Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in Supernatural, I just borrow.
Thanks for all of the reviews and reads!
When Dean arrived at the river, he sighed. He'd left Sam in the dust, in order to gain some time to clear his head. But he didn't get to; he was far to busy stopping every fifty feet to cough. He was also freezing, despite the layers of clothing he was wearing. But despite the bone-chilling cld, he was sweating. Being sick seriously sucked.
Dean decided that he should survey their next challenge. He turned to the river, and sighed. The river was about fifteen feet wide, and they were going to have to walk through it. Dean dipped his hand into the water-it was freezing. Dean wondered absentmindedly if his father was trying to kill them.
He looked around to see if he could find a log that would take them across the river. But there was nothing; he wouldn't have put it past his father to have moved them, so they would have to rely on their own strenght.
At that moment, Sam arrived at the river. He took a couple of minutes to recover-he wasn't as good at running as Dean was. He was also afraid of seeing Dean. He hated when his big brother was sick; he hated even more when he couldn't help him.
When Sam saw his brother, the first thing he noticed was how pale Dean was. He was shivering, and he didn't even seem to realize it. Dean, the strongest person he knew, looked sickly.
And it terrified Sam.
He was wondering if he should try to talk Dean into sitting this one out, when Dean spoke up.
"I've looked around," he announced, without turning around. He didn't want to see Sam's face, to know that he was disappointing Sammy. How could an older brother who couldn't avoid catching a cold help Sam through this task? "There's nothing that can help us across. We're going to have to walk through it."
"How are we going to keep our stuff dry?" Sam asked, concerned. The last thing Dean needed was to walk around in wet clothes; it would make his illness even worse.
"It's only about three and a half feet deep," Dean replied. "I'll carry it in my backpack."
"I can carry some, Dean," Sam protested-Dean was going to run himself into the ground.
"It's up to my waist, Sam. It's up to your chest," Dean reminded him. "I can carry it."
Sam reluctantly handed his backpack to Dean, who was stripping down to his boxes.
"What are you doing!" Sam exclaimed.
"Clthes will weigh us down," Dean expalined, stuffing his clothes into his backpack. "You can keep yours on, if you want."
Dean was right, as uaual. He was knowledgable about what he had to do, and he didn't hesitate to do it. It's what made him such a great hunter.
Dean waited for Sam to be ready before wading into the water. He began to shiver so violently that he almost dropped the backpacks. He heard Sam gasp, and glimpsed back; when he saw Sam was following, he gritted his teeth and continued to move across the river.
When Dean reached the other side, he collapsed onto the ground. His legs felt frozen, and were nearly useless. He knew that he needed to put on some new clothes, but he had to wait for Sammy. It was his job to make sure the kid was safe.
"C-can't m-m-move," Sam announced, shivering. Dean pulled the tarp out of his bag and wrapped it around Sammy.
"Go put on the warmest clothes you have," Dean ordered. He was worried; Sam's lips were blue, and the boy was shivering worse than he was.
"I-I don't have any warm clothes with me," Sam chattered.
Dean sighed-how could Sam have been so stupid- and reached into his own bag. He pulled out his thickest pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. "Put these on."
Sam was too cold to argue. "Thanks, Dean."
As Sam hobbled off to change, Dean pulled on a tattered pair of sweats and a long-sleeved shirt. Those were his only warm clothes; he had outgrouwn everything else.
Dean figured that they should at least take a while to dry off and warm up, so he decided to start a fire. When Sam came back, Dean was lying by it, his head on one of the backpacks. His eyes were closed; Dean was asleep.
Sam realized how Dean shivered and coughed, even in his sleep. How could his father do this to his son? Couldn't he see how Dean was suffering?
For an hour, Sam sat by the fire; then he realized they still have a four mile run ahead of them. So he shook Dean awake.
"Dean," he whispered. "We have to go."
Dean got to his feet, exhausted. If possible, he felt even worse-now, his head was throbbing. He was swaying on his feet, as if he was about to fall over.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked, concerned. Dean noticed that Sam was shivering-what if Sam was sick?
Automatically, Dean reached out to feel Sam's forehead. He wasn't running a fever-a good sign.
"What are you doing?" Sam asked, incredulous.
"Nothing," Dean answered. "Let's get going."
And so they set off to find their campsite.
SPNSPNSPN
The next morning, Dean woke up to the sound of Sam coughing. His heart dropped-how could Sam get through this challenge if he was sick?
But Sam was still asleep; Dean figured he would give his little brother a little more time, so that he could begin to feel better. Dean didn't want Sam to be as sick as Dean was now.
Dean walked over to the charred remains of their fire pit, but to his suprise, there was a man sitting there. A man he knew well.
"Dad!" Dean exclaimed, then winced=his throat was sore from so much coughing.
"Hey, Dean," John greeted his eldest. Dean looked relatively healthy; a bit pale, but otherwise fine. "I broght you breakfast."
He handed Dean a paper bag-inside was a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwhich on a croissant, Dean's favorite breakfast food. Dean smiled-it was gestures like this that reminded him that his father turly cared about them. Dean ate the sandwich, relishing his first hot meal in three days.
"I've been watching you guys. You've done really well so far," John assured his eldest. "Today, I've set up an obstacle course. The sooner you get through it, the sooner you can move on to the next part of the challenge."
"Okay," Dean nodded. "I'll wake up Sammy."
Dean walked over to their makeshift shelter and shook his brother awake. "Sammy?"
Sam's eyes opened slowly, and he looked up at his older brother. "What?"
"We've got to get going," Dean answered. "Dad has breakfast for you."
"Dad's here?" Sam asked, snapping awake. "Is he taking us home?"
"No, Sammy," Dean replied sympathetially. "But he has food out there, I thought I saw a bacon, egg, and cheese out there for you.."
Grinning, Sammy jumped up and rushed out to his father; Dean laughed at his brother's excitement. As he packed up, he thought, this won't be so bad. They would finish the last few days of the challenge and then rest up at a motel for a few days before moving on to the next job.
If he had known what would happen, he would have taken Sammy and run.