So... I like Sam with messy season 2 hair, and even though I haven't decided when this takes place, that is the way I picture him when i write about him. I like the way Dean looks in season 1 so that's the Dean in my head. Just figured I should let you know! xx

Also, I own nothing, 'cept for some sorta sick need to make very handsome fictional men suffer for my entertainment.

Sam closed the door behind him as quiet as he possibly could not to wake his brother up. He put the two bags of stuff down on the table and was relieved that the horrible snoring had stopped. He went over to the bed to check on Dean but found that it was empty.
Where the hell was he?
He stormed in to the kitchen first, no sight of him, scanning everything he then noticed the bathroom light on, let go of the breath he'd been holding and walked over there. He knocked lightly.

"You alright?" No answer. He knocked a little bit harder.
"Dean? You in there?"
When he still got no answer he opened the door and the sight that greeted him got him in to a slight panic. Dean was curled up on the floor wearing just sweatpants, blood-stained bandages sticking to his upper body and the leg that Sam had patched up last night was bleeding through his clothes. He cursed under his breath and rushed up to Dean, slapping his cheeks lightly.

"Hey? Hey! You with me?" Dean opened his eyes, a puzzled look over his features.
"Sammy? What are you doing here?" His voice was hoarse and raspy.
"I could ask you the same buddy, come on... up you go..." Sam had to use almost all his strength to pull his shivering brother up on his feet.
"Come on, we're getting you in to bed again." He dragged Dean out of the bathroom and the two of them stumbled over to the bed. Sam tried to put him down as careful as possible but still got a moan of pain when he let go of his brothers arm.

He took a step back to figure out his next move. He needed to re-dress all the wounds as it all was soaked in water. He needed to get him warm. He needed to get the fever down. He needed to get some cough-syrup down his throat. He needed to kick Deans ass for even getting out of bed.

Dean was a bit confused as to what was happening. Everything seemed too bright to him and he was freezing cold. Snow perhaps? No... he couldn't remember seeing any snow or going outside although that sure would explain the cold and the brightness. In fact he couldn't remember much at all, thoughts were fuzzy and cloudy and trying to think harder made his head ache with pain. And why did his body hurt so bad? His chest and back was killing him and the shivering didn't help with that. It was too hard to breath and his leg was throbbing in a not so nice way.
He felt more than saw Sam manhandle him on to his back and closed his eyes to keep the bright light and pain out. If Sam was there maybe things were alright, maybe it was safe, he tried to focus on Sams voice.

"Right, you're just gonna have to go with me on this one, alright?" Sam mumbled calming and reassuring nonsense as he pulled his brothers wet sweatpants off him and put a couple of blankets on top of him. He pulled him up to more of a sitting position which earned him a loud moan of pain.
He tried to push his emotions away and get in to the autopilot state that Dean and his father seemed to be so good at. He hurried over to the table and grabbed Tylenol out of the bag and filled the water glass back up.

"Open your mouth, I'm gonna give you a couple of pills." He was a bit surprised to find Dean actually doing what he was told and helped him with the water. He popped the thermometer in his mouth as well and held it in place. Worry in his eyes as he studied his brothers shivering body. It beeped and he got it out. 102.9 Not good.

"Dean? I'm gonna take one of the blankets off, I need to keep you a little bit cool, your fever is too high, man." He pulled one of the blankets off and then went to get the cough-syrup out of the bag. He figured that if he could get Dean drugged up and a bit loopy, re-dressing his wounds would be a hell of a lot easier.

Dean swallowed the gross-tasting liquid that Sam gave him, it left a too sweet after-taste but for some reason he couldn't master the strength to tell Sam off for it. He was too hot one second and too cold the other, just staying awake was a major effort.

Sam sat down next to his brother, deciding to give Dean a second for the drugs to take effect before bugging him with bandages and more pain. He turned the TV on, settling for some lame cop-show after flicking through for a while finding nothing else. He looked at his watch, he would give Dean 30 minutes before ripping his blanket off and dealing with the wounds.
He knew they were bad but not bad in a bleeding to death kind of way and he was quite happy to have Dean lying down resting and not up doing idiotic things like taking a shower. God, he was such a fucking idiot! Sam tried to control his anger as he thought of his stupidity and instead focused on the TV.

He flinched slightly when he felt his brothers head land on his shoulder, a quiet snore filling the room. Guess the cough-syrup really does work. He checked the time again, 10 more minutes and then he would wake Dean up and take care of his wounds. He tried to focus on the TV again but it all looked kind of blurry, his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. He checked the time again. 5 more minutes. He would just close his eyes for 5 minutes and then he would get up. He scooted down a little bit.

The last thing Sam registered was his cheek softly meeting the top of Deans head, tense muscles relaxing as he could feel his brother sleeping next to him, knowing that he was safe.