Since we have to wait two weeks for the next episode I just had to write a little coda for the last ep "Optimism" (14x6) Obviously, spoilers for that episode. Hope you guys enjoy!

Carrying the Weight

A Supernatural Fanfic

"Jack!" Dean cried uselessly as he dropped onto the floor beside the kid. His heart had seized in his chest the instant Jack had revealed the blood on his hand, had looked up at him with scared eyes, blood dripping from his nose as well, then he'd simply collapsed onto the floor.

"Come on kid," Dean pleaded, reaching out and gripping his hand, before pressing his fingers to Jack's throat, feeling for a pulse. There was one but it was thready and not at all steady. "Dammit," Dean growled, sitting back on his heels and running a hand over his face. What should he do? No one here had medical knowledge aside from a little first aid, and most of the hunters were out on cases anyway. Cas was wrapping his hunt up but wouldn't be back for a few more hours, same with Sam.

And what was worse is that Jack was human now. He had no healing abilities. Whatever this was, it looked bad, and Dean suddenly didn't want to take any chances that this wasn't some strange side effect that Jack would eventually pop back from. They had already lost too much; Dean wasn't going to lose the kid now.

"All right, Jack," he murmured, and simply scooped the kid up into his arms. Jack wasn't as heavy as he should have been and he felt rather thin in Dean's arms, his head lolling against the hunter's shoulder. Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line and carried Jack out to the Impala they had barely just left, putting him up front so he could keep an eye on him. He raced back inside to grab his coat and keys, checking on Jack who had slumped against the door. Dean checked his pulse again, didn't see any change, and reached into the backseat to grab a blanket, which he spread over the ex-nephillim. Jack shifted slightly and his eyes fluttered.

"D'n?" he murmured, before he started coughing again.

Dean reached out and grabbed his shoulder to steady him, gipping him tighter than he should have. Jack's coughing fit stopped after a couple seconds and he seemed to fall unconscious again.

"Don't worry, kid, we'll get you better." Dean murmured before he grabbed his phone and dialed Sam's number as he maneuvered out of the garage.

"Hey, Dean," Sam greeted. "I'm almost to the bunker. How's your hunt going?"

"Sammy, something's wrong with Jack," Dean cut in grimly.

"What happened?"

"I don't know, we just got back and he—he started coughing blood." Dean swallowed hard, remembering Sam's illness that had been connected to the Trials. His constant fevers and the bloody tissues that had shown up in copious amounts. He didn't want to see Jack go through that too. "I don't know what else to do for him so I'm taking him to the hospital. Call Cas and meet me there when you get back?"

"Yeah, yeah, definitely," Sam said quickly. "I won't be long."

Dean ended the call and set his phone on the seat as he continued into town.

Thankfully it wasn't a long trip to the hospital, but Jack didn't regain consciousness in that time either, which worried Dean. He knew that Jack had been getting over something for the last couple weeks, but what if he's just been getting worse instead and none of them had really noticed with everything else going on and Jack, of course, would have tried to hide it so as not to be a burden? Dean almost snorted. Jack had apparently already learned one of the most important traits of being a Winchester.

He parked the Impala by the emergency room and simply went around the other side and slid Jack out, carrying him into the hospital.

A nurse caught sight of them as soon as Dean entered the room with his precious cargo and instantly called for a gurney.

"Sir, can you tell me what happened?" the nurse asked.

"I'm not really sure, he was coughing up blood, bleeding from the nose—then he collapsed," Dean gently laid Jack down on the gurney that was rushed to them. "I don't think it's an injury though, he's had a bad cough for a while."

"We'll do some x-rays and a few tests," the nurse told him, already taking Jack away. Dean took a step toward her.

"Look, I'm his uncle, can I go with him? If he wakes up and I'm not there…" Dean trailed off, feeling helpless as the nurse gave him a kind look.

"We'll take good care of him, but I need you to fill out some paperwork. What's his name?"

"Jack," Dean provided.

She smiled and touched his arm. "I'll let you know as soon as he wakes, okay?" Then she was gone and Dean was left with the receptionist.

He filled out the paperwork then paced around the waiting room, constantly checking his watch and his phone but no one came back to tell him he could see Jack and he was getting more and more worried. And what if Jack woke up without someone he knew there? He wouldn't even know what had happened and he might try to fight, which probably wouldn't go well. Dean began to wonder whether he should have just stayed at the bunker after all.

"Dean!"

Dean spun around, some relief flooding him as he saw Sam and Cas hurrying into the waiting room.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Where is Jack?" Cas asked, worry creasing his face and making Dean feel sick all over again.

"They're still looking at him," Dean said helplessly. "Haven't told me anything yet."

Cas shook his head, running a hand agitatedly through his hair. "I should have paid more attention. I just thought it was a human sickness. I left him at the bunker so he could rest…" He closed his eyes. "I just didn't think…"

"Cas, none of us saw this coming," Sam told their friend, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "I mean, Jack seemed fine, apart from that cough."

"Yeah because he learned to hide his problems by watching us," Dean said bitterly.

"He'll be fine," Sam said again firmly, but Dean could tell it was that strained, too hopeful voice he tried to put on when he was really scared and that made his own guts clench.

There were sudden sounds of a commotion coming from beyond the doors to the examination rooms. There was shouting, followed by the sounds of a struggle, and Cas' head whipped around.

"Jack!" he cried and hurried off in that direction, shoving through the doors.

"Um, sir, you can't go back there!" the receptionist cried but Sam and Dean were already following him.

They followed the sounds of distress and yanked a curtain back from one of the small cubicles to reveal Jack struggling on an exam bed while two doctors tried to hold him down.

"What are you doing to me? What did you do with Dean?" Jack demanded and Dean's heart sank, realizing he should have insisted he go with Jack earlier.

"Jack," Cas called softly, getting the attention of the doctors.

One stopped the three men with a stern look. "You're not supposed to be back here!"

"I'm his father," Cas said without hesitation in his angelic commander voice. "And we won't get in your way." He pushed past the nurse and went to stand by Jack's head.

"Cas," Jack breathed in relief, slumping back on the bed instantly. "What happened?"

"You're sick, Jack," Cas told him quietly and ran a soothing hand through his hair. "But we're getting you taken care of."

Dean peeked into the small space with Sam. "Hey, kid. Sorry about the scare but they wouldn't let me come back with you. You scared the crap out of me when you collapsed like that so I brought you to the hospital."

"The doctors are gonna help you," Sam added with a smile.

Jack swallowed hard and nodded before sinking back onto the bed.

Cas soothingly stroked his hair back as the doctors finished putting in an IV, obviously what they had been trying to do when Jack woke. There were also several nodes stuck to his chest, sending readings to the monitors nearby.

"Sorry about that, Jack," the nurse who had spoken to Dean earlier said kindly, patting the boy's hand. "I'm sure it must have been a shock waking up here. Is it okay if I talk to your dad for a minute?"

Jack glanced up hesitantly at Cas who smiled reassuringly at him, but Jack only reached out to clutch Cas' sleeve. Sam stepped in, seeing his nervousness.

"I'll stay with you," he told the boy and Jack seemed to calm a little bit, finally releasing Cas.

The nurse left the room, Cas on her heels, tugging the curtain back into place as she beckoned Cas and Dean to one side.

"What's wrong with him?" Cas asked instantly.

The nurse held up a clipboard and flipped through a couple pages. "We did a couple tests, and took some x-rays, but, frankly, we can't really find anything wrong with him."

"What do you mean? He's coughing up blood?" Dean demanded. "That's not normal."

"No," the nurse said calmly. "But despite the tuberculosis-like symptoms that's not what he has. Nor does he have any toxins or poisons in his system that would cause these kinds of symptoms."

"So you're saying, by your standards, that there is nothing wrong with him," Cas said blandly, anger inflecting in his voice.

"I'm saying we don't know what's wrong with him," the nurse said matter-of-factly. "I'd like to keep him overnight to monitor his symptoms and see if he gets any worse, but I think you should take him to see a specialist who would be more equipped to figure out what's really going on."

A specialist. Yeah, Dean was thinking the same thing. But he didn't think this doctor would be giving them the kind of referral they would be looking for.

"I know not knowing is the worst part, and I wish I had an answer for you," the nurse said. "But your son seems like a strong young man otherwise and I am certain he will get through whatever this is."

Cas didn't say anything and Dean knew well enough what he was thinking. Dean nodded and thanked the nurse and then put a hand on Cas' shoulder, before leading him back to Jack's bed where Sam was helping him drink some water.

The other nurse left them a few minutes later and pretty soon it was only the four of them there, tucked into the small space.

Sam gave up the stool beside the bed to Cas and went to stand next to Dean on the other side. Cas sat down, settling his hand over Jack's. The boy looked over at him, his eyes wide and so young-looking.

"Do they know what's wrong with me?" he asked softly.

Cas sagged, his shoulders looking like he carried a ton of weight right now. "They don't know, Jack. It may not even be something doctors can fix. But whatever it is we'll figure it out and we'll get you better."

Jack's eyes closed and he let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry," he said, barely above a whisper.

"What do you have to be sorry for, Jack?" Sam asked with a frown.

He cracked his eyes open, but still didn't meet theirs. "I thought…I thought I could hide this, that I could get over it, but it just got worse. It was stupid of me. What if I had passed out on a hunt when one of you needed me? I could have gotten one of you hurt or worse…"

"Hey," Dean cut in, stepping over to the bed and gripping Jack's shoulder. "What did we just talk about earlier? All this guilt crap isn't going to change anything, remember?" Jack looked aside and Dean squeezed his shoulder gently. "We're in this together, kid. Just like Cas said, we'll find a way to get you better."

"But what if you can't?" Jack cried, hands fisting in the blanket that had been pulled over his legs. "What if I'm dying?! I can't heal myself and my lost powers may very well be the problem!" He closed his eyes in defeat. "I'm not strong enough."

"Jack, we're not going to let you die," Cas told him firmly.

"And you don't have to be strong enough," Sam told him, squeezing his knee. "If one of us can't stand up by ourselves, we carry each other. That's what family does." He glanced over at Dean and the elder brother swallowed hard, but patted Jack's chest gently.

"Damn straight," he said.

"But we will find a cure for this," Cas said firmly. "And we'll find a cure for your grace. But until then, as Sam and Dean said, all you have to do is trust that we will always be there for you. And when you feel like you can't get through it, we'll do that for you too."

Jack seemed to relax slightly and Cas reached up to smooth his hair back again. "You should try to rest," he said gently. "If you don't get worse, they'll probably let you go tomorrow. Then you can rest back home and we'll start looking for ways to cure you."

"We can call Rowena," Sam said quietly. "If this is supernatural, she may be able to help."

Jack sighed, but his eyes slid shut and he eventually began breathing evenly, if not with a small cough here and there. At least he seemed to have stopped coughing up blood for the moment anyway.

The rest of them spent the night in the tiny space, pulling in two more chairs and some coffee as they set their vigil. Maybe they should have been looking for more cases, more leads on Michael, maybe Sam should have been back home 'chiefing' the other hunters, but none of that seemed to cross their minds that night. They simply watched over the newest member of their family and vowed to do as much for as long as they could.

Because no matter what happened, as long as they were there for each other when it was most needed, that was all that really mattered in the end.