Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

"Hey, how you feeling?" Sam asked, his voice full of concern as he wiped a wet clothe over Dean's face.

"Thirsty." Was all he said in response. Sam got him a glass of water and helped him sit up and drink.

"Where's Dad?" Dean asked, his eyes searching the room.

"Went out. How are you feeling?" he asked again.

"Tired." He said, didn't need to mention his headache or the muscle aches because he was with his little brother. Once their dad got back he'd tell him, not Sammy though, Sammy didn't need to fret over him.

"Go back to sleep. I'll keep an eye out for Dad. I promise." Sam said, hoping that his brother would go back to sleep, hoping that sleep would maybe help him. He was starting to wonder if an infection had caused his brother to be sick, possibly from the cut he'd just received, but when he thought about it he realized that that couldn't be it, but the Chakan's scratch was still at the back of his mind and seemed to be, weirdly enough, the most likely.

"Hurry up, Dad." He whispered into the air, Dean was already asleep.

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Dean woke up and rubbed his neck. Some soap opera was playing, he thought it was maybe Days of Our Lives, but he wasn't sure, he only knew it might be that one because his mom used to watch it when he was younger and stayed home. He turned off the TV and got up. He was actually feeling a lot better. He wasn't tired anymore and he didn't think he had a fever anymore and to top it off, he felt restless. A glance at the clock told him it was 1:30 in the afternoon, about four hours before Sammy got home. Until then he was on his own, unless his mom came home before then. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, that was until the idea of his beloved Impala came to mind. For about two years he'd been driving his mom's station wagon around, then about a few months earlier he'd spotted the old girl in a junkyard and bought her for about five hundred dollars from the guy. He had been working on the car and it was closed to finished, just needed a few things done here and there. So now that he had the time he figured he mine as well work on it.

He went out to the garage and opened the hood. About ten minutes into working on the engine he heared the sound of his dad's old truck pulling up.

"So, playing hooky huh?" his dad asked, teasing, as he walked up to him.

"Maybe." He teased back.

"So, feeling better?" John asked. Dean rolled his eyes, but made sure not to show his dad he was doing so.

"Fine. Will probably be back in school tomorrow." He did show his eye roll at this though. He hated school. He just wanted to graduate and then join the Marines like his dad. He hoped his mom didn't worry too much about him though.

"About three more months to go kiddo." His dad said, smiling.

"I know. So, why are you home?" Dean questions.

"Just thought I'd take a lunch break today." John said.

"Wanna eat lunch together, a sandwich is sounding pretty good at the moment." He aid as he closed the hood and walked into the house with his dad.

They each make their respected sandwiches and as Dean makes his, his mind wonders to when he would make lunches for Sam, but not the Sam of now, the Sam of his dream.

"When's Daddy coming back?" eight year old Sam asked Dean while Dean made him a PB&J sandwich at the motel's table.

"In a few days, Sammy." He said.

"Promise?"

"Yeah."

"Ok." Such trust was in his voice.

"Go get dressed for school, it's a fifteen minute walk and we can't be late." Sam left the room to change.

"Dean." John jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?" he said, finishing up the making of his sandwich.

"You ok, you zoned out for a minute." There was concern in his voice.

"Fine, just thinking about a really weird dream I had, that's all." He said, a smile on his face as he took a bite of his sandwich.

"You sure?"

"Sure." He nodded with reassurance.

"Ok." John said, eying him warily.

"Stop worrying, Dad. I'm fine." Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not worried. All right, I better get back. Don't wanna be gone from the garage too long or they'll think I'm AWOL." Dean chuckled at this.

"Alright, see ya round, Dad." He said. John put his plate in the sink and left. Dean heard the truck pull out.

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Sam was working hard to keep Dean's fever down. Their Dad was still out and he had no idea of where he was. Dean kept mumbling random things, some about mom, some about him, and some about dad, nothing seriously coherent though.

"It's all right, Dean. Just relax." He whispered to his brother, not knowing what else to do.

"Dad will be back soon and we'll get you better. No hospitals either I promise. You have to fight this though, Dean. Stay with me, you can't leave. Remember, you're the one keeping Dad and I from killing each other. Why were you so stupid, Dean? Why'd you push me down, I should have been the one scratched and lying there, not you. I don't know what to do, Dean. I really don't. You've gotta get better." Tears were falling know as he held Dean's hand and continued to wipe the cloth over him. Just then John walked in and Sam quickly wiped away his tears and stood up.

To Be Continued...