A prompt asked for Dean with a double ear infection. Full prompt at the end.
Sam scans the murky water for any sign of his brother. Sure, he was looking for the woman, too, but Dean…
Off to the left, some bubbles pop on the surface, then Dean's head emerges, followed by that of a young woman, both desperately gasping for air. Sam scrambles as close to the edge of the lake as possible, reaching out to help them ashore.
Soon enough, they're all panting on the dock, Dean and the woman lying in a massive puddle of dark, filthy water.
Dean lolls his head towards Sam. "Got 'er…"
A couple days later, Dean's right ear starts bothering him. Sam knows this, because Dean's been fussing with it all morning in the car. But Sam also knows how Dean is, so he decides to play this carefully and say nothing, instead keeping an eye on his brother.
But he was fussing - pulling on it, massaging it, shaking his head like he couldn't clear it.
Unable to help himself, Sam asked, "You okay?"
Immediately, Dean's eyes flicker to Sam, and his hand returns to the wheel. "Yeah. Just...some of that swamp water's still in there, I think. I can feel it. Fuckin' annoying."
Oh, okay. That's not a big deal. Relieved, Sam felt he could engage. "That sucks. Maybe try tilting your head? See if it'll drip out?"
Dean shook his head. "Tried that. Didn't work." He sniffed and shrugged his shoulders, already done with the conversation. "It's fine, Sam. Just water logged."
And it was dropped.
That night, they stopped for dinner at a chain steak restaurant. Sam figured Dean would be excited, but Dean's actions spoke otherwise. He grimaces when swallowing, and keeps looking around like he isn't sure what's going on. Still, Sam chalks it up to being on the road too long, and focuses on the menu.
When the waitress brings their food, Dean's eyebrows shoot up at Sam's plate.
"What?" Sam huffs, knowing what's coming.
Dean gestures at the plate. "You...eating red meat. You cursed to eat like a normal human being or something?" He spins his plate a little, frowning at his steak.
Sam rolls his eyes as he picks up his knife and fork. "Dude, I ordered this right after you did. Didn't you hear me?"
Dean hesitates, twirling his fork around his fingers. "Must've been too stunned to remember."
Sam blinks. Huh?
Dean waves his fork at him. "Nevermind. Just eat."
They have four hours until home, and without warning, Dean pulls into a gas station, the deceleration rousing Sam from a dazed stare out the window.
Sam sits up, rubbing his eyes. "What's up?" He looks over. Dean's face is pinched, one hand clasped over his left ear. "Uh...you okay?"
"Head's pounding. That water's fucking me up."
Sam's eyes narrow as he takes a closer look. "Okay...I'll drive, you rest...tilt your head and see if it'll drip out."
"Yeah...okay."
They're two hours outside of Lebanon when Dean starts sweating. Twenty minutes later, he's shivering.
Sam drives faster.
One hour to go, the whimpering starts. Not constantly, but in pitiful bursts when the car hits a bump, jostling Dean in any way.
When Sam sees a blue sign with a blazing white "H" in the middle, he takes the exit and pulls up to the emergency room.
Sam steals a glance at Dean, who's curled up in a large armchair in the Bunker's library. A box of tissues lie in his lap, his head in his hands.
The Emergency Room doctors diagnosed Dean with a serious infection inside both ears, caused by some nasty bacteria from the lake water. They said he'd get worse before better, because within the time it'll take the antibiotics to work, the infection will worsen.
Awesome.
The table's piled with medicines and supplies. Sam starts putting boxes and bottles in order, according to the hospital's instructions and their own knowledge of what'll make Dean feel better. He reads each label and decides where it belongs, methodically moving through them all. He picks up a box of prescription ear drops, then compares it to the other box of prescription ear drops, which is totally different from the one in the closet they bought from a drug store a couple months ago.
"Hey, Dean - did they give you any ear drops at the hospital?" He's re-reading both labels now, trying to sort this through.
He hears a little huff. "Don't be stupid - why would they do that?"
Sam raises an eyebrow, tearing his eyes off the pill bottle. That wasn't exactly the expected reply, mumbled or otherwise. "Uh...because they prescribed two different kinds?"
"In lime?"
"In...what?"
Dean looks up, pain lines crinkling the...well, his whole face. "What the fuck're you askin' me about lollipops for?"
"What?"
"What?"
Sam holds up his hands. "Wait, wait, wait...I asked you if the doctors put ear drops in your ears." To help, he holds up the medicine, waggling it back and forth. "Ear drops."
Dean blinks. "Oh...uh...no."
Sam pulls at his chin. "Okay...we need to do that, along with give you all your other medicine, before you pass out."
Dean squints at him, then sinks back into the chair, sniffling.
As soon as the last item is sorted, Dean coughs a little, followed by a hiss as he sucks in a breath and gingerly massages his throat. Sam winces in sympathy. "Hey...I'll make you some tea, okay?"
"Make me what?"
"Tea, Dean."
"Teeding?"
"No, tea, for your throat."
"What goat? You find a Chupacabra?"
Oh, Jesus Christ.
"Okay." Sam stands, gesturing at Dean to stay put. He speaks slowly and maybe a little loudly. "I'm going to make you some tea."
Dean makes a face.
"Shut up - it'll be good for you."
Dean rolls his eyes.
"Stay here - I'll be right back. Then you have to take your medicine."
Dean closes his eyes. "Yes, Mom."
Sam's instinct tells him to cuff Dean on the head, but he stops himself at the last second. "Whatever." Rolling his own eyes, he walks to the kitchen to boil some water, hands buried in his hair, alternating between pulling and just plain gripping.
Sam's worried as fuck, but he figures as long as Dean can still act like an ass, it'll be okay.
Once he finds the tea, he starts filling the teapot with cold water. That's when he hears a chair slide into the table, and a soft, "Fucking chair…" He turns to find Dean, wrapped in a blanket, stumbling into the kitchen.
"Dean...what are you doing up? I told you to stay put." Sam hastily sets the kettle on the burner and heads towards his brother, who's swaying and reaching out to the table for support.
"Couldn't find you."
Sam sighs as he helps Dean into a chair. "Dude - I was gone all of three minutes, and I told you where I was going."
"Hmmm?" Dean buries his face in a tissue, blowing his nose and sniffling pathetically.
"I - nevermind. Just...just sit here." He gets eye level with his brother, taking his chin and forcing eye contact. "Just. Sit. Here."
Dean pulls away, wincing from the movement and annoyed at Sam's tone. "I am sittin' here. Geez."
Sam's mouth opens, then closes. With a shake of his head, he returns to the stove and turns on the burner. While he's taking the box of tea out of the cabinet, he notices that Dean's shivering, despite the blanket draped across his shoulders.
"You cold?" Sam rubs Dean's arms a little.
Dean nods, pulling the blanket tighter.
"Okay. Hold on."
Sam goes to the hall closet where Dean stores all their linens. He marvels at how they have seriously fucked up lives, but Dean somehow managed to give them a linen closet. Smiling, he grabs the thick blanket Dean bought when Sam had the flu a few months ago. The door closes, and Sam just about wet his pants.
Standing behind the once open door is Dean, frowning.
"Dean! What the hell are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack!" Sam's got one hand on his chest, the other clutching the blanket as he struggles to get his heartbeat under control.
"Didn't know where you went - thought you were cookin'...or…" Dean sniffs, and looks behind him, blinking at the empty hallway. "Wait...I…"
Sam takes hold of Dean's arm, carefully guiding his brother back to the kitchen. "C'mon…" Dean's unsteady gait causes them to bump shoulders more than once.
Back in the kitchen, Sam maneuvers Dean into the chair, wrapping him up in the thick blanket. Dean sighs. "Thanks, Sammy." He rubs his nose on it and sighs again, resting his head on his arms as he leans against the table.
Sam smiles through a tiny huff. "No problem." You've done so much for me - this is nothing. He rubs Dean's back a few seconds, before returning to the teapot, which has just started to whistle.
Sam rushes over to turn off the heat. "Shit, that's loud."
Dean doesn't react at all.
Sam makes two large mugs of tea, and sets them aside to steep with a plate on top to trap the heat. Gently, he places a hand on Dean's shoulder and bends down. "Hey - time for medicine."
Dean sighs and makes a feeble jazz-hand gesture. Yayyyy…
He wobbles with Sam back into the library, plopping into the armchair and wiping his nose.
Sam watches him while tearing open box after box, getting the pills and drops ready. He's pretty sure he's never seen Dean this sick. Sam's definitely sure he's never been allowed to take care of him like this.
Once upon a time, he was certain Dean didn't need Sam the way Sam needs Dean.
Feverish eyes gaze up at Sam. Dean whispers, "Sammy?"
Now Sam knows - he was wrong.
Sam nods. "Here's the first one…"
Dean takes it all like the trooper he is, despite the discomfort and pain. He white knuckles the blanket, but doesn't make a noise above a sharp intake of breath now and then. Once the whole routine is finished, Sam glances at the clock, noting that it all has to be done again in four hours.
He watches Dean wipe his nose, trying not to sneeze. Sam wraps his palm around the back of Dean's neck, squeezing gently, just as Dean loses the battle and sneezes anyway. He wants to cry too, when Dean bites back a sob, and Sam decides Dean's had enough.
"C'mon, Dean."
He tugs on Dean's sleeve until Dean stands up. Sam snags the mugs of tea, holds out his arm, then leads them Dean's bedroom.
It takes all of two minutes for Dean to crawl in bed, sighing. Sam makes him drink some tea before letting him nestle under the blankets. Once he's sure Dean's comfortable, he sets his alarm, and crawls in next to him.
It takes all of two seconds for Dean's head to settle on Sam's chest. Sam threads his fingers in Dean's hair, and shuts off the light.
Full Prompt: I am desperately in need of a bunker fic where Dean has a full-blown double ear infection. He is having trouble hearing, so maybe he constantly misunderstands Sam, but in a cute and funny way. He is also practically attached to Sam's hip and tends to follow him from room to room wrapped in a blanket, even though he's dizzy and exhausted. Sam finally gets him to go to sleep in his bed, but not without dosing him with medicine and cuddling him first!