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Dean shook Sam's shoulder. "Come on, get up."
Sam didn't get up. He did so much as throwing a pillow at Dean's chest. He buried his face in the covers. He mumbled, "Bite me."
"Come on, Sam."
"Look, I feel like crap. I just wanna lay here." Sam said quietly.
Dean checked Sam's forehead, sighing gently. He felt a fever from Sam, knowing he wouldn't be suitable for a hunt. He walked over to the fridge and got a water , grabbing some pills from the counter too. He sat by Sam's side, handing him a pill and sitting the water nearby. "It might help with your fever."
"And I might puke it up." Sam said back. He sat up anyway and swallowed it, drinking some water. He looked at Dean. "Dad still wants me to hunt. I have to."
"I'm gonna drive us up to Bobby's. I'll take care of you there and he'll finish the hunt." Dean said reassuringly, helping Sam lay down so he could rest. He covered Sam up gently, looking down at him.
Sam got himself comfortable. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah." ________ "You want me to do what?"
"Finish the hunt Dad assigned for us. Sam's fever is getting higher and higher every minute. Please?" Dean pleaded. He knew Bobby cared deeply for him and Sam.
"Fine. Get on up here." Bobby chuckled a bit.
Dean hung up and quietly got their bags together and into the car. After he had everything, he walked over to Sam and kneeled down. He nudged his knee. "Sam, wake up. Let's get you in the car."
"What?" Sam mumbled.
"We're going to Bobby's. Come on." Dean gave him a soft smile.
Sam pulled himself up, throwing on a jacket and trudging behind Dean to the car. He got in the passenger seat and slept while Dean went to check them out of the motel. He started on the 3 hour drive to South Dakota.
When he got to Bobby's , he was exhausted. He didn't like driving long distances, especially with a sick Sammy. It worried him how deep Sam had slept on the drive down. He hoped he wasn't too sick.
Dean got out of the car, leaving Sam in the car for now. He got all of their bags and walked up to Bobby's doorstep, sighing and knocking on the door. He smiled at Bobby when he opened it. "Hey."
Bobby let him in, watching as Dean slammed the bags down on the couch. "Where's your brother?"
"Knocked out in the car." Dean replied, stepping over to Bobby. "He slept the whole way down."
"Does he still have a fever?" Bobby questioned.
"Probably. I'm gonna go get him inside. I'll lay him down in here with a cool cloth on his head. He should heal up. Hopefully. Right?" Dean said , getting antsy.
"Your brother will be fine. I'll get the guest room ready." Bobby moved their bags upstairs. Dean felt a little better, heading out to the impala to get Sam woken up.
He was surprised to see Sam was already up. His eyes took in the sight of Sam dry heaving on the pavement, down on his knees. He kneeled down, rubbing Sam's back. "Did you throw up?"
"Just bile." Sam said shakily. He was sweating. "The cold air feels good."
"Yeah?" Dean said gently, rubbing soothing circles in the center of Sam's back. It always made Sam feel better when he was sick.
"Yeah. Can we go in?" Sam said. Dean nodded and helped Sam stand up. They slowly made their way to Bobby's, and upstairs to the bedroom. He laid Sam down. He was gonna give Sam some medicine before John started to call him so he stepped out.
Bobby stepped in a few minutes later, laying a cool cloth on Sam's forehead.
Sam sighed in relief. "Thanks, Uncle Bobby."
"You're welcome, boy." Bobby smiled a bit. He covered Sam up halfway and stayed with him as he fell asleep.
That night, they ordered pizza. Sam ate soup because of his weak stomach. He went straight to bed afterwards but Dean and Bobby stayed up to talk about the case.
Dean sat beside Bobby, looking at lore with him. "Sam was close to figuring out the location of the spirit. But then he got sick. I have his notes." He passed them over to Bobby and watched as he read them, nodding along. "Well?"
"I think I know where it is. I'll go in the morning. It shouldn't take long. If Sam gets really bad, take him to the hospital. It's only about 10 minutes away." Bobby advised, standing up and cleaning the counters from dinner.
Dean got up. "Alright. I'm gonna head up to bed." ________ Sam woke up in the middle of the night. His eyes took a long time to focus in the dark. He looked to his right at the digital clock, squinting his eyes to read the time.
2:36 a.m.
Sam yawned tiredly. He suddenly felt a burning feeling in his throat. His stomach felt queasy so he carefully got up and stepped out of the guest room, quietly walking down the hall to the bathroom. He closed the door and got down in front of the toilet. He dry heaved for about 30 minutes before he heard a knock on the door. He heard Dean's voice on the other side but his head was aching and he could barely focus.
"Sammy? I'm gonna open the door." Dean came in and immediately kneeled down, inspecting Sam's face closely. "Hey... What's wrong?"
"I'm gonna get sick." Sam said shakily, breathing heavily. He gagged hardly, spitting up some stuff. He groaned. "I hate being sick."
"I know. You can get sick. It's fine." Dean said, stroking his back gently. He stayed by Sam's side as Sam got sick. Once Sam got finished, Dean looked at him. "You wanna try keeping some medicine down?"
"Yeah." Sam said, resting his forehead on the toilet seat.
Dean lifted his head up. "Don't do that. That's gross."
Sam kept his head up, taking the medicine and drinking some water. "I feel better."
"Yeah?" Dean said , helping Sam stand up. He held Sam as he staggered a bit.
"Mhm." Sam chuckled. "I wanna go back to sleep."
Dean helped Sam back into bed. Sam quickly dozed back off. Dean placed a hand on Sam's forehead. He felt that the fever was dying down. He sighed in relief, glad Sam was feeling a little better.
