AN: Big thanks to my beta Charmed who got this back to me so quick, you're a doll. Anyways I hope you enjoy, thought we needed a little big brother time so this is his chapter. I hope you enjoy my Dean torture as much as my Sam torture.

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Disclaimer: See chapter one

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It was day six in Sam's treatment and he was in between rounds of chemo, having survived the first three days of in hospital treatment and he was now waiting patiently for day eight, when he would be faced again with more chemo. But until then he had more pressing matters on his mind then how he was feeling.

Dean had missed all three days of in hospital treatment because his cold had manifested from a nasty head virus, to full blown chicken pox.

His older brothers body was covered in red blisters, some of them had started to crust over, but many of them were still red, raw and itching.

Sam had been the first to notice Dean scratching at his arm two days ago, immediately realizing what was going on, and what he had given to his brother, he ran to his father, panic in his eyes.

"Dean has the chicken pox" he blurted out, causing his father to jump into action. John knew that the Chicken pox were a serious threat for adults, and when he entered the living room and saw his oldest lying motionless on the couch, his heart skipped a beat.

The two standing Winchester men ran over to Dean, scooping him off the couch. A deeper worry set into John as his usually stubborn son didn't say a word, didn't protest, didn't complain, his pale face only coming to rest on his shoulder. "Come on Dean" John muttered quietly, not wanting Sam to hear the worry in his voice.

The only words that came from the ailing older brother's mouth was when Sam stepped up and put his arm around his older brothers shoulder, "No Sam, go, not you, could get you sick."

Deans head lolled from side to side as he tried to make eye contact with his younger brother.

"Shut it Dean" was all Sam said as he helped carry his older brother, never loosing his tight grip.

But that was two days ago, and over the course of the next two days the rash had gotten worse, but the doctor had said that there was nothing they could really do except let the virus run its course, and if Dean's fever got worse or any other symptoms came up, then to go to the hospital, but in the mean time keep Dean as comfortable as possible,

That was exactly what Sam had been doing, whether it be giving Dean Tylenol to control the fever, aches and pains, or whether it was making sure his older brother didn't itch, Sam was there.

"Come on Dean let's go" Sam urged as he sat his fatigued brother up off the couch, causing Dean to groan in protest.

"What? Sam where are we going?"

"Its bath time Dean" Sam laughed as he looked at the horror on his brothers face.

"You're kidding…right?"

"Nope. No joke" Sam said smiling as he led his brother down the hall and into the washroom.

"Kay, strip" Sam said nonchalantly causing his brother to look at him in horror.

"What?! Sam… NO"

"Jesus Dean you don't have anything I don't, just go down to your boxers"

"Turn around" Dean said, his face flushing from embarrassment; he didn't want his brother to see his sore filled body.

"What?" Sam couldn't believe it, it wasn't like he hadn't seen his brother in boxers before, but Dean didn't seem to be budging on his decision.

"Fine" Sam huffed as he turned around and closed his eyes. He stood listening to his brother struggle with his clothes, wanting desperately to turn around and help.

"Just let me help" he finally said as he made to turn around, his actions stopped at Dean's cry.

"I'm fine, I can do it" the older Winchester half yelled in frustration.

Sam sighed at his brother's stubborn attitude, as he was once again left to listen to his brother's struggles. It seemed to go on forever before he finally heard the sound of the toilet seat creak as his brother sat and the sounds of struggling stopped. Turning slowly Sam was met with the tired, red-rimmed eyes of his brother who still donned his gray t-shirt.

"I can't fucking get it off" Dean said, his voice cracking while Sams heart broke as he walked over to the toilet seat.

Dean lifted his arms, as Sam tugged the shirt carefully over his head, careful to not irritate any of the sores on his brother's face.

Dean's vision flashed back to when they were kids and how he was the one who would help Sam with his shirt, it had never been the other way around.

Dean groaned as his joints cried out in flashes of pain as Sam helped him stand up once more, walking him over to the bathtub.

"What the hell is that?" Dean asked, his eyebrows raised, his gaze focused on the particles that seemed to be floating around in the water.

"Its oatmeal, it will help with the itching."

"I'm not getting in"

"Dean…"

"Fine" the elder Winchester relented as he struggled to lift his feet, not ignoring the fact that his cancer stricken brother was helping him into the small tub.

That was eating away at him more than the sores that covered his pale skin. He hated how Sam was taking care of him, it wasn't supposed to be like this, his brother was supposed to have to take care of only one person, and that person wasn't Dean. And even though he would never admit it, he had never felt so ashamed and embarrassed that his close to death little brother was taking care of him, bathing him, feeding him, it should be the other way around, 'Don't think like that' he scolded himself, 'Sam is not close to death'

Dean's thoughts lingered from his embarrassment and shame to the fact that he had used Sam and death in the same sentence. He couldn't believe he had put those two words together.

So he sat in the tub stewing in the oatmeal oblivious to his younger brother watching him, only tearing away from the torture of his own mind when Sam placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, I won't make you suffer in this stuff any longer" he said as he moved to get a stronger grip under Deans arms.

The older Winchester tried to find his feet under him but he couldn't, they slipped on the tub, causing Sam to groan under his weight, and for both boys to fall forward slightly. Out of breath Sam put his grip back under his brother's shoulders, his body protesting to the actions, not ready to lift all of Dean's weight, as he felt his brother try and lift himself once again, to no avail.

"Sam, Stop, Stop, you're going to hurt yourself" Dean said in defeat as he relaxed and sat back down.

"Go get dad"

"Dean" Sam said surprised, not believing his brother's own words.

"Go Sam"

Sam sighed, frustrated at his inability to help his brother, but knowing his body couldn't handle lifting his brother from the tub. He relented and walked to get his dad, limping slightly once out of his brother's sight, his joint pain was starting to flare up in between the treatments and lifting Dean hadn't helped it.

John sat in the small kitchen going over the new stats he had been sent from Jim about the demon, nothing had changed, the demon had been quiet for months now, and the information laid out before him showed no change.

"Dad" Sam interrupted his father's train of thought; breaking Johns gaze from the papers and bringing them up to his ailing son.

"I need some help getting Dean out of the tub"

John just nodded, following his son out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the bathroom, John knew it had to be bad if Sam had to come and ask him for help, it wasn't very often his boys came to him for help of this kind.

John hid the look of surprise when he walked into the washroom, his oldest sat, rash covered in the small tub, his head down, likely embarrassed that he needed help, especially from his father.

"Hey big guy, still itching?" John said trying to engage Dean, to break the ice, knowing his son was embarrassed and ashamed of his weakness.

"Yeah, not as much though, the bath helped"

"Well you can thank Sam for that one" John said as he reached down, stopping as his eyes grazed over the water, "What the hell is in the water?"

Dean couldn't help but laugh at his father's question.

"Its oatmeal, it helps with the itching" Sam cried out, smiling at his brother and father's disgust.

"Yeah… you know Sammy, I'm starting to think your just trying to see how far I'll go to stop the itching, but I'm drawing the line at a tub full of pudding, unless I have some female companions accompanying me" Dean replied, grunting as his father lifted him.

John just laughed; his sons' bantering had been a common occurrence when they were growing up. Sammy had always been the one to look up home remedies whenever one of them was sick, and it was good to see that hadn't changed even though Sam was so ill.

As soon as Dean had emerged and John had placed him on the toilet seat, Sam was right their placing a towel over his brothers shivering shoulders.

John took it as his time to leave as Sam brought out the Calamine Lotion, he was never very good at taking care of his boys when they were sick, and his heart broke at that notion. Ever since Sam and Dean were young they took care of each other, always looked out for each other, taken over the responsibilities that John was supposed to have as a parent. And as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't mind, cause as much as he loved his boys he was never very good at the comforting while sick part, but Sam and Dean had mastered it.

The two Winchesters didn't even notice as their father walked quietly out of the washroom, Sam had started to apply the calamine lotion and Dean didn't have the strength to take in what was going on around him. His only focus was to keep sitting up straight, to not fall over, it had become a mantra in his mind, 'Don't pass out, don't pass out'.

But as time continued on, and he was left sitting up on the toilet seat waiting for Sam to finish it was becoming harder and harder, something the older brother wasn't used to. Sure Dean had had colds before, but none of them had ever had such a strong effect on his body, completely immobilizing him, making him weak and useless, so much so that he didn't even care that Sam had started to hold his wavering frame up straight.

"So I'll turn around while you get dressed?" Sam questioned, never removing his steadying hand on Deans back.

"Jesus Christ Sam, just help me put my t-shirt on."

Sam smiled in triumph as he reached down and grabbed Dean's shirt, while his brother busied himself with his bottoms, knowing his brothers attitude Sam faced the other way, making it seem he was busy until Dean was finished and back into sweat pants.

Once Dean was completely dressed Sam resumed his position behind his brother as he helped him back up to his unsteady legs, ready for the long walk back to the couch.

It seemed like forever before Dean felt the comfort of the couch once again, sighing as he relaxed back into the groove he had created, and his eyes started to shut. Only to open once again to Sams quiet voice.

"Wait, before you go to sleep"

Dean looked up to a pair of mitts Sam had in his hands, groaning inwardly the older brother put his hands in the air as his younger brother put the mitts on his hands.

"To stop you from itching" Sam explained once the gloves were on.

Dean just nodded, watching as his little brother put the gloves on, his admiration for him growing, he wouldn't' know what to do without Sam. His thoughts darkened as he was brought back to the dream he had had just a few days ago. Dean had dismissed the dream and the woman as a result of his fever. But now, as Sam stood in front of him, taking care of him even though he was in much more pain than Dean, he couldn't help but feel the pain of losing his brother eating away at his soul.

Dean would do anything to help his brother, would do anything to keep Sam around, and the dream was not a dream at all, but Deans worst nightmare, a nightmare that had felt all to familiar at the same time.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you have anymore of those dreams while at the hospital? You know the one you told me about."

"About me dieing?"

Dean swallowed hard; he didn't like to hear Sam talk about himself dieing.

"Yeah"

Sam's stomach sank as he thought of the dream, "No, I didn't have one this round" he said as he occupied himself with Dean's blankets.

"Yeah me either" Dean replied, his heart skipping a beat as he realized his screw up, 'must be the fever, making me slow' he thought to himself, hoping Sam wouldn't pick up on his slip of words, but he knew his brother wouldn't let something like that get by as he stopped looking at Dean's blankets and looked up at Dean.

"What do you mean you either? You've had one before?"

Dean was speechless, but only for a second as his mind kicked back in.

"Yeah well you know, your dreams are my dreams" Dean shifted his eyes, knowing his brother wasn't buying it, thinking quick again he opened his mouth and let out a yawn.

"Sam? You think you can get me some ice my chest is really sore" Dean said, as a lame try to get his brother to hopefully drop the subject. He wasn't sure it was going to work as Sam stood still, his eyes never leaving Dean's. Dean yawned once again, causing Sam to sigh and leave the room for the ice. Grateful for his brother's exit Dean quickly shut his eyes, hoping to feign sleep to cement the end of the conversation.

Of course Sam knew his brother wasn't asleep, knew that he was just trying to end the conversation, and on any other day Sam would have woken him up and continued on. But he also knew that his older brother was in no shape for a serious conversation, and would probably benefit more from a good few hours of sleep.

So the younger Winchester gave in, pulling the blankets down and putting the ice pack on Dean's chest, having no doubts that his brother's chest was indeed sore from the itching and sores from the rash. Replacing the blankets Sam watched as his brother's breath evened out, his body succumbing to the sleep he was trying to fake, causing Sam to sigh.

Sam couldn't help but stare at his older brother, having never seen Dean so weak before, it was something he wasn't use to, something he never wanted to be used to.

Sam knew he was a stubborn person, never wanting to accept help from people, but when it was help coming from his brother, it was a different story. Dean was his rock, the one who took care of him, and even though it was nice to have their father around Sam wouldn't give Dean up for anything.

"I hope you didn't have the same dream as I did" Sam whispered, his brother's words becoming clear as he remembered his last dream. The fact that the dream was in the present day should have set Sam wondering, and the way Dean reacted. It broke Sams heart just to think of his brother's sobbing wails, he never wanted his brother to have to go through his death, and just the fact that Dean went through the dream was worse enough.

AN: Hope you enjoyed… good news, I am currently working on the rough draft of the next chapter so hopefully it won't take so long to put up. But thanks for sticking with the story, and if you have time review let me know what you think, but if not, I'm just glad your still reading!

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