Fic: "Big Brother To The Rescue"
Title: Big Brother To The Rescue
Rating: T for mild violence and swearing
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Word count: ~6800
Summary: Dean has been sent on a hunt with Caleb, leaving Sam alone with John. What could possibly go wrong in only a few days? Some hurt/sick!Sam, Protective/big-brother!Dean and kinda uncaring!John. Dean 17, Sam 13.
Chapter 1
Sam curled himself into a little ball on his bed and whimpered as another round of cramps attacked his stomach. He'd been in the bathroom to throw up five times already and he wasn't sure he had the strength to leave the bed one more time. Not for the first time these past days, Sam really wished Dean was here.
"Caleb just called me." Their dad had said three days earlier. "He needs help on a hunt in Philadelphia, and since I'm all wrapped up here I want you to go Dean."
Dean had of course been thrilled, but Sam hadn't. Besides being worried about the fact that something could happen to his big brother on this hunt, Sam really didn't look forward to be alone with their dad - especially not at this time of the year. Every year around November the 2nd, John Winchester was not the funniest person to be around. He always mourned the date of Mary's death by drowning himself in an endless amount of liquor, and the brothers had learned not to be in his way when that happened. Dean always made sure to keep Sam distracted, but this year Sam was going to be all alone with their dad.
"What are you sulking about princess?" Dean had asked while packing his duffel bag. "I'm only gonna be gone for a few days. It's not the end of the world."
Sam just scowled at his big brother and Dean let out a sigh.
"What is bothering you Sammy?" Dean asked.
"Nothing.." Sam mumbled.
"Come on, I know that's not true. Is it dad?" Dean asked and when Sam didn't say anything, Dean let out another sigh and stopped packing before sitting down on the bed next to his little brother. "It's gonna be fine you know. Just leave him alone as much as possible, okay? And try not to piss him off.."
"Why would I piss him off Dean?" Sam asked with annoyance. "I never do that on purpose."
"I know Sam, but just try to give the man some slack, okay?" Dean said while pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Yeah.. Whatever.." Sam had said and Dean had then returned to pack his bag.
The following day, Dean had left in the Impala to meet up with Caleb, and Sam had felt his chest tighten just a tiny bit when he watched the car disappear in the distance. The first day had come and gone without any problems. Sam had been to school and when he got home, John had been busy researching for a hunt so there hadn't been much conversation, and Sam had been able to make his homework in peace. The second day however, Sam hadn't felt very well. Not that he had shared this with his dad of course - Sam was smart enough to know not to bother John with anything these days. But Sam had had a headache that just kept getting worse, and by the time he'd come home from school his stomach had also hurt and he'd felt nauseous. His dad hadn't been home, and Sam had found a note without any useful information on it other than the fact that his dad was out. Sam knew that it probably meant that his dad had gone off to the nearest bar and wouldn't be home anytime soon. Still struggling with the nausea, Sam had decided to skip dinner and just go to bed instead. He didn't know when or if his dad had come home yet, but when Sam woke up the following morning, he felt even worse than the day before. He was light-headed, and even though Sam's skin felt hot to the touch, he was shivering of coldness. Sam decided that he would still try to go to school though, but as he barely made it to the bathroom in time to kneel down in front of the toilet bowl and throw up, Sam figured that maybe skipping school wasn't such a bad idea after all.
That had been hours ago and Sam kept getting worse. He had no doubts that he had a fever and should probably take something to try to get it down, but he just hadn't got the strength to push himself off the bed. His whole body was shaking, his head felt like it was gonna explode any minute now, his throat was sore from throwing up so many times and his nausea just didn't seem to go away. Sam's stomach started cramping again and he wrapped his arms around his abdomen and tried to breathe through the pain. He swallowed hard a couple of times as bile once again tried to make its way through his throat. Sam couldn't do anything about it when he finally lost the battle against the rising bile, and he started throwing up - on the bed, on his pillow, and down himself. That was also when the tears started rolling down the thirteen-year-old's cheeks and Sam whimpered. He'd got no idea where his dad was at the moment and somehow it didn't really matter anyway, 'cause there was only one person in the world that could make everything better right now, and he wasn't present. Sam continued to cry softly into his messed-up pillow as he prayed for his big brother to get home soon.
Chapter 2
"You did good Dean." Caleb said and gave Dean's shoulder a pat as they returned to their motel room.
"Ah come on, it was a simple salt and burn!" Dean said but smiled nonetheless.
"No no, don't be modest. I couldn't have done it alone." Caleb said and dropped his bag on the floor. "Lunch's on me today! Pizza's fine with you, kid?"
"You know it." Dean grinned and flopped down on his bed as Caleb left the room.
Dean put his hands behind his head and let out a satisfied sigh, while letting his eyes travel across the old cracked ceiling of the motel room. The hunt had been simple and yet he was really proud of himself. The ghost, whose bones they had set out to burn, had shown up just as Caleb was about to ignite the bones, and if Dean hadn't reacted instantly and shot the damned thing with his shotgun, Caleb would have been thrown across the graveyard. The older hunter had been very grateful and had promised to let John know how great his oldest had been on this hunt, and Dean knew that his dad would be very pleased with him.
The grin on Dean's face faltered a little when he thought about his dad and baby brother. Sam had been anything but happy when Dean had left him alone with their dad and Dean completely understood why. Sam and John didn't always agree on things, and even though Sam was only thirteen years old he was stubborn as hell and asked so many questions that it drove their dad crazy sometimes. Dean just prayed that the two of them wouldn't be at each other's throats while he was not there to get between them - especially not when today was November the 2nd and Dean knew his dad would be drunk. Speaking of which, Dean really needed to call his brother and ask him if everything was alright. Not that he feared John would do anything to his youngest, not as long as Sam stayed out of his way at least and Dean knew that Sam was smart enough to do so. But hey, what could possibly go wrong in only a couple of days? Dean decided he would give his brother a call as soon as he'd taken a shower. He hadn't even made it to the bathroom though before the familiar tones of his cell phone sounded in the room, so he quickly made his way back to the bed and answered the phone.
"Yeah?" He said.
"Mr. Vedder?" An unknown female voice asked.
"Who's asking?" Dean demanded to know.
They rarely used their real names anymore and Dean couldn't remember when he'd used that exact alias and to whom. Still, with all of the evil SOBs out there, you couldn't be too careful.
"This is Joanna Wilkins from the school office." The woman said. "I'm calling about your brother Samuel."
"Sam? What about him? Is something wrong?" Dean asked and felt panic rise inside his chest.
Since their dad was usually busy with hunts, Dean was Sam's number one contact in case of emergency or in case the school needed to get in touch with his brother's family for some reason.
"That was what I'd hoped you could tell me, Mr. Vedder." Mrs. Wilkins said. "Sam hasn't been in school today and we didn't get a call or was contacted about anything that could inform us about the reason, so that's why I'm calling you."
"Hang on, Sam hasn't been in school today?" Dean asked incredulously.
Sam never missed out on school. Not unless something was entirely wrong, Dean realized with increasing concern.
"You weren't aware?" Mrs. Wilkins asked.
"No, I'm out of town at the moment, but my dad is home so Sam's in good hands." Dean said. "I will give him a call and sort this mess out Mrs. Wilkins."
"Alright, thanks for your time Mr. Vedder." Mrs. Wilkins told him and said goodbye before hanging up.
Dean looked at his phone for a few seconds while collecting his thoughts. There must have been some kind of logical reason for Sam not to have tended school, Dean told himself. Still, it was with slightly shaking hands that Dean pushed the speed dial and called his father. Dean impatiently drummed with his fingers on the nightstand while waiting for his dad to pick up the phone, which he unfortunately never did. Not that it came as a big surprise to Dean - John Winchester was a busy man and if he was out getting drunk or was passed out on the couch because of it, then a call would probably go by unnoticed. Dean gave up on his father and called his brother instead.
"Come on Sammy.. Pick up.. Pick up.." Dean mumbled and then washed a hand down his face when the phone was never answered.
Dean hung up the phone and put it into his pocket, before he quickly threw his things into the duffel bag. If something had happened to his brother while he had been away on a hunt, Dean would never be able to forgive himself.
"Two steaming hot pizzas coming up!" Caleb gladly announced as he returned to the motel room, but he stopped up with a confused expression on his face when he saw what Dean was doing. "Where are you going?"
"I got a call from Sam's school.." Dean explained and swung the duffel bag over his shoulder. "Sam hasn't been in school today, and you know that kid. He would rather take dance lessons than miss out on school. I called dad and then Sammy, but neither one of them picked up."
"You think something's wrong?" Caleb asked with a concerned look.
"I don't know. I just have a bad feeling about this." Dean said as he walked out of the door.
"You want me to come with you?" Caleb asked as he followed Dean out of the motel room. "I can get my things packed in a second and then be ready to hit the road."
"No, it's fine. I'll call you if something happens." Dean said as he threw his bag into the trunk of the Impala and then closed it.
He quickly made his way to the driver side of the car and slid behind the wheel in one smooth motion. Dean was luckily only a few hours out, and he would break all speed limits if necessary to get back home fast. As Dean was about to start the engine, Caleb opened up the passenger door and put down a pizza box on the seat.
"At least eat something on your way back there, okay?" Caleb said and shot Dean a quick smile before closing the door again.
Dean nodded his thanks and turned on the Impala, before speeding out of the motel parking lot as fast as he could. Pizza box disregarded, Dean had only got one thought in his head right now - to get back to Sammy as soon as possible.
Chapter 3
Dean arrived outside the motel room exactly an hour and forty-two minutes later. He turned off the engine of the Impala and didn't give his things a single thought before rushing to the door. Dean was quite surprised to find the door unlocked because that was a thing that happened very rarely, and only if all three Winchesters were home at the same time. Dean slowly pulled out his gun as he stepped inside the motel room, hoping his brother would be okay. The main room of the motel room was abandoned, except for some empty food wrappers and a lot of empty beer bottles. Dean let out a sigh and shook his head, knowing very well who had left those bottles behind. Dean moved further into the motel room until he reached the door to bedroom he shared with Sam, and slowly pushed the door open. He was immediately hit by the smell of vomit and Dean let his eyes scan the room for the reason why. The room seemed empty though - well except for a pile of blankets on one of the beds that looked a whole lot like….
"Sam.." Dean said with concern and put his gun away before carefully approaching his baby brother.
The source of the distinct smell of vomit was not hard to find. There was sickness down the bed and on the floor, Dean could see as he crouched down next to the huddled up figure that was known as his brother and he reached out a hand to touch the thirteen-year-old's forehead. He almost flinched back in sheer surprise of how much heat that was radiating off his little brother's skin and Dean's concern rose tremendously. Sam's eyes were closed but his small frame was shuddering, and he was pale as a sheet.
"Sammy.." Dean said in a soft voice and let his hand gently card through Sam's sweaty bangs, before he let his hand rest against Sam's cheek. "Sammy?"
Sam seemed to respond to Dean's voice because he shifted a little and leaned into his brother's touch while letting out a soft groan.
"Sammy.." Dean said again and gently shook Sam's shoulder.
This time he was rewarded when Sam's glassy eyes slowly fluttered open and circled a bit around before focusing on his big brother's face.
"Hey little brother." Dean said with a smile that went away the moment after, as Sam's eyes filled with tears and the younger brother softly started crying. "Hey hey, it's okay Sammy. You're not alone anymore, I'm right here."
"Dean.." Sam sniffled, his voice weak and hoarse. "I thought you would never come home."
Dean's chest tightened by those words, but he offered Sam a little smile and caressed his little brother's cheek with his thumb.
"Of course I would come home Sammy." Dean said in a soft voice. "Where's dad, Sam? Does he know you're sick?"
"Don't know.." Sam said in a small voice and weakly coughed.
Dean clenched his jaw. He couldn't believe his brother had been lying here sick and alone, while their dad had been off doing God only knows what. And he was the one who always preached about how important it was to keep Sam safe? Dean decided to push all thoughts about their dad aside for this time being, he would deal with him later - right now he had a sick brother to take care of. And boy, was his brother a mess.. Besides looking like a zombie, shaking violently and having what Dean could only assume was a high fever, Sam's pillow and clothes were covered in puke.
"Alright, let's get you cleaned up buddy and try to get that fever down." Dean said and got up from his crouching position, before taking off his jacket and throwing it on the other bed.
Dean pulled the blankets off Sam and he then - to his big regret - noticed that Sam hadn't only vomited down himself but had also soiled himself, and Dean had to take some deep breaths to control the rising anger towards his dad. Three days! Dean hadn't been gone for more than three days, and still his dad had managed to neglect his baby brother in a way that was quite unforgivable. November the 2nd or not, Dean had some serious things to tell his dad when last-mentioned got home!
"Dean.." Sam said with a shiver, breaking Dean out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, I'm right here.. I've got you Sammy.." Dean said before lifting his sick brother up and started carrying him to the bathroom.
Dean pushed the door to the bathroom open with his shoulder before carrying Sam inside the small room.
"Dean.." Sam said and swallowed hard a couple of times.
"You gonna be sick?" Dean asked and was already lowering Sam down in front of the toilet as the younger boy nodded.
Sam was too weak to keep himself up, so Dean held him up by placing an arm around Sam's chest and placed the hand on his other arm on Sam's forehead to keep him from nose-diving into the toilet bowl. Sam then started throwing up what little contains he had left in his stomach. Dean tightened his hold on his brother as Sam whimpered and weakly clenched the fabric of Dean's jeans.
"Shh, I'm right here." Dean soothed. "Just let it out Sammy.. Don't fight it.."
Sam gagged and spit a few more times until Dean thought it was safe to ease him back up.
"I've got you, I've got you.." Dean said in a soft voice to let Sam know that he wouldn't let go of him.
He held Sam close against his chest while flushing the toilet and then half dragged, half carried Sam towards the bathtub. Dean lowered Sam down to the floor and propped him up against the side of the bathtub and - without letting go of Sam completely - reached over to turn on the water so the bathtub could get filled. Dean made sure to keep the temperature of the water on a mean level, so that the fever could hopefully fall a bit while Sam didn't freeze to death in the process.
"Alright Sammy, let's get you out of these clothes.." Dean said and gently pulled the ruined shirt off Sam before getting started on the rest of Sam's clothes.
Sam didn't look embarrassed or complain about Dean's ministrations or anything, which Dean did not see as a good sign 'cause that meant Sam was really feeling bad. When Dean was satisfied with the amount of water in the tub, he turned off the faucet and then lifted Sam into the water. Sam let out a gasp as the water felt cold against his burning skin and he clawed at Dean to get back up.
"Easy, easy.." Dean said and held on to Sam so that he wouldn't slide under the surface. "We have to get you a bit cleaned up, alright?"
Dean reached out for a washcloth and gently started washing Sam's face and body with it.
"You okay Sammy?" Dean asked and looked into his little brother's half-mast glassy eyes.
"C-cold.." Sam responded.
"I know.." Dean said softly. "I'm done in a moment and then I'll get you nice and warm, okay?"
Sam weakly nodded and Dean gave him a little smile, before he finished cleaning his baby brother up. Dean lifted Sam out of the tub and wrapped him in a couple of towels. He then grabbed the first-aid kit and took it with him as he carried Sam back to the bedroom. Dean put Sam down on the older brother's own bed and got Sam dressed in some clean clothes, before quickly going to the kitchen to find a bottle of Ginger ale in the fridge. Dean always made sure they had a bottle of Ginger ale for situations like this - a thing he'd learned to do after dealing with a sick Sammy over the years. Dean returned to the room, found some Tylenol in the first-aid kit and sat down on the edge of the bed before easing Sam into a sitting position.
"Sam, I want you to take these for the fever, and some sips of the Ginger ale for your stomach, okay?" Dean said.
"'Kay.." Sam said and held out a shaky hand.
Dean gave him the Tylenol and then helped him hold onto the bottle of Ginger ale while Sam took a few sips of it, so that Sam wouldn't drop it.
"Good job buddy.." Dean said and put the bottle of Ginger ale on the nightstand, before easing Sam back down on the pillow.
Dean tucked the blankets closely around Sam and then let his hand rest on Sam's forehead for a moment. Sam was still warm, but Dean was satisfied with the fact that the fever seemed to have come down a little bit.
"Dean.." Sam said and fought to keep his eyes open.
"Yeah Sammy?" Dean asked.
"Are you really home?" Sam asked.
"Yes I am." Dean said. "And I'm taking care of you. I'm not going anywhere Sam, so just close your eyes and get some sleep, okay? I'll be right here when you wake up again."
Sam kept looking at Dean as he slowly blinked a couple of times. Then his eyelids closed and Sam's breathing evened out which meant that he'd fallen asleep. Dean sighed and washed a hand down his face while watching his brother sleep. Dean couldn't help but imagine what could have happened if he hadn't come home and had found his brother in this state. One thing was for sure though - Dean had a thing or two to discuss with John Winchester when he got home! But until then, Dean leaned back against the headboard of the bed, placed a hand on his little brother's chest and let the steady rhythm of Sam's breathing sooth him.
Chapter 4
John Winchester staggered towards the motel room with half a bottle of whiskey in hand. There hadn't been one single day in the past thirteen years where he hadn't thought about his Mary and that fatal day he'd lost her by the hands of a creature he had yet to track down. Even though it had now been thirteen years, November the 2nd was still such a difficult day to get through and John handled it like he'd done every year since then - by getting wasted. John took a swig of the bottle of whiskey and then fumbled with his keys by the lock of the motel room door.
"Crap.." John mumbled as he dropped the keys and he then went down on his knees in his attempt to pick the keys back up.
John let out a little laugh which was weird because he couldn't come up with anything funny to be laughing about in the first place. Especially not since the little fall he had taken had smashed the bottom of the whiskey bottle and the contents of the bottle had spread out on the pavement. John cursed. He picked up his keys, grabbed the door knob to steady himself as he swayed a little, and he then to his big surprise found the door unlocked. John cursed again. Sam must have forgotten to lock the door after he got home from school today even though John had told his boys time and time again to remember to keep the door locked and keep a salt-line in place. John stumbled into the motel room and shut the door closed behind him before moving towards the kitchen.
"Sam!" He bellowed in a slightly slurred voice. "How many times have I told you to keep the door locked? Do I have to beat it into you to make it sink in?"
John sighed and winced a little by his own harsh words. Sam was probably asleep by now, but hell sometimes that boy just didn't listen and it made John so frustrated. John opened the fridge, shook his head to force his eyes to focus on the few contains and he then grabbed a beer. Before he could close the fridge door though, it was harshly slammed shut and the next second John felt someone grab him by his collar and pin him to the wall. He mentally kicked his own alcohol-dazed brain for messing with his hunter instincts before he focused on the furious face of his oldest son in front of him.
"Dean?" John asked with a confused expression. "What the hell? When did you.."
"Where the hell have you been?" Dean growled in a low and dangerous voice, cutting his dad off mid-sentence.
John felt the surprise from before slowly form into annoyance and anger.
"Let - me - go!" John said with emphasis.
"We have some things to talk about first, dad!" Dean said with eyes burning of anger.
"That was an order, boy!" John barked and Dean huffed.
"Oh yeah? And why should I listen to a thing coming out of your mouth?" Dean asked. "You promised me you would take good care of Sam while I was gone! And what do you do, huh? You leave him here on his own while you go out getting yourself pissed!"
"Sam is thirteen years old. He doesn't need to be babied all the time, Dean!" John said in a gruff voice. "It's only gonna make him weak! Soldiers need to…"
"He's not a soldier!" Dean interrupted. "He's your son for crying out loud! How about you start treating him like one!"
"Watch your tone with me, boy!" John growled and shoved Dean away from him. "And don't you dare try to teach me how to raise my own son!"
"Why shouldn't I do that?" Dean asked, rebelling against his dad in a way he'd never done before. "I'm the only one of us who has raised him so far."
John stared at his oldest son with a mix of anger, shock and sorrow, as Dean's words had hit a sore spot inside of him. John was very well aware of the fact that ever since he'd dedicated his life to seek revenge for what had happened to his Mary, he'd become less of a father to his sons and more like a drill sergeant. And while John had tried to fulfill his mission, Dean had been the one to take care of his youngest. Dean knew and understood Sam better than anyone - better than John would ever do - and the two of them shared a bond that was beyond incredible. Still, - truth or not, drunk or sober - John didn't tolerate the way the older brother was talking to him.
"What has gotten into you Dean? Have you forgotten who you're taking to, huh? I suggest you start talking to me with a little more respect!" John shouted. "And what's the big deal anyway? Sam has been alone on countless times before, he knows how to protect himself, how to use a weapon. I wouldn't have left this room yesterday if I wasn't sure of it."
"Hang on, did you say yesterday?" Dean asked with a frown. "Are you telling me Sam may have been laying in there sick and alone since sometime yesterday?"
"Sam is sick?" John asked and now it was his turn to frown, before Dean let out a frustrated sound.
"I got a call from Sam's school since he apparently hadn't been there today. I tried calling you, I tried calling Sam and when neither of you picked up I rushed back here! And thank God for that!" Dean exclaimed with anger in his voice.
"I didn't know Sam was sick, but you know why I couldn't just sit here and stew in my own thoughts." John tried to reason. "You know what day it is Dean."
"Yeah, and you know what it is dad? It's a bunch of crap!" Dean said.
"Excuse me?" John exclaimed incredulously.
"You think mom would have wanted you to honor her memory by getting pissed while your son was sick and alone at home?" Dean asked, well-knowing that he was getting into dangerous territory. "Where were you when Sammy vomited down himself, huh? Where were you when he soiled himself and was too weak to do anything about it? Where were you when his fever spiked? When Sam had been so alone and scared that he cried when he saw me? Where the hell where you dad? Huh? Mom would have been disappointed in you!"
John didn't know if it was the alcohol or his temper that got the better of him, but as soon as Dean had let out those last words, John's fist connected with his oldest son's jaw in a punch that almost sent the boy to the floor. Dean wasn't at all surprised when his dad punched him - he'd known it would happen from the second he'd started talking about his mom. But his dad had neglected his baby brother in a terrible way so Dean had wanted his words to hurt his dad. And they had.
"Nice dad. Thanks." Dean said and wiped away some blood from his lower lip with the back of his hand.
The two oldest Winchesters stared at each other in silence for a few moments, both willing the other one to make a move. In the end, it was Dean though who first broke eye contact and started walking away.
"I think you should sleep it off on the couch and then we'll talk tomorrow." Dean said.
"And what are you gonna do?" John asked in a tired voice.
"Me? I'm gonna be a good son - no, a good brother - and do as you've told me to do for as long as I can remember.." Dean said and looked at his dad with an unreadable expression on his face. "I'm gonna watch out for Sammy."
With those words, Dean left his father behind and made his way back to the bedroom. The room still smelled like vomit, but Dean had at least managed to throw the messed-up sheets of Sam's bed into the bathroom and had cleaned the sickness off the bed and floor before his dad had entered the motel room and all hell had broken loose. To his big relief, Sam was still peacefully asleep in Dean's bed. Dean put a hand on Sam's forehead to feel for a fever that was still present but had come down a notch, before he lay down next to his brother and arranged the covers over both of them. Sam unconsciously shifted closer to his big brother and let out a soft sigh as Dean wrapped an arm around the smaller boy. Dean closed his eyes and listened to Sam's steady breathing until he eventually drifted off to sleep as well.
Chapter 5
Sam woke up in the morning to find himself with his head on his big brother's chest and with Dean's arm wrapped protectively around him. Sam didn't remember much of what had happened the day before, but he remembered being very sick and he also remembered the fact that his brother had come home to make everything better. Sam felt completely safe and warm snuggled into Dean's side and he didn't want to move from that position ever again. His body decided differently though as he moments later had a coughing fit that had him gasping for breath which woke up his brother in an instant.
"Sam?" Dean asked with worry in his voice and started rubbing Sam's back while the younger boy got through the fit. "You're alright. Just breathe.."
When Sam's coughing fit had ended, Dean shifted into a sitting position against the headboard to get a little more comfortable which led Sam to believe Dean was about to walk away.
"Don't!" Sam gasped and clenched Dean's shirt. "Please don't leave me Dean, please!"
"Whoa whoa, take it easy Sam." Dean said and tried to calm his distressed brother who coughed a little more. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, okay?"
A sick Sam always meant a clingy Sam, Dean knew that. But Sam seemed to be even clingier than normally and Dean couldn't figure out whether it was because Sam had been really scared while being sick and alone, or if Sam was afraid he would be left alone once again. Either way, Dean gently squeezed Sam's neck and gave the kid a reassuring smile as Sam slowly nodded.
"How are you feeling?" Dean then asked his brother. "Still feeling nauseous?"
"No.." Sam said and fidgeted with the amulet hanging from Dean's neck. "My head hurts a little though."
"How bad?" Dean asked.
"Just a little.." Sam said without taking his eyes off the amulet.
"Sam.." Dean said in a warning tone.
"Fine.. A lot then.." Sam admitted with a sigh and rubbed at his tired eyes.
"Plus you're coughing.." Dean said while placing his hand on Sam's forehead. ".. and are still running a slight fever. You never do things halfway, huh Sammy?"
"Sorry.." Sam murmured.
"Don't apologize. It's not like it's your fault." Dean said and reached out for the Tylenol on the nightstand which he made Sam swallow down before tucking the blankets closer around him as well.
"Hey Dean..?" Sam asked after a few moments of silence.
"Yeah Sammy?" Dean responded.
"Dad home yet?" Sam asked and Dean's brows furrowed by the thought of his father.
"Yep." Was all Dean managed to say as some of the anger from the night before came back to him.
Sam felt the change in his brother and looked up to see the tension on Dean's face. He then noticed the fact that Dean's bottom lip was a little swollen and the skin right underneath it had a bluish color to it.
"What happened to your face?" Sam asked.
"Nothing." Dean said without looking down to meet his brother's eyes.
"But Dean.." Sam started when Dean cut him off.
"I said it was nothing Sam, alright?" Dean snapped. "Why do you always have to ask so many goddamn questions?"
Dean regretted the words right away. He knew those were the exact words their dad always used when Sam had been asking too many questions for John's liking. Dean was just so angry with his dad yet he knew he shouldn't have taken it out on Sam - who by the way still was sick and a bit emotional - and Dean felt even guiltier when Sam rolled away from him and turned his back against the older brother.
"Sammy, I'm sorry.." Dean said with a little sigh and when Sam didn't respond he continued. "I didn't mean to snap at you, okay? I'm sorry. I'm just mad at dad right now.."
Sam slowly turned back around and looked at Dean with a questioning expression.
"Why are you mad at dad?" Sam carefully asked, afraid Dean would snap at him again but too curious not to ask.
"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked. "Sam, dad left you here alone. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself to make sure you were alright."
"He didn't know I was sick, Dean.." Sam said in a soft voice.
"No, but that's the whole point. He should have known." Dean said. "He would've known if he'd just checked up on you as he was supposed to do, instead of getting drunk and not staggering home before late last night."
Dean absent-mindedly let a finger slide across his lower lip, and Sam's eyes widened when he suddenly realized what had happened to his brother.
"Dad did that?" Sam asked with a little gasp and Dean turned his head to see Sam staring at his lip.
Dean cursed a little on the inside for never being able to hide anything for his sometimes a little too smart little brother, before shrugging his shoulders.
"It's no big deal Sam, we just had a little argument." Dean said.
"But he hit you.." Sam stated with horror on his face.
"It was November the 2nd, dad was wasted and I provoked him." Dean said and once again tucked the blankets closer around the thirteen-year-old before pulling him close. "Don't worry about it, it didn't even hurt. Just use your energy on getting better, okay? Now, get some sleep bitch."
"Jerk.." Sam said but didn't feel like sleeping after what he'd just heard.
However, the Tylenol made him sleepy and Sam felt his eyelids getting heavier as Dean started carding a hand through his curly brown locks in a way that always managed to comfort the younger brother. Sam closed his eyes but before he drifted off to sleep, he had one more question to ask.
"Dean.. Will you and dad be okay?" Sam asked in a sleepy voice.
"We will be, Sammy." Dean promised. As long as he doesn't ever hurt you or neglect you this way again. "Now go to sleep before I knock you out!"
Sam smiled wryly and let out a soft sigh. Dean continued to card a hand through Sam's hair even as the kid's breath evened out which meant that Sam had fallen asleep. Dean still couldn't forget the state he'd found his baby brother in the day before and he wasn't sure he would ever completely trust his dad with Sam again, but the man was still his father and Dean knew he did the best he could. It didn't mean that Dean was ready to forgive him just yet - not for the punch to his face but for what had happened to Sam - but Dean knew that things eventually would get back to normal. Whatever normal meant when your last name was Winchester at least.
Sam mumbled a little in his sleep and clenched the fabric of Dean's shirt which made Dean smile affectionately. "Watch out for Sammy" was what his dad had always told him to do, and Dean would continue to do so no matter how old his brother got. That was what big brothers were supposed to do, and Dean decided he would be the most awesome big brother ever.
THE END