Hey guys!!

I am so happy right now… You guys seem to be loving the story, and telling someone that they're doing something right, always makes you feel good.

With that said, I am sorry to say that I ran out of Jolly Ranchers, so this chapter isn't as fruity… I don't think.

So anyways, I hope you all like this chapter…

Happy reading.

XXXX

How did we get here?
I use to know you so well
How did we get here?
Well, I think I know

Paramore, Decode

XXXX

Dean had been sitting on the edge of his bed, not watching Sam as he slept. He wasn't keeping watch over every stuttered breath, or the sweat that had glazed his skin in the last four hours. And he definitely was not worrying himself into exhaustion over said little brother.

No Dean wasn't doing any of those things, he turned to the tv, no he was watching… what the hell? General Hospital? Quickly reaching for the remote, Dean changed the channel to a football game, yeah he was watching a manly football game, and not watching his little brother sleep.

Who the hell am I kidding?

Dean looked back to Sam, and then to the old fashioned alarm clock on the bedside table between them. Seeing 3:26 flash back at him, and looking out the window to see it was indeed three thirty in the morning, Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, sighed and stood.

It's time for your medicine, Sammy-boy.

Heading for the bathroom, and filling a cup with water, then grabbing the Tylenol again, Dean walked back to Sam. As he stood watching, Sam let out little whimpers, and moans, whether from the fever or pain, Dean didn't know, and he didn't want to find out.

Sitting on the edge of Sam's bed, Dean put the cup on the stand and turned back to his brother. He reached out a shaking hand and gently shook Sam's shoulder. The younger man moaned, but made no move to open his eyes, and Dean had to fight not to recoil from the heat coming from Sam's skin. If he had to hazard a guess, he would definitely say that Sam's fever had gotten worse.

Dean pushed away everything in his mind, and shook Sam again, harder this time, concern making his movements jerky and harsher than they had been before. Sam's eyes cracked open and he groaned, trying to roll away from Dean and his offending hand.

Dean kept his grip firm and pulled Sam back around to face him, concerned over the confusion etched in Sam's dark eyes. It was like he didn't know who Dean was, or where he was. Dean's head involuntarily tipped to the side and his thumb rubbed unconscious circles on Sam's collar bone.

"Sam?" softly, Dean tried to calm his brother, tried to get him to see that he was safe, that Dean wasn't going to let anything happen to him.

"D'n?" Sam asked, voice thick and hoarse.

"Yeah, Sammy, it's me." Dean turned to grab the Tylenol, but Sam's hand shot up to grab the one Dean had on his shoulder. He gripped Dean's wrist with surprising strength, given the fact he was sick, and confused.

"Wha' happened?" Panic laced through his voice, and Sam's eyes bore into his.

Turning back to Sam, Dean wrapped his own fingers around the hand Sam was gripping his wrist with, and squeezed. "You're just a little sick right now, Sammy."

"Oh." The look on Sam's face told Dean his little brother didn't really believe what Dean was telling him.

"You overdid it with Samhain, and everything's just catching up with you right now. You just need to rest and take it easy, and you'll be okay. Okay?" Dean intentionally kept his voice soft, trying to calm Sam.

"Okay." The answer was simple, and Dean felt warmed at the simple trust Sam had in his big brother.

"Okay." Dean breathed to himself more than Sam, turning back to the table and grabbing the Tylenol. He shook Sam's hand off his wrist and turned it face up, placing the white oblong pills in it, before reaching back to get the glass of water.

Sam's hand curled around the pills and his pushed both hands into the bed to push himself up onto his elbows. He raised the pills to his mouth and threw them in before reaching to take the water from Dean.

His hand shook and the water sloshed, enough so that Dean took notice and wrapped his hand around Sam's to steady him. Sam took a few tepid sips before pushing the cup back towards Dean, exhaustion written clearly in his features. Dean took the cup and Sam sank back into the bed, asleep almost before his head hit the pillows.

"You'll be okay Sammy." You have to be. Dean set his hand on the top of Sam's head and Sam leaned into the touch, his face relaxing all the more, as he settled deeper into sleep.

Sighing, Dean stood, his back cracking in protest. He lifted his hand from Sam's forehead and grabbed the wash cloth from the table before walking to the bathroom and running the tap until it was cold. Dean ran the cloth under the tap before shutting off the water and wringing it out.

Walking back into the room, he folded the cloth and placed it on Sam's forehead, his brother unconsciously flinching away from the cold before settling.

Walking over to his own bed, Dean stretched, working the kinks from his body. He stripped down to his boxers and a tee before setting the alarm on his phone to wake him when it was time for Sam to take more Tylenol. Sitting on his bed, he reached over and grabbed the knob on the lamp. Looking over to Sam once more, he was satisfied to see his brother sleeping comfortably, and switched off the lamp.

Closing his eyes, Dean laid back and sunk into sleep, his training allowing him to keep it light so he would know if something happened with Sammy.

Goodnight little brother.

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He was on fire.

There was no other way to describe what Sam Winchester was feeling other than the fact that he had to be on fire. The heat was stifling, consuming his entire being, choking him with its intensity.

He moaned, tossing his head to the side, even as he fought to get out of whatever bound him in place. Twisting onto his side, he jerked his legs out, freeing his left leg from its confines before working the rest of his body free.

The cold air hit him like a shock, rapidly cooling the sweat that had formed all over his body and had stuck his shirt to his upper back and chest. It chilled him, but didn't seem to affect the fire that raged through his veins.

Vaguely he recalled talking to Dean, his older brother saying something about him being sick, but the explanation drifted away and out of his grasp.

He finally opened his eyes and swung his legs off of the bed. He didn't know where he was going, all he knew was he needed to get away from the fire.

Sam stood, his head swimming at the abrupt motion, spots forming in his vision even as dizziness took hold. His knees buckled, and Sam fell, crumpling to the side, and clipping his head on the table on the way down.

As the dark encroached on his vision once more, his mind was screaming.

Dean!

XXXXX

A/N: So I hope you all enjoyed, let me know.

Take care and review often.

DS