Disclaimer : Mr. Kripke owned the Winchester boys and I'm just borrowing them for this fic, not for commercial gain of any sort.

a/n: I would like to express a heartfelt thanks for all readers who'd been sticking to this piece till now and thanks a lot more for the wonderful reviews. They really encouraged me to keep going (writing as 2nd language user in a 1st language fandom really freaks me out). Most readers wanted me to keep on torturing the boys and some preferred to let them have some break. I'll try my best to do both here (wink). Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 6

Sam woke with a start. He sprang upright and was hit by a severe vertigo. The world spun crazily around him and he had to hold on to the bed to keep steady. Bed? How the hell he ended up on a bed when he was puking in the bathroom a minute ago?

"Whoa! Easy there dude!"

Sam felt s strong hand grasping his shoulder and carefully guiding him back to lying on the bed. Drained of his reserve, Sam complied with the gentle manhandling. His mind was still a little fuzzy and he squinted hard against the oppressing light. Sighing wearily, he sled an arm across his eyes to shield them from the sickening assault.

"You okay in there?"

'What do you think? I just watched my brother pitching a deadly fit…I'm way from okay' Sam would like to express whatever he had in his mind now, instead he replied croakily "Yeah…"

Sam peeked under his arm and saw Kyle hovering over him, looking at him worriedly. He moaned slightly and brought his arm down; now realizing his hand – the one Dean bit into – was carefully dressed. Guess hunters could be professional MA after they retired later on.

"What happened?" Sam asked. His mind was as numb as how his body felt. The last thing he remembered was puking his guts out in the bathroom and then…well, that much he remembered. The rest went into the drain.

Sam gritted his teeth. There was a steady pounding slowly residing at the back of his eyes. His muscles hurt like they were pricked by millions of needles. His throat was sore and dry. His body was hot and scorching. Damn fever!

"You fainted on me man" Kyle wrung a washcloth dipped in cold water and put it on Sam's forehead; making the gangly man winced at the coldness. "And now…you're running up a fever". 'A high one that is'.

Sam hissed. The coldness of the wet cloth felt like bee stings against his burning skin. Knowing from experience, Sam didn't need to be told that he was running up a high fever. He and Dean had been sick for numbers of time before to know how a high fever would feel like. If nothing was to be done to lower the temperature it would not be long before he starts being delirious.

"I'll be okay" Sam murmured and blinked against the harsh light before deciding to close his lids. 'I have to be okay…Dean needs me'.

"Don't bullshit me dude…we practically dragged you to the bed when you were out then" Kyle rolled his eyes. Maybe they had not meet for years but Sam was just as stubborn as before when he was in Stanford. And being his roommate for 2 years, Kyle was the only person other than Jess to be able to tame Sam's stubbornness.

"And you were out for more than an hour now"

Suddenly realization hit Sam; it hit so bad Sam bolted upright and was punished by a severe headache. He clung to his head and groaned through pursed lips. Again, Kyle's hand slowly pushed him to the bed.

"Sam…" Kyle called out wearily. He retrieved the washcloth and put it back on Sam's forehead; cringing a little at the heat radiating from Sam's body as his hand brushed slightly against Sam's skin.

"Dean…how is he?" Sam was beginning to slur. His voice bobbed up and down as he swallowed dryly. If he was out that long, who was taking care of Dean?

"You take a look for yourself" Kyle said softly as he guided Sam shoulder so he would be lying on his side; facing Dean who was slumped on the next bed. "I thought you'd prefer being close to him"

After what he had seen the last hours, Kyle didn't want to risk having Sam pitching a fit when he found out he was nowhere close to Dean. Jack thought so too. So they decided to move the empty bed closer to Dean's and put Sam next to his brother before Jack and Matt went out to get some supplies for the broken men.

Sam getting sick was predictable. Not eating, not sleeping, not resting…none of them would end up with a happy ending. Adding to that, Sam was mentally exhausted from having to watch his brother's agony. So, a sickness was predictable. That was why he decided to follow Sam to the bathroom before.

Listing to his side, Sam sighed with relief when he saw Dean was steadily breathing on the bed next to him. His brother looked worn and fragile, sleeping like that. Dean looked like he had shed 10 pounds overnight; suddenly so small and thin. 'Dean…' Sam's lips trembled as he reached out and grasped Dean's hand. Dean's hand was cold against his warm one.

"Hey…he's okay" Kyle assured Sam with a gentle squeeze on his arm. "We fed him with the cure and since then he was sleeping, no pain attached" things had gotten a little better with Dean since the previous hour. Maybe the morphine was doing an effective job after all.

The oldest Winchester's fever had not yet broken but it hadn't spike higher either. But it would not be long before Dean gets dehydrated since they weren't able to get any liquid except for the cure into Dean's system for hours now. Everything they gave Dean while Sam was out, even ice chips, rolled out from his stomach in heaves.

So Jack decided they should visit the nearest clinic and 'borrow' some medical supplies; diazepam for Dean's spasm, IV drips, morphine, muscle relaxants – whatever they need to keep the brothers alive. He brought his youngest with him, leaving Kyle to attend the sick.

"I lost him once ya' know" Sam mumbled a little too indistinct. Kyle stooped forward, positioning his ear closer to Sam so he could hear him better.

"Come again?" Kyle asked.

"He died once…went to hell" Sam was fighting sleep.

Kyle was taken aback. He turned to Dean. The oldest Winchester didn't look dead to him; he was not much alive for the time being but he was not at all dead. His gaze returned to Sam, registering the blurry look upon the latter's face. Sam's lids were droopy and his feature was lax.

"I tried to retrieve him…failed though" Sam's voice now becoming distant as consciousness slowly ebbed away. "Can't lose him…" and his lids dropped, albeit lazily. Seconds passed and Sam started snoring softly in congested breathing and stuffy nose.

"You can tell me later" Kyle shook his head in defeat as he pulled up the cover over Sam's frame; tucking it under Sam's chin. He patted Sam's shoulder, hoping it could drag the Winchester away from whatever nightmare he was having in his slumber. He knew well no hunter's dreams were about sweet and candies.

Kyle sagged against the chair with a sigh. Taking care of the sick and wounded was never a fun thing to do and taking care of a sick and wounded stubborn best friend and best friend's older brother was much much worse. He glanced at his watch; it would take a couple of hours more before his father and brother should return with the supplies. He studied Sam; now sleeping restlessly with Dean's hand in his own, and sighed deeply.

"Dean, if you can hear me…you need to snap out of this" Kyle said as he reached out to tuck the edges of Dean's cover under him so that it would trap more heat. "Sam's reaching his limit…he needs you" he whispered and looked at Dean's face. Nothing stirred upon the man's feature. Not even a twitch. Kyle sighed for the umpteenth times.

'It could have been me' Kyle was lost in his monologue; his only mean to entertain himself while keeping the sick.

………………………………

Kyle didn't remember falling asleep but when he opened his eyes, there was Matt; hanging an IV drip on a makeshift hook. The drip went into an IV canula sticking to Dean's hand. He cleared his throat and managed to gain his brother's attention.

"About time you wake up princess" Matt teased him and he was not even looking at his older brother to know he was awake. "You fell asleep while on guard…dad's not gonna' like it" Matt was working fast and swift, yet there was tenderness in his every movement.

"Yeah? You try looking after two sick persons at a time" Kyle growled, not really happy with the fact that Matt had caught him sleeping in the most awkward manner.

"Been there done that" Matt rolled his eyes. Kyle was implying as if he had never taken care of a wounded father and older brother before. In fact, he did the nursing tasks most of the time. "Any of them comes around while we're out?" Matt looked at the brothers.

When he came in before Kyle was sprawled on the chair, snoring to the sky. Dean remained unconscious to the world and Sam was sleeping on his side, his hand clutching Dean's tightly. He basically had to pry Dean's hand away from Sam's to be able to put the IV canula on Dean and to fix the IV drips next to the older Winchester's bed. Prying Dean's hand away from Sam's was proven a tough job. Sam had such an iron grip on his brother causing Dean's hand to be barely bruised from the grip.

"Yeah…both of them did" Kyle tried stifling a yawn. "But none made sense"

"They were both running on a high fever…Sam was reaching 101 and Dean stayed at 104" Matt reported dutifully. He watched as his brother stood up on his feet and started stretching. Sleeping on a chair seemed to disagree with his body as Kyle's joins cracked and snapped when he flexed his muscle. "You're getting old dude"

Kyle frowned; too tired to fight back. "When did you come back?"

"Almost half an hour now" Matt resigned on the chair Kyle had just emptied. He was just as tired as Kyle was. Running around the house playing nurse and rushing to and back from the clinic were exhausting. Watching someone fighting to live on his own bed was not enthralling at all since it made his heart thumped viciously in his ribcage. The last time Dean had the seizures, he almost got a heart attack – well, not the real one but close.

"You look like crap" Kyle gave out an honest comment as he looked down to his little brother; now slumped to the chair like he was a part of it.

"You're not so hot either" Matt retorted and was replied with a snort.

"The two of you should go and have yourself cleaned and fed" the brusque voice coming from the open door made the brothers jumped slightly. Turning their head in sync to the door, Kyle and Matt grinned goofily towards their old man who returned the grins with a shake of his head. If he comes in a little later the boys would have started kicking each others' butt and picking at each others' leg.

"What about them?" Matt asked as he roused from the chair; staggering slightly from fatigue. His brother's firm hand was what keeping him from tumbling forward; he was thankful but still he swatted it away and pretended a groan.

"I'll keep watch" Jack offered and stepped into the room, giving way for his boys to get through the door.

"Are you sure dad?" Kyle asked. He had given his dad enough trouble for one day so he wasn't going to start giving him another one.

"Don't make me say it twice son" Jack replied grumpily. He knew his oldest felt guilty for bringing home a burden but he knew Kyle was not to be blamed for anything. Kyle did nothing wrong bringing home the Winchester boys. If Jack was in his place, he would have done the same thing.

"Yes sir" Kyle nodded in acceptance and started following his brother's trail out of the room. He gave the Winchesters one last look and pulled the door softly behind him, leaving it slightly ajar.

Jack watched his sons walked out of the room in silence then he studied Sam and Dean; both were oblivious in restless slumbers. When he sagged down on the chair Matt and Kyle had been best friends with before, his gaze was still firm on the boys' faces.

Putting both elbows on his knees, Jack rubbed his face tiredly. "John…you raised them up well" he muttered, followed by a weary sigh. "Sad but well" reaching out a hand, Jack carded Dean's hair between his slim fingers.

"Deannie boy" Jack called sadly as he rubbed a thumb on Dean's scorching forehead. The boy leaned into his touch. He couldn't help but smiled at the familiar gesture.

"You grew up well boy" he whispered quietly.

"Dad?" suddenly Dean shifted agitatedly. Jack held his breath; fearing he had disturbed the boy's sleep. He waited for Dean to fall asleep again but the boy showed no sign of returning to sleep. Dean kept on turning and tossing on the bed until he finally cracked his lids open. The look in the eyes however was cloudy and disoriented.

"Dad? Is it really you?" Dean asked through chapped lips; voice hoarse and croaky. He licked his lips and swallowed dryly.

Jack didn't know what to do. He kept quiet until he saw Dean was becoming more and more agitated. So he cleared his throat and imitated John's voice as best as he could and say "Yes son, it's me"

Dean stopped moving and he looked at Jack intently. Jack waited anxiously. Then Dean blinked, and he blinked too.

"You're old dad" Dean grinned stupidly. "Your hair's graying"

Jack shook his head amusedly. Dean was delirious. 'Probably because of the fever' he thought.

"You're not getting younger either boy" sounding like John was not very hard to do when you knew him like forever or when you were a father to a couple of stubborn ass sons.

"Yes sir…guess not" the oldest Winchester chuckled then winced painfully. His face scrunched in what seemed to be a pounding headache. Jack was much reminded of the past seeing the pained look on Dean's face.

"Hey…you okay son?" Jack squeezed Dean's ankle, circling a thumb on it soothingly.

"Yeah…peachy" Dean rubbed his eyes tiredly and Jack's heart sank.

Jack sighed. He knew he had just received a Winchester's motto, to hide the hurt and suck up the pain by saying 'I'm okay' or 'peachy' or 'I'm fine', from the lion's mouth itself. The motto was endorsed by John long ago, since John was a young boy. When they served for Uncle Sam during the war, John upheld the motto, assuring their comrades that he would always be capable of watching their backs. The motto was expected from John but Jack was awed at how he had successfully drilled it into his sons.

"Dad?" Dean called, suddenly sounding melancholic.

Jack braced himself for what was going to come out from the boy's mouth. Looking at how uneasy Dean seemed to be, he anticipated it to be something so private.

"Dad…I'm sorry for everything" Dean murmured through trembling lips. He looked pretty much like a five years old Dean; guilty as charged for causing mess at the dining table while feeding his baby brother.

"It's okay Dean" Jack knew John wouldn't deny Dean's confession. The John he knew would always listen first and act later when it came to attending his children's needs but then it would be the other way around when it involved anything supernatural.

Dean shook his head frantically. "No…no…not okay"

"Hey! Hey! Take it easy Dean" Jack feared too much movement would cause terrible outcome later.

"I failed you…I failed Sammy" Dean whimpered sadly. Tears started brimming at the corner of his eyes. He pulled his knees to his torso and hugged them tightly. "I'm no good to our family"

Jack felt his face hot. "No son…You and Sammy were the best thing that ever happened to me" he knew John would have said that if he had the chance. "I'm proud of you Deannie"

Dean snorted. "Deannie? Dad, you stopped calling me that since ages ago"

"Old habit dies hard son" Jack's lips curled into a tight smile.

"Don't call me that in front of Sammy…I'll be dead from his teasing" Dean giggled as he kept rubbing his droopy eyes. It was obvious he was fighting hard to keep awake. "Don't feel so good dad" his speech was slurring now, drifting along with his consciousness.

"Yeah I know…why don't you sleep and I'll wake you up later for spaghetti-O?" Jack patted Dean's blanketed thigh; lulling him to sleep.

"Your spaghetti-O sucks dad" Dean managed a teasing before he was completely outdone by drowsiness. He let fatigue and pain overtook him and drove him into another unusual slumber.

Jack heaved a deep breath and he pulled the cover – which was kicked to his feet in Dean's agitated attempt to rouse - up Dean's body. Brushing a calloused thumb to Dean's bony cheek, Jack sighed.

He and Dean might just have a normal father and son conversation in other people's eyes. But to them, it was far from normal. Dean was not thinking straight; he was hallucinating, and he didn't see well; which meant his system was still hazy from the invading poison. His speech was slurred and his strength was drowned in fatigue and pain. Not really a good sign.

Deep inside Jack knew the ordeal was not yet over. Dean still had a long way to go. The poison hadn't leave his body completely and still had the potential of wrecking Dean's system in the worst possible way.

"Deannie…"

……………………………………….

"Uncle Jackie"

Staying up late to watch the big game, Jack didn't remember what time he fell asleep on the couch. But he opened his eyes in slits when he felt slight tugs at his arm. The TV was on – no more game, just some silly commercials. Then there's the tug again.

Jack turned to his side, finding a five years old boy with blond hair staring up at him with bleary eyes. It startled him really. It was way past the boy's bedtime. Jack straightened against the couch and reached out a hand to rub the boy's head, Jack asked "What's up Deannie boy?"

"Sammy's not right" the boy – a five years old Winchester - mumbled through trembling lips.

Jack's heart sank. The boy barely reached five but he had responsibilities cast upon his shoulders; a responsibility forcefully entrusted on him the night he lost his mother, which he voluntarily accepted. When John sent the boys a week ago Dean stands rigidly by his father's side - green eyes looking up intently at him - he knew he'd have to deal with an over protective little big brother. A protective little brother he'd grown up to be from a playful and carefree Deannie Jack used to know. It tortured Jack to realize now Dean see him as a stranger - guess it would happen after the horrible bash he had to endure upon his mother's death - when all the time when Mary was alive, he was Dean's second father.

Knowing the Winchester's ego, Jack tried not to be dominant. He let Dean took the liberty in taking care of baby Sammy. He and Jenny let Dean decided what food they should feed baby Sammy with, how baby Sammy should be dressed up and what time baby Sammy should be put to bed. They let Dean be in charge of his baby Sammy. They even let them sleep together in the nursery.

And after a week, Dean started to take them as family again – no more strangers. He even treated baby Kyle as his own; playing with the babies and helping Jenny attending to them, whenever help was necessary Dean would always be there.

"What's wrong with him Deannie?" Deannie had always been what he called the boy since the day he was born. When he was one, Dean didn't seem to like the nick but he had his revenge by calling him Uncle Jackie. Both of them survived the nicks though cringing and flinching were here and there when they called each others' names.

"He cry and cry…don't stops" Dean started shedding tears, sobbing harshly. Jack gathered the boy in his arms and carried him upstairs; darting into the nursery and finding baby Sammy breathless from wailing out loud.

Seeing his baby brother had gotten worse, Dean practically sprang away from Jack's arms and dashed to Sammy's crib. He climbed into the crib and cradled his baby brother awkwardly; hushing and patting him in useless effort to put the baby back to sleep.

"I heard the baby's cry…what happened?" Jenny appeared at the door and was dressed in a nightgown; face hazy from sleepiness. She went into the nursery, tugging at the overcoat she managed to slip into before going out from the room.

"Not sure…Dean woke me up" Jack explained as he rushed to the crib. Dean was holding the wailing baby Sammy tightly on his lap. He reached a hand and when he saw Dean was willing for it, he picked Sammy up in his arms and did a round up. "I think he had diaper rash" Jack announced after he checked everything on the baby.

Jenny tied her hair in a ponytail as she took baby Sammy from Jack and put him on the changing counter. She started cleaning him, putting on some ointment and dressed the baby with a new diaper while Jack attempted to take Dean out from the crib.

"Can I sleeps wif Sammy?" Dean asked, flashing Jack a drenched puppy eyes – one Jack and Jenny couldn't resist falling into – and puckered his puny lips. "Pweasee?"

Jack sighed and smiled contently. "Yeah…okay, you'll be his guardian angel kay?"

"No angels…mommy said angels watched us, but they don't watches mommy…no angels" Dean shook his head frantically; anger laced his tone. Jack looked at Jenny and they exchanged glances. It was sad. At this young age, Dean had learnt to care for himself and baby Sammy; not believing in a higher power to look over for them.

"Okay Dean, here you go" Jenny placed baby Sammy into the crib. The baby had stopped crying and now was sleeping with slight sobs etched in his breath. She patted the baby once and brushed her hand through Dean's unruly bangs. "Then, you'll be his bodyguard okay?" Jenny hushed him quietly.

"Okay" Dean reclined to the bed, curling up close to baby Sammy. Giving his brother one last look and heaved a relieved breath, Dean closed his eyes tiredly. In less than a minute, Jenny and Jack heard soft snores emitting from the boy.

"A little too protective don't you think?" Jack was already standing by the door, holding it for Jenny. He watched as Jenny presented each of the boys a tender kiss on the forehead.

"Nah!" Jenny shook her head as she walked gracefully towards Jack. "He's going to grow up being the best big brother ever" she announced before sliding a slim arm around her husband's back and they closed the nursery door, giving the boys one last look.

"Yeah…" Jack couldn't agree more.

……………………………………….

Jack sighed, studying Dean's sleeping figure in wretched feelings. When he watched Dean grows up years back, Jack never thought Dean would grow up being a hunter too. By then, he saw the boy only as innocent little boy - as carefree and as playful as any normal kids would be. It hurt him so much to see what Dean have become after so many years.

Then Jack glanced at Sam. When he last held him, Sam was just a baby. Now look at how he had grown. The way the boys were sleeping now; facing each other, reminding him of the night little Dean had woke him up from his slumber because his baby brother cried from a nasty diaper rash. Then, Dean was bigger than Sammy and now, he looked so small compared to his brother. "Get well now Deannie boy"

"Please get well…for Sammy"

…………………………………………

Sam was floating.

He was floating high and high.

And he began to get scared of the height and started panicking.

He started kicking and punching. Nothing happened. Sam was still floating in the air; going up and up. Looking down, he saw nothing. There was nothing around him, nothing that could help him gets down and nothing that he could grab to hold on to.

"No!" he cried sadly. He needed to get back to Dean. He had to be by Dean's side. He shouldn't be anywhere but Dean's side. "Dean…" he whimpered and Sam was much reminded of himself when he was just three years old; when he fell on the tarmac and scrapped his knee while he was running to get to Dean.

Seeing Sam cried with a bloody knee, Dean turned around and came to him running breathlessly. Dean would pick him up into his arms and carried him home; all the while soothing Sam with encouraging words or hushing him with cooing sounds.

But now there was no Dean to pick him up, to tell him encouraging words or to soothe him with cooing sounds that Sam always thought were funny. Dean was dying and Sam was alone.

"Dean…" he whimpered sadly. If this was a dream, he wanted to wake up badly. And if he died in his sleep and this was heaven, he was not going in until he knew Dean is coming in with him. And if this was hell, he swore to God he would find a way to climb his way back to Dean.

"Dean!" he called and wondered whether it was the same way Dean had called his name when his big brother was down the pit before. "Dean!"

"Sammy…?" Sam heard a voice in the distant and immediately recognized it was Dean's.

"Dean?"

"Sammy...open your eyes bro" the voice was soft and weak. Still, Sam found he had stopped floating and now was slowly descending to the ground. "Yeah…that's it Sammy" Dean's voice was carefully guiding him to the ground. And when his feet touched the ground, Sam was pulled away from the space and was taken into a familiar sight. It was the room he'd been staying in to keep Dean company.

Sam flicked his lids open and saw Dean smiling at him from the other bed.

"Hey Sammy…"

TBC

a/n: Every updates tend to be longer now. Will it be okay? Or do you prefer the chapters to be shorter? I just couldn't stop when I started writing on the boys, geez! So, not much of tortures in this chapter, just limp Dean and Sam. I'm giving them a short break, then I'll start torturing them again. I'm evil! Hope you enjoyed reading. Next update's coming soon (Already started with chap 7, oh my).