Takes place in 1996

It was another awful day for Sam Winchester; it was his first day at yet another school. The thirteen-year-old waits by his locker for his older brother. Today wasn't a good day for Dean Winchester either; he felt very sluggish and tired, and his head was pounding. The boys were staying at a motel while their dad was on a hunt the next town over. Dean walks slowly down the halls to where Sam is waiting for him.

"Come on, Sammy, let's go." Dean said while clearing his throat.

"Okay." replied Sam.

During their walk to the motel, Sam began to notice Dean's behavior. Dean was pale with dark circles under his eyes, his breathing was ragged and wheezy, and he had a cough that grew more frequent. Sam knew what was going on...Dean was sick. Dean unlocks the door to their motel room.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked walking inside.

"I'm...fine..." Dean groans flopping on his bed.

"S-Sammy...stop spinning the room...please." he whimpered.

"Uhg, Dean." Sam sighed rolling his eyes.

He walks up to Dean and feels his forehead.

"Jeeze! Dean!" Sam said in response to how warm his brother felt.

Sam gets the first-aid kit and takes the thermometer out; Dean's temp was 102.6 degrees.

"Holy crap, Dean, you're sick." said Sam.

He hands his older brother some ibuprofen and water.

"It'll bring your fever down, take it." Sam told Dean.

"Don't...t-tell me...what to d-do...I'm...I'm in charge." Dean replied mumbling and grumbling.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Please take it though, I want you to get better." Sam said calmly.

Dean takes the medicine and lays down on his back. Sam covers him with a blanket and puts a wet cloth on his forehead. Sam sits on the bed until Dean falls asleep. Sam contemplated whether or not to call his dad or Bobby. He decided not to call anyone unless it gets any worse.

"Besides, I'm thirteen, I can handle this." Sam said to himself.

Dean suddenly has a short coughing fit. His little brother is immediately at his side with a glass of water.

"Drink some of this and go back to sleep." said Sam.

Dean takes a few sips of water then lays back down, Sam takes the cloth that was on Dean's forehead and re-wets it at the sink. While at the sink, he heard thunder from outside. Then it began to rain very hard.

"Looks like it's going to be one heck of a storm." Sam commented as he laid the fresh cloth on Dean's head.

Sam takes the blankets off his bed and puts it on the ill seventeen-year-old when he started to shiver and shake. The storm grew worse and worse; the wind blew hard, the lightning flashed bright as day, the thunder was booming.

"Aw man, hope Dad ain't driving in this." Sam mumbled to himself.

The youngest Winchester sits on the edge of his brother's bed listening to his breathing. It was shallow and heavy. A couple hours had passed since Sam last checked Dean's temperature. Looking at the thermometer's result, Sam frowns deeply. Dean's fever didn't improve at all, it got worse, much worse; it was 103 degrees.

"Should I take him to a hospital...nah, I can't take him out in this weather." Sam conversed with himself.

Sam takes all the blankets off of Dean, then begins to take Dean's shirt off. Dean whines and whimpers, but is too weak to fight with his little brother.

"Sorry, Dean, but I have to get your temperature down." Sam said tossing Dean's sweat-drenched t-shirt to the side.

He grabs a few ice-packs and places them on Dean's body to cool his burning hot skin. Dean complains and cries at the coldness. Sam didn't like it, but he knew it would help Dean with his fever. Out of nowhere, the power goes out and the room becomes pitch black.

"Great, just...great." Sam said sarcastically.

Sam grabs a flashlight and turns it on.

"S-Saaammyyy." groans Dean.

"What is it, Dean? What do you need?" Sam asked him.

"It...hurts." Dean said.

"What hurts, Dean? You got to tell me so I can help you." replied Sam.

Dean couldn't find the strength to speak, so with a shaking hand he points to his stomach.

"It's your stomach that hurts, right? Do you need to...puke or something? (Please let it be puke and not the other end, please let it be puke and not the other end)." Sam questioned, saying the last part in his head.

"Uhnnn...pu--" moaned Dean before closing his mouth tight.

"Oh! Uh, try to hold it in for a sec." said Sam.

He quickly gets the trashcan and puts Dean into a sitting position with his back leaning against the headboard; then Dean empties his stomach into the trashcan. When Dean was finished throwing up, Sam dumps the can into the toilet; it took him a lot not to gag. Sam was able to get Dean's temperature to go down to 100.3 degrees, he takes the ice-packs off and covers Dean with two blankets.

"Do you want to try to eat something?" Sam asked.

Dean shakes his head 'no'.

"Okay, just sleep, Dean." said Sam.

He stays awake and watches Dean sleep, monitoring his fever; he also kept the trashcan close by. All through the stormy night, Dean's fever went up and down; mostly running very high. Dean's sleeping was more like a semi-conscious fever-daze. His breathing developed into loud, heavy wheezes; making Sam very worried. Sam tries calling his dad to ask him what he should do about Dean's breathing. Though, the phone lines were out due to the storm.

"S-Sammy!...Sam! S-Sam!...h-help." Dean yelps while thrashing in his sleep.

Sam rubs his shoulder and chest to comfort him.

"Shhh, Dean, it's only a nightmare. You're safe, I'm safe." Sam said with a calm and gentle tone.

Sam sighs deeply, it was going to be a long night for the both of them. He checks his brother's forehead again.

"Dang it! He's burning again." gruffed Sam frustrated.

Sam lays a cold cloth back on Dean's head. The next morning, Dean wakes up coughing. The fist thing he sees is his brother curled up in a ball at the foot of the bed, his bed.

"Sam." Dean said hoarsely.

Sam jolts up instantly.

"Huh? Dean, what is it? Do you need anything?" Sam asked yawning.

"Sam, were you up all night?" Dean asked.

Sam nods then puts his hand on Dean's forehead.

"Welp, you still have a fever, but at least it's not too high." said Sam.

Dean takes some medicine for his fever.

"Sammy, I'm hungry." said Dean.

"Well, whatever I make is going to be cold; cause the power's still out." replied Sam.

Dean eats a cold bowl of soup that Sam hands to him. Unfortunately, it didn't stay down; for most of the day Dean couldn't keep anything down. A couple hours of not-throwing-up had passed and Dean was resting in his bed with Sam close by.

"Hey, Sammy...thanks for taking care of me." Dean said to Sam.

"No problem, bro." said Sam.

"Come and give your big bro a hug." said Dean with his arms open wide.

"Is your fever making you delirious?" Sam chuckled.

The hug lasts for five seconds before Sam's head is forced into Dean's armpit.

"Smell my sweaty pits, haha!" laughed Dean.

Sam doesn't have a chance to protest before Dean suddenly lets him go and begins coughing horribly. It sounded like he was coughing up a lung; Sam pats Dean's back as he coughed. The coughing made Dean exhausted, so he flops back down on his pillow and breathes heavily to catch his breath.

"You alright?" Sam asked.

"Yeah...just...just over did it...that's all." Dean replied breathy.

"Keep resting, Dean, it'll make you feel better." said Sam.

"Yes, sir, nurse-Sam." Dean grinned.

"Jerk." laughed Sam.

"B**ch." laughed Dean.

Dean sticks his tongue out at his little brother, Sam retaliates. Later on, at night, the power finally comes back on. Now Sam was able to make him and Dean a hot meal, of which Dean was able to keep down. Sam was checking Dean's temperature when their dad walked in.

"What's going on, is Dean sick?" John asked sitting next to Sam.

"Yeah, he's been sick since yesterday afternoon." Sam answered.

Sam takes the thermometer out and reads it.

"Yes! Finally, your fever broke, Dean." Sam cheered.

"Wow, Sam, I'm surprised that you were able to take care of Dean for this long. I'm proud of you, Son." said John ruffling Sam's hair.

Sam tells his dad about everything that happened while Dean was sick. Sam yawns loudly and rubs his eyes.

"You look worn out, kid." John said.

"He stayed up all night taking care of me." Dean told John.

Sam yawns again.

"Go get some sleep, Sammy, I'll take over from here." said John.

"Don't call me 'Sammy', it's Sam." argued Sam.

"You didn't say anything when I called you 'Sammy'." commented Dean.

"I let it slide only because you were sick." replied Sam.

Dean laughed then coughed a little, he was definitely getting better.

"Dad's right, Sam. You need to sleep, you deserve it." said Dean.

Sam crawls into the other bed and covers himself with a blanket.

"Night, Dad. Night, Dean." yawned Sam.

"Night, Sam." Dean and John replied.

Sam falls asleep quickly and sleeps peacefully. He felt very happy with himself at how grown-up he had been for the past 32 hours.