If you're still taking prompts for supernatural, i would die to see a fic set in like season 1 where the boys have to pretend to be students at a college and they have to go to a party to fit in. The next day Dean wakes up with a bad stomach flu and sam thinks dean just partied too hard so he isnt sympathetic, but dean didn't feel well at the party and only had like 1 beer amd is really sick
TW: mentions of vomit
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Sam woke up to the sound of Dean puking. He rolled his eyes, grabbing the other pillow on his bed and pulling it down over his face to drown out the sound. His brother was such an idiot.
Sam must’ve managed to fall asleep because he woke up again a while later. Late enough that it was light outside, which was somewhat unusual. Most of the time when they were on a case Dean had them up and working at dawn. He sat up and glanced over at Dean’s bed, which was empty, but the bathroom appeared to be occupied.
He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans, then walked over to the closed bathroom door, knocking harshly. They’d gone to this college party last night, trying to find the student who they believed to be possessed. They hadn’t been successful, but it appeared that Dean had successfully drank himself sick.
“What?” Dean snapped from inside the bathroom, his voice sounding rough.
“Once your done puking in there princess get out of there so I can shower. We got work to do,” Sam yelled, being loud on purpose. He knew Dean must have a headache from the hangover.
Dean groaned, then Sam heard a retch and a splash. Great, he was still throwing up. Guess he might not get that shower after all, and he very well may be working this case by himself today.
“Don’t feel good Sammy,” Dean moaned.
Sam was taken aback for a second. That wasn’t like his brother to just admit he was feeling bad, even if it was just a hangover. Normally he’d insist he was fine and blow it off like nothing.
“Yeah well you should know better than to drink yourself into a stupor while we’re on a job,” Sam rolled his eyes, walking back over to his bed to pull out his laptop to sift through social media and see if he could learn anything.
“S’all yours,” Dean mumbled a few minutes later, exiting the bathroom.
When Sam turned around, he was concerned by what he saw. Dean was wearing only a pair of boxers, his stomach visibly bloated against the waistband. His hair was matted down with sweat, face chalk white. That doesn’t look like a hangover.
“Dude what the hell happened to you last night?” Sam asked incredulously. They’d left together, so he didn’t see how Dean could’ve gotten himself into anything crazy.
“Nothing,” Dean snapped, sitting down heavily on the edge of his bed and dropping his head into his hands.
Sam walked over to his brother, placing a careful hand on his shoulder, not wanting to get sucker punched. But Dean didn’t even flinch or make a sound. His skin was burning though, heat radiating off of him in waves.
“You’re not hungover are you?” Sam asked, regretting how much of an asshole he’d been.
Dean shook his head miserably, “Only had like half a beer.”
“You’ve got a fever,” Sam commented, internally cursing himself. Dean never would’ve made this mistake. If the roles had been reversed Dean would’ve just known that Sam was sick. He always knew.
“Yeah, feel like shit,” Dean grunted. Sam could see his arms shaking from holding himself up.
“Alright, why don’t you lay back down and rest,” Sam said, grabbing Dean’s arm to help him pull himself the rest of the way onto the bed and curl up on his side, arms wrapped around his stomach. He’d never seen Dean like this, so compliant. The fact that he’d taken Sam’s bullshit yelling at him this morning without comeback also told him that he was really sick.
“Might puke again soon,” Dean mumbled, his eyes closed.
“Right,” Sam said, walking over to grab the trash bin from by the door, setting it next to his brother. He sat down at the edge of the bed, wondering if he should go get some medicine for the fever. Probably wouldn’t stay down anyway, he figured. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, I didn’t know you were sick,” he said.
“I know, s’okay,” Dean answered, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
“I just figured you were hungover, guess I didn’t notice you weren’t drinking last night. Wait, why didn’t you drink last night?” Sam asked, realizing that didn’t make sense anyway.
“Stomach hurt,” Dean said.
“You didn’t feel good yesterday already?”
Dean shook his head. Sam sighed, closing his eyes. How could he not have noticed? He certainly wasn’t going to be winning any ‘best brother’ awards anytime soon.
“S’okay Sammy,” Dean said, reading his mind, as always.
“Just try to get some sleep, cause I’m guessing you were up most of the night huh?” Sam told him.
“Yeah,”
“Well I’m just gonna be over here on my computer, trying to figure some stuff out, but I’ll be here if you need anything okay?” Sam said, giving his brother’s shoulder a quick squeeze to offer some bit of comfort without embarrassing him.
When Dean didn’t reply, he stood up, heading back over to his bed and opening his computer again. He kept one eye on his brother though, worried. Dean rarely got sick, but when he did it tended to kick his ass. Sam wasn’t exactly great at taking care of him, clearly. He was certainly going to do a better job from now on though.
