Dean collapsed on his dingy bed with an exhausted sigh. He had taken more of a beating while fighting a wendigo than he had planned on. Sam walked in from outside, setting down their bag of guns and other hunting tools. He looked over at Dean and shook his head, knowing Dean had taken the brunt of the abuse.

"You hungry?" Sam asked, wondering if his brother was awake. Dean groaned getting back up from the bed.

"Yeah, let's go eat... Did you see a diner on the way here?" Dean asked absentmindedly, causing Sam to look at him questioningly. Dean shook his head and sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face.

"Walking distance... You feeling okay, bro?" Sam asked, looking Dean up and down looking for obvious signs of injury. Dean rolled his eyes and stomped out the door without another word.

Sam followed after Dean, wishing he had taken something for the headache he could feel increasing in intensity. Just need to eat something, that's all. He told himself, trying to convince himself he wasn't coming down with a bug of any kind. Dean walked into the diner and sat down at a table, tapping his foot in agitation at Sam's slow pace. A few minutes later, Sam walked in and sank down into his seat, immediately perusing the menu. The more he looked at the menu, the more his head hurt and the more his stomach started to hurt uncomfortably.

"Took you long enough, thought I was going to have to order for you." Dean said in a taunting tone. Sam shook his head and attempted to glare at Dean, but the effort hurt too much and caused his forehead to pinch. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and winced slightly.

"I always show up, don't I?" Sam snapped, instantly regretting it. Dean's eyebrows went up in surprise. What's Sammy's deal? He never snaps unless he is hurt or sick. I didn't see him get hurt, but he is acting like he's in pain... Shit! He's got a headache, which means a migraine or worse could be on its way. Dean thought frantically.

"You okay, Sammy? Did the wendigo nail you?" Dean asked quickly appraising his little brother for bloody marks or anything to hint at an injury.

"It's Sam." Sam said through clenched teeth. The waitress came and took their orders, and brought their coffees and a pack of aspirin to the table. When Sam looked at her questioningly, she smiled and patted his head gently. She walked away, muttering to herself about sick kids and no parental guidance.

Dean pulled the laptop out and started looking for new cases nearby, Sam didn't even bother yelling at his brother. He just rested his head down on his arms, after taking the aspirin. Dean looked at his little brother over the computer, and frowned noting how pale he looked.

"Dude, you sure you're okay?" Dean asked again, trying to get his brother to respond. Sam glared at him a little better this time, before answering.

"I'm fine... just tired..." Sam mumbled, hiding his face in his arms.

Dean nodded and put the laptop away, as their food arrived. He noticed Sam had ordered a soup, and that made him even more nervous.

They finished eating rather quickly, even for them and headed back to their motel room. Sam walked slowly, trying to not show how much his head hurt and how much it was affecting the rest of him. Dean slowed his pace to match Sam's so that he could get a good look at him.

Sam's face was pale, with red coloring his cheeks slightly. That combined with the sweat beading on his forehead, told Dean that Sam had a fever coming on. A fever mixed with a migraine, spelled trouble no matter how he looked at. Since Sam was already at the grouchy phase of not feeling well, Dean knew it wouldn't be long before everything spiraled downward.

"Sammy? You okay? You're pretty pale." Dean said gently, reaching out to help Sam when he staggered a little bit. Sam righted himself, not seeing that Dean was trying to help.

"M'fine." Sam slurred tiredly, he shook his head and only succeeded in making him dizzier. He swallowed hard, trying to not give in to his convulsing stomach.

"Okay, want some beer? I was going to stop and find a bar close by." Dean said nonchalantly. He saw Sam swallowing hard, and knew what was about to happen next. Sam winced and swallowed again, gagging under his breath.

"D'n, I don' feel..." Sam moaned, doubling over as nausea and pain ripped through his stomach.

"I know, it's okay. Take it easy. Just breathe through it." Dean said, rubbing circles on Sam's back. Dean could feel Sam's muscles tensing up, as Sam started retching in the parking lot.

Within moments the painful retches changed to harsh vomiting, barely giving Sam a chance to breathe between episodes. Dean helped keep Sam upright, as he started swaying back and forth. After twenty agonizing minutes of vomiting, Sam stopped trying to throw his stomach up and started breathing again.

"You okay?" Dean asked him gently, watching his face to see what was going on.

"Mhm..." Sam mumbled, straightening slowly. He staggered heavily to the left and would have collapsed if Dean had not caught him first.

"Whoa... Easy now... Let's get inside so you can lay down." Dean said, half dragging his brother inside their room and to his bed. Sam collapsed weakly onto his bed, moaning as he curled in the fetal position.

Dean put a hand to his forehead and sighed softly, feeling that he barely had a fever. He went and grabbed some Tylenol from his duffel bag, which he gave to Sam with a glass of water. Sam was tempted to refuse it, but chose to take the meds in an effort to reduce his headache.

"Thanks." Sam says as he sips the water slowly, hoping it won't make a reappearance.

"No prob... Let's get your jacket off so you'll be more comfortable." Dean said, slowly removing his jacket. He stopped short when he saw blood on Sam's shirt, and not a small amount.

Sam gasped in shock as his shirt was tugged away from his back. Dean lifted Sam's shirt all the way off, had Sam lay on his stomach, and whistled softly at the bloody cuts on his little brother's back. Sam lurched forward with no warning, but Dean was prepared and had a trash can waiting right over the edge of the bed for Sam.

"I need to stitch you up," Dean warned gently, grabbing what he needed to preform the task at hand. Sam moaned in response as he dry heaved into the bucket before him.

As soon as Sam had stopped and settled down a bit, Dean started cleaning the wounds. He had barely even touched his skin, when Sam moaned again.

"S...stop..." Sam moaned, wanting to curl up again. Dean winced as he put pressure down on one of the wounds, stopping the bleeding but earning a hoarse scream from Sam.

"I know... I'm sorry." Dean said sadly, he hated seeing Sammy in this much pain. The fact that he was causing this pain hurt Dean immensely.

Dean worked quickly sewing up Sam's back, only stopping when Sam's stomach couldn't handle anymore. Dean sighed softly, knowing Sam had long since thrown up the Tylenol. Once he finished sowing the cuts shut, Dean got more Tylenol and water which he gave to Sam.

"All finished, let's roll you over and take some more meds so that you can sleep." Dean said, as he gently rolled Sam over. Sam shook his head in protest but again conceded since he knew Dean wouldn't give up.

Sam snuggled into his pillow, willing the throbbing in his head to stop. After a while he fell asleep, exhausted and in too much pain to think anymore. Dean stayed up until he was certain Sam was okay, before laying down to sleep himself.

It was nine am when Dean woke up next to find Sam's bed empty. He sat up looking around in concern.

"Morning," Sam said in a raspy voice. He was sitting at the table on the laptop, looking for a new hunt for them.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Dean asked, looking his brother up and down. Still pale, but otherwise looks better. Raspy voice indicates sore throat from throwing up.

"I'm better." Sam said with a knowing smile. Dean rolled his eyes and got up, getting ready for the day.