Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

Note: I haven't watched the season 13 premiere yet, but I didn't want to let the last chapter hanging. Of course, I don't think this will all happen, but you know...had to do something while waiting for season 13 :)

Sam had brought Dean to the living room as well as found some old clothes for Jack. They were a size too large, the buttoned flannel shirt hanging off his shoulders and the cuffs sliding past his wrists, but they were all that were. Jack was very quiet which made the situation all the more awkward and difficult. Jack wasn't attacking him, but nor was he giving any indication to...anything at all. Whether he was happy or confused, sad or afraid. All he did was stare at everything in curiosity.

Sam pulled out a fresh pack of eggs from the fridge and he hatched two into the pan. Jack walked over to him, staring at the eggs in wonder. Sam tried not to look uncomfortable and instead fixed his gaze on Dean, who was fast asleep on the couch. He had guessed by now that his brother had developed a cold, a rather nasty one since he had been burning as well. Frowning to himself, Sam flipped the eggs until they were ready and then served them on a platter to Jack.

He started checking the cabinets for anything that might help Dean, but there wasn't anything to measure his fever with and nor were there any pills.

"Where's my mother?" Jack asked suddenly as Sam checked two paper bags that were standing out on the counter. Stiffening a little at the question, Sam took a deep breath and turned around. He looked at Jack sympathetically, knowing this would be hard even for a kid like him. He seems normal so far, Sam thought despite himself, and despite the flickering lights earlier. "Jack, your mother...didn't make it through when giving birth to you," Sam explained quietly.

Jack stopped chewing and swallowed with a passive nod. "I am aware. But where is she?"

Sam tried not to show his surprise. "Uh, you...know? We...burned her body."

Jack was eating quite quickly, Sam noticed, the younger boy stuffing his face until there were no eggs left. Jack licked his lips hungrily. "Is that what you do to your dead?"

"Yes," Sam said after a moment of hesitance. "Or we bury them," he said, unsure whether he should mention the fact that burning and salting the bodies was a secure way of not having any ghosts on them. But he decided the whole spirits and monsters thing would have to wait. He glanced at the clock and noticed that it was around noon. The world would start to notice, the demons and the angels. They had to start moving to the bunker or someone might want to "meet" Jack. Sam didn't doubt the kid was a celebrity at the moment.

A groan from the living room brought him out of his thoughts and he turned to the couch, where Dean was sitting up slowly, hand coming up to rub his face. "Man, I feel like I've been hit by a truck."

Sam turned back to the paper bags, pulling out a pack of pills. He checked them quickly (it would be a disaster if he accidentally gave Dean some special pregnancy pills), and saw that they were regular painkillers. "I've got painkillers here," he called out, filling a glass of water for his brother. Dean coughed into his elbow and then grimaced. "Ugh, haven't felt like this since I was twelve."

Sam grimaced at the memory. It was a bad day for both of them since Dean never got sick, and their father had been on a serious hunting trip. That was the first time Sam had witnessed his stubborn brother sick. And what a pain in the ass he had been. Sam handed him the glass of water and pills, glancing carefully back at Jack to ensure he wasn't scared of Dean or anything. After swallowing it, Dean buried his head in his hands, letting out a moan. "Man, are you sure you didn't left me on the road or anything?"

Shaking his head, Sam nudged Dean with his knee to get him to notice the kid. Though Dean seemed a little under the weather, Sam was silently glad his brother was awake to help with with the situation

"What?" Dean snapped, lifting his head up and squinting at Sam. A pain in the ass, really. Sam gave him an exasperated look as he nudged his head in Jack's direction. Dean turned his head and his eyes widened slightly at the boy, as if just noticing him. His reflexes kicked in and he was about to pull out his gun, which he didn't had, but Sam kicked him subtly in the shins anyway. "Dude," he said, dropping his voice. "He hasn't done anything. He seems normal, so far."

"He's anything but normal," Dean shot back, sending him a 'you know it' look. Sam tilted his head with a glare. He ignored his brother's comment and turned to Jack, who was staring at them in wonder. "Jack, this is Dean," Sam said, giving the boy a small smile.

"I am aware," Jack stated. "You told me earlier, Sam."

"Smartass, huh?" Dean muttered, pushing himself off the couch. He swayed suddenly, and Sam's brows furrowed worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Dean swatted his helping hand away with an annoyed look. "I'm fine." He walked over to the kitchen, rubbing his arm a little as he opened the fridge. Jack was watching him with calm, curious eyes. Dean swung the fridge shut after pulling out a bottle of beer, and turned around with a scowl. Sam watched as he took a huge swig of the bottle, and he couldn't help but notice how wan Dean looked. "Dean, you don't look good. I think you're coming down with something," Sam said despite knowing that Dean would just brush it off. He was right; Dean just rolled his eyes at him before turning to Jack. His gaze was hard, but it was also filled with...concern. "You're a nephillim," he stated gruffly.

Sam was about to call his brother out for being an idiot; Jack would of course not know what or who he was. But he was proven wrong when Jack's eyes turned yellow. The brother's were both stunned for a moment, and the young boy in front of them nodded seriously. "I am aware."

"Cut out the I'm aware thing," Dean said dismissively, lifting the bottle to his lips. "Just say 'I know'."

Jack looked intrigued and he sat up straighter. "Okay."

"Nephillim means you're half angel, half human," Dean continued, narrowing his eyes a little. He took another swig and let out a short breath. "A friend of ours was killed," he said slowly. "By your father, you owe it to us to bring him back."

Sam swallowed heavily, turning his attention towards Jack who was looking at Dean levelly. "You know my father?"

Dean was about to open his mouth, but Sam stepped forward quickly. "Okay uhm listen, we can catch up later, but we should get out of here. We should head to the bunker, Dean."

Dean snorted. "No, we should not. This place is warded, right? And besides, Jack owes-" he closed his mouth with a sigh at the look Sam was giving him. He wanted Cass back just as much as his brother, but they needed to be smart about it. Dean looked at him seriously. "I was...in shock last night. We shouldn't have burned the body," he said intently, pointing at the blonde boy. "Jack can bring him back."

Sam really hoped Jack could, but...what if he couldn't? He didn't want to voice that out loud, debunk Dean's idea and only hope. They needed to wait, needed to gain his trust, let him warm up to them first. Sam really hoped Dean was right, but they needed to approach this gently.

"Dean, can I talk to you?" Sam asked gently, throwing a glance in Jack's direction. Dean pushed himself off the counter, and for a moment, Sam watched his brother sway, his face turning paler than ever. Sam's concern grew and he was about to grab Dean's arm, but Dean slammed the beer on the kitchen island before heading off. Sam's eyes widened and he turned, watching Dean as he hurried to the nearest bedroom. Seconds after, they heard his brother vomiting.

"What is he doing?" Jack wondered and Sam sent him a weird look, his concern growing. "He's vomiting. Puking." The disturbing sounds stopped abruptly. "You okay?" Sam called, about to head after his sick brother.

"Is...puking always this noisy?" Jack asked, jumping off the stool. Sam watched him out of the corner of his eye as the boy grabbed a banana. Just then, Dean walked out of the room with a groan. "Puking is like the opposite of eating."

Sam grimaced at the explanation and Jack made a grossed face. Surprised at seeing an expression that wasn't calmness or curiosity, Sam's eyebrows arched. "So Jack, what do you know? About who you are?"

Dean stumbled over to the kitchen, his face tight. Sam could spot beads of sweat on his forehead, plastering strands of hair to his forehead. He knew he'd spotted a box of teabags in the one of the paper bags, and he started making tea: a soothing recipe for the throat which Amelia used to make for him. His heart clenched but he pushed the thought away. He glanced at Dean worriedly and placed the back of his hand on his forehead. trying to grasp his fever without a thermometer.

"I'm fine," Dean drawled before sneezing into his elbow. Making a face, Sam grabbed his brother's arm and pushed up his sleeve, taking his pulse. "I didn't do medicine, but you've got a fever and I think it was caused by a cold. Is your nose snotty?" Sam said, frowning in thought.

Dean gave him an annoyed look. "No. I'm not sick. You're saying so yourself, you're not medicine, you're law. You don't-" he sneezed again, face scrunching up in horror.

"Though I was only born twelve hours and thirty eight minutes ago, I believe your friend is right. You are sick," Jack concluded. Sam couldn't help but smile at the disgusted look on Dean's face.

Sam patted his arm. "Relax, I've got you covered. Special tea for the throat. I'm making pasta as well and there are some fruits in the fridge. I'll fill up a water bottle for you too, it's important to stay on liqui-"

Dean waved a hand to stop him, his eyes lowering. "None of that crap. I don't even drink tea, Sammy. We're ordering pizza."

Jack's eyes lit up. "What is the pizza?"

"Ugh. Sam, order," Dean said, grabbing his beer bottle to drink. Sam snatched it from his hands with a pointed look. "Dean-"

Dean sent him a look, but this wasn't just an annoyed or irritated look, emotion was underlying in it, and it made Sam stop mid-sentence. Dean ran a hand down his face. "Look, man. Don't be worried, I'll be fine. I know what you wanted to say to me before I went to puke," Dean said, lowing his voice to a whisper. "Making the kid feel like home. That's what I'm doing. Our top priority is getting Cass back, okay? You can make sure I'm fine after that."

Sam let out a heavy sigh, sending a look in Jack's- who was studying the black screen of the TV- direction. "Okay yes, fine. But be careful, we don't want it to get worse," he said, a troubled look on his face.

Despite the sweat, the paleness and the tiredness in his eyes, Dean quirked a smile at him, grabbing the beer back. "I'm always careful, friend."

Leave your thoughts in a review!