Siren's Song

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.

A/N: I want to thank you all for the wonderful reviews. They really keep me working on this. Also, again, I'm sorry this chapter's so short. The next one'll be longer.

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Sam blinked. "You're temp must be higher than I thought if you think I'm going to let you be the one they sing to, Dean. Cause I'm not going to."

"You really don't have much of a choice, Sam. I'm doing this, and that's it." Dean sat up, ignoring the throbbing pain that exploded behind his eyes.

"No, you're not. It would be the most irresponsible thing in the world if I let you do this. You're..."

"I'm what, Sam? More into girls than you? Yeah, pretty much, but that's a given."

"I wasn't going to say that, Dean."

"What were you gonna say?" He reached for a tissue and wiped his nose in a pained way, wishing that they were doing anything but fighting right now, but if Sam wanted to start something, he sure as hell wasn't going to let him get away with it without a fight, cold or no cold.

"I was going to say that you're sick, Dean. you can't be the bait because you're sick."

"Come here, Sam." Dean waved him over to the bed. "I'm sick, that's why I have to do it. I'm only gonna say this once in our whole lives, and you will not repeat it, okay." He waited for his brother to nod. "Right now, you're a lot stronger than me, you could kick my ass into next week if you really wanted to, and you're gonna need to hold me back, because I'm pretty sure they don't rent boats that have masts that you can tie me up to anymore. And if it was you doing the listening, you'd be in that water so fast I couldn't rescue you, got it?" Sam nodded, and Dean went on. "So you're gonna put in those earplugs, put on your headphones and listen to that pussy-ass girl music you call rock full blast, and you aren't gonna let me go, no matter how hard I fight you. I can't say I'm not gonna try to hurt you, either, just, don't let go, okay."

Sam sighed and flopped down on the bed next to his brother. "I won't let go, I promise. Now that we have this straightened out, what next?"

"Next we figure out exactly how long I have to listen to that crap before it'll work and how you're going to snap me out of it and still manage to steer the boat."

"Well, one of the myths say that a man named Orpheus went with Jason and the Argonauts, and saved them by playing his harp and singing a song more inspiring and beautiful that the song the Sirens could sing."

Dean raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "You really are a geek, aren't you? Besides, I really hate to break it to you, Sammy, but I've heard you sing. The only thing your voice would inspire people to do would be to drown themselves more quickly, just to get away from it."

"Oh, that's just plain mean, Dude." Sam faked a look of hurt. "Besides, I wasn't talking about me singing to you, I was thinking more along the lines of you bringing your..." he swallowed as if the next word pained him to say, "Walkman."

"The question is still how am I going to put it on? I'm not going to be thinking clearly, I'm sure."

"We'll think about it, okay." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mean time, you want anything to drink or eat?"

"No, I'm good. I'm thinking I might get some sleep or watch some TV. Maybe both."

Sam nodded. "Between those two choices, I'd say you should sleep. You aren't looking all that well." A small, worried frown puckered his forehead.

"I'll live." Dean settled down and flipped on the TV. "For background noise."

Sam rolled his eyes and snagged a book he'd brought in from the car. "Whatever you want."