A/N Thanks for the amazing reviews, you keep me writing. So here is another chapter for you, hope you like and tell me what you think! This is totally un-beta'd so all mistakes are mine. If anyone wants to help me out in the beta department I would be very grateful :D
After finally being told that Sam was no longer contagious and that he was allowed to see Sam, Dean had wasted no time in making his way up to the ICU. Sam's doctor had been keeping him updated, they had started Sam on antibiotics but his fever was showing no sign of relenting.
It had been sheer torture thinking of Sam, hurting, sick and alone and that he could only sit there. He hadn't even been able to see his brother and comfort him, Sam had been alone.
The elevator pinged and the doors slid open and Dean quickly ducked out of them and looked around, trying to find the ICU desk. He needed to find Sam and let him know he wasn't alone in this, that he hadn't abandoned him…
…For a second time. God how could he have left Sam?
He rounded the corner and came to the desk where two nurses were sitting and strode over.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for my brother's room. His name is Sam…Morris." He said struggling to remember the name on the fake insurance. The nurse frowned at him slightly before glancing down at a chart on the desk.
"He's in room 6." She said and Dean nodded before walking purposefully down the corridor.
As he came to the door he stopped, stomach churning. He pushed open the heavy door with clammy hands and stepped inside.
Sam was lying in the bed in the middle suddenly looking incredibly small and young. His face was as white as paper other than the pink flush in his cheeks from the fever. He had several IVs running from each hand and monitors beeped and buzzed from next to the bed.
Sam looked sick, really sick.
Swallowing hard, trying to ignore the painful lump that had taken residence in his throat, Dean walked over to the bed and pulled up the chair next to it.
"Shit Sam." He breathed as he took his brother's limp hand in his.
Sam didn't stir from his sleep. Dean stared at his brother's impassive face and sighed shakily. He needed Sam to be okay. Meningitis, this was serious. This wasn't something Dean could fix with a few stitches, antiseptic and some Tylenol.
Dean couldn't help his brother and that was the thing tearing him up.
He heard a small groan and sharply looked up, his neck clicking.
"Sam?" He asked softly and received another moan in response. Sam shifted his head slightly and frowned before slowly lifting a heavy eyelid.
As Sam opened his eyes he immediately regretted it as the light seemed to burn his retinas. Squinting against the blinding lights he felt his head pounding and his neck throbbing in agony. He swallowed with difficulty, his raw throat protesting with the movement.
"Dean." He whispered.
"I'm here Sammy. You're okay." Dean said softly, smiling at his brother but unable to ignore the glazed look in his eyes and the pain etched across his features.
"Dean…what…what's wrong with me?" Sam asked brokenly, his voice cracking as he tried to ride out the agonizing pain in his head and his back.
Dean swallowed hard, blinking quickly and looking down at his hands uncertainly before meeting his brother's sleepy gaze.
"You're really sick Sam. You have Bacterial Meningitis…but the doctors are gonna make you better. You're gonna be okay" Dean said lowly and Sam looked away, eyes shining.
Dean felt himself floundering. He didn't know what to do. What could he say to make this better? His brother was hurting and he was just sitting here.
"Meningitis?" Sam finally questioned, voice rasping.
Dean bobbed his head in response.
"Typical, you manage to survive werewolves, poltergeists, vampires and even Dad but you get taken out by a negligent cafeteria worker." Dean said with a small smile. The weak chuckle he received in response was like music to his ears.
The pair fell silent again and Sam shifted in his bed, wincing and biting back a gasp from the pain in his back.
"Where is Dad?" Sam questioned, his voice just above a whisper as he looked down at his lap.
"I couldn't get a hold of him." Dean replied suddenly feeling a surge of anger towards his father as Sam looked away, a flicker of hurt passing across his face before disappearing.
He lay back against his pillows, his heavy eyelids begging to be closed but he didn't want to sleep. He wanted Dean.
He hated this. His head was aching relentlessly, his neck hurt, his back felt like it was going to snap and his stomach was still churning with nausea. He felt heat reach his eyes and he blinked quickly but it wouldn't disappear. The burning spread and his vision was clouded as he blinked again and a single tear rolled slowly down his flushed cheeks.
"Dean…can we go home? Please? I'll get better, please…" Sam begged brokenly, several more tears spilling down his cheeks as he turned wet eyes to his brother.
Dean felt his heart lurch as he squeezed Sam's hand and desperately fought to keep everything together.
"Kid…" Dean said, his green eyes darkening with worry. "You're too sick…I'm sorry Sammy."
Sam nodded and swiped the tears away with trembling hands.
"I'm tired…I'm going to sleep now." He whispered shakily, turning away from Dean and closing his eyes.
Dean watched as Sam turned his back to him and sighed, trying to keep the tremble from his voice.
"I'm sorry kid I am." He whispered but Sam said nothing.
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Dean's eyes snapped open and he looked from side to side, disorientated before he realized where he was. He sat up and saw Sam still sleeping. He must have fallen asleep.
He looked up and saw that someone had changed Sam's IVs. Jeez he must be getting rusty, he didn't even wake up and Dean was a very light sleeper, he had been trained to be.
Yawning, and stretching his arms he glanced at his watch. 6 am. It was Saturday. He leant over and placed a hand gently on Sam's forehead and grimaced when he found it still burning hot.
His fever wasn't going down.
He scrubbed a hand roughly over his head and thought about going to get some coffee but he didn't want to leave Sam's side. Not when he was this sick.
He looked worse. Dark circles had settled around his eyes and sweat shimmered on his flushed face but Dean could see shivers wracking the boy's body as he slept.
Why Sam? Why couldn't have been someone else, a bad person. Sam didn't deserve this.
"D..d..Dean." Sam stammered out brokenly and Dean was immediately at his side.
Something was wrong.
He saw Sam's foot and hand twitch and Sam's face contorted in pain.
"Sammy!"
Sam groaned and fisted his hands in the blankets. He clenched his teeth hard and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as Dean stood there, fear gripping him as his brother jerked and began to seize.
"SAM! Somebody help!" He yelled, pressing the call button repeatedly as doctors spilled into the room.
"Help him." He cried desperately as they surrounded the bed and he was pushed away.
Standing on the outside of the crowd he interlocked his fingers behind his head and watched as they worked on his brother, hardly able to keep the tears from building in his eyes.
"What's wrong with him?" He asked desperately. No one answered him but a nurse came up to him smiling sympathetically.
"Give the doctors room to work, wait outside and someone will come and tell you what's happening when we stabilize your brother." The nurse said kindly but Dean couldn't take his eyes from his brother's jerking body.
He nodded numbly and allowed himself to be led from the room, watching Sammy all the way until the door closed in his face and he was left alone.
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About twenty minutes later the door to Sam's room opened and Dean shot to his feet. Twenty minutes had felt like a lifetime as he sat there, thinking about all the things that could be wrong with his brother and hoping everything would be okay.
"Is he okay? What happened?" Dean asked quickly, worry evident in his voice and expression.
The doctor sighed and shifted his glasses further up his nose.
"Sam experienced a febrile seizure because his fever is increasing and the antibiotics aren't helping to lower it. We're going to start him on a new, stronger course of antibiotics and hope that they lower his fever and fight the infection."
Dean swallowed and nodded mutely.
"What happens if you can't get his fever down?" Dean asked almost not wanting to hear the answer in case that turned out to the reality he had to face.
The doctor paused before answering.
"If the fever continues to rise it will cause pressure on the brain which can lead to brain damage and organ failure but it's very unlikely that it will lead to that. We're working as hard as we can to fight this infection and we still have a lot of options. These new antibiotics should help." The doctor said offering a reassuring smile which Dean tried to return but he was sure it came out as more of a grimace.
"Can I see him?" Dean asked.
"Yes but we're going to take him for a CT scan soon just to check there is no damage from the seizure. Just to warn you there may be some slurring but if you notice anything else don't hesitate to call someone." The doctor said, gesturing towards the door and allowing Dean to walk through.
"Thanks." He said and the doctor nodded.
The doctor disappeared around the corner and Dean sighed tiredly. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He couldn't get the image of Sam twitching and jerking out of his head.
He slowly opened the door and entered the room.
Sam was sleeping. He looked even smaller against the hospital blankets, he didn't look his 14 years.
Dean took his place back at Sam's bedside and stared at his sleeping brother.
"Jesus Sammy…"He whispered whilst Sam slept on, oblivious.
Dean picked at a rip in the knee of his jeans and absently pulled at the frayed strands shooting from the sides of the hole.
"You can't keep scaring me like this kiddo…" He said softly.
He found himself brushing Sam's overly long bangs away from his eyes, something he rarely did, not since Sammy was little.
Winchester genes and masculine pride prevented it from saying often but he loved his brother. He had sworn he would protect him but here he was, sitting here completely helpless whilst Sam just got sicker.
He may be 18 and he may have had to practically raise his brother but that didn't mean he could do this by himself. He needed someone, he needed his Dad. He would know what to do. He always knew what to do.
Sam shifted slightly in his sleep and a flash of pain flitted across his sleeping face before it sank back into impassiveness.
Dean wasn't going to leave his brother's side. He was going to watch over him, keep him safe and they were going to get through this. The alternative wasn't worth thinking about.
A/N So what did you think? Sorry if it was a bit short. Drama coming up and Daddy Issues! Yay