The madness of a delirious Dean

Bathtime

CHAPTER SEVEN

Sam & Bobby try & give Dean a cool bath.

Dean continued staring at Bobby with a confused expression for several minutes. "Hey Sam? Is... Yogi e-evil?"

Sam bit his lip to hide the smile which started to form. "No Dean, you're safe from any evil bears."

"Good." Dean sighed in relief, and turned slightly to the left where he saw the new lamp on the bedside table. His breathing hitched, and his green eyes widened in horror when he saw his 'enemy' back where he used to sit. "SAMMY! SA-SAMMY! LARRY'S BACK!" he yelled, struggling to get up.

"Dean," said Sam, rushing over to the bed, and holding him down gently. "Hey calm down. It's alright."

"N-NO, IT'S NOT! LARRY'S B-BACK! HE'S COME BA-BACK TO... TO KILL M-ME BECAUSE I KILLED HIM!" Dean yelled, even though it hurt his throat and made his chest ache. Sitting up, he buried his face in Sam's chest, his trembling arms going around Sam's waist. "Help me."

Sam sighed, and wrapped Dean in his arms. "Dean it's not Larry. It's..."

"W-We should've salted and... and burned him," cried Dean, gripping two handfuls of Sam's shirt. "Pl-please don't let him kill me, S-Sammy. I don't want to be k-killed by a lamp."

"Dean, it's not 'Larry the ghostly lamp', it's a normal lamp," Sam told him, running his hand up and down Dean's trembling back, trying to comfort him. "He's not going to hurt you." He looked up at Bobby, and saw the older man was struggling not to laugh.

Bobby removed the hand that was covering his face, and came closer to the bed, hand extended.

"G-Get away from me," Dean whispered when Bobby reached over to touch his forehead. "Sammy."

"I'm just checking yer temperature, keep yer frigging hair on," Bobby told him, gently placing his hand over Dean's face. "He needs a cool bath, Sam. He needs that temp down, he should've got one earlier before he got this bad."

"I know, but I didn't want to get him in the bath on my own, because he'd probably think I'm trying to kill him, or he'll end up drowning himself."

Bobby rolled his sleeves up. "Luckily I'm here to help. I'll get the bath started. Take his clothes off, and leave his boxers on."

Sam nodded, and pulled away slightly to look down at Dean. "How about we get you in a nice cold bath, huh? It'll make you feel a bit better."

Dean didn't answer, he was busy glaring at the lamp on the bedside table. "Grrrrrrr."

"Er... Dean? Hey, can you hear me?"

"The bath is running," announced Bobby, walking back into the room.

"Oh god, th-the bath ran away," Dean whispered to himself, still glaring at 'Larry'. "Your fa-fault."

Bobby stopped when he saw Dean sitting in Sam arms, growling and glaring at the lamp beside the bed. "Er... Has he completely lost it, or what?"

"Don't ask. He thinks the lamp he shot has come back to haunt him."

"Riiiiight. Lamps can't come back from the dead, Sam."

"Well, I know that. Try explaining it to deranged Dean here," said Sam, gesturing at his sick sibling. "You know as well as I do that he's completely insane when he's sick like this."

"I'LL K-K-KILL YOU!" Dean suddenly yelled, launching for the lamp, his arms held out as if he wanted to strangle it.

"Whoa," said Sam surprised at the outburst, holding onto Dean, stroking his hair to calm him down. "What the hell?"

At first Dean struggled, but soon sank back into Sam's arms. "Y-You're the... the li-little bitch," he said to the lamp. "Die."

Bobby knelt beside the bed. "Hey Winchester," he called, snapping his fingers in-front of Dean's scowling face to get his attention. "Look at me. WINCHESTER!"

Dean flinched, and turned to the older man. "Yogi?"

"Yeah sure. We need to get ya in the bath, come on." He grabbed Dean's ankles, and tugged gently. "Sam, get him up. We'll undress him in the bathroom. He needs a bath now."

"Alright," he said, placing his hands under Dean's arms, and carefully standing from the bed. "Come on Dean."

As soon as the two had a hold of him, Dean immediately started struggling. "LET ME G-G-GO, YOGI! I DON'T H-HAVE A D-DAMN PICNIC BASKET!" he yelled, kicking his legs out.

"Calm down, boy. We're trying to help ya," said Bobby, tightening his grip on Dean's legs after he almost dropped him.

"G-GET OFF ME!" cried Dean, looking around the motel room. "S-Sammy is g-going to kick your ass, you fugly be-bear. I'll take your hat off, and shove it u-up your hairy ass."

Bobby's eyebrows shot up, and Sam burst out laughing at the look on his face. "WHOA!" yelled Bobby, dropping one of Dean's legs when he continued struggling. "Dammit Dean, quit it." He glared at a still laughing Sam. "Grow up, ya frigging moron."

"Sorry," said Sam, trying to regain his composure.

The two men finally managed to carry the delirious young man to the bathroom, and sat him on the toilet seat. "Right, get his clothes off, the bath should be done." He gently let go of Dean's legs, and walked over to the bath, which was almost half full.

"Hey Dean, I'm here." Sam sat in-front of his brother so Dean could see him, and started undressing him.

Dean sat staring at Sam with a confused childlike expression. "W-Whass goin' on?"

"You have a fever, we're trying to get it down," Sam told Dean, taking his t-shirt off. "You're getting a cold bath."

"Th-The bath came back?" asked Dean with a hopeful expression on his pale face.

"Er... Yeah, it came back a minute ago," Sam told him, knowing the best way to deal with delirious Dean was to agree with him.

"H-He ran away, Sammy."

"I know, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to bath Dean Winchester, so he came running back."

Dean grinned, but the smile suddenly dropped. "I-I'm not gay." He fidgeted on the toilet seat, his body twisting away from Sam's hands.

"Stay still." Sam finally got the shirt over Dean's head, and started pulling his trousers off next.

"S-Stop taking my clothes o-off," said Dean, struggling again. "Stop it. L-Larry will see me na-naked. Lamps don't have... men's things. H-He'll try and take mine."

"For gods sake," muttered Bobby, turning off the taps, and walking back to the two men. "I'll hold the nutcase still." He knelt beside the toilet, and held tightly to Dean's burning body. "Stay still, son."

As the older man held him in his arms, Dean's struggles intensified. "Get off m-me."

Sam grabbed the top of Dean's pants, and pulled them down. Dean's legs started flailing again, so Sam accidentally grabbed Dean's boxers and pulled them down too. "Oops," he said, holding the pants and underwear in his hands. "Oh no." He slowly looked up, and was greeted by a naked Dean being restrained by Bobby.

Dean struggled wildly against Bobby, elbowing him in the face. "Ha," he cried triumphantly as he broke free. He kicked his leg, and hit Sam in the face, knocking him back.

"OW!" yelled Sam, rubbing his face. "Dean, what the hell?"

"D-Don't come near me," said Dean, grabbing his boxers, and holding them up like a slingshot. "I'll hu-hurt you."

"Dean, threatening us with your underwear isn't exactly terrifying," said Sam, sitting up.

Dean's eyes widened when the two men got up. "NO!" he yelled, turning and running around the motel room, completely naked.

"GET BACK HERE, YA FRIGGING LUNATIC!" yelled Bobby, running out of the bathroom, and chasing the naked Dean.

"N-NO! You're going to drown me, and sa-sacrifice me to Larry," said Dean over his shoulder, wrapping the boxers around his head. "B-But you'll have to k-kill me first." He knocked everything over as he passed, trying to keep the other two away. When he made it to the small kitchen, he knocked the chairs over behind him to prevent Sam and Bobby from catching him.

"OW!" yelled Sam, hitting his foot on one of the chair legs.

Dean searched through the kitchen drawers for a weapon. "Ah-ha." He grinned and held up a fork, backing up until he hit the counter. "S-Stay back."

Sam burst out laughing again at the sight of Dean naked, boxer shorts on his head, and holding up a fork to threaten them both.

"Freddy and S-Stevie are on my side."

"Who the hell are Freddy and Stevie?" asked a bewildered Bobby.

"Stevie's the TV, and apparently the fork is named Freddy," Sam told him through his laughter. "He's named the furniture. And they're either his friends, or trying to kill him... apparently."

While Sam was busy introducing Bobby to Dean's 'friends', the sick Winchester headed over to the small fridge, and found the eggs. "Oooh. Eggies." He opened the carton, and turned around. "A-ATTACK!" he yelled, throwing an egg straight in Bobby's face,

Sam doubled over with laughter, even as Bobby started glaring at him with egg dripping down his face.

Dean continued throwing his weapons, and ran for the door.

"DEAN!" yelled Sam when he finally stopped laughing at seeing his naked brother trying to get out of the room.

"OH NO YA DON'T!" yelled Bobby, running to the door.

Dean managed to get out again, and ran out into the parking lot, still firing eggs at the two men.

"Oh crap," said Sam, speeding up. He ducked as eggs went flying in his direction, and tackled Dean to the ground. "For gods sake, Dean. What the hell are you doing?"

Dean frantically waved the fork in-front of him, panicking at being held down.

"Will you quit it?" he said, grabbing the fork from Dean's shaking hand before he scratched his eyes out.

"S-Sammy," Dean whimpered, looking up at Sam with a wounded expression. "You fell on me. W-Why did you fall on me? Was I bad?"

"I'm trying to stop you from running around the parking lot as naked as the day you were born," Sam told him, as he shifted his position, so he was kneeling at Dean's side.

Bobby appeared and grabbed Dean's legs again. "Sam, get his arms. We need to get the nutcase cooled down before he terrorises the motel residents with his nakedness."

Sam nodded, put his arms around Dean, and stood up. "Come on, Rambo. Let's get you in the nice cool bath."

This time, carrying Dean to the bathroom was easier, since his strength seemed to have left his sick body, leaving him weakened. "S-S'my?" he whimpered, his head falling back against Sam's chest. "Why doesn't Y-Yogi like me? H-He's looking at me like dinner."

"Stop going insane, and he might like you," Sam told him, before him and Bobby reached the bath, and started lowering Dean into the cool water.

Dean screamed when the cold water made contact with his hot skin. "HE-HELP ME!" He tried to escape, but Sam and Bobby tightened their grips until his body was fully in the water.

"It's alright, we've got you," soothed Sam, keeping his arm around Dean's shoulders to keep him upright, so he didn't end up drowning himself. He took Dean's boxers off his head, and threw them to the other side of the bathroom.

Dean struggled as if his life depended on it, but Sam wasn't letting him go. "Dean, chill out."

"L-L-Lemme o-out," said Dean through chattering teeth. After a minute of struggling, he was too weak to fight anymore and sank into Sam's arms.

Bobby dipped the washcloth in the water, and started cooling the sick young man down. "It's okay, son."

Dean whimpered in pain. "Hurts, S'my."

"Shh. It's alright big brother. I won't let anyone hurt you," Sam told him in a soothing voice, gently wiping Dean's burning face. "Try and stay calm. Yog- I mean Bobby's not going to hurt you."

Dean frowned in discomfort as violent shivers racked his body. "C-C-Cold."

"We know, but it's going to help you."

"HUTCHshoo!" sneezed Dean suddenly, his slippery body almost falling out of Sam's grasp. "Huhh…PTSHCH! KTSHSHchuh!"

"Whoa. I got you."

After the sneezing fit ended, Dean looked up at Sam, blinking rapidly so he could focus on just one Sam instead of the three that danced in-front of him. "W-We g-g-g-go see th-the... the king n-now?"

"Er... No dude. We're not going to see the king of the potato people yet. He's still asleep."

"Kay. I-I don't li-like to f-f-fly anyway," he said, sniffling and wiping his nose. "W-We don't h-have a ma-magic c-c-c-carpet."

"I know," said Sam, trying his best not to laugh. "When he wakes up, we'll drive there in the Impala, okay?"

"Kay." Tears swam in Dean's eyes as they fluttered closed, his body relaxing into Sam's arms which tightened around him to keep him upright. "S'my, am I-I g-g-going to di-die?" he asked, shivering violently.

Sam's breath caught in his throat, and he lowered his head so he could look into Dean's face. "Hey look at me." He waited until Dean looked up at him. "Of course you're not going to die, you're just sick. Me and Bobby will make you better."

"B-B-But Larry..."

"If it'll make you feel better, I'll put... Larry somewhere else, okay?" Sam ignored Bobby when he started chuckling.

"Yogi's la-laughing at m-m-me," whispered Dean, staring at the 'bear' through his half-lidded eyes. "Why's h-h-he laughing?"

"Because... er... he's your friend, and you make him laugh," Sam explained. "But if you're good, he'll give you a nice special bear hug later, okay?"

Dean's face lit up like a kid at Christmas. "Re-Really? T-The bear's m-m-my friend?"

"Yeah. He's a nice friendly bear." Sam grinned, looking up to see Bobby shaking his head, and rolling his eyes.

A coughing fit suddenly ripped through Dean, making him moan with pain in his throat and chest. He tried to curl in on himself, turning his hot face into Sam's chest, his left hand clutching his own chest while he coughed his lungs out.

After the coughing fit finally subsided, Dean's face scrunched up in misery. "Sa-am, I don't feel go-good."

"I know. It's alright," soothed Sam, rubbing Dean's chest, trying to help.

Dean nodded, and closed his eyes again. After a few seconds, he fell asleep.

"The last time I had a naked Winchester running around at bathtime was when ya were about three... me and Dean had to chase ya around the whole frigging house. Ya kept getting excited about having a doodle, and had to show everyone."

Sam's cheeks reddened slightly, and he cleared his throat. "You're not going to tell anyone about that, are you?"

Bobby grinned evilly. "Oh, I have plenty of embarrassing stories, so ya may want to think again about telling everyone about the things Dean's been up to. Tell them, and they may hear about that time when ya tried to bite yer dads nose off, thinking he was a clown."

Sam groaned. "Thanks for reminding me."

"Yer welcome," said Bobby, still grinning. He grabbed Dean's left arm, and wiped it with the sponge. Bathing a naked Dean didn't really bother him, since he had bathed the Winchesters when they were kids, and they were left at his house.

Sam watched Bobby cool Dean's torso down. He was really glad Dean was asleep right now, otherwise he would start screaming and kicking again at the sight of a 'bear' washing his naked body.

Bobby hummed while he gently ran the sponge over Dean's shoulders and neck. "Aw," he said quietly, his expression softening as he looked up to see Dean sleeping peacefully in Sam's arms, the rattle of his breathing was the only sound he made.

"Shh, it's alright," said Sam when Dean flinched as the cool water touched his burning neck.

Fifteen minutes later, Bobby put the sponge down. "Leave him in here for another minute. Hopefully this will cool him down. Where are the towels?"

Sam nodded at the other side of the small bathroom. Bobby thanked him, and walked over to grab two of them. "Are ya ready?"

"Yeah. At least it'll be easier with him out cold," said Sam, standing up carefully with Dean in his arms. "Wrap it around him."

Bobby nodded, and carefully put the bigger towel around Dean's naked body. When Dean was covered, he fondly ruffled his hair, and smiled. "The poor kid."

"Yeah, poor him," said Sam sarcastically, carrying Dean back to bed. "Bobby, pass me a fresh pair of boxers from Dean's bag. He'll hopefully be a bit cooler in just his underwear."

"Sure." Bobby got Dean's bag, and riffled through it until he found a clean pair of boxers. "Here."

"Thanks," said Sam as he dried Dean, and covered him in a blanket. "Thank god he passed out." He kept Dean covered, and put the clean boxers on under the blanket, so he didn't see any more of Dean's nakedness. "There we go."

Bobby picked up the first-aid kit and rummaged through it until he found the thermometer. "Here, see how much it's gone down."

Sam took the thermometer and placed it in Dean's mouth. He waited for a minute, before taking it out, and sighed when he saw the reading. "It's only gone down a little bit."

"At least it's gone down," said Bobby with a shrug. "We'll keep giving him aspirin every few hours, and continue cooling him down. Every day or two, we'll give him more cold baths."

"Hopefully it won't be as bad as it was this time," said Sam, unplugging the lamp, and placing it under the bed, so Dean didn't declare war on it again when he woke up. "It usually takes a few days for him to recover when he's like this, but at least he won't be trying to kill the lamp again." Before he sat down, he grabbed the washcloth, and ran it down Dean's still burning face. "Thanks for coming, Bobby."

"Yer welcome. Why don't ya get some rest too?"

"I can't," Sam replied, yawning. "He needs me."

"Sam, the reason ya called me was to help with Dean, and so ya could get some rest."

Sam looked down at Dean, and ran his fingers gently down his flushed cheek. "Promise you'll wake me if he needs me?"

"I promise."

"Okay, but only because I'm exhausted." Sam handed the cloth over to the older man, and laid down next to Dean. "You're going to be alright," he whispered, laying his head on Dean's shoulder. "'Night Dean."

Dean slept on, snoring softly, making snuffly noises as he breathed.

Bobby smiled again as he watched Sam fall asleep right beside his sick brother. He sat in the chair Sam had been using, and continued the job Sam had trusted him with.

TBC

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