THE MADNESS OF A DELIRIOUS DEAN
Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean.
Dean's sick & delirious and thinks the motel room is trying to kill him, so Sam takes care of him.
"Sam, f-for the last time, I'm not sick," said the older Winchester as they walked into the motel room. He threw his duffel bag, trying to aim for the bed, but it ended up on the floor. Dean glared and sat on the closest bed.
Sam sighed, and threw his bag on the free bed. "Dean, you've been coughing and sneezing the past two days. You almost passed out earlier, that's why we stopped for the night. Will you just admit you're sick?"
"I'm not g-going to admit... some-something that ain't t-true. There's nothing wrong with me, I'm fine. End of story," said Dean, but the moment was ruined by a round of sneezing. "Huh-hitchsh-uh! HetchSHUH! Ishchoo!"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever you say, Dean. If you're not sick why did you just sneeze?"
"Du-Dunno. I'm allergic t-to the... bed?" suggested Dean with a shrug.
"You don't have any allergies. You sneezed because you're sick." Sam reached over to touch one of Dean's flushed cheeks. "Dean, you're hot."
Dean smirked slightly. "Thanks," he said with a shiver, holding his jacket closed against the sudden coldness.
"Lay down," Sam told him, before he stood and tried to lower Dean to the bed.
Dean shrugged the hands off him. "If y-you don't quit it with the mother-hen routine, you're g-going to be the one laying down in a minute, when I punch you in th-the face." He wiped his nose with his sleeve, making Sam grimace.
Sam folded his arms, and stood in-front of his stubborn brother.
"What now? Do you w-want a picture?"
"Dean. You. Are. Sick," said Sam slowly. "I'm calling Bobby."
"What t-the hell are you calling Bobby for? Are you go-going to tell on me?"
"No. I'm going to ask him if he can take the hunt, while you rest for a few days," Sam told him, getting his phone out of his pocket.
Dean stood, and stumbled slightly. "I do-don't need rest."
"You do. You can't even stand up without falling about like you're drunk," said Sam, dialling Bobby's number.
Dean shot forward to grab for the phone, but somehow ended up in a heap on the floor. "Er.. S-Sam? I think... I think the room moved."
Sam shook his head as he knelt beside his prone brother, and helped him sit up. "You probably fell because you're dizzy. Are you going to admit it now?" he asked, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder.
"A-Admit what? Th-The rooms trying to kill me," he whispered, looking around.
"Nobody is trying to kill you. You go a little weird when you're sick."
Dean pouted slightly, and folded his arms. "I'm n-not weird, you're weird," he said, looking like a big child.
"Get into bed," said Sam, trying to pull him up.
"I'm no-not going to... bed with y-you, you perv," said Dean, pulling his arm away.
"Oh for- Just get up, and lay down before I knock you down."
Dean looked confused. "Huh? What's th-the point in... in getting up to lay down ag-again?"
"Get in the bed, Dean," he said through gritted teeth.
"I don't wanna go to b-bed," the older Winchester whined, sounding like a five year old.
Sam tried not to smile. "I'll tell you what, get an early night... and if you're okay in the morning, we'll get started on the hunt. If you're sick, I'll call Bobby and we'll stay here for a couple of days."
"You ca-can't tell me what to do, I'm o-older... and better looking than you," said Dean, before launching into a sudden coughing fit.
Sam frowned, and started rubbing Dean's back when he doubled over with the force of the cough. "That doesn't sound too good."
Finally, Dean was able to sit up without feeling like he was coughing up a lung. "Sa-am, I think I'm sick," he wheezed.
"You think? What gave you that idea?" asked Sam with raised eyebrows, helping Dean up onto the bed. "I told you you were sick, but would you listen? Nooo."
"I'm... I'm n-not sick."
Sam sighed, and helped Dean take his boots off. "You said you were a minute ago. Stop acting like a child, and get some rest."
Dean sniffled, and laid down on his side, away from Sam. His eyes narrowed when he saw the bedside table between the beds. "Sam? T-The lamps staring at me."
"Dean, it's a lamp. It's not staring at you," he said, covering his brother up with the blanket. "It's the fever making you all weird."
"I'm not weird. I swear it's po-possessed. Oooh." Dean sat up, nearly knocking Sam over, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. "We need to do an ex-exorcism."
Sam's mouth opened and closed several times, before he answered. "Er... I'm not doing an exorcism on a lamp," he finally said. If there was one thing he hated, it was a sick feverish Dean. If he wasn't acting like a child, he was delirious.
"F-Fine. I'll do one." Dean tried to get out of bed, but Sam grabbed his wrists.
"Dean, get in the damn bed. The lamps not possessed, and the rooms not trying to kill you." Sam knelt on the bed, and lowered Dean gently so he was laying down.
"Sam," Dean growled, struggling and kicking. "Let me go."
Sam tried to pin him down, which made Dean struggle more. It wasn't long before the two Winchesters were wrestling in the middle of the bed.
"Dean, will you lay still before I handcuff you to the bed?"
"Didn't know y-you were that k-kinky, Sammy," Dean said with a smirk. "Sorry, but I don't... sw-swing that way. Y-" he was cut off by another cough. "Ugh," he moaned as the hacking coughs racked his body, making his back and chest hurt.
Sam frowned, and turned Dean onto his side. "Hey, hey. Take it easy," he soothed, rubbing his brother's heaving back. He sighed in relief when Dean stopped coughing, and relaxed slightly. "Dean, can you hear me?"
"Well... The only thing I can hear right now is a sh-shaggy-haired bitch whining in my ear... so yeah, I guess I can hear you."
Before Sam could reply, a car horn started blaring outside.
Dean gasped, shooting up in the bed. "My b-baby's calling for me," he said, struggling again.
"What the hell are you talking about? What are you doing?" asked Sam, trying to keep Dean in the bed.
Dean turned huge green eyes to his brother. "M-My car, Sam. She ne-needs me."
"For the love of-" said the younger Winchester. "Dean, it was probably someone a few doors up. The Impala's not alive, it's just a car."
"Shh. Sh-She'll hear you," whispered Dean, putting a shaking finger to Sam's lips. It took a couple of seconds, since there seemed to be two Sams in-front of him. "Sam, have you got a twin?"
"No. You're sick. Lay back down, and I'll get you some aspirin." Sam lowered Dean into the bed yet again, tightening his hold when the car horn started going again. "YEAH! YOU GOT A CAR! BIG DEAL! WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!" he suddenly yelled at the door.
Dean stared up at Sam with wide eyes. "She's in tr-trouble," he gasped, trying to get up again.
Sam closed his eyes, and silently counted to ten. "Dean, the Impala is fine." He put his hand on Dean's forehead, and flinched. "Dammit. You're really sick. You need to get some rest."
"For th-the last time... I'm not sick. I don't ne-need rest... I need my car."
Sam tightened his grip on his brother. "You're not going anywhere. The car's fine, and you will be too."
Dean's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Home," he whispered, shivering.
"Yeah, I guess she is our home," said Sam, running his fingers through Dean's sweat-soaked hair. "Please Dean, get some rest, okay?"
Dean finally nodded, and relaxed. He reached up to grab Sam's shirt, and pulled him close. "Do-Don't touch the... lamp," he whispered. "It'll k-kill you."
"Okay, Dean. I won't touch the lamp," Sam reassured his sick brother.
Dean smiled slightly at his brother, his eyes fluttering closed, as he finally gave in to sleep.
Sam watched Dean sleep for a few seconds, listening to the wheezing rattle of his breathing, before standing up to get a bowl of water and a cloth to help cool his brother down. He also got a glass of water and some aspirin, which he put beside the 'possessed' lamp for when Dean woke up.
"It's okay. It's only me," he whispered when Dean flinched as Sam ran the cloth over his face.
Sam didn't hear anything else from Dean until two in the morning when he heard a bang, and woke up to see his brother on the floor between the beds, wrestling with the lamp.
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