Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Summary: John was always a good soldier, but rarely a good dad. Luckily for him, he had Dean to pick up the slack. John reflects back on five instances where Dean proved to be the better parent of the two of them.

Tag to Dead Man's Blood but no actual spoilers.

Sam shifted restlessly on his bed for a moment and a small frown creased his brow before he settled again into a deeper sleep. John watched in amazement as Dean's head turned slightly towards his brother as if he sensed Sam's discomfort, even on a subconscious level.

Dean had always been attuned to Sam's needs. John had gotten the voicemails from Dean about his youngest's nightmares after Jessica had died. As much as it pained him, John never returned the calls because he knew without a doubt that Dean would be able to fix things on his own. That's what the kid did best, especially when it came to his little brother.

If Sam sneezed, Dean would go out and buy orange juice and Kleenex. If his voice sounded raspier than usual, Dean would get lozenges and cough syrup. His youngest would insist he was fine, just allergies or pollution… But Dean always knew better and sure enough, Sam would be bed-ridden the very next day.

Though John hadn't been there to witness the pampering until Sam was towards the end of his battle with the cold from Hell, he had heard the story plenty of times over the past few years. His youngest had been twelve and Dean had just gotten his permit, which meant he could legally drive with an adult in the car.

Granted, Dean had been taught to drive as soon as he could reach the pedals just in case John was too hurt to take himself to the hospital… but that's a story for another time.

Since John was going to be hunting nearby with Bobby who had every weapon known to mankind, he decided to leave the Impala behind for emergency use only. Unfortunately, their run down motel wasn't near anything useful and he knew Dean would eventually have to find his way to the nearest store for food.

Thankfully, the hunt was only supposed to take three days, max. Rather than have Dean go through all the work of transferring their records to the local school for such a short amount of time, John gave the boys some time off. They deserved it considering Dean was still nursing a few minor injuries from their latest hunt.

The boy was a natural, but sometimes the beasts were just a little bit faster. John checked the slowly healing bruises on Dean's left side one more time (much to his son's disgruntle), then dropped the keys into his open hand with the warning that the Impala was not a pimp machine and if he found any spare articles of female's clothing in the back seat, it would earn Dean extra laps for a month.

"No backseat. Gotcha." The cocky grin on his son's face told John exactly what Dean was thinking.

"No front seat either. Or hood, or trunk, or anywhere else that involves my car. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good." Then as an automatic response, he added, "Look after your brother while I'm gone." As if he had to give that order these days… After the Striga incident, Dean hardly ever let Sammy out of his sight.

Apparently his eldest was thinking along the same lines because his expression sobered immediately. "Yes, sir."

Sam groaned from his perch on the end of their motel bed. "Dad, I'm almost thirteen now. I don't need a babysitter anymore."

John paused for a moment in the doorway, considering. "Excellent point. Sam, look after your brother."

"Hey!" Dean shot a look over at his father, feigning indignation. But of course, he didn't really mind. As long as the eldest and youngest Winchesters were getting along, he was perfectly happy with being the butt of their jokes. Not that he'd ever actually admit to that though…

Sam burst into laughter that ended in a coughing fit. Dean strode over and patted him on the back until he got himself under control again. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Sam gasped back. "Just swallowed wrong."

"That's what you get for makin' fun of your big brother." Dean nudged Sam's arm with his elbow.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

And with that, John left his sons to their brotherly banter.

A few hours passed pleasantly enough as the boys camped out on the beds (Sam on theirs and Dean on John's) and watched a horror movie marathon together. Halfway through the second film, Dean noticed Sam was starting to squint at the screen. Either the kid needed glasses, or…

"Headache, Sammy?"

Sam jumped slightly, looking like he had been caught red-handed. "Just a little one."

"Want somethin' for it?"

Sam shook his head. "That's okay. I'm probably just overtired."

They both turned back to watch the rest of the film, though Dean was careful to be more observant to any signs of stress or discomfort coming from his brother. As the end credits began to roll, Dean's stomach growled loudly and he checked his watch. It was definitely suppertime.

"Hey, bro, ready to take the Impala for a drive and grab some grub?"

Sam's face squinched up and he absently rubbed a hand across his stomach. "Nah. Not really hungry."

That certainly caught Dean's attention. He frowned. "Dude, you normally have the appetite of a whale. What's up with you?"

"Nothin'. Just not hungry is all."

"Uh huh…" Dean gave him a calculating stare and Sam tried not to squirm under the intense scrutiny. "Come 'ere for a sec."

"Why?" Sam asked warily.

"Either you come to me or I'm comin' to you. Your choice."

Sam stood with a huff and made his way to his brother's side. "What, Dean?"

Dean's hand shot out and felt Sam's forehead before he could protest. "You're feelin' a bit warm, Sammy. You comin' down with somethin'?"

Sam brushed his brother's hand away. "I'm fine, Dean. You're just being paranoid."

"It's my job to be paranoid, dude. That last school we were at had a nasty bug goin' around. Maybe we should stock up on meds while we're out."

"You wanna get meds, you should buy some more painkillers. I know your side still hurts, Dean. You were supposed to get refills when your prescription ran out."

"Those pills screw with my head, Sammy. Besides, it's just a few bruises. Nothin' I can't handle. You thinkin' soup and salad tonight, or are you gonna man up and get some real food like a chili dog or bacon burger?"

Sam turned six shades of green and raced off towards the bathroom. Dean leapt off the bed and darted after him. He arrived just in time to see his brother grace the toilet bowl with his breakfast and lunch.

Dean wet a washcloth with cool water and sat on the side of the tub so he was within arm's reach of Sam. "Easy, buddy… Just breathe…" he coached, wincing as Sam's stomach continued to clench painfully even after it was completely empty.

Dean rubbed soothing circles on Sam's tense back, supporting him with a hand on his shoulder. When Sam was finally able to catch his breath, he rested his forehead against his outstretched arms and swallowed a few times, convulsively. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah, kiddo?" Dean asked, draping the folded cloth around Sam's neck and gently massaging the strained muscles underneath it.

"I think I'm comin' down with somethin'," Sam replied hoarsely.

Dean snorted. "Ya think? Come on, Captain Obvious. Let's get you in bed where you belong."

"What about your supper?" Sam protested feebly as Dean eased him to his feet.

"It can wait." Dean knew he had to make a trip to the local pharmacy but he wasn't sure whether it would be best to drag Sam out into the cold night air or leave him in the motel room alone. Neither option seemed all that promising.

When Sam sagged a bit in his arms, Dean's mind was made up. He half carried his brother to their bed and eased him down to the mattress before covering him with the blankets.

"Okay, Sammy, I've gotta run out for a bit, but here's a trash basket if you feel nauseous again and don't answer the door for anybody, got it? I have my key so I'll let myself back in. You stay in this bed and I'll be back as soon as possible, alright?"

Sam nodded with a small cough but he was clearly giving in to his exhaustion. Dean checked his forehead again before smoothing his brother's hair back away from his sweaty face.

"Get some sleep, kiddo." Dean made sure to leave a gun in the bedside table's drawer where Sam could easily reach it if necessary, then he checked to make sure the salt lines in front of the door and the windows were unbroken before heading out to the car at a fast pace. He didn't want to be gone any longer than absolutely necessary.

It took Dean six minutes to reach the closest pharmacy, ten minutes inside to get everything he needed and checked out, and then another six minutes to get back to the motel. When he slipped back in through the door, he found Sam sleeping fitfully, exactly where he had left him twenty-two minutes ago.

He deposited his bag on the kitchen table and began pulling out his purchased items. He shook two Tylenol pills into his hand and cracked open a bottle of water. He didn't trust the motel water that came with a slight brownish tint and a mysterious odor.

Tucking a package of crackers and a bag of lozenges into his crooked elbow, he carried his first round of supplies to Sammy's bedside and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Placing the bottled water into his own lap, he gently shook Sam's shoulder.

"Hey, dude. I'm back. I need you to wake up for a bit."

Sam groaned and reluctantly cracked his eyes open. "'m tired, Dean…"

"I know, kiddo. But you've gotta take some meds before you pass out again, okay? Here." Dean held the two Tylenol out for his brother to take and waited patiently for Sam to push himself up onto his elbows and accept the proffered pills.

The water bottle was placed in Sam's other hand, cap already off because Dean knew his brother was feeling weak. Sam gratefully took a few gulps of the cold water to wash the drugs down but as they hit his stomach, his eyes widened in alarm.

Dean immediately placed the bucket in front of him just as the pills and water resurfaced. "So it's gonna be like that, huh?" he teased without any real humor to his tone, automatically rubbing Sam's back once again.

"S-sorry, Dean…" Sam panted after spitting the fowl taste out of his mouth.

"Don't apologize, Sammy. 's not your fault." He waited a few more minutes and when it seemed his brother was done for now, Dean took hold of the bucket. "You good?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Alright. Just relax for a minute." Dean took the bucket into the bathroom and rinsed it out before returning it to the side of Sam's bed in case he needed it later. "Look, I know you're not gonna wanna hear this, bro, but you really need to eat somethin'. Pills on an empty stomach was my mistake, so why don't we try some crackers, and sip the water this time. Don't chug it."

The last thing Sam wanted to do was think about food, but he had learned long ago that Dean always knew what was best for him. If he said it was time to eat, then it was time to eat. "I'll try."

Dean opened the package of crackers and handed him one. "Start off slow, okay? Let's see how you handle it."

Sam nibbled on the cracker until it was gone. It took nearly three minutes for him to finish it, but so far it was staying down. Dean handed him another. When Sam was eight crackers in, he decided to call it quits. He didn't want to push his luck. Dean conceded, for now.

The effort had been exhausting and Sam was already drifting off again. He was covered in sweat and his shirt was nearly soaked through but he didn't have the energy to change. When the air conditioning kicked on in the room though, he couldn't contain the violent shudder that wracked his thin frame.

Dean quickly strode across the room and shut the machine off. It was getting warm thanks to all the body heat his brother was throwing, but Sammy's comfort always came first. He went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth, then grabbed a clean T-shirt from his own bag before returning to Sam's side.

"You're startin' to stink, dude. Arms up."

Sam mumbled a protest but didn't have much choice when his big brother gently took hold of his wrists and pulled him upright. Dean quickly slipped the wet shirt off of Sam and, using the warm cloth, he did his best to clean his brother up and cool him down at the same time.

"Here, put this on," Dean said as he tossed his shirt into his brother's lap. Knowing that sickness came with body aches and pains, Dean didn't want Sam to be restricted anymore than necessary. The shirt he had chosen was twice the size of his brother's usual shirts and would look more like a nightgown on the kid, but at least he'd have room to breathe comfortably. "How's the head?"

"Still hurts," Sam admitted as he struggled with the shirt, starting to sound like a young child again, which naturally brought out the mother-hen in Dean. He reached forward and helped tug the shirt over his brother's head.

"You wanna try some Tylenol again or go back to sleep?"

"Sleep."

"Kay." Dean gauged his brother's temperature again with the back of his hand as he helped him slide back down under the blankets. Noticing it seemed a bit higher than before, Dean took the heaviest blanket off the bed.

"Deeaannn…. It's cold!"

"No, Sammy, it isn't. It's just the fever, and if you keep that blanket on, you're gonna turn into a pot roast. Go back to sleep now. You'll feel better in the mornin'."

Dean had just barely turned his back when he could hear Sam's congested snores behind him. He smirked. If only it had always been this easy to get the kid to sleep…

Dean eyed the crackers, his stomach giving another loud rumble. Those were Sam's crackers though, and he wasn't about to take them away from him. He should have bought something at the store, but funds were limited and the medicines were expensive.

He cracked open a Gatorade knowing that it would at least replenish some of the nutrients his system was no doubt craving. Sam was going to have to stick to water for a while anyway; at least until his stomach decided to cooperate.

He had just sat down to field strip his weapons when Sam began coughing. Dean looked up and watched as his brother tossed and turned for a bit, the coughs sounding painful and wet.

The elder Winchester quietly sifted through his bag of items and pulled out a jar of Vick's VapoRub. Did he know his brother well, or what? Taking up his seat by Sam's side again, he easily pulled the over-sized shirt's neckline down a few inches, granting him access to his brother's congested chest.

Dean scooped some of the rub onto his fingers and massaged it into Sam's heated skin. Sam looked up at him blearily in confusion when the icy feel of the medicine pulled him from his uneasy sleep.

"Just me, dude. Go back to sleep," Dean whispered and Sam's eyelids fell shut once again. The vapors were opening Sam's sinuses already and easing the tickle in his lungs. He sighed in relief and went lax under his brother's skilled hands.

Sam woke a few more times during the night, but his big brother was always there to tend to his needs. He'd hold the bucket when Sam felt nauseous again, give him lozenges when his throat throbbed from the coughing and stomach acid, repeatedly check his temperature, and cool him down with wet cloths whenever the sweating began.

Dean was just starting to drift off in the chair next to his brother's bed when Sam woke up once again. The sun was beginning to shine in through the heavy blinds covering the motel room's windows.

As the younger boy attempted to sit up, he let out an involuntary groan as his muscles screamed in protest. Dean jolted back to awareness and his eyes immediately fell on his brother's pained expression. "Sammy?"

"Hey, Dean. Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"Nah, I wasn't really sleepin'. You need somethin'?"

"Bathroom."

"Alright. Come on." Dean stood with a bone-cracking stretch and held a hand out for his brother to take.

"I can do it, Dean," Sam protested, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing unsteadily. Dean tried not to laugh as the indignation mixed with the over-sized T-shirt made his little brother look like a toddler again.

Conceding to Sam's wishes, Dean took half a step back to clear a path to the bathroom and quirked an eyebrow at his little brother which Sam took as a dare. He shuffled one foot forward and almost immediately, his legs gave way.

Dean's arms shot out, encircling his chest from behind, and that was the only reason Sam didn't face-plant into the floor. Dean grunted as he was forced to use his bruised muscles to compensate for the sudden weight in his arms, but no way was he letting Sam go.

Ignoring his own pain, he encouraged his brother with comforting tones. "Easy, Sammy. Take it slow." He guided Sam towards the bathroom and by the time they reached the door, Sam had regained most of the control in his jellified muscles. He proceeded to take care of business alone, but was immediately met by Dean when he opened the door for the return trip back to bed.

"You're dehydrated, dude. Think you can keep some water down today?"

Sam considered the question, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think so."

"Good." Dean handed Sam the same water bottle from the night before. By now, the liquid was closer to room temperature so hopefully it wouldn't shock his system this time around and upset his stomach. Sam took a few tentative sips and the burning in his throat started to ease off. "Alright, I want you to take one of these before we try more crackers, okay?"

Dean held out a chew tablet designed to settle upset stomachs. Sam gladly took the medicine and waited a few minutes to give it time to kick in. "Take it slow again, alright?" Dean warned as he handed over the crackers.

Sam heard Dean's stomach growl and frowned at his brother. "Did you ever get dinner last night?"

"Like anyone could eat after cleaning up vomit all night…" he deflected.

"Dean, you could get sick too if you don't take care of yourself half as well as you take care of me."

"No worries, Sammy. I'm immune to little brother bugs."

"I'm not gonna eat another cracker until you have," Sam challenged.

"Really mature, Sam," Dean grumbled, but he grudgingly took a cracker and made a show of eating it. "There. See? I ate one. Now you eat the rest."

Dean was in the process of checking Sam's fever again when the door swung open, making both boys jump. "Dad? Bobby?"

The older man carried John's bag in for him, which set off the alarm bells in Dean's head. "What happened? You guys alright?"

John held up a finger and made a dive for the bathroom. Bobby turned back to the boys. "We took out the spirit the same hour we arrived. Bad news is, we celebrated at a local dive and now I think John's got food poisoning. I told him that burger didn't look cooked…"

Dean groaned and Sam chuckled sympathetically at him. Out of the frying pan, and into the fire. Dean stood wearily and went to get the nausea medicine again.

TBC

I made this chapter extra long as a thanks for all your support and reviews! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and more to come soon.