Adam's Revenge •~Supernatural~•

19. Problems

•~MARIE~•

The sight before me was not pleasant. I rocked on my feet in the doorway of the bathroom, keeping my distance as I observed Sam puking into the toilet that sat snugly between the shower and the small sink. He sat in front of it with his long legs folded underneath him, and his arms braced on both sides of the toilet seat. It was plain to see that he'd been sitting there a long time. Even as I watched, Sam heaved into the bowl again. I winced in sympathy as Dean knelt beside him, his hand lightly resting on Sam's back.

"Take your time, Sammy. Ain't nobody rushing you," Dean muttered gently, his voice barely audible from where I stood.

I teetered awkwardly in the background, unsure if I should rush in and help somehow. Once again the same feeling overcame me as it did when I sat in the shotgun seat in the Impala; it was as if I were looking in on something private, like I was an intruder and I didn't really belong here with them. Observing the care and attention that Dean gave during Sam's moment of weakness made me realize that I may never again have someone to care for me like they cared for each other. My brother was gone -living it up as some powerful know-all demon- and my mother and father were dead. The friends I'd come to know in Florida were ones I didn't know if I could face again.

"I'm fine," Sam groaned, snapping my thoughts back to the situation at hand.

"Yeah, you look fine," Dean scoffed, sarcasm lacing his tone.

Despite the stubborn glare Sam shot in Dean's direction, I had to agree with what Dean was implying. Sam's face was pale and covered in a thin sheet of sweat that made his dark hair plaster to his forehead and to the back of his neck. When he looked up and shakily glanced between Dean and I, I noticed his eyes were red-rimmed. When he saw our concerned expressions his pallid face reddened with embarrassment. I glanced away as what little color that had graced his features drained away and he leaned over the toilet bowl again and vomited. In all honesty, the sound was harder to deal with than the sight was. Also, if I was being honest with myself, he had looked far more healthier when he was out cold than he did now. 

It was painful to see my older half-brother like this.

"Hey, Marie, can you grab me a towel by the other sink?" Dean asked hastily as Sam pulled away from the toilet, looking determined to stand up without the support of his brother.

I nodded my head quickly and squeezed out of the doorway and picked up a clean white towel from the large sink that sat just outside the bathroom.

"Easy tiger. Don't over do it, alright?" Dean was saying as I walked back in the bathroom. He had his hands resting on both of Sam's shoulders, steadying him as he swayed.

Dean gave me a grateful smile as he took the towel from my hands and promptly started to wipe at Sam's mouth. Sam pulled away from him weakly, but Dean kept a firm grip on his shoulder to keep him from toppling over.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam protested again, finally able to extract himself from Dean's ministrations.

"Uh-huh, and I'm the Queen of England."

Sam shot Dean another glare as he pushed even farther away from him. Sam swayed a little bit and braced his hand against the wall. Dean shot his arm out to steady him but stopped and retracted it back so he could cross it with his other one across his chest.