Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters.
Sam is ten, Dean is fourteen.
Dean was laying wide awake, listening to the sound of the rain hit the roof of their makeshift shelter and watching Sammy sleep. He felt horrible-he couldn't stop coughing, and sleep was evading him. It was a mixture of the cold, the sound of the rain, and his own illness. The shelter didn't have walls-it was just a tarp, held up by four branches stuck in the mud.
He checked his watch-it was four thirty in the morning. In half an hour, he would wake Sammy up. He wondered what they would be doing today-John never told them what their tasks would be until they had to do them.
Dean realized that this was a messed up situation; it was probably considered child abuse, or neglect, or some other trumphed-up charge. But Dean knew that his father did this for his own good.
He decided that he was going to give up on sleep for the night. He crawled out from the shelter and into the woods to use the bathroom. He walked pretty far out for some privacy. As he finished, he began to cough. And cough. And cough.
Dean couldn't breathe. He was suffocating-he tried to take a breath, but couldn't. He thought he was about to pass out-but then, he threw up.
"Shit," Dean mumbled, shivering. He felt like crap; his eyelids felt like sandpaper, and the taste in his mouth was horrible. But he couldn't quit; that would disappoint his dad, and he didn't have the stomach to do it.
So he sucked it up, stopped shaking, and walked back to camp. He checked his watch-it was five in the morning. He began to prepare a fire, because it was cold and he didn't want Sammy getting sick. Then, he reached into his backpack and pulled out two MREs-today, they would be eating Egg-McMuffin flavored goop, and he would be drinking instant coffee.
By then, it was about five-thirty, so Dean went to retrieve Sammy. As he crawled into thier makeshift tents, he notice a piece of pper on the ground He picked it up; it was a note from his father. He was certain it hadn't been there before-which meant he was probably about to get chewed out for leaving Sammy alone for two minutes.
Dean,
You kept up a good pace at the beginning of your run yesterday, but the last five m iles were too slow. I had hoped you would push Sam to put a little more effort into training, but I geuss I was wrong. Speaking of Sam-you left him alone for a long time this morning, dead asleep. I realize you can't always bring him with you, but you should have woken him up if you knew you were going to be a while. He could have been killed, or kidnapped. I expected more out of you.
But we'll talk about that later. Today, you're hiking four miles northwest. with sandpacks. Yours weighs fourty pounds, Sam's is twenty. You'll end up at a river, and you're going to swim across. Do what you need to do to keep your things dry. After you get out of the river, you'll be running for three miles until you hit the campsite I've marked for you. You'll have to set it up on your own-let Sam do the shelter, while you set the fire. Dry your stuff by the fire and spar for a couple hours. Make sure that Sam isn't up after ten-you'll have to be well rested for tomorrow.
Today is an easy day; take advantage of it. Rest up. The day after tomorrow is going to be difficult.
Dad
After he had finished reading the note, Dean bowed his head in disappointment. He could never please Dad. Deep down, he was annoyed-why was he always responsible for Sam's mistakes?
But Dad was right. Dean should have pushed Sam harder, but he didn't. All he could do was not make the same mistake twice. So he plastered a smile on his face and walked into the shelter, where Sammy was still dead asleep.
"Rise n' shine, Sammy!" Dean announced, grinning. Sam's eyes slowly opened, and he looked up at his brother.
"Dean, you look like shit," Sam mumbled, sitting up. "Did you sleep at all?"
"Course I did," Dean lied, walking over to the fire. "I just couldn't sleep through your snoring."
"I don't snore!" Sam exclaimed, incredulous. "You're a liar."
"Sure I am," Dean chuckled, pulling out two MREs. Today's meal was egg-flavored goop with sausage-like slivers. "Now come eat. We have to hit the road soon."
SUPERNATURAL
After a quick meal-Dean was hardly able to choke any of it down-Sam and Dean had packed up and started walking. It was slow going-the sandpacks were heavy. Dean was strong, but he was skinny-he weighed only 110 pounds, but it was pure muscle.
"Dean, this hurts," Sammy complained. "It's digging into my shoulder."
Dean looked back at his little brother. The straps of his backpack were twisted; he sighed and fixed them for his sibling. Sometimes, Samy was so damn needy that he couldn't stand it.
"There, you're all se-," Dean began, but was cut off as he began to cough again. Ow.. His chest ached, and he thought he would throw up. He doubled over, as the vomit rose in his throat. But he swallowed the bile-he couldn't seem weak in front of Sammy.
"Dean, you're really sick," Sam said, his eyebrows knit in concern.
"I'm fine, Sammy," Dean lied. Really, he hadn't felt this crappy in a long time.
"Dean, you're definately not," Sam disagreed. "I've heard the way you cough, and you're practically radiating heat. You need to be inside somewhere, resting."
"Yeah, well, I can't," Dean announced, angry. Sam was always making a mountain out of a molehill-it pissed him off.
"How can Dad do this to you? " Sam asked incredously. "How can you let him do this to you?"
"Shut up, Sam!" Dean shouted at his brother. It pissed him off how Sam had no loyalty to his father. "Just keep running."
And he sped off, leaving his brother in the dust.