Set during Stanford era, Dean gets sick and calls up Sam for some much needed comfort.
Along a winding road dipped in infinity and brushed with stars drove a lonely young man in a frayed leather jacket. The heater in his vehicle continuously kicking on and off, he would have to fix that later, he hadn't seen another soul since he passed the last little sleepaway town, opting not to stop. He was somewhere on a long stretch of road in Colorado, or was it Kansas, he couldn't tell anymore. He had stopped paying attention miles ago, his attention to the road had been dwindling the last few days. He couldn't find the energy to focus anymore.
He had so little money he'd been dozing in his car every night, if he kept driving the heat kept on in the freezing temperatures. More often than not snow would cap his vehicle, he would brush it away in the morning before leaving.
Removing the Led Zeppelin casette from the car's tape player he placed it carefully back into it's case and dropped it into the casette bin. Though the heater pumped out warm air at full capacity a shiver rolled through his body, looking at the time he found a side road and pulled over.
The man tried to get comfortable, burying himself in flannels and all the blankets he had at his disposal, to no avail. The more the heat abandoned the car the stronger the tremmors became.
Unable to get warm the man sat up on the bench seat, leaning his fresh out of the oven forehead onto the frosted window. He swallowed his saliva, feeling it catch on his throat on the way down. The cold and weary man glanced at his phone charging on the cigarette lighter, grabbing it gingerly he flipped it open. Another shiver rolled through his body, his jaw quivered as he eyed the small device.
His body ached, it begged for a comfort or solace, a rough cough forced its way out of his tired lungs. He didn't need help, but his body ached for it. His large fingers fumbled on the small device, finding his way to his contacts, selecting carefully and hitting call, despite the late hour, the low bars, the busy lives, after a few rings, he answered.
"Hiya Sabby." He said, pinching the bridge of his nose,
"Hey, Dean, how's it going?" Sam asked,
"I'b okay," he said, "just calling to see how my, hi-huhow-he-hitchooo, how my little brother is doing." He said, wiping his nose on his tattered sleeve,
"Sounds like you have one hell of a cold, where are you?" Sam asked, concern twinging his voice,
"Doesd't matter." He said, because truly it didn't. He was in the middle of nowhere in a breaking down Impala, shivering through another lonely night. He just wanted some company is all.
"Yes, yes it does, Jess and I can-" Dean cut him off,
"No, Sabby." He sounded tired, "I'm ok, I just wanted to hear your voice, that's all. I shouldd't have called."
"Dean-" he hung up the phone. He buried himself back in the blankets and placed his phone back on the charger, muffling another sneeze or two in the process. He laid back against the window as his phone light up with a call.
"I'b fide Sabby," he greeted, ignoring pleasantries, he wasn't feeling well enough for them.
"No, you're not. You only sneeze like that when you're really sick or shoved your face in a cat. You can't hide this one."
"Sorry Sabby, I shouldd't have called."
"Sorry," numbing guilt was all he could feel, bothering Sam, at Stanford, where he was trying to get away from this family, from this life. "I shouldd't have bothered you."
"Dean, stop it. Now really where are you?"
"Id the middle of nowhere, id the Ibpala, I he-ha-hatchoo, he-hishew, sorry, I'b od the side of a road, baybe ub, Kadsa-ha-ha-Kadsas. Or Colorado? Hetchoo! I'b really dot sure."
"You're staying in the Impala?"
"I dod't have the modey for a hotel, beed feeligg bad for a while, thigk I might be rudding a fever, hkshh" He admitted quietly between sneezes "jusd tryigg to get to the dext hudt."
"Dean," Sam whined, "you need to stop and rest,"
"I cad't, the heater for the Ibpala is havigg problebs, I need to keep movig or it doesd't stay warb." He felt himself offloading onto his brother, knowing he shouldn't.
"Dean I'm coming to get you. Figure out where you are. Call me back when you do. I'm packing a duffel and leaving now." He hung up. Dean sighed, he screwed up. He shouldn't have called. He sneezed again, looking around for signs, unable to see anything he started the car back up and continued driving.
"I'b in Kadsas city Sabby," he said after calling his brother back, "I guess I got further thad I thought."
"Okay Dean, we were in Ohio visiting Jess' family, so I'll be there in a few hours okay? Don't go anywhere."
"Sure thig Sabby." He said quietly, coughing into the crook of his arm. The boys hung up. Dean found a place to park on the outskirts of town and texted Sam a location. He plugged the phone back into the charger and turned off the Impala. The remaining heat resonated in the air like music, fading quickly as it leaked out of the bodice of the Impala, leaving Dean shivering and huddled in the back seat. He sneezed violently into his sleeve, pulling blankets up further around him. The scratchy wool barely making a dent in the chill wracking his beat up body.
Dean didn't know how much time has passed, but he heard a rapping on the Impala window, he turned, not to find Sam but instead an officer of the law, Dean groggily rolled down his window,
"Yes, officer?" He croaked out,
"You can't sleep here son, I'm gonna need to ask you to leave. I'll let you off with a warning this time, don't let me catch you out here again." Dean nodded, pulling his tired body back into the front seat and driving away.
Driving through empty city streets he found a new location, buried behind some trees in a park, and he curled back up in the back seat, sweat now pouring off of his body.
The next rapping on the window he heard was a familiar face, he opened the door and climbed out of the frigid Impala.
"Hiya Sabby," he said as his yournger brother pulled him into a giant hug. Dean felt the heat his brother provided and nuzzled in,
"Hi Dean." He said, not letting go. This was the first he'd seen his brother since leaving for Stanford last year,
"He-xxshooxxshoo!" Dean sneezed, trying to turn away, unintentionally spraying his brother. "Sorry Sabby." He said sheepishly,
"Dean quit apologizing and get in my car, come on."
"I deed to grab my stuff frob the Ibpala."
"I've got it, get in the car." Dean didn't have the energy to fight, and got into the small vehicle.
He opened up the passenger door to find multiple quilts, a box of tissues, some cough medicine, and other medical supplies strewn about the cab. Sam gathered the pile of clothes and blankets Dean had been sleeping in and threw them into the back seat, locking up the Impala and popping into the driver's seat. Pulling a thermometer from his pocket he stuck it in his brother's mouth.
"Under the tongue." He said firmly, wrapping blankets around him. "We're going to a motel." Dean just closed his eyes and focused on not letting the tickling sensation building in his nose out. The thermometer beeped and Dean took it out if his mouth, letting the sneezing fit overtake him. Sam just frowned and grabbed the tiny device from his brother's shaking hand.
"104.5" he read off, Dean still stuck in a sneezy loop. "Here" Sam said, holding a tissue over his brother's red nose as he continued violently convulsing.
"Thangks Sabby," he said when we was finally free, taking the wad from his brother who had patiently held it there during the fit. He handed his brother the Nyquil from the driver side door,
"Drink up." Dean grimmaced but nodded, taking a shot of the vile liquid.
"That should cover be, I cad just go back to the Ibpala and sleep this off add you cad go back to Jess add Stadford."
"No way, I know you, I'll be here until your fever breaks at least." Dean frowned,
"Stop it. How many times was this reversed? I'm here, get over it and stop apologizing."
"Okay Sabby," Dean said, finding his eye lids heavy and sleep on the horizon.
