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29. Came back worse/round two
A week later, Sam woke up feeling like he’d been run over by a train. His body ached, his head was pounding, and his nose was stuffy. He pushed himself up on one elbow and coughed into the other one.
“Jeez, Sam. Need a drink?” Dean asked from where he was sitting on his own bed. He frowned when he looked over at Sam. “You okay?”
Sam nodded, rubbing at his eyes. “Think I’m sick.”
“You just got over that random fever, what do you mean you’re sick? Again?” Dean sat on the edge of the bed and narrowed his eyes while he scrutinized Sam. He was pale again, just as pale as he’d been when he’d almost passed out on the side of the road. His cheeks were rosy and his nose was red.
“Feel like crap,” Sam said. He pushed himself up to lean against the headboard. He coughed again and let his head thunk back against the wood.
Dean got up and grabbed his keys from the table. “I’ll be right back. Sit tight.”
Sam wondered where Dean was going for all of three seconds before he decided that it wasn’t worth wasting his little brain power on. Dean came back shortly after carrying the med kit.
“Okay, hit me. What’s going on?” Dean set the bag on his bed and unzipped it, digging though until he found the thermometer. He handed it over to Sam and waited until it got a reading before sitting down, knees practically touching Sam’s bed. “Fever. What else?”
Sam cleared his throat. “My throat is kinda sore. My nose is plugged. Headache, body aches.” He winced and reached up to touch his ear. “My ear hurts.”
Dean perked up at that. Sam was prone to ear infections as a kid. Ear infections were easy. Dean could handle that. “Alright. I’ll see where the closest walk-in clinic is.” He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and did some googling. “This says there’s one about half an hour from here. You wanna go now, or hang out for a little bit?”
Sam sighed. “I don’t wanna go to the clinic.” He rubbed at his head and sniffled miserably.
“Well, ear infections don’t just go away. You know what they feel like better than I do. Tell me what you wanna do.” Dean looked over his brother and felt his eyebrows crease with worry. It was highly unusual for Sam to get sick, let alone twice in a row like this. “I’m worried because of that fever you were running last week.”
“I guess we might as well get it over with,” Sam said, coughing into his elbow. He didn’t like it when Dean looked worried about him. It made him feel uneasy, like he needed to fix the situation. He really did feel like crap. Sighing, he rolled out of bed and into the bathroom for a shower.
After getting some antibiotics in his system, Sam felt a little better. Dean drove them back to the motel they’d been staying in and Sam crawled back into his bed with a box of tissues and a warm compress on his ear.
“You need anything?” Dean asked, feeling Sam’s forehead with his palm, his fingers going into Sam’s hair and scratching a little.
“No, I’m okay.” Sam’s eyes slid closed and he practically purred at the feeling of Dean’s fingers in his hair.
“I’m gonna run to the store. Get some rest.” Dean said softly. He gathered up his coat and keys and left the motel. At the store, he gathered up all of Sam’s favorite sick day things; tomato and rice soup, ginger tea, honey, cherry flavored cough drops, and yellow Gatorade. He would have gotten some popsicles, too, but there wasn’t a freezer in the motel room.
When he returned, Sam hadn’t moved. Dean stashed away the goodies and sat himself down at the table with his own lunch to start looking for a new hunt. An hour later, Sam stirred. He coughed, hard enough that he had to sit up, and groped the nightstand for a glass of water.
“I gotcha,” Dean said, jumping up from the table. He quickly crossed the room and held the glass up to Sam’s lips.
Sam drank the glass down and sighed. “Thanks, De.”
Dean felt Sam’s forehead. “You’re cooler. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” Sam found that he wasn’t even stretching the truth when he said that. He was tired, his throat was still sore, and his nose was still stuffy, but his ear felt a million times better, and his head felt clearer.
“Are you hungry? I got you some soup, tea, Gatorade, and cough drops. What sounds appetizing?” Dean straightened the blankets on Sam’s bed and went into the corner where there was a hotplate and a sink.
“I could go for some soup and some Gatorade.” Sam propped himself up on his pillows and watched Dean heat up his lunch. “Thanks, Dean.”
“Hey, it’s what I’m here for, right?” Dean smiled at Sam over his shoulder and went back to cooking lunch, always happy to take care of his little brother.