Sam patched him up - only a few stitches needed - and Jess was none the wiser. Dean pulled his shirt down and settled back against the pillow. Once Sam put all the supplies away, he sat next to Dean on the bed.

"How're you feeling?"

Dean shrugged and coughed. "Crappy."

Sam breathed a laugh. "What were you hunting, anyway?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Frickin' water sprite. It was stupid."

"Yeah, well, stupid enough to slash your side."

"No...I was stupid. I wasn't feeling well, and I followed the thing into a lake anyway. Wasn't at my best."

Sam sighed. "That's what scares me, man. You keep doing that, and Dad's not there to watch your back."

Dean rubbed both eyes with the heels of his hands. "Sammy - no lecturing - okay? At least not tonight. Please?"

Sam opened his mouth to respond when Jess walked in carrying a large mug. Tendrils of steam rose from the mouth, curling in the air.

"Hope chicken noodle is okay - I think it's kind of standard fare when you're sick, right?" She smiled brightly and placed the mug on the table next to the bed. She pulled a thermometer from the pocket of her sweatshirt. "Alrighty. Open up."

Dean lolled his head back and looked up at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Hey - if you're good, you get a lollipop. Shaped like a cough drop. Minus the stick."

Dean laughed at that and with a small shake of his head, opened his mouth. She stuck the device under his tongue and winked at Sam. "I'll go get his treat. Take it out if it beeps, okay?"

Sam nodded as she left the room once more. He didn't say anything, just scooted further onto the bed and leaned across Dean's legs. Dean didn't say anything either, trying not to move the thermometer with his tongue. He relaxed against the pillow and closed his eyes.

He still felt stupid. But why did he feel stupid? For having people who cared for him? For being taken care of when he needed it?

Did he even know when he needed it?

The thermometer beeped, and Sam obediently took it out. "One-hundred-one. Looks like you're stuck here for a few days." He didn't ask Dean to stay, and didn't ask Dean if he wanted to stay. He simply told him that he was staying, and that was that.

When the child becomes the parent…

Dean cautiously opened one eye as Sam set down the thermometer and rearranged the blankets.

When Jess returned, Sam reported, "One-hundred-one. And he behaved."

Jess handed over a cough drop. "Looks like you're stuck here for a few days."

Dean chose to stay silent. Part of him wanted to get up and bolt, the other part, a larger part, didn't necessarily like being taken care of, but liked that he was cared for. He simply nodded and took the medicine.

Jess seemed to sense Dean's discomfort with the attention, and gestured to the mug. "See if you can drink that - I bet it'll help your throat. I'll just leave you two alone...call if you need anything."

"Thanks, Jess," Dean rasped.

She smiled, "Anytime."

She shut the door behind her so the brothers could have some privacy.

Dean fiddled with the cough drop, smoothing out the cellophane wrapper between his fingers. Sam nudged his legs.

"What's going on in there?"

Dean shook his head with a laugh. "I dunno, man. The gears are rusty."

Sam chuckled and handed his brother the mug of soup. "Somehow, I don't think that's the case."

Dean took it, and blew on the liquid inside. "Yeah, well. Sometimes that's how it feels." He tentatively took a sip, and found it not as hot as it appeared. He took a decent sized swallow and sighed as the warm liquid soothed his sore throat.

Sam smiled. "It's really good to see you."

Dean peeked at him from over the top of the mug. He took another swallow, and again, almost moaned at how good it felt. "Dude, it's only been three months."

Sam huffed. "So what? I went from every day with you to not every day with you. Three months feels like a lot."

"Sam...you've been at school for two years, and I see you every holiday and some weekends in-between."

"And you missed me, too, these last few months, so shut up."

Dean paused at that. He had missed Sam. There wasn't anything different about the last three months than the twenty-four before them, but this block of time just felt really...long.

He made a face indicating he grudgingly agreed, and Sam actually gloated a little. Dean's eyelids were feeling heavy, and he yawned right in his soup. Sam laughed and took the mug from him, placing it on the dresser.

"It's time for this little hunter to get some sleep in a bed that doesn't have crappy blankets and lumpy mattresses."

"Mmmm...be careful. I may make this my base of operations."

Sam looked serious again. "And that's supposed to be a threat?"

Dean looked up at him. "Sammy…"

Sam huffed and patted Dean on the legs. "No lectures. Get some sleep. Let us know if you need anything." He gave Dean's leg one last squeeze before leaving the room.

xxxxx

Dean stayed put for the next couple days with minimal objection. He did feel awful, and if he had to hole up somewhere, Sam's was definitely a good place to be. Jess went out of her way to make sure he was taken care of, and any attempt on his part to minimize her efforts was rejected.

Dean had to cope with the crazy notion that they cared for and about him, and honestly, he wasn't sure what to do with that.

On the third day, his fever was pretty much gone, and the congestion was less. John texted with yet another urgent hunt where millions of lives hung in the balance and Dean was needed immediately to help purge the evil. It was probably just an angry spirit in an old house, but with John, the two scenarios held equal importance.

When Dean broke the news that he was leaving once Sam got home from class, Jess stood in the bedroom doorway with her arms crossed, watching him pack up.

She was pissed.

"You can't leave yet - you still have a fever."

"Ninety-nine degrees is that gray area of feverness."

"Gray is still something."

"I've worked with worse. I'll be fine, Jess."

"You're still blowing snot every two minutes."

"Mmm-hmm. Kleenex helps with that."

"And you're coughing. And sneezing. How are you gonna work with that?"

Dean zipped up his duffel and sat on the bed, facing her. To his surprise, she looked about to cry. "What is this really about, Jess?"

Jess blinked at him and sighed. She moved across the room to sit next to him on the bed. "I don't want you to go."

Dean huffed, "I gathered that. But I think there's more going on here."

She bit her bottom lip and twirled the ends of her hair around her fingers. She's nervous, Dean thought, watching her.

"Jess…"

"I don't like that you feel you need to keep moving, even when you can't. I don't like that you feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. I don't like you working when you're sick. I don't like that you don't have a home. I don't like how Sam and I worry about you all the time."

The verbal diarrhea caught Dean off-guard. He was expecting her to say something about how he was too sick to work. He wasn't expecting the outpouring of emotion and insight that came with it. Dean stammered, "Um...okay…"

A couple tears slid down her face and she impatiently wiped them away. She wasn't quite finished with her list, so she continued in a rush. "I also like having you here. I like how your being here makes Sam happy. I like knowing that you're safe when you're here. I like..." She paused for a second, the continued in a small voice. "I like having a big brother around."

Dean's eyes widened a little at that. He was having a hard time processing everything she said, and that last one packed a punch. With Sam, there weren't emotional discussions, unless the emotion was anger, frustration, and incredulity. He didn't know how to respond - she said so much.

"Jess - I'm home!" Sam yelled from the back door. "You here?"

Jess leaped up and practically ran from the room, leaving Dean sitting there, feeling simultaneously guilty and touched. He could hear the two lovebirds talking in low voices...Jess slightly hysterical and Sam resigned and calm.

Sam knew the drill. He understood why Dean had to leave. He didn't like it, sure, but he understood. Why didn't that make Dean feel better about it?

Dean grabbed a Kleenex and sneezed into it. He sat still, the Kleenex balled in his fist, and really took stock of how he felt. He thought about what Jess said. He thought about his life.

With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone, and sent John a quick text.

Sam appeared in the doorway, wearing the patented Sam Winchester Bitchface. It melted off his face when he saw Dean turn off his phone and remove his jacket.

"Hey…"

Dean glanced over his shoulder. "Hey...um. I'm, uh, still feeling pretty crappy. If it's still okay, I'd, um, like to hang around until I shake this." He sneezed again into the balled up tissue. It wasn't planned, but the timing was pretty good.

Sam huffed a smile. "Of course - you can stay as long as you want." He looked a little confused at the change in plans, but he didn't question it.

Dean nodded, averting his eyes, and crawled back into bed. "Thanks, Sammy. For everything. I'm, uh, gonna take a nap."

Sam nodded, "Sure...okay. I'll wake you when dinner's ready."

Dean nodded in return, and curled into a ball under the blankets. Sam quietly closed the door, and Dean eventually fell asleep.

xxxxx

He woke to someone carding their fingers through his hair. The motion was incredibly soothing, especially since it felt like his fever was up again. It was a nice combination of feeling good on a physical level coupled with feeling good because someone cared enough to make him feel good.

Peeling open one eye, he saw a slightly fuzzy Jess on the edge of the bed, stroking his hair and humming.

"Go back to sleep, Dean. We've got you."

Warmth spread through him that was definitely not from the fever. He closed his eyes, and went back to sleep.

==end==

A/N: So I added this final (really final) chapter to the story. When I originally wrote it, I didn't want the extra piece, because it was really meant to be this little oneshot deal. But since I posted it, it's bugged me. I didn't want a drawn-out thing detailing how Jess literally took care of Dean ("Here's another box of Kleenex, Dean!"), but I started to feel like there needed to be some response from Dean about Jess's insistence that he is important and worthy of her and Sam's love. In my mind (and the AU that I write/post to this site), Sam and Dean saw each other a lot during the Stanford years, so it fits that Jess and Dean knew each other. I can't imagine Dean not loving someone who truly loved Sam, and dammit, he needs someone there for him. :)