Chapter Two

Dean rolled onto his left side. Tried to settle. For a few minutes the ache in his bones stayed at bay and he felt his eyes begin to close. Just as his mind began to drift the ache came back full force and he turned over, onto his right side.

Suddenly the temperature in the room began to rise and he rolled onto his back. Kicking off the covers and sighing heavily. He felt bad, worse than bad. He'd managed to keep what he thought was a cold from Sam for a few days. Just a blocked nose, nothing he couldn't handle. But the blocked nose had given way to chills and Sam had spotted that like a lighthouse in a storm.

No doubt about it. He was sick.

After convincing Sam that it was nothing more than a heavy cold he'd crawled into the bed and slept in fits and bursts. Sam by his side each time he woke, hovering and barely controlling his need to fuss. That morning, after batting away Sam's hand for the hundredth time, Dean had found himself suddenly feeling very queasy and practically fell into the bathroom to do a rewind of his breakfast. He'd thrown up once, sat back and stared out the open bathroom door, stared at Sam who stood with his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side. Sympathetic look on his face.

"You're sick."

"No Sam, I've been sick. There's a difference."

"Dean. Come on man."

"I'm fine Sam."

Dean gripped the bath behind him and lifted himself to his feet, he walked forward toward his brother but with each step Sam seemed to fall further into the background. He felt sweat break out across his brow, his mouth became as dry as sand and his lips went completely numb. As Dean's legs gave way Sam reached him and gently guided him toward the floor, soothing the whole time.

"Whoa Dean! It's ok man, I gotcha , it's ok. Just keep breathing big brother. That's it."

Sam held Dean in his lap and rested his hand on the back of his unconscious siblings head. Frowning, he reached behind him and pulled his bag from the bed, rummaging through until he found the thermometer. Once the beep sounded he pulled the device from Dean's ear and frowned again. 103.1.

Yep. Dean was sick.

"Dean? Hey man can you hear me?"

"Sam'y?"

"Yeah man. It's ok, you fainted."

Dean weakly shook his head and slowly opened his eyes, squinting as the early morning light burned into the back of his skull.

"No."

"No what Dean?"

"Didn't faint."

"Really big brother?"

"Nope."

"Well what would you call It then? Cos you sure as hell took a dive downward."

"Just needed a little nap."

"Oh really." Laughed Sam. "How are you feeling now?"

"Like you need to get out from under me dude."

"Ok man, lets get you up and into bed."

"I can do it."

Sam ignored his comment and helped Dean slowly sit forward. The second he reached a sitting position the colour drained from his face again . Sam moved to the front of Dean and gently pushed his head down , keeping a hand on the back of his neck.

"You ok man?"

"Just give me a minute Sam. I'm ok."

"Yeah, sure you are."

Sam kept his hand in place. Slowly Dean's colour began to return and he lifted his head, weary eyes finding Sam's concerned ones.

"You're sick."

"Guess there's no way I can convince you otherwise?"

"No man." Sam laughed as he placed the thermometer back into Dean's ear, batting away an interfering hand from the pale man.

When the instrument beeped Dean looked up at Sam hopefully. His brother just shook his head, dejected, Dean lowered his back onto his knees.

After half an hour his temperature had fallen back to 102 and Sam had backed away to fuss with the coffee machine instead.

"We're not far from Grace you know, we could go and stay there so you can rest up."

"I'll be fine in a few days Sammy."

"No Dean, you're sick. You can barely stand and I can see you're shivering from here."

"You just want to go and get some mothering from Grace."

"And you don't?"

"It's not fair on her."

"What do you mean?"

"For us to turn up, me being sick. It's not fair. She might be busy."

"Dean come on man, she's gonna love looking after you."

Dean thought for a second, he felt crap. He knew he was sick. He knew Grace wasn't too far away. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. Get to see Nicki again, attention from Grace, a break from the job for a week or so. He began to nod in agreement then thought better of it as the ground shifted beneath him again.

"Yeah ok."

Sam practically leapt for the phone before Dean had finished speaking.

XXXXXXXXXX

Dean rolled onto his side again, he kicked the last of the covers off the bed and prayed he'd fall asleep soon. He just needed to sleep. Once he'd slept he was certain he'd feel completely better . It had been days since he'd slept properly. At first his stuffed nose had kept him awake, and then the aches had started. The little nap he'd had that morning in Sam's lap hadn't done anything for his energy levels. His eye lids felt heavy yet every time he closed them they popped right back open.

He was close to stapling them shut.

He turned his weary head toward the knock at the door, putting on his best smile as Grace entered carrying a tray of soup and some bread.

"You don't fool me Dean, the misery is coming off you in waves."

"Really? I was sure I had you fooled."

"Never boy." Laughed Grace as she sat by his left hip, setting the tray on the bedside table. "Come on scooch up."

Dean did as he was told and settled back against the headboard, relishing the cool touch of the wood against his back.

"Where's Sam?"

"He's making his way through a bacon sandwich and a glass of milk. I swear that boy is never full."

"It's because he's so tall, food never gets past his knees in order to fill up his belly."

"Oh yes! I guess that's it!" Grace laughed, shaking the bed slightly. Dean closed his eyes as the movement made him feel he was falling to the floor. He swallowed against the feeling and smiled again at Grace.

"Grace I'm really not hungry."

"I know baby, but you're not going to get better unless you eat something and build up your energy. Just try a little bit."

Dean looked at the bowl in front of him, took an offered piece of bread and dipped the edge into the soup. It did smell good. He took one tentative bite, the food reaching his belly and reminding it of how empty it was. He took another bite and another, Grace beaming at him as he finished the bread and took the spoon.

Halfway through the soup he felt his eyes begin to grow heavy again. His stomach felt full and satisfied and he had to admit he did feel better.

They both looked up as Sam knocked quietly and poked his head around the door.

"Hey, you ok man?"

"Yeah I'm good Sammy."

Grace took Dean's bowl and gathered the things onto the tray, she stood and made her way to the door.

"You full Sam or do you want me to make you something else?"

"I think I'm finally full Grace. Thank you."

"Well thank god for that honey, I thought I'd have to make another store run the way you were going."

"Too tall." Said Dean from the bed.

Grace turned toward Dean and winked, leaving Sam staring bewildered at his brother.

"So how you feeling man?"

"Yeah I'm ok, just tired."

"That soup was good wasn't it?"

"Was nice to have a home cooked meal for once."

Dean lowered himself back down onto the bed and rolled onto his right side. He felt a rush of air as Sam pulled the covers from the floor and pulled them up over his brother.

Within minutes Dean Winchester fell into a peaceful, content, sleep.

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I don't want you to think thats the end of Dean's sickness! Much more to come!

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! Love you all ! And to everyone who's read but tried to remain invisible...i know you're out there and i want to thank you for reading

btw: When re-watching certain scenes in Hunted , is there a point i should be worried that i'm becoming obsessed? No? Ah, good!