Supernatural DDM & BSM

Sick Girl (BSM)

*Age 10--Sam 14--Dean 18*

"Dean," you whined as your oldest brother tucked you back in bed again, "you promised." Dean gave you a grim look and touched your forehead once again. "Yes, but that was before you got a fever, coughs, chills, and wanting to vomit on me in Baby." Dean explained. You whined before letting out a rough set of coughs into the motel blanket. "Please Dean, I really want to go on the hunt! Dad even said I could!" You begged, voice starting to crack. "Sam! Tell Dean I can go!" You sat up as you cried to your other brother. "Sorry, sweetheart, I'm with Dean. Besides, you don't want to be sick on your first hunt." Sam told you. You laid your head down in defeat before letting out a sneeze then groaning from the pain in your chest.

John walked in the room and you sat up on the bed, "Dad," you were going to finished your sentence before you had another coughing fit. "How long has she been like this?" John asked. "Dad, I'm fine. I want to go on the hunt, please. I'll be good, I swear!" You begged, even though it seemed like he didn't even hear you and kept making eye contact with Sam and Dean. "About five days," Sam answered. "Dad-" That's when your body made you throw up , thankfully Dean kept the trash bin next to the bed. Dean quickly reacted and brought the bin in your lap. "That's the third time since she's been sick." Dean mentioned and ran his hand up and down your back. It didn't take long before you were in the back seat of the impala.

You sat in Dean's lap, a grocery bag in your hands and a child mask over your mouth, as John filled out paper work at the doctor's office. Many times over the hour wait, you shivered in Dean's lap or coughed phlegm into the bag. "Y/n Lamb," Your family stood at the false name. You whimpered, hating the thought of seeing a doctor. "They're going to help you, I promise." Dean whispered to you as you sat in a chair in the exam room.

The nurse came in the room, looking at your chart. "Someone has not been feeling good at all." She said with sympathy. It didn't take long for her to do the routine things: temperature (104.3 °F), blood pressure, etc. as you sat on the bed. "Dad," the nurse started talking to John (don't tell me I'm the only one that has had dr/nurse call them Mom/Dad) as she listened to you breathing, "does she have asthma?" She asked. "No," John stated. "Can you cough-" your body reacted before the nurse finished her question. "Definitely liquid in the lungs," she mentioned. "Does she cough up phlegm at all?" Dean answered, "Yes, yellow." He couldn't help himself. "Not infected, that's good. The doctor will be with you shortly.

"Am I going to die?" You asked your father and brothers. "No, Y/n, you're just sick." John stated, slightly annoyed. "I'm sorry, Dad." You whispered. You knew his annoyance was from not being able to go on a hunt. Your brothers gave you a sympathetic look before the doctor came in the room. 

He repeated some of the things that the nurse did before coming to the conclusion that you had pneumonia. He told John the medicine he prescribed to you and other precautions to have for you.

Dean picked you up as the doctor said it was okay for you to leave. "Are you sure I won't die? N-n-" "Pneumonia," "sounds something to die from." You stated with Sam pronouncing the proper word. Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. You coughed and whimpered into his shoulder then.

***

You pouted as your family left you at the motel. "I want these," John referred to the three glasses of water on the nightstand, "gone by the time we get back." He told you. "Yes, sir." You mumbled, about to fall asleep. "Feel better, sick girl." Dean kissed your warm forehead. You yawned and snuggled deeper in the bed. "Feel better, I'll see you later, sickly." Sam added and raised the blankets on you.

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