looking very vulnerable and innocent. The child seemed to be born with the ability to tug on heart strings with any slight expression that conveyed sadness.
She didn't speak a word as she ate, her eyes glazed with worry and sorrow as they drifted up towards the ceiling every now and again. After lunch, the two siblings ventured upstairs.
"You sure Dean's not dying?" Chrissie asked.
Sam knew his sister wasn't going to let go of this belief easily. Children often created silly ideas in their heads, and it usually ended up making them very worried or scared.
"I'm positive," Sam assured, gently guiding her up the stairs. "Like I said, he'll be fine in a couple of days."
She thought about the statement, taking one stair at a time, They walked into the room, where Dean was half in bed.
"Dude, whatcha doin' now?!" squawked Sam, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Dean glared at his younger brother. The last thing he wanted was his thirteen year old brother going into Mother Hen mode.
"Sammy, I need to get started on that research that Bobby gave us yesterday" he said, his whole body shivering with fever.
Dean reluctantly lay back down, despite his head and stomach spinning like crazy. The mattress was soft against his tired, aching bones and muscles. His focus turned to the little girl hiding behind Sam.
"Sorry you gotta see me like this, sweetheart" Dean admitted, knowing his baby sister must be terrified.
Silence soon followed for a few minutes before Sam cleared his throat, in order to break the stillness.
"Hey, why don't you show Dean, the pictures you made for him," said Sam, leveling himself with Chrissie.
Paper and crayons cluttered the bottom of Dean's bed. The colorful drawings were mostly of odd shaped people and strange looking creatures.
"Wow, you made me pictures" said Dean, a soft yet pained smile on his face.
The little girl slowly gathered them all in her hands and gave the patient his pictures. She cuddled into his side, holding Goober once again in her arms.
"These are awesome!" exclaimed Dean, before holding up a few of the drawings. "Sammy, did you see these? Our sister is really talented."
This caused Chrissie to blush slightly, her shy expression was completely endearing.
"Well, I guess I'm going back down to the study. Still got books to read through," declared Sam, clearing his throat once again. "By the way, Nurse Chrissie is in charge."
After those words, Sam left the bedroom. Still very quiet and full of anxiety, Chrissie watched her beloved big brother. She hugged Goober to her chest, as she cuddled into her eldest sibling's side.
"Are you gonna stare at me all day?" smirked Dean, stroking her soft mane of brown hair. "You wanna make more pictures for me? Maybe draw even me Godzilla fighting King Kong?"
When the little girl remained silent, Dean held her tight, knowing full well he was to blame for her unhappiness. Plus, their father would be ashamed of how he frightened her.
"I'm so sorry, baby," apologized the seventeen year old. "Do you wanna take a nap with me now? I'm getting sleepy."
Chrissie sniffled and nodded her head in reply. She gazed up at her brother with watering puppy dog eyes. Her hair was sticking up, as if she had been plugged into an electric socket.
"Alright, lets close our eyes" hushed Dean, wrapping his arms around the small child protectively.
He then began to softly sing Hey Jude. A song that was dear to their hearts, as it was their late mother's favorite song. Chrissie relaxed as soon as she heard the familiar lullaby, and her eyes closed after several minutes.
The remainder of the afternoon was pleasantly quiet, until Dean woke Chrissie up by pushing her to the side. He couldn't stop puking in the trash can, which scared his baby sister. The pain in his stomach was increasing and his sweating skin was on fire.
After the vomiting ceased, Chrissie wasn't sure what to do next. Using her initiative, Chrissie took it upon herself to start dabbing her cherished brother's burning forehead with a damp cloth.
"Please don't die," pleaded the little girl, her eyes wide with fear. "I don't want you to die."
Dean wanted to reassure her but couldn't catch his breath, causing more vomit to gush from his throat. The seventeen year old was so incredibly out of it, that he didn't even hear his cell phone ring. The cell phone rested on his bedside table. This latest model of technology resembled a brick more than a phone. Maybe in a decade or so, the design of cell phones would change.
The deeply concerned little girl answered the ringing device, hoping that it was some form of help on the other end.
"Hello?" mumbled Chrissie. "Are you a doctor?"
A few seconds of silence passed until she heard a very familiar voice. A voice she hadn't heard in over two months. Her father.
"Chrissie, is that you?" asked John.
So sorry about this late update, college has been taking over my time recently.
Hope you all enjoy this latest chapter and again, sorry about the wait.
Stay tuned!
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