"Saaaaaaam. Saaaaaaamyyyyyyyy. Sam, come on, this is ridiculous now,"

Sam had slept for a solid twelve hours, and although Dean was glad his brother had got some rest, he was anxious for him to wake up soon. Mainly because Sam was still sleeping in the bath rub.

"Sam, I need a shower, really badly. Wake up. Please,"

When pleading didn't work, he knelt by the tub and guiltily shook his brother awake. Sam's eyes were still a colourful mix of purple and blue, but now a few dashes of yellow and green were still present too. The swelling had gone down a lot and the cuts on his hands were starting to knit slowly. From a night in a bath tub, Dean couldn't imagine how stiff Sam was, so he tried to be gentle as he slid his hands under his brother's frame and lifted his upper body upwards. Sam's eyes flickered quickly open, "Ah! Crap, my back,"

"Come on Sammy, out of the bath,"

Sam reared his head back to focus on Dean but seemed to be struggling. Dean watched his dark eyes attempt to catch him properly, a frown on his brother's forehead, teeth clenched from the stiffness lancing up and down his legs, arms and back.

"I fell asleep in the bath?...but I'm not wet,"

"Not in the bath, exactly, just the bath tub. Come on Sam, give me some help here,"

Sam stood, with Dean's assistance, on shaky legs and tried desperately to concentrate on his surroundings. When eventually he got out of the tub, Sam groaned and pulled himself away from Dean.

"I'm gonna be sick,"

Dean deposited Sam sharpish in front of the toilet and Sam experienced the unpleasant emptying of his stomach once again. Dean shook his head, wincing as Sam wretched.

"Sam, you've got nothing in your stomach to throw up. I'm going to get you some breakfast,"

Dean thought he was doing Sam a favour by giving him some alone time to get himself together. But Sam was too dead and tired in his hot head to care even if Dean had invited a hoard of Japanese tourists in to watch him be sick. By the time Dean had come back with a suitable breakfast, Sam had crawled back into his bed and made himself a comfortable nest out of the duvet and pillows.

Sam moaned gently in his sleep as Dean shuffled around with the grocery bags.

"S'alright Sammy. I'll use my fantastic cookery skills and make you breakfast,"

Sam moaned again. Dean wasn't sure whether it was because of the level of his voice or what his words were actually implying. 'Fantastic' and 'cookery' didn't go in the same sentence when it came to Dean.

An hour or so later Dean had experimented, broken some pots, and covered the tiny kitchen area of the room in plastic wrappers. He also had cream cheese on his cheek from making his own home-made breakfast creation.

"I think this is a good idea," Dean said, half to himself, and half to the mop of brown hair poking out from under the duvet/pillow mountain which was Sam, "Every time one of us is ill, we should make up our own food. None of that diner stuff,"

Dean assembled his two works of cookery genius on two plates, set one down on his bed and took the other to Sam.

"Breakfast, Sam,"

The bundle under the covers didn't move.

"Oh come on Sam, you've slept for twelve hours straight, you can't seriously still be asleep,"
It took him ten minutes but eventually he got Sam semi-conscious and upright. He stuffed some pillows behind Sam's back as his brother blinked furiously to get his vision clear, "I don't want any breakfast," he groaned, "I feel sick enough as it is,"

"Once you've even something you'll feel better, and a lot less nauseous,"

"Great,"

"This will stop you from feeling so sick. You've got nothing in you, that's why you're so tired and all limp and pathetic,"

"Does it also explain why I'm blind?" Sam grumbled, rubbing at his sore eyes. Dean smacked his hands away and balanced the plate on his lap.

"What is it?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Bagel. With butter, cos cream cheese would make you puke, and some salad and stuff,"

"And you made it?"

"Dude, quite sounding so surprised," Dean quipped, "And eat it,"

Sam raised his eyebrows and picked up the Dean-bagel creation. His hands were still nicked with painful cuts and the pads of his fingers were tender, but he managed his best grip on it and took a bite.

"You like it?" Dean asked, moving to his own plate which was a little more exciting than Sam's.

"It's nice," Sam said with a nod. The pain from his raw, tender throat was excruciating, making swallowing an enormous task, but he was determined to stop himself from throwing up.

"Nice? Is that it? Not…perfect, amazing, spectacular…"

Sam gave Dean a wry look, "Dean, it's a bagel. Once you start making soufflés, I'll start saying things like spectacular. Dean bit into his bagel, looking a little hurt but instantly sated by the satisfaction of food.

"I have to say," Dean said, shaking his head, "This doesn't fill me up like a fried breakfast from a diner,"

"It's also less likely to kill you," Sam observed croakily.

"Shut up college boy," Dean sighed, ripping another chunk from the bagel.

"You got any idea what it was?"

Sam was sat up in bed looking a little brighter. He'd had a shower, and his fever had lessened. He was starting to feel more human, except the flickering sting at the back of his eyes like bright light being flashed directly at him.

"No. None," Dean said, pen in his mouth, looking over part of his Dad's journal and despairing over his Dad's style of writing.

"What did it look like?"

"Built a lot like a human, but slits for eyes and a mouth. And lots of blonde hair,"

"A ghost?"

"No. I don't think so, anyway, it didn't look like it could resemble any human being,"

"And how come I didn't see it? 'Cos I saw the door smash, the lights flicker, the salt rings blow away. But nothing actually in the door,"

Dean shrugged, "Well we'll keep looking into it,"

Sam nodded, knowing that Dean had probably reached his limit research-wise for the day. Dean's idea of a good day wasn't to be hunched over books and a laptop, unlike Sam.

Sam's hands flickered up to his head in a short, sharp movement that was automatic and sudden. There was a pain in his temple that was screaming but no matter how hard he worked at it with his fingers it wouldn't fade.

"Dean, can I have a painkiller?"

"Sure,"

Dean got some quickly from the packet, along with the drink of water, and they appeared in front of Sam within seconds.

"Thanks,"

"Your head?"

"Yeah,"

Sam took the pills with the water but it took him a long time; swallowing with his raw throat was still difficult. He tilted his head back and lay still for a minute, wondering what the strange sensation he had was. A sort of foreboding feeling at the pit of his stomach, something very familiar but something his mind couldn't quite get a grasp on until…

Sam had thrown up his breakfast, and been sick a number of times after that. Dean tried to get him to eat toast but he refused, saying that he wanted to sleep instead. It was just after lunch and he was drifting off slowly. He'd taken what felt like every medication under the sun, and was slowly becoming numb and pulled under a dull blanket of sleep. His fever had gone up and Dean was worrying about the flushed look to his younger brother's skin. His cheeks were red and the skin over his glands was an angry red too, but there was something more worrying about his eyes. They'd look glassy and red, and Dean was worried about the condition of the water his brother had been lying in all that time…

As Sam slipped off to sleep, Dean sat next to him on the bed and attempted to cool him with water and cloth.

"Thinking of getting you one more present Sammy. I saw it the other day. Got enough money for it too. I think you might like it," Dean smirked, thinking of the late present he had in mind for Sam. Sam didn't respond, now fast asleep. Dean leant across him slowly, stretching to turn the light off at the switch between their beds. He strained, unable to reach it. When eventually he flicked it off, he realised there was something warm pinned to his chest. He looked down, confused.

Sam was fast asleep, the muscles around his eyes tight as though he were lightly squinting in his sleep, like looking into the sun. And his hands, hot from fever, were holding his shirt. He had been stretching over Sam to reach the light switch, and Sam had obviously been attracted by Dean's body heat in his fevered state. Dean moved as carefully as possible, not wanting to wake Sam up. He ended up lying on his side next to his brother, Sam's hands holding onto his shirt, lightly gripping to keep him close. Dean sighed, "This is very touching and all Sam but I can't lay like this all day…I can't even reach the remote,"

He made a vague attempt to grab the TV control but it was too far away. Sam didn't even murmur. The breeze from a small hole in the shattered door ruffled at the back of his hair, the light casting through the window making it look fluffy and downy, like a newborn bird's feathers. Being Sam's big brother, it felt physically wrong to disturb Sam when he looked like this.

Dean rolled his eyes and decided, for now, he wasn't going anywhere. He settled in next to Sam, and passed the time imagining him opening up the new present Dean had in store for him…

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay!! I have no excuse really, things have just been hectic. Anyway guys I want LOTS of reviews hehe and also I want some help with what Dean's next present might be. It want it to be jokey/ironic and something very Winchester-y, if you get my drift.

Thank you in advance!