Disclaimer: The Winchesters and Bobby Singer belonged to Mr. Kripke. No beneficial gain was intended when I decided to borrow them from him.

Chapter 7

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

"Hey Sammy…"

"Dean…?" Sam squinted hard to alleviate the pain hammering behind his eyes. But it didn't take too long; he needed to see Dean badly. He needed to make sure it was really Dean he saw not another figment of his distressed imagination. So he forced his lids open and…damn it, his eyeballs hurt so bad he felt like crying.

"You sleep like a baby dude"

Dean's voice was still too croaky and dry to Sam's liking and his color showed only a slight tinge of pink for anyone to tell whether he had started recovering or just too hardheaded to comply with his sickness.

"Look who's talking" Sam slurred. There was a big lump in his throat, making it hard for him to speak. "You okay?"

"I'm hot" and Sam couldn't tell whether it was literally true or just another sign of Dean's defense mechanism kicking in. "You however look like squashed orange" Dean licked his lips in a desperate need to wet his throat.

"You're gross"

"I'm starving"

And Sam couldn't help but held back a laugh and the desire to jump onto his brother. He wanted to hug him tight. He needed a physical contact badly he was practically reaching out a hand for Dean. But Sam knew better about Dean's no-chick-flick-moment thing so he retrieved his hand which hadn't really leaved his bed. Propping on his arms, Sam tried to get up; to get to Dean's side.

"What are you doin'?"

Dean's eyes widened seeing Sam's strenuous attempt to get up. He was becoming agitated himself. When he first woke up minutes ago and found Sam sleeping on the bed next to his; flushing with fever, soaking from sweat and jerking from nightmares, Dean was worried. So he started calling Sam's name, uncaring of his hoarse voice and sore throat. Now, he was more worried seeing Sam trying to leave his bed while his body seemed to disagree with the effort. "Sit tight Sammy!"

"Nn-need..to..get up" Sam's breath snagged and he was breaking sweat as he tried in vain to haul himself away from bed. Exploiting all the little strength he had left in his feeble body, Sam supported his gangly frame on one arm while he used the other to push the cover away.

"What do you need to get up for?"

Dean's question would sound irritated if his voice didn't betray him badly. He could see Sam's arm; the one propping his body, was shivering violently from the unnecessary weight it had to support. Dean wanted to reach for Sam; he needed to rouse and push Sam back to the bed but his body was numb from pain and morphine. His muscles had long turned to jelly, and he had no energy left in his body to even move a finger. And his head pounded as if there was a mini heavy metal drummer banging on it during his solo concert. Dean bit his lower lip, watching helplessly as Sam strived to leave the bed.

"Gotta…to look after…you" Sam's words were fading now and then, Dean could barely understand them anymore.

Dean's vision was blurry and his hearing buzzed from the lingering pain, but he didn't need to have clear vision and hearing to know Sam was losing himself to the sickness. He'd been his brother's keeper too long to identify the pain and the oblivion embedding Sam's slur. His big brother instinct told him Sam was agonizing and hurting; the same instinct that enabled him to differentiate each of baby Sammy's cries as the cry for food, cry for the need of a diaper change or simply a cry to gain his brother's attention. He knew a sick Sammy like the back of his hand though these days he thought he barely knew Sam anymore.

Dean's heart thumped rapidly in his chest when he saw Sam stumbled once as he tried moving one foot out of the bed. Dean could hear Sam panting for the effort. Once his breath caught, making Sam gasped for air; Dean cringed. Being in hell was torturing, but it tortured a lot more to know your brother was goddamn sick and you couldn't do anything to help.

"Sammy…stop it man" Dean called, almost pleading for his brother to stop. If only he had the strength, then he would scram to Sammy's side and tackle him back to bed. He knew pleading didn't work too well with Winchesters; especially not when you were the youngest and had your hardhead inherited from both hardheaded parents.

"Sammyy…!!" again Dean's voice betrayed him. He gave all his heart in that cry; hoping someone would hear him – that they would come and stop Sam from doing whatever he was doing, but what he thought a loud cry turned to be only a soft whimpering sound, audible only to him. Blood rushed harshly in his body; Dean was feeling hot all over.

Dean's heart skipped a beat when he saw Sam's supporting arm gave way, making Sam lost his balance and stumbled forward with his eyes rolling to the back of his skull. His little brother fell hard to the floor; face planted on the wooden planks.

"Sammy?" Dean called desperately. 'Come on Sammy'. Dean needed to hear something – Sam's voice saying 'I'm good' or 'I purposely fell down', then he would feel better. But Sam didn't even stir, much else to reply with a defensive tone. Sammy was totally out and Dean got more and more restless for being unable to see Sam. All he could see was one of Sam's lanky leg hanging limply on the side of the bed.

'Damn Sammy!' Dean hissed. His heart beat faster and his blood steamed. Adrenaline started flowing in his system and Dean's big brother instinct began kicking in. Where he got all the strength suddenly would be the question he'd later ponder, but now Dean needed to check on Sam. He moved his limbs, although hardly, and pushed himself up on his elbows. He gritted his teeth to suppress an involuntary groan from the pain piercing his abdomen. Hurling the cover away from his sweaty body and pulling the IV canula from his hand, Dean moved his legs out of the bed and basically lurched himself towards Sam's motionless form; uncaring about the blood dripping from the incision made by the canula.

Dean threw his body on Sam's back and reached frantically for Sam's neck to check for his pulse. He didn't know what Sam was coming down with; so he feared for the worst. When he felt the pulsating throbs of Sam's steady pulses, he sighed with relief. Dean buried his face into the crook of Sam's neck mumbling "You scared me shit bro" and cringed at the heat radiating from Sam's skin. 'So, he came down with a high fever' Dean grabbed Sam's wrist and rubbed it with his thumb in circling motions; a gesture to tell Sam he's not alone. When he had no more energy to continue the circling motion, he curled his fingers around Sam's wrist and waited.

…………………………………………………

Moments passed and Dean felt Sam stirred restlessly under him. Dean rolled over and listed to his side. Now both of them were a heap of mass on the floor. He cushioned his cheek with his arm and watched as Sam slowly came around; coughing and wheezing as he did. His brother turned to his side and Dean snorted amusedly seeing the saliva trickling from Sam's mouth.

"You're drooling all over Sammy" Dean was too tired to move, now that his adrenaline rush was gone. Exhaustion was overtaking him in cruel rapid waves.

"Dean?" Sam's eyes opened in slits, and he blinked incoherently at Dean. "What are you doing down?" he asked in between hacking coughs. Sam ran a weary hand over his face; scrubbing away the mess and drowsiness. His throat was raw and sore, and his nose was stuffy. His fuzzy mind was slowly clearing and he had just realized both he and Dean were lying on the floor; one of Dean's arms curled around him and the other was grasping his wrist tight.

"I'm saving you" Dean wriggled his brows weakly. Sweats were dripping off his bushy brows Dean had to blink a couple of times to clear his vision. His hands were numb from fatigue and he couldn't find the energy to move them around.

"So much of a rescue" Sam sniggered; rolling his eyes after he made a thorough observation on how they were positioned on the wooden floor. "Dude?! Are you hugging me?" even Sam was too tired to move. Instead of getting up, Sam opted to lie down on his stomach; letting his cold body being warmed by Dean's fevered one.

"Nope! I was steadying you" Dean replied nonchalantly. "You're shaking like a granny on a stick" he would always find a way to bat Sam's mockery off. Most of the time sarcasm was just a mean for him to hide his brotherly affection towards Sam while keeping his dignity as the stoic and heroic big brother.

"Yeah…right" Sam realized half of the shaking on his body was contributed by Dean's trembling figure. Some of them, yes, were his. But most of the shaking was Dean's. He was not going to push it. At least he gained what he toiled – fell down – for; physical contact with his jerk big brother.

Dean chuckled, much to Sam's annoyance. When Dean chuckled meant he got something naughty playing around in his corrupted mind. As much as he loathed Dean's stoic attitude – because it made him felt helpless - Sam was not in favor of his brother's definition of entertainment either. Fun to Dean was defined as getting laid, vanquishing evil, getting boozed in the best bar in town, indulging in pies, etc. But mostly fun to Dean meant making fun of Sam, or Sam making an idiot out of himself, or Sam falling into a lame trick, or Sam getting his butt kicked by demonic bitches; mostly Sam was Dean's definition of entertainment.

"What?" Sam's irate inquiry sounded like a whine instead.

"Granny Samantha" Dean smirked and laughed heartily. "It suits you perfectly…like Granny Betty or granny Annie"

"Try granny Deanna" Sam huffed; suppressing his own urge to laugh. He and Dean had a lot of good times before but after Dean's return from hell, their time were spent with picking up unnecessary teeth and nails fights, blaming each others' asses, and worrying about the fate of the world burdened on their shoulders rather than celebrating Dean coming back from the pit. However now Sam was amazed at how a simple word could trigger so much joy.

When his mocking gained no response, Sam studied Dean's face and he immediately recognized the look of pain drawn on his brother's feature. Dean was too hot to the touch yet he was trembling hard, his teeth chattered and his chin quivered. Flexing his wrist – the one Dean was holding like a lifeline -with years of trained flexibility, Sam took Dean's wrist in his hand and felt for the pulse. The pulses were rapid and disordered; pulsating in weird rhythm. Dean was not sweating anymore; an indication that he was already dehydrated.

"Dean, you're goddamn hot!" Sam declared and he felt his own heartbeat intensified tenfold.

"Thanks…you're so sweet" Dean's lips curled slightly.

"No moron! You're burning up!"

"Yeah…nothing new there" Dean raised his brows indignantly as if Sam was worrying for nothing. There was no change in his tone. It was still flat and calm. "Take it easy Sammy boy"

"Easy my ass" Sam was irritated by Dean's calmness.

Sam could see the familiar wall coming down around Dean. Dean was practicing his defense mechanism number 104 from his 'Big Brother Dean' manual; act cool when you're burning up though you're so hot you wanted to tear your skin apart. But Sam had his own manual – Sam's Survival Guide - to counter attack Dean's mechanism; attacking device number 21 – ignore your brother's cool act and start fussing over him right away. So, Sam started fussing over Dean by first pushing himself up in strenuous effort. His intention was to haul Dean back to bed, pull a cover over him, place a wet cloth on his forehead and get him to drink something.

However, the forces of gravity somehow were able to keep him from getting up. That was new. Usually he had no problem to get up – even after he was tossed a couple of times to the wall, or trees, or gravestones. Something burned in his lungs and the heat was running up his throat like larva erupting from a furious volcano. Sam ended coughing violently and he doubled over; clutching to his aching chest as he hacked his lungs out.

"I told you to take it easy Sammy" Dean groaned.

Dean got a big hardheaded ass for a little brother and he got himself to be blamed. Basically, he was Sam's caretaker. But maybe it was dad's fault. Yeah! Sammy got it from dad, definitely. Dealing with Sam's persistence had always been hard work and always Dean felt like strangling Sam or tying him up to the bed while he was sleeping for revenge. This was one of the moments he wished he could wrestle Sam and tie him up to the bedpost so he would keep quiet and let Dean had some peace for the day. "Now I need to save your sorry ass again"

Dean grunted tiredly before he pushed himself up – falling down a couple of times – and dragged his body towards Sam. Again he wondered where he got all the energy all of a sudden, when a little while ago he couldn't even move a finger. Thank God for giving big brothers extraordinary powers during less ordinary moments in dealing with super extraordinary pain-in-the-ass little brothers.

"Come on Sammy, work with me"

Dean resisted the urge to throw up as he put his hands under Sam's arms, pulled his overly big little brother up and leant Sam's back against his heaving chest. Sam was coughing and when he tried stifling it, he choked on his own saliva. Dean gagged and pursed his lips to avoid puking. Moving made him nauseous and Sam's condition didn't help much in easing the nausea. Sam's body pounded hard on Dean's chest when it rocked from coughing and God knew how it hurt Dean in the inside; literally and figuratively. It hurt him physically and it hurt even more to see Sam's suffering.

"Owh Sammy! You need to lay off the Lucky Charms"

Dean dragged both himself and Sam towards the wall. The journey seemed to be miles away as the weight he was carrying – he and Sam - got heavier each time he moved. When his bruised back met the solid form of the wall, Dean heaved a relieved breath. He leant heavily against it and propped Sam's back to his chest, tucked Sam's head under his chin and wrapped Sam's rocking body in his arms; securing his little brother in protective embrace – one thing he wouldn't even dream of giving if Sam was up and awake.

How long had it been since he last gave Sam a hug? He had hugged Sam when he returned from the dead but it felt awkward and he knew Sam felt it too. Dean was different and Sam was never the same anymore. But he knew the first time he had given Sam a hug so protective was the night their mother got stuck to the ceiling and was burnt with fire originated genuinely from hell.

When he was done, Dean was beat. To make it even worse, the pain in his stomach began to spike in unbelievable pace. He clenched his jaw and grinded his teeth in frantic attempt to contain the hurting. The throbbing at the back of his skull; which was a steady drumming during the last hour, intensified into heavy pounding. He buried his face on Sam's shaggy hair and moaned deeply. Dean hugged Sam tighter; using his brother as a medium to channel his pain.

…………………………………………

Dean moaned silently in his sleepless slumber. The pain in his tummy was so intense he wanted to cry badly. But he feared of waking Sammy from his sleep. He didn't want to wake Sam up and let his baby brother sees him like this; weak, limp and sick. Thus, Dean buried his face to the pillow and screamed into it; hoping the fluffiness of the pillow would muffle his agonizing cry.

It had been another normal days for the young Winchester – their time spent at some crappy old motel, Dean and Sam were alone to take care of each other when dad left for a hunt – except tonight Dean had a severe case of food poisoning from eating Sam's leftover from dinner two nights before. They ran out of ration and Dean had to cut off his share so Sam wouldn't end up starving for the night. Since then, he'd been consuming Sam's leftover behind his brother's back.

He had been puking his guts out for the last four hours and when he got nothing left in his tummy, he practically vomited dry air and saliva. Geez! His tummy hurt so much Dean wished dad was here. Dean curled into himself and whimpered. Coldness seeped into his muscles, making them stiff and sore.

Suddenly Dean felt a slight crease on his bedside and he cringed at the abrupt change of grounding level. He bit his lower lip to hold back the urge to moan. Too tired to turn onto his side, Dean waited for the familiar sense of comfort to emerge.

"Dean?"

"Sam-my" Dean slurred wearily. The scream he thought muffled by the pillow must have escaped and woke Sammy from his slumber. Damn motel for worn pillow!

"What 'appned?" Sam asked, worries etched in his voice as he laid a cooling hand on his brother's trembling shoulder.

"Nothing Sammy…go back to sleep" Dean couldn't afford making Sammy worries. Sammy was too small to even help let alone worrying about him. It was Dean's job to be worried, not Sam's.

"Dean…you sick" Sam announced and Dean would have rolled his eyes if he was not too sick.

"I'm okay Sammy…" Dean winced as he heard himself whined. As he contemplated on turning towards Sammy, Dean's bedside creased and he knew Sam had left his bedside; probably convinced by Dean's acting tough and he decided it was okay to leave Dean alone and went back to bed. Dean closed his eyes but cracked them open again when he sensed someone staring at him straight on his face. He jumped at seeing Sammy's face hovering over his; puppy eyes looking at him blearily.

"Dean…you look blue" Sammy reached out his tiny hand and cupped Dean's cheek in his tiny palm. Dean found much desired comfort in that touch and he couldn't help not to lean into it. Amazingly, the warmth of the touch had lessened the pain in his abdomen. "You colded Dean" Sammy was playing doctor as he put a hand on Dean's forehead as if checking for the temperature. Maybe he had seen dad doing it too many times before.

"It's the weather Sammy" Dean tried giving excuses.

Sammy puckered his lips and ignored Dean completely as he climbed onto Dean's bed and positioned himself in the curve between Dean's torso and knees. He lifted Dean's arm and put it around his small frame and he wrapped his little one around Dean. Snuggling deeper into his brother's middle section, Sam buried his face to Dean's torso.

"You feeled warm now?" Sam asked; voice muffled by Dean's shirt.

Dean pulled Sam closer to his torso; tightening his arm around Sam and buried his face onto his little brother's unkempt hair. "Yeah…" Dean replied softly as he secretly planted a kiss on Sam's head. Sam's gesture of love had blissfully healed Dean's excruciating pain and Dean was thankful for that. Somehow Sam had become his mean to channel the pain to something else. Sam was really a gift from God.

"Thanks Sammy" Dean muttered.

Dean and Sam cuddled in together until they fell asleep in each others' embrace and didn't wake up when dad came home early at dawn; smiling as he stood at the door, watching them while they were sleeping.

………………………………………

Sam opened his eyes when he felt something – or someone – was holding him a little too tight; making it difficult for him to pull air into his lungs. He chased the drowsiness away by blinking and shaking his head; only to find it hard to move his head because something heavy was pinning it down. Looking around, Sam came to realize he was leaning against Dean and it was Dean's head which kept his immobile. Dean's arms were hugging his chest tight; holding him tensely in a shaky but firm embrace. Behind him, Dean's chest was heaving up and down rapidly and God he could feel Dean's heart beating ferociously against his back.

"Dean? Were you kissing me?" Sam grinned stupidly. The embrace felt so good by the way. It had been long since Dean's embrace felt so good on him. Last time they hugged, Sam was contemplating whether it was really his brother he was hugging in his arms or just another demon taking in Dean's form. Dean was taking too long to return Sam a gruff reply and Sam's heart ticked.

"Dean?" Sam called as he tried to move his head so that he could take a look at Dean. But Dean's head was keeping his down firmly that he couldn't budge a muscle. When he tried to turn around, Dean's arms were keeping him still. Sam got restless. Something was definitely wrong with Dean and he didn't know what. "Dean?" Sam tried prying Dean's arm from his body but the hold was so tight, Sam couldn't even lift a finger from Dean's hand.

"Damn! Dean!" more desperate than ever, Sam struggled to slide away from Dean's embrace and found his attempt was useless. Dean had the iron grip on him; he used to get it upon waking up from the deathbed after Cold Oak. Sam was petrified when he heard Dean moaning silently into his hair. He could feel Dean's hot breath upon his scalp; making him sweats. Dean was going into another series of spasm; the third time in less than 24 hours. How much more could Dean take before he collapses? Sam didn't dare thinking about the possibilities.

"Let me go Dean!" Sam was struggling to get free from his brother's embrace; one thing he wouldn't do if Dean was not pitching a fit of seizure behind him. "Dean!!" Sam shouted irately when he felt Dean's muscles twitched and twisted under his skin. His brother's body arched violently behind him and the weight at the back of his head increased. Sam's tears rolled down his fever flushed cheek. Dean was agonizing and he was using Sam to keep him grounded. "Dean…" Sam whimpered as he felt Dean's arms around him stiffened; rocking both of them at the same time.

Sam felt helpless. He couldn't do anything. It was as if Dean had planned it beforehand; keep Sammy from seeing him writhed in pain. The way Dean was holding him Sam thought his brother was protecting him from the horrible sight of Dean fighting death. Dean knew Sam couldn't take it anymore watching him agonizing from the pain. Dean had figured it out; that Sam came down with a fever because he was reaching his limit, the end of the rope. Dean was his big brother after all. Big brothers know things that little brothers don't. Big brothers had sixth sense that little brothers were in awed with. Big brothers like Dean were the biggest dumbass ever for keeping the hurts to themselves and not sharing it with the little brothers like Sam.

Sam prayed for help. He hadn't done this in a long time but he was praying to God to help Dean; to lessen his pain. He was praying hard Sam had his eyes brimmed with tears. As if his prayers were answered, he felt Dean eased behind him. The muscle twitching and turning was gone, Dean's arms went limp around him and Dean's head lolled precariously onto the crook of his neck. "Dean?"

"Sam?"

Out of the blue, the door sprang open. Jack darted into the room, followed closely by Kyle and Matt. They were moving too close they almost tripped onto one another. The Callahans stood dumbfounded ahead of the Winchesters, now a heap of mass on the floor between the two beds.

"Oh God Sam!"

Jack was the first to be grounded again. He rushed to the boys' side and checked for their pulses; cursing himself for daring to leave the boys alone to release himself. Jack was on guard while his boys were getting themselves cleaned and fed. Seeing the Winchesters were oblivious in their slumber, he thought it'd be okay to leave them alone for a while; just to answer nature's call. And that was proven a stupid thing to do.

When he left them twenty minutes ago, both boys were sleeping on their beds, facing each other. Now, both of them were cuddling in each others' embrace; on the floor instead of on the beds. Sam was leaning against Dean who now was bleeding from the nose and shaking terribly in a restless comatose. The way the boys were positioned made Jack wondered whether he had really left them for twenty minutes or more. What was more troubling was the fact that neither of them heard the commotion going around in the room between the two brothers. It was Sam's holler of Dean's name that made them come running there. 'Damn!'. Maybe they were getting too comfortable with the boys condition that their mind was playing trick on them; muffling the boys' call for help or suffering from being heard. Jack sighed as he checked on Dean. It look like another series of spasm had set in while he was gone and by the look of fear in Sam's eyes, it was possible Dean came down with it while he was hugging Sam.

Jack looked at Kyle and Matt who were stunned as if their soul had left their bodies. Shaking his head wearily, Jack cleared his throat.

"Boys…help needed over here!" Jack turned commanding, making Kyle and Matt appeared a little too sudden beside him. Kyle and Matt didn't need to be told of what to do when they mechanically pried Sam away from Dean's protective embrace and hauled him to his feet. Matt helped Sam to his bed while Kyle assisted his father in carrying Dean to his.

After both of the Winchesters were back on their beds; Dean unconscious and Sam was everything but better, the Callahans stood ahead of them, watching in awe at the bond keeping the brothers together. Again, they watched as Sam quietly reached for his brother's hand and took it into his own, grasping to it tightly before he was drowned completely with fatigue.

Matt's breath caught as he witnessed the most horrible sight he ever saw; a bond of brotherhood so strong threatened by death. He looked at Dean, replacing the oldest Winchester with his older brother and cringed at the thought crossing his mind. Without warning, Matt dashed out of the room; leaving Kyle and Jack contemplating on what to do next.

Kyle watched his brother went out with a knowing look. Matt had always been the one with the most sensitive heart. Then he turned to Jack. His old man was punching on the keypad of his cell phone.

"Dad?" Kyle required further information.

"I'm calling for backup" Jack explained as he waited for the call to be picked up. The caller tone rang twice before it was picked up from the other end of the line. A gruff hello greeted him.

"Bobby?"

TBC

a/n: I decided to throw in Bobby, just to give a boost to the boys and the Callahans. Still it would be the Callahans taking all the responsibilities of caring for our boys. Thanks for reading this chapter and if you have the time, please kindly leave a review. Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed reading it cos' I know I was having fun writing this chapter. Evil me!