A/n: Just wrote this cause I've been stuck in bad with an awful fever for the past five days. Just a little Sam when he has the "flu" after his attack. Please review.

Hot. Unbearably hot. Fire in my veins licking at my skin. Fire! Please someone help, it's so hot; will I ever be cool again?

Cold. Unimaginably cold. Ice coursing through my body. Ice! Please someone help, it's so cold; will I ever be warm again?

Hot. Cold. Cold! Hot!

Awake. Asleep. Awake? Asleep?

My sleep is filled with nightmares; when I'm awake its little better with terrifying hallucinations prancing in front of my eyes. Everything is lost in a haze and I no longer know if I'm dreaming or not.

Pain! Why does it hurt? Mama! Help! I think I'm dying. I've never felt pain like t his before, as if my innermost being was being torn asunder.

I toss and turn in my bed, the blankets twisting around my legs. Soft moans escape my parched lips as my fingers grasp the azure fabric of my pillow. I curl up as the fierce cold strikes again, shuddering I pull the blankets around me as I try to capture the warmth they should provide.

Gagging I clutch the sides of the white toilet. I lean over it; my body racked with my heaving, until I'm utterly exhausted and sink to the floor. I press my face to the cool tile, finding comfort from the heat that consumes my body.

This is how my mother finds me, face on the floor, sides heaving, eyes shut. "Oh, Sam." She places her slender white hand on my forehead "You're fever is worse again."

I struggle to open my eyes and when I do it's as if I was looking at her from a great distance. A solitary word passes through my lips. "Why?"

"Your body is trying to fight off the bad, foreign stuff that's making you sick."

It's only now, years later, that I've realized how right she was. She thought she was referring to germs, but essentially she was right, my body was trying to "fight off the bad foreign stuff" of becoming a werewolf.

I reach up and touch my forehead where she placed her hand. That was one of the last times she touched me like that, as if she cared for me. Soon after I changed for the first time and she avoided having any contact with me, she actually managed to touch me one time without shying away in revulsion, but only long enough to slice into my wrist as she tried to rid herself of her only son and object of hate.

"Sam?" Graces touches my shoulder as she walks up behind me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

I place my hands on her waist and kiss the top of her head. "Nothing, really. But now that the most perfect girl in the world is right here I have plenty to think about."

A/n: And there you have it. Yes I know its super short, but be glad for even that. Stupid flu has kept me in bed for the past six days and I got out to write this. Please tell me what you think