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This was not how Sam wanted to spend his Friday night. Not that he ever really got to pick where he spent most of his time, but being in Bobby's panic room with a group of demons outside waiting to tear him, Dean, and Bobby to shreds was certainly not it. Now all the group of them could do was wait it out. They couldn't stay there forever, but they had run out of supplies to fight the demons off. Looks like hiding was their best and only option.
The only problem was that Sam was sick. He wasn't deathly sick or anything, but he did have a nasty head cold. It was accompanied by sinus pressure, headache, coughs, chills, fever, and of course lots and lots of sneezing. Sneezing also brought on sniffling and Sam was trying to keep his sickness as quiet as possible. He was taught never to show weakness, even to Dean from their father. He knew that Dean wouldn't judge him for it and neither would Bobby, but that didn't mean that Sam wanted to make a spectacle of himself.
"Really, Bobby, nothing?"
"What are you looking for? A book on alternative measures to warding off demons probably isn't down there. Thanks to you two idgits the incarnation is upstairs," Bobby snapped as he walked over to Dean's side.
Dean spiraled around and glared at Bobby. "I didn't do it on purpose," Dean pointed out as he pointed in Sam's direction. "I was trying to get someone's butt in here."
Sam knew that Dean was talking about him, but he didn't look up from his position on the floor, shivering through his flannel shirt while his head was pressed against the cool wall. It helped with the building sinus pressure-he thought-but he was still uncomfortable. Not to mention the near constant tickle he felt growing in the depths of his nose.
"Sam, you still with us," Dean asked as he straightened and felt the pull of his back from sitting in one position for far too long.
"Huh'Hitchsh! Huh'Hitcsh! Huh'Hitcshsh!"
Sam moaned in the aftermath of his nasal outburst. He felt the congestion try to rush from his nostrils as he feebly sniffed to hold it back. His eyes drifted close slowly as his mouth slightly parted to help aid his breathing.
He heard footsteps as Dean came over and kneeled down. He stretched out a hand and brushed back Sam's hair from his forehead. He felt the heat rush through his fingertips. He sighed as he sat beside him. "How are you feeling, kiddo?"
"I'b find," answered Sam with a small sniff of embarrassment.
Dean nodded slowly, trying not to laugh. "Yeah you really sound like it, Sneezy," he teased lightly before he nudged him with his shoulder. "You need to blow your nose?"
"I said I'b find," Sam repeated as he wrinkled his nose against anymore tickles.
Dean patted Sam's shoulder before he stood and walked over to Bobby, leaving Sam to sit up with his open mouth breathing as he struggled to get comfortable. It appeared that it wasn't helping whatsoever.
"Do you have anything for Sam," Dean asked in a whisper.
"For Sam what," Bobby asked.
Dean hushed him before he pulled Bobby to the corner before Sam could look up. "Shhh, Bobby. Don't say it too loud. Sam gets beyond embarrassed when he's sick. I just want to know if you have anything for colds in here?"
Bobby looked at Dean like he had sprouted two heads. "Do you ever remember me being sick? I don't think I have any cold medicine in the entire house? Maybe from when you two stayed here when you were young, but that's about it."
Dean ran his fingers through his hair. He took in a heavy breath as he looked around. "There's got to be at least a few things to make him feel better. Like a blanket or something for his throat, anything!”
Bobby scratched the back of his neck. He picked up a book before as he rummaged around. "Feel free to look, but I doubt it," he called back gruffly.
Dean rolled his eyes as he looked around. He lifted books and shifted some supplies on a nearby table before finally managing to find a small sheet that had been on the bed when Sam had had his demon blood detox. It was extremely thin, but it was better than nothing. He bundled it almost into a ball as he walked over to Sam. He kneeled down and touched his brother's shoulder gently.
Sam opened his feverish eyes slowly, watching asDean undid the blanket. "Lean forward." Sam obeyed. Dean threw the sheet around his shoulders and bundled him up to the best of his ability. "I know that it's not ideal, but it's all we got, Sammy."
"It's alright. It's not bad," Sam croaked, painfully lifting a hand to rub at his throat.
Dean watched Sam for a bit before he noticed a thin stream of mucus trickling from his nose. Dean waited for Sam to sniff it back, or even rub at his nose with his hand, but he didn't. He continued to breathe loudly through his mouth, a small crackle seeming to come deep within his chest. Dean couldn’t take the brotherly instincts practically screaming at him as stood up again. Apparently Sam wasn't going to make this easy on him.
Dean came back over to Bobby's side while Bobby went through most his books, looking for an answer to the demon problem outside. Bobby raised an eyebrow as Dean sat down across from him. "Now what?"
"I know that you don't have tissues, but how about paper towels or something," Dean asked hopefully.
Bobby leaned back before he gave Dean a pointed look. "What do you think?"
"Right," Dean grumbled as he rose to his feet. He walked back over to Sam, noticing a sheen of sweat coating his forehead. Dean sat down once more beside him, grunting with the effort to get comfortable. Sure enough, Sam hadn't cleaned himself up yet and Dean couldn't guess as to why not. He chalked it up to Sam's fever being too high as he stretched out a hand and grabbed the edge of the sheet around Sam’s shoulders. He gently rubbed it under Sam's nose to clean it up.
Sam drew away in surprise as he swiveled to look at Dean. "Whadt are you doing," he asked, his eyes wide in bewilderment.
"You weren't going to do it, Sammy," Dean pointed out as he reached forward in an attempt to finish wiping Sam’s nose.
Sam drew back and lifted the blanket up to his own nose and rubbed it along the underside of his nostrils. "I don't deed your help,” he seethed in frustration, but the hoarseness meant there was no bite in his words.
"And you don't need to blow your nose. See, we can both lie," joked Dean as he nudged Sam playfully with his elbow. "For now just use the sheet. There's nothing else in here and we can always wash it.”
Sam's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He looked away from his brother as Dean huffed in frustration. "Don't do that. Don't go all bitch on me now." He stretched out and grabbed Sam's chin and swiveled it over to face him. "Look at me. Talk to me. What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Deadn," replied Sam.
Dean sighed, knowing how Sam could be when sick. So, he lifted the sheet and placed it over Sam's nose. "Here," he whispered as he took Sam's hand and placed it over the blanket on his nose. "I'll go over there, but if I do will you please just listen to me?"
Sam said nothing, but Dean was was sure that Sam would comply. He ignored his brother's pissy attitude before he rose to his feet and walked over to Bobby. He slumped across from him and Bobby looked up from his research once more.
"I'll humor you so that you'll stop staring at me. Why do you look like someone just shot your dog," asked Bobby.
"Sam with his damn 'I'm embarrassed for anyone to be around me when I'm sick, even my brother who has been caring for me since I was born' routine," answered Dean with a frown.
"I didn't know that that was a complex," Bobby chuckled as he turned the page in the book that he was reading nonchalantly. "What do you want me to do about it?"
The sound of soft blowing filled the echoey panic room, but Dean did his best to ignore it. He wanted to look back and make sure that his brother was okay, yet he knew how Sam would react. He forced himself to keep his sight and attention on Bobby. "Nothing. I just can't be around him. He gets embarrassed and then he'll almost freeze. It's probably worse in here since he can't escape us. He's embarrassed I guess more than normal."
Bobby looked over Dean's shoulder before he shoved a book at Dean. Dean barely caught it before as he spun it around to read the title. "What are you doing?"
"You get to take care of your brother now," Bobby ordered without argument.
Dean tilted his head. "He doesn't want me there, Bobby. He-"
"He needs his brother. He just doesn't know it yet. He's too damn proud to admit it. Take the high road, why don't you," Bobby suggested.
Dean sighed heavily as he took the book and stood up from the table. He walked over to Sam as quietly as he could. Sam had been sniffling madly to control the congestion, but as soon as Dean came close, Sam stopped. He looked away from Sam before he slumped down besides Sam and pressed his shoulder against Sam's as he tried to stop his shivering.
"Sam, I think that we should talk," Dean suggested.
"Huh'hitxxx! Huh'Hitxhxx! Huh'Hitxhhxx!"
"No, no," Dean chided as he watched Sam pinch his nose between his thumb and forefinger to stifle the sneeze, head bowed forward and long hair slightly obscuring his face. He grabbed Sam's hand and pulled it away from his nose. "What are you doing?"
"Cut it out," Sam snapped. He pulled away from Dean and Dean rolled his eyes. This was going to be difficult.
"I just don't want you to hurt yourself, Sammy. Besides, you don't have to stifle your sneezes to be quiet, I promise," Dean tried to reassure him.
Sam forced himself to look over to Dean. He sniffled, embarrassed at the sound as he pressed a hand against the side of his throbbing nose. "Dean, I don't feel well," Sam confessed, his eyes round and glazed.
"I thought so," Dean told him with a small laugh. "But, let's see what we can do about making you feel better with what little things we have here, but you have to talk to me. You have to tell me what you need and you can't be embarrassed. I can't read your mind. Isn't that more your game?"
Sam forced a smile at his brother’s lame joke. "Yeah, I guess." He suddenly wrinkled his nose and drew away, grumbling as his breath hitched.
"Don't you dare stifle," ordered Dean as he pointed a finger at Sam. "You have that sheet for a reason, use it!"
"Huh'HicshshSh! Huh'HtchshshHSh! Huh'HutshsHSh!"
"Bless you!"
Sam looked up from where he had ducked his head into his thin sheet. He drew backwards and sniffled, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in discomfort. He pulled back as more congestion ran down from his nostrils and settled on his upper lip. He forced himself to rub his nose with a the sheet clasped tightly in his fist, still sniffling.
"Feeling any less embarrassed," Dean inquired.
Sam looked upward through watery eyes before he shook his head. "No," he rasped. He saw Dean's face fall before he looked back to his brother. "But, I'm glad you're here. I just wish that we weren't so close and trapped in here."
"You and me both. We have the world's angriest librarian over there," Dean joked as he pointed at Bobby.
That caused Sam to laugh, bringing on a couple painful sounding coughs with Dean’s eyes lighting in amusement. He watched his brother shiver under the thing sheet, his entire body trembling. Dean sighed loudly and draped an arm around his shoulders. Sam tried to pull away, but Dean shook his head. "Don't do that. That sheet is paper thin and I'm the hottest thing in here."
Sam relaxed a bit against Dean. "I hate this."
"I know, but it won't be long. Bobby will figure this out, he always does. We just have to make sure that you're as taken care of as you can be," Dean sympathized.
Sam suddenly pulled away and Dean saw Sam duck his head into the sheet so far away that Dean could only see the tuft of his hair.
"Huh'HutcsHShsh! Huh'HtcHShsh!"
"Bless ya," Dean whispered as Sam returned, sniffling quietly. Mucus still ran from his nostrils. Amusement showed on Dean’s face when he realized how annoyed Sam was becoming with himself. Sam reluctantly wiped it away, but he still wouldn't face Dean.
"You know, if you would blow your nose you wouldn't sniffle so much. Sniffling also makes you sneeze. I should know," Dean told him as he rubbed his brother’s shoulders through the sheet.
Sam let out a cough before he forced himself to lean into Dean for warmth and support. Dean didn't seem to mind, but he had to get Sam over this whole embarrassed of showing weakness thing. So, he placed the sheet over his nose and clamped his nose hard. Sam tried to pull away, but Dean wasn't having it. "Blow."
"I don't want to," Sam complained.
"I'm not asking you. Blow or I won't let go," Dean ordered as he grasped it harder.
Sam rolled his eyes before he complied. His snot seeped through the sheet, but Dean didn't say anything. Anything that would make Sam more embarrassed was not to be said. Now was not the time for teasing and Dean knew it. He was going to have to just let Sam work it out.
"You don't ever, ever have to be embarrassed in front of me," Dean whispered in his ear as he almost rocked him back and forth. "Please don't push me away. I'm not going anywhere, if that's your fear."
Sam shook his head. "I'm not supposed to show weakness."
"I'm not Dad. I won't punish you for not being 100% on your game if you're sick. You just need to let me take care of you, Bobby too. No more hiding or sniffling in private. I know that it sucks being in this echoey room, but you don't have to be embarrassed," Dean told him, feeling a bit uncomfortable sharing his feelings like this, but if this was what it took Sam to calm down, then it was more than worth it.
Sam gave a loud and congested sniffle and Dean almost patted him on the back to show that he was proud of him. "We'll get through this. We always do."
"I know. Thanks, Dean," whispered Sam as he rested his head on Dean's shoulder.
Dean didn't say anything for a bit as Bobby looked over and gave his head a small nod in agreement. "Don't mention it, Sammy. Don't mention it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few hours later
"Sam. Sammy. Sam!"
Sam jolted awake as Dean nudged his shoulder. He coughed as he looked up to his brother with confusion in his eyes. "Wha?"
"It's alright. We can leave now. Bobby got em'," Dean whispered since he could tell by the way that Sam squinted that he had a headache.
Sam sniffled wetly. "You sure?"
Dean helped Sam stand as the sheet fell from his shoulders. "I know so. But, you need a warm bed and proper medicine."
"I'm okay, Dean," argued Sam as he sneezed openly toward the ground.
"Huh'HuchsHSHS! Huh'HetchSHsh!"
"Uh huh. You totally sound like it." Dean leaped in front of Sam and forced Sam to look in his direction. "I told you in the panic room not to lie to me or hide from me. I don't think that we should start now, do you?"
"But, Dean-"
Dean shook his head. "You're going to listen to me. You'd do the same for me if I was sick."
"And you'd be just as stubborn," complained Sam as he rubbed at his itchy nose.
Dean rolled his eyes before he chuckled in agreement. "That is probably true, but I'm the older brother. That means you do as I say." His voice grew gentler. "Do you trust me, Sammy?"
"It's Sam and I guess," Sam reported dryly.
Dean started to lean Sam forward and for the first time since Sam got back from Stanford, Dean truly felt like his brother needed him. It was a good feeling and he was going to do whatever it took to make him feel better, embarrassment and all.