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Dean was shivering
He was curled up in bed, wrapped in every blanket in his vicinity, yet he was still freezing.
He whined, shifting to curl tighter into himself, clutching his blankets tightly. He sniffled and thats what made his realise he was crying. He sniffled again, snuggling tighter into the blankets.
His head hurt.
He had it pressed into the very edge of his pillow, his eyes squeezed shut as his temples throbbed insistently.
His shoulders shook as he sobbed a little, hunching them forward to try hold in his warmth.
Eventually he couldn't stop the little voice pressing against the base of his throat.
He sobbed again, choking on the voice as it shook itself free.
"Mama" he whined, muffled by his blankets and his sobbing. "Mama" he whined again.
He braved a look over at the door, but nothing had changed. He was still alone in his room, shivering and in pain.
He cried a little more, sobbing as he slumped his throbbing head back onto his pillow.
His breath hitched. Tears streaked down his face, dripping over his nose and onto the bedding below him.
A flash sat heavy behind his eyes. The blood. The cold hue of flesh coating the familiar features before him. He knew it wasn't real...at least he thought he did.
A wail escaped him. He curled up further as a loud sob racked through his throat to echo though his cold room.
He snivelled, sucking in a breath.
"Mama" he whined again, sobbing as he did. He'd never felt more like a big baby.
___
His sobbing managed to die down to a quiet snivel, his shivering intensifying.
He swallowed the painful lump in his throat as he sniffled, causing his head to ache a little more. Whining, he snuggled further into his blankets. They were wet, and in reality it was his own sweat. But behind his closed eyes he saw blood
The silence was disturbed by the creaking of the door slowly opening, Mary poking a worry face in.
"Dean?" She said gently, eyes scanning over the shivering form on the bed. "You ok sweetheart?" he asked.
Dean couldn't bring himself to move, so he just whined. Shoulders shaking as he sobbed into the cold bed.
Mary's brow furrowed "oh Dean" he cooed, approaching the bed and sitting on the foot of it, hand coming up to rest on her son's shivering shoulder.
"What's wrong? Tell me what's hurting you" she prompted, running a warm hand over his blanket covered body.
Dean sobbed again, whining in response to his mother's concern.
"Dean, baby" she began, rubbing his arm a little harder, leaning forward to enforce gentle pressure on his shivering form. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me. Come on" she encouraged.
"I-I..." He croaked, eyes opening a little and gazing glassily at Mary. He sniffled, breath hitching before he tried again. "I-I'm so cold Mama" he whimpered, shivering harder to reinforce his complaint.
"Oh, sweetheart" Mary fretted, resting a gentle hand on Dean's forehead. "Oh god, you're burning up" she noted quietly, smoothing some sweaty hair off of his forehead.
Dean whined.
She patted his arm. "Stay right there baby, I'll be right back. Mama will be right back".
She got up and Dean whined, shivering at the absence of her comforting hand.
Leaving the door slightly ajar, Mary rushed down the hall. When she passed by the library with urgency, it made John look up.
"Mary?" He called, getting up from his seat and following her. Sam glanced up from his book, brow furrowed but staying put for now.
"Mary?" John asked again, successfully catching up and now walking beside her. "Is something wrong?"
Mary sighed, cutting John off to step into the med bay, John lingered by the door as Mary rummaged around.
"Dean's gotten worse; his fever has likely gone up, he's shivering and he may be delirious" she explained, gathering up everything she needed.
John's brow furrowed and he nodded "ok" he breathed "delirious how?"
Mary stopped and looked up at John. "He's calling out for 'Mama'" she replied "he's crying a lot" she returned to gathering supplies.
John sighed and shrugged a little, though his face still portrayed concern.
"Could be worse" he breathed.
"I suppose" Mary picked up the small box where she accumulated all the things she figured she might need and moved past John out the door.
John let her pass before following behind at her same pace.
"His fever was like 102 last time we took it, if it's gotten too much higher, he'll probably need to go to hospital. Or at the very least a cold bath" he stated, reaching to the take the thermometer from the box of items.
"I know" Mary breathed, brow furrowed.
Sam looked back up again as his parents passed the library with urgency, now with a box of stuff in tow.
Sam's brow furrowed further as he stared at the now empty doorway speculating. Eventually he got up and followed them down the hall.
____
Mary sets the box down on the floor next to the bedside table, taking a seat back on the bed beside Dean's shivering form. Dean whined as the movement shook the bed, earning a gently shushing as Mary placed her hand back on his shoulder.
John circled to the other side of the bed and sat in the empty space left my his curled up son.
"Ok" he whispered, gently palming the side of Dean's face. Dean whined a little, his eyes opening just a bit. "Hey" John said, leaning in closer "we need to take you temperature buddy".
Dean whined again, shaking his head a little and snuggling into his moistened pillow, rubbing more sweat into it.
Mary sighed, rubbing Dean's arm "come on sweetheart" she encouraged.
Dean groaned and lifted his face from the pillow, eyes squinted and pouting.
"Mouth open" John ordered, holding the thermometer out to him. Dean huffed and opened his mouth just enough for John to slip the metal under his tongue. He bit down slightly to hold it in place as he waited for the beep.
When the beep came, John took the thermometer back and looked at the screen.
He breathed in and looked up at Mary with a worried gaze.
Mary shared the same look with a hint of confusion.
"What is it?" She asked quietly, still running a hand over Dean's arm.
"102.5" he said with a heavy sigh.
Mary shuddered a sigh, nodding and looking away.
"If it doesn't come down, we're gonna have a problem" John stood up and came back around the bed, placing the thermometer back in the box.
When he straightened up, it was the first time any noticed Sam in the doorway.
John just met his eyes, both men silently communicating their shared concern.
Mary sighed and reached into the box.
"He didn't throw up the last dose of medicine, so hopefully he'll keep a second down as well" she said as she fiddled with the box of Panadol.
"Yeah, but it didn't work" Sam noted, still with both hands pressed against the door frame as he leaned forward into the room. "His fever didn't just not go down, it actively went up" he added, gesturing open palmed at his brother.
Mary hesitated, glancing down at the meds in her lap.
John sighed heavily, rubbing his stubbled as he turned back to Dean.
"We could probably give him something stronger" he suggested, crossing his arms.
Sam glanced at his brothers shivering form "Sh-should we risk him throwing it up?" He asked "I mean, he's been in his room since we got home, what if he did throw up but just didn't do anything about it. What if the meds didn't get to work?" Sam speculated.
His parents went quiet, both looking at Dean with worried expressions.
John finally sighed "we'll give him stronger meds and keep a close eye on him. If he throws them up then...we'll try something else" he decided, looking at Mary for asrruence.
Mary met his eyes, both still for a moment before she nodded and muttered a quiet 'ok' in response, before looking back down at Dean.
John nodded back and turned away "I'll see what I can find" he said, before approaching the door.
Sam stepped back and to the side to let him out before returning to the doorway, watching as Mary quietly shushing the whines and groans of his brother.
_______
John came walking back in with purpose carrying both a small medicine bottle and a water bottle. He barely gave Sam time to move out of the way as he strolled quickly by and over to Dean's side.
"Sure that stuff is safe? Where did you find that?" Sam asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"In the med bay. I've looked it all over, it's fine" John opened the bottle and tipped out a few pills.
Once he put it down Sam snatched it up and looked at it closely. It at least wasn't yet expired, which was shocking.
John turned to Dean "ok, come on, come on buddy. I need you to sit up" he said, reaching a hand under Dean's back.
Dean turned his head away and whined, one hand now clutching onto Mary's wrist while the tried to push John away.
"Dean" John's voice was a little harsher as he tried again.
"No!" Dean cried, shaking his head and pushing John again, nearly knocking the pills from John's hand.
John bite his tongue and huffed. He wanted to tell Dean to stop acting like a baby. But he knew his son couldn't help it, so he sighed and placed the pills down. "Come on" he said, grunting a little as he wrapped both arms around Dean's shoulders and forced his upper half off the mattress. Dean whined, head slamming into John's shoulder as he started crying.
Sam's brow furrowed, Dean's teary eyes had opened and now could look over at him. He looked so scared. So scared and so young.
Dean's breath hitched, his eyes actually focusing on Sam for a moment. A sob lodged itself into his throat as his eyes dashed around at the imaginary blood coating both the walls and his brother's clothes.
Dean sobbed a little before he choked out a strangled scream. He pulled back from John, hands shooting up to sit in fists against his still throbbing temples.
He's hyperventilating and crying. He can feel the blood all over him.
John and Mary perked up instantly, both reaching out for Dean and shushing him with gentle reassurance.
Sam was frozen by the door, one hand clutched onto the doorframe beside him as he watched his brother cry and shake, their parents trying to calm him.
John eventually managed to pull Dean close, pressing his son's face into his shoulder and holding in there no matter how much he flailed and cried. Mary shuffled closer and placed a hand on Dean's back, shushing him as she pressed lightly and proceeded with the rubbing motion along his shoulder blades and spine.
John bite his lip as Dean continued to wail into his shoulder. He'd stopped fighting, now having his hands clutched tightly onto the fabric of John's shirt.
John muttered pleading nothingness under his breath, shaking his head and shutting his teary eyes. Mary's lip quivered as she too tried and failed to quell Dean's wails. She glanced up at John to see him also tearing, somewhat envious of the better job he was doing at holding them back, feeling one slip from her eye and slide down her cheek.
Dean's cries died down eventually, leaving him sniffling against John's shirt, breathing hitching every now and then and a few sobs still escaping him. John rubbing his hand heavily, scrunching up the wet fabric of Dean's shirt.
"Hey buddy" he whispered "can you take some pills for me?" he asked, voice wavering a little.
Mary leaned in, hand gently placed on the back of her son's shoulder "it'll make you feel better" she promised.
Dean's gaze snapped to her for a moment, tears still slipping from his eyes.
John took the moment of distraction to reach for the pills, biting his lip as he took hold of Dean's jaw.
Mary's eyes widened the second it happened "John-".
John had already slipped the pills into Dean's mouth and was now reaching for the water. He shushed Dean's whining as he tried to open the bottle one handed.
He poured water past Dean's lips, and he was forced to swallow, coughing and gasping as he finally pulled away from John.
Mary took hold of his and patted his back gingerly, eyes shooting up to glare at John.
John was panting a little, watching Dean gasp as Mary held him. He sighed and shrugged at her, shaking his head. "He needed to take them. You're welcome" he huffed.
Mary just turned away, face softening as she focused back on Dean, who seemed to have finally caught his breath but was beginning to cry again.
"It's ok, it's ok baby" Mary mumbled "Come on, come on lay down. Lay down baby" she placed a hand on his back and the other on his shoulder and lowered him back down to his pillow.
Dean whined, head thumping against the moistened pillow.
"Mama...mama I'm cold" he croaked, sniffling.
"I know, I know baby" she whispered, stroking his sweaty hair.
John hesitantly reached out and took hold of one of Dean's hands, squeezing it tight.
Sam bit his quivering lip, finally unable to take it anymore and turning for the door. He stepped quickly out of the room and made it halfway down the hall before the first tear fell, a hand flew up to cover his mouth as a strangled sob forced its way out.
_____________
It was hours later by the time Mary left Dean's room, now being the only one left besides Dean himself. She'd kept a constant vigil on him until her felt significantly cooler to the touch and finally stopped whining and mumbling and drifted into a proper sleep.
Needless to say, Mary was exhausted. She rubbed her eyes as she wandered out the door and down the hall. Heading nowhere in particular, yet she found herself drifted towards the library, pausing in the doorway and looking in. She spotted John sitting on the armchair in the corner. He was hunched forward, chin resting on his hand, fingers curled up and covering his lips as he gazed towards the doorway leading to the war room. His gaze was glassy and unfocused, he clearly wasn't looking at anything, just simply staring.
Mary sighed, feeling the tension from earlier seep back into her, but this time as dread and regret, straining against her heart and lungs and sitting heavy in her stomach. Her hand lingered on the doorframe as she slowly stepped in, finally sliding off when she made it out of reach. She approached the chair silently and hesitantly, scanning over John's hunched form.
"I figured you'd head to bed or something" she crocked, breaking the silence.
John didn't look up.
Mary sighed heavily, looking away for a moment.
"Or um, go clean guns or something" she muttered.
A brief fight had led to Mary snapping for John to leave while she leaned protectively over Dean, as it his own father was a threat.
John hadn't argued back, simply pausing, letting the tense silence settle thickly in the room before he released Dean's hand slowly as he stood up. His face was unreadable as he stormed out, not sparing a single glance at Mary.
John sighed, lowering his hand and turning towards Mary but not looking up at her.
"How is he?" He asked quietly, trying to keep the accusation of her leaving him out of his tone.
Mary looked down "he's better. I hope" she replied, her gaze shifted up, learning that John's was still on the floor. "He's not burning up anymore, and he seems peaceful. He's sleeping" she added.
John nodded shortly, turning away again.
Mary took a deep breath, fiddling with her own fingers before her hands found the pockets of her jeans. She shifted on her heels as her eyes found the floor again.
"So um..." she muttered "I guess the medicine worked then".
The silence fell heavily, leaving them awkwardly looking away from each other. Exhausted and trapped in their own thoughts. Mary sighed, eyes hesitantly glancing back at her husband. The words circled and circled her head before she finally said them.
"Why are you out here?" She asked "you're not really the type to sit around".
John put his arm back down, letting it dangle off the side of the armrest. His head tilted forward against his chest, tired eyes falling shut.
They sat in silence for a few seconds more before John looked up.
He shrugged "I couldn't do anything else knowing he was like that" he admitted, shaking his head.
Mary nodded absentmindedly and slowly turned away, looking at the empty doorway to the war room.
"You look tired" John noted, somewhat playfully.
Mary chuckled drily but light-heartedly, a smile playing on her face as she turned back to him.
"Well, you do too" she bite back, shifting on her heels, stepping slightly closer.
John smiled back, expression warm but somewhat saddened at the eyes as he gazed up at her.
Their eye contact conveyed a silent 'sorry', the tension now lifted and the air softening against the combined exhaustion between to two.
_______
Sam, not realising he'd stumbled his way out of his room, beginning to wander around the quiet bunker- Dean must have stopped crying.
Walking past the library, he catches a glimpse of his parents. He paused in the doorway to gaze in for a closer look.
John was sitting in the large armchair in the corner with his head lulled to the side and his mouth slightly agape. Mary was sat half on his lap and half in the space between his legs with her head thrown back against John's chest, a similar expression on her face.
Sam smiled a little, but a part of him worried. He turned away from the scene and made his way to Dean's room. The door had been left ajar and there was no noise coming from it.
His breath hitched a little as he rested a hand on the handle and pushed it open, eyes immediately snapping to the bed as he poked in.
Dean was on his back, one hand up beside his head and curled into a loose fist, looking kinda like a sleeping baby. Dean's face was less flushed and held a peaceful expression across it as his chest rose and fell steadily.
Sam continued in with care, pushing the door behind him but not letting it shut completely. He approached the bed and gently sat at the foot of it, his eyes staying locked onto his brothers face.
Because he was so focused on Dean's face, it only took a few miniscule twitches for Sam to notice something was wrong. His brow furrowed and he perked up, shuffling closer and leaning forward to place the back of his hand on his brother's forehead. He wasn't warm anymore, it was obvious his fever had broke.
Then what was disturbing him?
Sam began to panic. Was he in pain? Where? Was he still cold? Should he get another blanket for him?
Dean's face scrunched up again, his teeth clenching and a sob leaving him. He tilted his head back a little, his face contorted in an aching like expression.
Sam panicked even more. Was he having a nightmare? He wondered.
Sam placed his hand on Dean's cheek, patting it gently.
"Hey. Hey" he whispered "Dean?" He patted Dean's cheek again.
Dean's whined, pulling his face away from Sam's hand, yet it didn't look intentional.
"Dean?" Sam fretted, resting a hand on his brother's shoulder.
Dean's breath hitched, and suddenly he gasped, his eyes shooting open already watering with tears.
They were frantic and unfocused as they glanced around the room above him. His breathing slowed as he familiarised himself with his environment, the glassy look in his eyes slowly fading.
Sam rubbed Dean's shoulder gently, leaning closer to try get his attention. He said his name, but it still took a few moments for Dean's eyes to drift over to him, and then another few moments longer for them to focus.
Dean tilted his head "Sammy?" He croaked, voice raspy from sleep and crying, and a little nasally.
Sam smiled weakly.
"Hey" he whispered, bringing a hand up to Dean's hair.
"How're feeling? You scared us pretty bad" he said, running his fingers through the moist spikes of Dean's hair.
Dean groaned a little, eyes squinting shut as he tilted his head away from Sam's hand. Sam curled his fingers over his palm and slowly pulled his hand back, resting in stiffly in his lap, still looming over his brother.
"You ok?" he asked "you're not in pain or anything are you?" the younger fretted, brow furrowed as he scanned Dean's features.
Dean huffed, turning away so that his face was flush against the pillow.
"'m fine" he slurred "stop with your bloody puppy dog eyes".
Sam sighed "you sure? Cause you made us all worry" He reiterated, running a hand over his own thigh. He took a long pause, looking down at his lap. He smiled a little, releasing a weak chuckle as he looked back up.
"I found Mum and Dad asleep in the library. You must have tired them out" he teased.
Sam laughed again as Dean rolled his eyes. Dean groaned, pushing one arm into the bed and waving the other in a gesture for Sam to back up. Sam hesitantly did so, hovering close by as Dean strained to sit up. Dean faulted for a moment, and Sam stepped forward with his arms out, Dean immediately swatted him away.
"Keep your hands off me, will ya? I'm fine" Dean grumbled, managing to shuffle into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He shut his eyes and hung his head, feeling dizzy.
"Dude, you ok? You have just come off a high fever" Sam worried, hands still hovering near his brother.
Dean took a few deep but shaky breaths before he nodded shallowly.
"Yeah, I'm good" he croaked before clearing his throat a little, his eyes still closed.
Sam went quiet, standing before Dean with a worried expression still on his face but finally lowering his hovering hands and letting them drop back to his side. Dean's heavy breathing continued to worry him though, observing how his brother had scrunched up his face and seemed to refuse opening his eyes. But he didn't say anything, not wanting to push too hard on his clearly still fragile brother.
Dean's breath shook, his head rose a little, but his eyes still didn't open. "Sammy?" His voice wavered, lip quivering a little. He could feel the wetness still on his face, it wasn't warm, but he still couldn't shake the vision of blood.
"Yeah?" Sam whispered back, leaning in a little and ready to help.
Dean nodded, taking in a sharp breath as he let his head hand again.
"Dean?" Sam questioned "you ok?"
Dean nodded weakly. He knew it wasn't real. He knew it.
He reached out and fumbled to find his brother's arm.
Sam gave a slight noise of protest but let him take it reluctantly. He felt Dean's fingers find his pulse, pressing heavily against it. The worry building up in Sam's gut made said pulse beat faster.
"Dean?" He fretted "what's wrong?" He knelt down to try meet Deans eyes, though they were still closed.
Dean sighed shakily, concentrated on the pulse beneath his fingers as he tried to rid his mind of the offending red ooze that was apparently coating everything. Dean cleared his throat, licking his lips and forcing his eyes to open slightly. He clenched his other hand into a fist, letting his short nails dig into his rough palm, trying to will the blood away.
He managed a smile and slowly met Sam's eyes, taking in the worry as he let the silence hang for a moment.
"I'm ok" he said quietly, part of it getting caught it his throat, which obviously made it even less convincing.
He could tell Sam didn't believe him, his worry didn't falter.
And although he didn't believe him, Sam sighed heavily and have a quick nod. His head hung down for a moment, and he muttered a reply under his breath.
He took a deep breath as he looked back up and nodded again.
"Ok" he choked out, gazing into his brother's eyes with his worried gaze still very much present.
Dean forced a smile again, pealing his hand away from Sam's wrist and bringing it up to pat his shoulder. Sam tried to give a faux smile back, but he was too tired. Letting it fall immediately before looking away completely, his hand resting on Dean's knee.