Sick Day
Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous (I tweaked it just a little)
Synopsis: you get sick, but you hide it from your brothers, which leads to some consequences.
You awoke to a sharp pain pulsating behind your eyes and a knot in your stomach. You pushed your blanket off, cringing when you brushed your hair back and felt your sweat-soaked face. You sat up slowly, which made your head spin and your stomach lurch before you managed a few deep breaths and some stability returned.
Your brothers were gone, probably out getting some food to bring back before the three of you left for another hunt. You got to unsteady feet, determined to take a cold shower to bring your temperature down before the boys came back.
You tried, you really did. But when the freezing water bit into your skin, you couldn’t resist grabbing at the temperature valve and turning it up.
You knew it wouldn’t help your fever, but you were shivering so bad that you couldn’t help it.
When your brothers returned you had gotten ready for the day, hoping that you didn’t look as sick as you felt as you put on your comfiest clothes.
“You ready to go?” Dean snatched up his duffel, glancing around to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.
“You bet,” you jumped up, instantly regretting it when your knees almost gave out, your head pounding as your stomach twisted.
“You good?” Sam seemed to sense something was off, but his casual tone kept you from being too nervous.
“No reason,” he shrugged. “C’mon, let’s hit the road.”
You tried to nap in the back seat, hoping some sleep would bring your fever down, but it was pointless. You couldn’t get comfortable, everything felt achy, you were either too hot or shivering, and Dean’s freaking music was too loud.
“Kid, you ok back there?”
You sat up finally, giving up on your failed sleep as you answered Sam.
“Ok, well we’re pulling over to get some food.”
You hid your cringe as you settled down in your seat.
“I’m not hungry, I think I’m gonna just stay in here.”
“Don’t be silly,” Dean piped up. “You haven’t eaten all day, and you should stretch your legs. Come on.”
Knowing any further resistance would raise their suspicions, you wearily followed your brothers into the fast food place.
You managed to choke down half of the least greasy thing you could find—a chicken sandwich—and you found that the fries almost sit alright with your stomach, so you ate most of those.
“Not hungry?” Dean questioned, and you shook your head. You cringed when he reached over and finished the rest of your sandwich in two enormous bites. “Alright, let’s hit the road,” your stomach lurched as Dean spoke through bites of food, and it only got worse as you made a wobbly attempt to stand.
“I’ll be right out,” you breathed, and with great effort you headed for the bathroom.
Five minutes later, what little you’d had for lunch was gone, you only felt worse, and you were once again on the road with your brothers.
After two hours, Sam insisted that you all stop at a library to “do a little more research” before you arrived at the motel, and Dean refused to let you sit in the car because it was “too hot out”, so you were forced to follow the boys inside, your body practically sagging with exhaustion. The fever had taken almost all of your energy, and you could feel yourself burning up as you continued to force yourself to do what your body was begging you not to do—move.
You found a corner of the library to hide in while your brothers researched, and after an annoyingly long afternoon, it was finally time to hit the road again.
Going out to the car turned out to be even harder than leaving it, and it was all you could do to put one foot in front of the other and trying to hold on to what little was left in your stomach.
You considered for the umpteenth time telling your brothers how you felt, but again you dismissed the thought. It wasn’t as though they could do anything, and the last thing they needed was to be worried about you while they had a monster to worry about.
“Coke on, slowpoke,” Dean groaned as he opened your door. “Get in already.”
You’d hoped that a couple of hours of rest in the Impala might help before you arrived at the motel, but you only got worse. You weren’t entirely sure you would be able to stand up and go inside on your own when you got there, but you would try. All you wanted was to crash on one of the beds, and hope that it got better by morning.
When you finally pulled into the motel, you surprised yourself with the ability to stand, and after a great effort, to walk.
Your head was both pounding and spinning, and you were certain that if you’d had anything left in your stomach, it would’ve been left in the middle of the parking lot, but you kept going. You fell into a false sense of security once you entered the motel room, and that was when it happened.
Your knees buckled under you, and the edges of your vision went from blurry and spinning to black. Blinding pain shot behind your eyes as you felt your head hit the hardwood floor.
Then suddenly, you felt nothing at all.
That was the only thought able to seep through the darkness around you.
Suddenly your consciousness returned, and you struggled to escape the cold that surrounded you.
“Hey, hey!” Strong hands gripped your shoulders, keeping you from your escape. “Just sit tight kid, just for a minute.”
Your eyes slowly regained their focus, and you were able to make out Dean’s face hovering above you.
“Cold,” you whimpered, only now discovering why. You were in the motel bathtub, the white porcelain covered almost entirely by cubes of ice.
“I know, I know I’m sorry,” Sam’s voice broke in, and you turned to see him standing beside Dean.
“You were unconscious on the motel floor when we came inside, you had a fever of 105,” Dean grunted and held onto your shoulder as you tried once again to climb out of the ice. “Baby please, you’re still too hot. Just one minute, please.”
You settled back against the ice hesitantly, grabbing onto your soaked sleeves as though they could offer some warmth.
“We had to get your fever down,” Dean continued. “What the heck was that? Have you been feeling sick all day?”
“I-I didn’t think it was that bad,” you offered meekly, to which he huffed but didn’t respond.
Dean helped you out after a couple of minutes, wrapping a towel around your shoulders as you shivered.
You shook your head as you clung onto the towel.
“Put on some dry clothes,” Dean tossed you a change of clothes before following Sam out the door.
Once you were dry you felt a bit better, but you still couldn’t stop shivering.
“You should get some sleep,” Dean gestured to one of the beds.
“Where’s the comforter?” You didn’t miss the grimace on Dean’s face.
“Kid, we can’t let your fever get that high again.”
“Dean, I’m freezing,” you groaned.
“Yeah, and your temperature is almost normal,” Dean argued. “It was 105, and I was about eight seconds from taking you to the ER. Now sleep.”
You collapsed onto the bed, but without a blanket it was nearly impossible to get comfortable.
“Dean c’mon, can I at least have the sheet? This is stupid.”
“What’s stupid is you going around sick all day and not telling us,” Dean grumbled.
“Dean,” Sam shot Dean a look, and he relented, tugging off his jacket and laying it over you.
“You should have told me,” he said quietly.
“I thought it would go away,” you curled into a more comfortable position.
“You should’ve told me anyway,” Dean sighed. “You really freaked me out today, baby. That’s not ok.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “Hey, shouldn’t you guys be out on a hunt?”
“It can wait until morning,” Sam pushed his backpack off of his bed and sat down on it, smiling at you.
“Uh-uh,” Dean interrupted. “We can do whatever we want. We’re not going tonight, I need to make sure your fever doesn’t spike in the middle of the night. If you’re feeling better in the morning, then you’re gonna rest here and me and Sammy will do some hunting, but not before morning, understand?”
You couldn’t help the smile that flitted across your face.
“Ok,” Dean repeated. “Now how about you get some sleep while Sam gets you some food for when you wake up.”
In response, you relaxed against your pillow and closed your eyes, and soon enough you were fast asleep.
Once Sam was gone to get food, Dean dropped his playful, relaxed mask.
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again, baby,” he sighed, brushing your hair away from your damp forehead.
“Dean?” You stirred, your hand coming up and grabbing onto his.
“Shh,” he soothed. “Just go back to sleep.”
“Love you,” you mumbled as you settled back down.
Dean shook his head, his smile returning.
“Love you too, you troublemaker.”
