The hand on his forehead was cold. Dean turned away from the touch, increasing the spinning in his head.
"You're pretty warm." Worried puppy dog eyes stared at him.
" 'm fine." He tried to straighten but his body had other plans. It felt like someone shoved a hot fire poker into his side. Dean groaned, doubling over.
"Dean." Panicked now. "Cut the crap, man. You're running a fever and are in obvious pain. You coming down with something?"
"Dunno. Maybe." Ragged gulps of air. "Side hurts like a bitch." Defeat.
Suddenly blinding white-hot pain tore through him and he screamed.
TBC….