A/N: Hi again to everyone. I was a little 'out of sorts' when I posted the first chapter so I guess I'll toss in a brief bit of story history here. For anyone that didn't already figure it out, this is a sequel to my very first fanfic, "You Can Pick Your Friends But Not Your Family." It was written during the summer of 2007 and I personally think it's not one of my better pieces of work. (That's my opinion though and I am entitled to it.) You can totally tell I was a newbie when you read it and I'm thinking I may just tweak it from its original posting at SNville. (It most definitely couldn't hurt) It's complete, so I'll post it fast just to appease the powers that be. (Yeah, you know who you are…) Anyway, thanks to anyone that is reading it and God Bless You!

Chapter 2

It took more than the two hours Sam had anticipated making the trip from Wisconsin to Illinois in. He hadn't planned on the three stops they'd have to make to let Dean out of the car to get sick. He'd long since finished throwing up anything that had once resembled food, leaving his stomach with nothing left in it to expel but occasional bloody spit. But when the urge was there, he couldn't control it or stop it and when he'd finally finished what was really nothing more than painful dry heaving now, he was physically spent and unable to even move. Once he would go still, Sam would just reposition him, get back in the car, and continue the trek south.

Dean had just about soaked the comforter Sam had wrapped him in through and the chills racking his limp frame made him look like an epileptic in the thralls of one very long seizure. Sam thought for sure he'd have blisters on his leg from the heat radiating off Dean's body and he'd occasionally let out a moan, indicating to Sam how much pain he had to be in.

The sight of the house was more of a relief then Sam could have believed. He pulled up as close to the door as he could, just short of driving up onto the grass. He leapt out of the car, shot up the steps to the front door like a bullet and started rapping on the door like a madman. It took all of two seconds before someone answered, two seconds too long to Sam.

"Jesus Christ Sam, lay off the door! Breaking it down isn't gonna get you in here any faster. What the hell's going on?"

"Can you help me bring him in? I think I'm hurting him every time I touch him."

"Just relax a minute Sam, let me go look at him first."

She peered into the car and sized up the situation pretty quickly. Giving Sam the 'give me a minute' sign, she went back inside. She returned quickly and went straight back to the car, ignoring the pacing man every step of the way. Sam followed right behind her and climbed back into the driver's seat, ready to do whatever was needed to help. She peeled back the wet blanket from Dean's sweaty skin, pulled down the soaked boxers, and shot him crudely in the ass with a very long needle. With the palm of her hand, she roughly massaged the fluid into the muscle she had just injected something into, helping it infiltrate faster. She was met with a few grunts and groans, but no resistance.

"Just wait a few minutes Sam; it'll be easier to get him out of the car once that kicks in."

"What was it?"

"Demerol. It won't kill all the pain, but it'll make it tolerable. How long has he been like that?"

"I'm not sure. Sometime between late last night and early this morning."

"What were you two doing last night?"

"Hunting a friggin' forest fairy. After we got it, we ate, had a couple beers, and then went back to the motel."

"What did he eat?"

"What does he always eat? A Burger and fries."

She shook her head, noticing that Dean had relaxed a little. He didn't feel like a wound up rubber band ready to snap anymore. "I think we can get him inside now. Can you do it, or do you need help?"

"I'd appreciate some help. It was hell just trying to get him in the car."

"Get that blanket around him, I'll be right back." Again, she went into the house. This time she came back with someone else, someone Sam remembered only too well. "Sam, you remember Dan Scott?"

"How could I forget? Hello Dr. Scott." Sam extended his shaking hand and the doctor accepted it, gripping Sam's hand in a skin vice. He had to say one thing for the doc, he had a firm handshake.

"It's Dan, and we've got to stop meeting like this Sam."

"That'd be just fine by me."

"Each of you grab an end of that blanket, and carry him inside in it."

With Sam at one end, he wrapped the blanket up like a cocoon, sliding Dean' body out enough for Dan to grab the other end. Carrying him by the blanket, they took him inside and straight to the basement. They laid him out on the bed, finally removing the saturated cover he'd been wrapped in for hours.

Lou and Dan went to work, looking like well oiled machine together. She started the IV and did a cursory exam, while Dan took Dean's temperature and blood pressure.

"Temps 104.5, pressure's 160/90. I'll get the cooling blanket."

"Sam, how long has he had that high of a fever?"

"First time I checked it this morning it was already that high, so, all day."

"And what else, besides the obvious cramping? Any diarrhea or vomiting?"

"He was throwing up this morning, then dry heaving all the way here. A couple times he threw up blood. Nothing from the other end though."

"Sam, you may want to wait upstairs. I need to examine him, and he isn't gonna like it much. There's only one way for me to see if anything's ruptured or blocked in there, and I don't think you really want to learn how that is."

Sam was pretty sure he knew what she was getting at already and didn't need to be told twice. "Uh, maybe I'll go check on the car. How long should it take me?"

"Take about a half hour. That should do it."

"Yeah, good idea." Sam hated leaving his brother when he was like this, but he wasn't sticking around for what he knew was coming. Even in the state Dean was currently in, he doubted he was going to be very cooperative for THAT exam.

Grabbing their gear from the car, Sam dropped it at the front door and picked a place on the couch to sit and wait. The basement door was open, giving him a play by play of the events down there. His mind wandered off, and he started daydreaming, or daynightmaring, whatever you want to call it. His thoughts were broken by the sound of metal objects clanging to the floor, and a very agitated voice screaming.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" Sam definitely knew whose mouth those words came from.

"DEAN, DON'T MAKE ME TIE YOU DOWN!" He recognized that voice right away too.

"LET GO OF ME!"

"DEAN, ONE WAY OR ANOTHER WE ARE DOING THIS. WHETHER IT'S THE EASY WAY OR THE HARD WAY IS UP TO YOU. DO YOU REALLY WANT ME TO GO GET SAM SO HE CAN HOLD YOU DOWN?"

"No." That was the first calm thing he'd said.

"Do you want me to sedate him, Lou?" The third voice asked. Guess that completed the entire peanut gallery in the basement.

"Maybe you should. We can't do this if he's tighter then a drum."

Those were the last heated voices he heard. The rest was medical mumbo jumbo that made no sense, so he just stopped listening; the occasional groan in his brother's voice echoing up the stairs being the only thing he really heard that registered anymore. He was going to lock the memory of today back somewhere in his brain for future use though. Someday, there's going to be good material there.

Lou came back up over an hour later and plopped herself on the other end of the couch rather hard before addressing the younger man. "You ok Sam?"

"I'm fine. What about him?"

"He'll be fine. He picked up a pretty nasty strain of staphylococcus aureus, commonly causing food poisoning. He got so sick so fast, his body dehydrated faster then it could flush the toxins out. He had a slight blockage in his bowel, which Dan is treating right now. I'll spare you the details on the how."

"I think I can figure it out." 'Yep, future there material for sure.'

"Once we get things flushed out, his fever should go down. I think the violent vomiting episodes triggered a case of gastritis, which is why you saw blood in it. His stomach should heal up on its own once he stops throwing up. We'll rehydrate him and he'll be as good as new in a couple days."

"What would we do without you?"

"Probably die, but hey, that's what I'm here for."

She closed her eyes, and laid her head down on the armrest of the couch, looking totally spent. Sam had not said anything, but it had not gone unnoticed how thin and frail she looked. She almost made Nicole Richie look like Kirstie Alley, pre-Jenny Craig. Her cheeks were sunken in and her eyes didn't have their usual fire in them. They were distant and dull. She moved like an old lady carrying a load of groceries up ten flights of stairs, and her skin was deathly pale.

"Lou, you feel alright?"

"Yeah Sam, I'm just tired. I'm gonna go to bed, ok?" She stated it, but made no effort to get up from the couch to actually do it. Sam was pretty sure she'd fallen asleep already. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over her, just letting her sleep.

When Dan finally came back up, Sam was full of questions that begged for answers.

"Dean's gonna be fine Sam. We couldn't get much cooperation out of him, so we sedated him. He'll be out until morning at the earliest, maybe even afternoon. You can go see him if you want."

"I think I'll just let him sleep. Right now, I want to know what's wrong with her," he said, pointing at the sleeping form at the other end of the couch.

Answering that question was going to take some time, so he took the chair opposite Sam and attempted to answer. "After you guys left a few months ago, she changed. She started working double, sometimes triple shifts. She'd be at the hospital for days at a time, sleeping a couple hours here and there in the staff lounge. I told her it was too soon for her to come back in the first place, let alone work all those hours. She wasn't fully recovered from what happened, but that didn't matter to her. She also stopped socializing with other people. I'm sure you didn't know, but we were kind of seeing each other before you guys showed up, nothing serious, just testing the water. Then, after you two left, she said she didn't want any other relationships but professional ones. She said that to everyone that considered her a friend here. So she stopped having a life, and just started beating her body into the ground. Then, her body fought back. First, she got pneumonia, in the good lung. The other lung only functions at 30, so you can imagine what kind of hell that caused. She was in the hospital for two weeks for that. That was a little over two months ago. Since then, she's fatigued, she gets fevers for no reason, she sleeps for hours every day, she doesn't eat, and her body aches all the time and she bruises easier then bananas. I've tested her for everything under the sun, from mono, to lime disease, to leukemia. Nothing. I want her to go see a friend of mine at the Mayo Clinic, but she refuses. I think she just doesn't care anymore, and it breaks my heart."

"She never said anything. All the times I've talked to her over the last couple months, she hasn't said a word. I had no idea. Is that why you're here? You checking up on her?"

"Me and a couple others come by every day to see how she is and try to make her eat. She's a stubborn, pigheaded woman that doesn't listen to anyone. But we care about her, so we keep coming. She has these episodes too Sam, every now and then. She'll get so exhausted she just drops. We've gotten to the point where someone is here all the time just to keep an eye on her. We don't know what else to do."

Sam was beginning to wonder if the fates were doing things to them for a reason. If Dean hadn't gotten sick, they never would have been here, and they never would have known what was going on. He just wished the fates were a little more subtle. They really didn't need to be all in your face like this.

"Maybe we can convince her to go. We can be pretty persuasive you know." And Sam thought if they couldn't convince her, they'd just tie her up, throw her in the car, and take her there themselves.

"Give it your best shot, hasn't worked for any of us yet."

"Should we take her upstairs?"

"Nah, leave her there. She'll be awake in a couple hours. She only sleeps a couple hours at a time anyway, and then she's only up a couple hours at a time after. Today was the longest stretch she's been up in months. She was pacing that floor the minute she got that message."

Sam chuckled inwardly at the thought that had just crossed his mind. Stubborn and pigheaded. Must be some kind of disease that ran in the Winchester family, because they all had it, and one day it was going to be terminal to one of them.

"Sam, since you're here, I think I'm gonna head out. She'll be out for a couple hours at least, and I need to get to the hospital soon, or they may report me missing. I think Alex is coming by in a little while. Probably a good idea, have someone checking on both of them. I'll be back tomorrow. Sorry to bug out, but I really do gotta go."

"Thanks Doc."

The minute he'd walked out the door, Sam picked Lou up off the couch, and, utterly shocked at the lack of effort it required, took her upstairs and put her in bed. She was dead to the world. He then went to check on his brother. He was grateful to see him sleeping comfortably, considering how he'd been over the last few hours. His body was still hot, but had cooled down considerably, and his shaking had stopped. It amazed him that big, bad, Dean Winchester could be taken down so easily by bacteria. God really did have a sense of humor, didn't she? (God had to be a woman, who else would pick on Dean so much?)

With nothing else to do, Sam just went back upstairs, dropped onto the couch, and closed his eyes. Yet another long day in the life of Sam Winchester, where every day was an adventure. The ringing of the doorbell was an unwelcome sound. Sam just wanted to be alone right now. He opened the door, dropped his head, and just stared at the tall, dark haired beauty in front of him. She had long, sleek hair and deep, dark eyes. Her skin was a flawless creamy ivory. She wore no makeup, she didn't need to. She was stunning just the way she was.

"Excuse me, may I come in?" She spoke to him, but he still couldn't break his gaze from her. "Hello, earth to tall, freaky guy. Are you in there?"

That finally got Sam's attention. "Oh, sorry, are you Alex?"

"That'd be me, and you are?"

"Sam. Nice to meet you."

"Hi Sam Nicetomeetyou. You a friend of Lou?"

"You could say that. Known each other since we were kids. My brother got sick, so we kinda ended up making a surprise visit."

"Sorry to hear that. He ok?"

"Yeah, he's sleeping downstairs. And Lou's sleeping upstairs. I guess you want to come in, huh?"

"I think I already asked that. That'd be why I'm here, thanks."

Sam was making a total ass out of himself, but he just couldn't seem to stop. He was tongue tied, nervous, and his hands were sweating. He couldn't stop staring at Alex, there was just something about her, something alluring, something he couldn't put his finger on, but he knew he'd like to try.

"Mind if I go check in on the patient? I already got the briefing from Dr. Scott, so you can spare me the details. Then, I'll check on the pseudo-patient upstairs."

"Knock yourself out. I'll just wait here."

"Good idea, thanks."

She headed down to the basement, spent a few minutes there, then went straight upstairs, closing the door to Lou's room without saying a word. She was up there much longer, long enough for Sam to wonder what she was doing. He was about to head up when she came down, with a look of exasperation on her face.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, Yes. Dr. Scott told me she hasn't eaten all day, and trying to get her to is like asking a politician to tell the truth. Impossible. She just keeps telling me to leave her alone and let her sleep."

"She has had a pretty stressful day. I'm sure that's because of us. Dean has that effect on people for some reason." Sam kept the details of today to himself, although he suspected she may already know.

"Stressful is not an excuse. She does this all the time, and it's getting pretty frustrating. I've never met someone as stubborn as her."

"Wait until you meet Dean."

"Doesn't sound like I want to. I don't think I can handle two obstinate people at the same time. One's enough."

"You know her pretty well, huh?"

"Well enough. I've only been here four months, but I learn fast. Fast enough to know not to piss her off."

"You've only know her four months? And you come all the way out here help her out?"

"She saved my ass once, it's the least I can do. Besides, it's a little like babysitting, only no baby. I don't mind, really."

"I think it's great. Most people wouldn't do that."

"Most people suck. That's just how life is. Listen, if you don't mind, I'm gonna go crash out for little while. I just pulled a double at the hospital, and I'm exhausted. You got a preference to a room upstairs?"

'Yeah, whichever one you're in' Sam thought. "No, you take one, I'll take the other. Doesn't matter to me."

"Fine, I got the little one. If you're still here, I guess I'll see you later."

"Oh, I'll be here," Sam whispered.

The house was silent. It should be at four in the morning. The dark shadow crept silently into the bedroom, blanketing what little moonlight shone in through the window. It leaned over the bed, placing a hand over the sleeping woman's chest. She stirred slightly in her sleep, until the other hand found its way over her forehead. Then it started to draw what little energy she had left out of her. It knew she would soon be an empty husk, but she'd had so much to begin with, and it was so sweet, it couldn't help itself. She was a wealth of fuel for it, and it intended on taking every drop before it moved on.