A/N: Thanks for the reviews and suggestions that have inspired me to continue this story. For all those reviewers who wanted Sam to get sicker (how cruel, ha ha) and Dean to be there to comfort him, this is for you.
Please please please review – I live for feedback.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters …
Chapter 4
Sam felt he had a routine now, although that didn't make things any easier. He felt like crap, and knew there was nothing he could do except wait it out.
He sat back on the cold bathroom floor tiles, within easy reach of the toilet. There was no point in getting up until he was sure the latest bout was over. Vomiting was becoming more painful with every session of retching. There was precious little in his stomach, but his body was determined to extract every ounce from within. His whole body now felt racked with pain, from his exhausted stomach muscles, aching head, to his tired limbs. Hanging his head to rest on his arms, he sat quietly, waiting out the tremors running through his body. Waiting for it to end.
"Sam. …Sam" the incessant banging on the door reverberated through Sam's aching head. "Sammy, you okay in there? …I'm coming in" Dean stated determinedly.
"I'm okay ..I'll be out in a minute." Sam responded; Dean's banging having roused him. He must have slipped into a doze, he thought, climbing hesitantly to his feet.
Sam held tightly onto the sink for support as the room swam in and out of focus. He splashed some cold water on his face, hoping it would clear the fuzziness in his head. Taking a small sip of water from his cupped hand, Sam knew he must be starting to feel the effects of dehydration. He hadn't been drinking very much, and what he had drunk, hadn't stayed down. He took another small tentative sip of water.
He had to muster all his strength to let go of the sink support, and make his way to the bathroom door. He wanted to put on a stronger facade in front of his brother. Grasping the door frame for support, Sam opened the door quietly before making his way back to his bed.
Dean stood by and watched as his brother weaved his way back to bed, ready to jump in and catch him should he fall. Sam seemed unaware of how unsteady he appeared to be on his feet, and Dean decided to leave him with a little pride and dignity – this time. Going to Sam's bedside, Dean took in Sam's pallor and sunken features with concern.
"Sam, maybe you should see a doctor." Suggested Dean; knowing that Sam was unlikely to agree to the notion.
"I'm just exhausted Dean. Should be better in a couple of days." Sam replied, stifling a yawn. His whole body ached, and he really just wanted to sleep for a few hours. He just needed a few hours rest from the pain.
Dean looked at Sam, assessing his condition. "Will you be right if I go to the store for ten minutes?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Yeah Sam, I can plainly see that." Dean replied sarcastically.
"Bite me" was Sam's mumbled response.
"Nah, don't want to get sick." Dean jabbed back, grabbing his keys and leaving the room.
Sam rolled to his side and clutched his stomach, trying to lessen the pain. Moaning, Sam buried his head in his pillow, closed his eyes and waited for the oblivion that he hoped would come with sleep.
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Dean returned quietly to the room 15 minutes later. He would have been quicker, but had decided to stop and extend their room stay by another couple of days.
Dean noticed immediately that Sam had curled into a fetal position clutching a pillow. He was obviously in a light restless sleep, moaning and mumbling.
Dean grabbed his newly purchased supplies, and poured a glass of electrolyte drink for Sam. Taking the drink and a packet of Tylenol over to his brother's bed, Dean sat on the edge, looking closely at his brother. He really didn't want to wake him; however his sleep hardly seemed peaceful. Lightly brushing Sam's hair from his face, and running his fingertips through the shaggy mop, Dean gently spoke Sam's name a few times in an attempt to rouse him from sleep.
Sam rolled towards Dean's stroking hand, seeking reassurance in the familiar touch. He could hear Dean's voice saying his name, but was reluctant to open his eyes, enjoying this moment of comfort between the rounds of pain.
"Sammy, open your eyes."
Sam reluctantly opened his eyes to Dean's incessant command, immediately resulting in a cessation of the comforting touch. Yeah, thought Sam, couldn't have any touchy feeling moments when he was actually awake and coherent.
Sam looked at Dean, wanting to know what was so important that he had to be pulled from the soothing moment.
Dean held up the glass of electrolyte drink and two tablets that he wanted Sam to take.
"Sam, you need to drink some of this and I picked up some Tylenol to help with the pain. It'll help you sleep easier."
Sam eased his shoulders up the bed and took the offered glass and tablets. Taking a small sip, he quickly swallowed the Tylenol before going to hand the glass back to Dean.
"No, you've got to drink a little more" insisted Dean.
Sam was too weary to argue. Under Dean's scrutiny, he continued to take small mouthfuls of the drink until Dean willingly took the glass back from him.
"Try to get some more sleep" Dean said, pulling the bed covers up over Sam's chest.
"Thanks Dean" mumbled Sam, already on his way back to sleep.
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The routine was set for the next couple of days. Dean continued to loiter restlessly around the room, plying Sam with fluids and Tylenol at regular intervals. Sam spent the majority of his time in bed, between the now less frequent trips to the bathroom.
It was a relief to both brothers, when about half a week from the onset; Sam seemed to be on the road to recovery.
Dean was so sick of the crappy motel room and was eager for Sam to be getting up and about. He thought he'd go stir crazy if he had to spend much longer in the room, the motel, hell, even the crappy town. He wanted OUT now.
Watching Dean trying to entertain himself in the cramped motel room had gone from amusing to annoying for Sam. Dean was like a caged tiger; he couldn't just sit and read or watch TV. No, he had to fiddle and play with things, and had systematically been demolishing things within the room – pulling at threads, tearing up magazines to throw paper balls at furniture targets and tossing m-m's into light fittings. He knew that Dean was impatient for them to be on their way.
Sam now felt immeasurably better that he had over the last few days. The worst of the symptoms seemed to have nearly dissipated, just leaving him feeling weak and tired. He'd like nothing better than to just rest up for a couple more days, but doubted he would be allowed such luxury, at least, not in peace anyway. As much as he wanted to rest, it wasn't possible to really relax with Dean in the room, prowling restlessly. He knew he would probably get more sleep in the Impala, Dean being occupied with the driving.
Feeling a little guilty for having gotten sick and keeping them holed up in the first place, Sam decided that he needed to give a bigger effort to be back on his feet.
Just as an m-m came sailing through the air to hit him on the top of the head, Sam decided it was time to get up and pull his reluctant body back in to the world of the living.
"Hey, I'm gonna take a shower." Sam said, making his way towards the bathroom. "You wanna grab us some dinner?"
Dean was enthused that Sam seemed a little perkier, and had actually instigated the mention of food. "Yeah, what do you feel like? Pizza, burger …?"
"Anything will do …anything plain." He threw back, before closeting himself in the bathroom.
Sam wasn't really all that enthused about eating dinner, but knew he had to eat to recover his strength. He just hoped that Dean did bring back something he could face eating. He still felt ridiculously weak, and needed to gather his strength before they found another hunt. At the moment, frustratingly, if he stood or turned too quickly, he became dizzy, but he felt this would pass as he got some more nutrients inside of him.
He took a long lazy hot shower, relishing the feeling of the soothing water. He didn't realize how long he'd been in there until Dean started banging on the door.
"Hey, don't use all the hot water …I got food."
"Yeah, I'll just be a minute." Sam yelled back, quickly shutting off the shower before toweling himself dry. He felt dizzy after standing under the hot water for so long, and had to hang his head low in an effort to gain his equilibrium before going to join Dean in the next room.
Tossing on some clean clothes, he turned hopefully to the bag on the table, wondering what Dean had got him.
"Toasted cheese sandwich." Dean said, noticing Sam's trepidation in opening the food bag.
"Thanks Dean." Sam said, opening the wrapper and retrieving the sandwich.
Sam took small tentative bites of the sandwich, savoring the taste, but cautious about his stomach's ability to digest the food. After nearly half an hour of small bites, Sam had finished the complete sandwich, and leaned back in satisfaction. It felt good to fill the empty hollow feeling in his stomach.
Dean followed Sam's eating progress, satisfied that Sam seemed to be recovering. "Might as well think about heading out in the morning" he stated, seeking a response from Sam.
Sam looked at Dean, seeing his eagerness for a positive response. "Yeah, might as well."
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Waking the next morning, Sam was pleased to note the absence of nausea. Glancing across at the next bed, he saw that Dean was already up, and both their bags were packed and placed neatly on the end of the now vacant bed. Yeah, he thought, Dean's definitely planning to hit the road ASAP. Looking around, he spied the scribbled note from Dean letting him know that his brother had just ducked out for coffee.
Swinging his legs of the bed and standing quickly, Sam was assaulted by a wave of intense dizziness. Clutching at the wall for support, he was thankful that his brother wasn't here to witness his momentary weakness.
Making his way to the bathroom, Sam wiped his hand across his tired eyes. Even though he'd had a full nights sleep, he still felt fatigued. Looking in the mirror, Sam had to admit that he still looked like crap too. Quickly shaving and washing his face, he tried to bring his appearance back into a look of normality.
A bit of grooming later, and the image in the mirror was much improved. He might feel like crap, but it didn't mean he had to look like crap too, he thought.
Hearing Dean enter the adjacent room, Sam took a deep breath, before joining his brother.
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Dean had bustled Sam out of the motel room quickly, as if afraid staying in the room too long would cause Sam a relapse and prevent them from leaving.
They'd been on the road a couple of hours, and although Sam had slept a little, he was ready for a break. Finding a comfortable position in the car when your whole body still ached wasn't easy, and Sam was starting to regret agreeing to leave the motel today. In contrast to his discomfort, Sam noticed that Dean had a cheerfulness about him that he hadn't seen in a few days. Behind the wheel of his beloved car with his music blaring, Dean was in his element.
Discretely rubbing his aching head with his hand, he asked "Could you turn the music down Dean?"
Turning down the volume, Dean glanced across at Sam in concern. "You feeling okay Sammy?"
"Yeah, I'm fine …just a bit tired."
Sam closed his eyes, letting the fatigue wash over him. He was hoping desperately that Dean didn't want a long day of driving. Struggling to find a comfortable position, Sam unconsciously rubbed his aching stomach and chest in an attempt to alleviate the pain radiating through his body.
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Sam woke slowly when Dean brought the car to a stop small at a gas station on the outskirt of some small town. Just before going to pay for the gas, Dean noticed Sam was finally awake. "Want anything?" Dean asked, indicating with a tilt of his head the small shop attached to the gas station.
Stretching in the confined space, Sam took a moment to comprehend Dean's question. "Ah …just a bottle of water" he replied, before opening the car door. Standing quickly, he was glad to have the car for support when the dizziness returned. "I'm just gonna use the rest room" he said as Dean was walking away from the car.
Sam was relieved that Dean didn't see his first failed attempt to leave the support of the car door. He felt faint and tried to take deep breaths to steady himself. Pain radiated through his chest, and he had to bend over double to relive some of the discomfort. Taking a few shallow breaths, it took a couple of minutes before Sam was able to make his way to the rest rooms behind the gas station.
Sam only took a few moments in the rest room, not wanting Dean to have to come looking for him. Making his way slowly back to the car, he considered asking Dean if they could stop for the day, even though it was only lunch time.
On reaching the car, Sam could see Dean still inside the small shop, chatting to the young female cashier. Dean was incorrigible, he thought, before painfully easing himself back into the car. Rubbing a hand over his chest and left shoulder, he tried to ease the cramping pain radiating through him.
Sam was sitting quietly in the car with his head against the window when Dean finally returned. Tossing him the bottled water, Sam struggled to catch it, his reflexes slow. The water was blessingly cold though, and Sam took a moment to wipe the bottle against his brow.
Sam's actions didn't go undetected by Dean, who quickly placed a hand on Sam's forehead before he could protest. "You feel a little hot there kiddo."
"I'm fine Dean." Sam protested automatically.
"Yeah right. …Are you going to puke?"
"Dean, I said I'm fine."
"Yeah whatever. I reckon we'll call it a day soon and find a motel." Dean stated emphatically, getting no argument from a relieved Sam.
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It was nearly two hours later that Dean eventually pulled the Impala to a stop in front of a moderate looking motel. As Dean went to the front office to get them a room, Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He watched Dean drive past numerous motels, and had started to fear that he intended to drive until evening, even though they had no set destination.
Dean returned a few moments later, jangling the room keys. He drove the car quickly to their designated parking spot, directly in front of their room.
Sam was silently glad that he wouldn't have far to walk. Contemplating the easiest way to get his aching body from the car without toppling over, Sam was unaware that Dean had already popped the truck and grabbed their bags, waiting for Sam to make a move.
"Coming Sam?" Dean asked, watching Sam as he made no attempt to move from the stationary car.
"Yeah." Sam answered, opening the car door before using it to support himself to a stand. Gasping quietly, Sam tried to hide the pain he was in.
Dean watched as Sam struggled to get out of the car. He felt guilty for driving for so long, knowing that Sam was still recovering and not yet one hundred per cent fit. Opening the door to their room and dropping the bags inside, Dean quickly returned to Sam, wrapping an arm under Sam's shoulder to assist his brother into the room.
Supporting Sam to the bed at the far end of the room, Dean quickly became concerned at the heat radiating off his brother. Dean helped his brother lay back on the bed; "Sam, seriously, how're you feeling?" he asked.
"Dean, I don't feel so good" whispered Sam.
Placing a hand on his brother's fevered forehead, Dean was instantly concerned about how high Sam's temperature was.
Running a hand across Sam's damp hair and brushing it back from his face, Dean looked at Sam in concern. "Sam, I'm just gonna get the first aid kit from the trunk" Dean said, before hurriedly returning to the car.
Lying on the bed, Sam struggled to get the much needed air into his lungs. Every breath hurt, and the more he struggled to breathe, the greater the pain in his chest became. As a few dry coughs racked his body, Sam struggled with the darkness encroaching on the periphery of his vision. He hoped desperately that Dean would hurry back.
TBC.