Smile, The Worst is Yet to Come

Part 5

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The person that was supposed to be before him cancelled their appointment last minute so Sam was in with the nurse within minutes of being seated back in the waiting room. It was quick, easy and he was driving towards the nearest Walmart within mere minutes. He'd received strict instructions to phone the surgery in three days time to collect the results.

He trashed the cotton wool that they stuck to his arm in the can on his way into the store. He had to stop and catch his breath once he'd picked up the cart but he pegged that to having the blood taken so recently.

He was halfway through the store with his cart half full when he heard feet pounding the polished floor. Hunter instincts kicking in, he spun around to face the danger. That was when Dean ran into him as the floor didn't offer enough friction to stop him.

"Dean?" He questioned. Sam was glad that he chose to wear a long sleeved shirt this morning, "What are you doing here?" He smiled lightly.

"I was gunna ask the same thing!" It was then that Bobby caught up, panting.

Sam continued to peruse the aisles and check out the produce for sale, "I'm stocking up Bobby's house since you ate it all. But that still doesn't explain why you're stood here now."

Dean sighed, "You're ill, Sammy. Anything could have happened."

Sam put on a reassuring smile and patted his brother's shoulder, "I'm not that ill, Dean. I can still do stuff." He mumbled a few moments later, "I'm determined that it's just a chest infection."

Dean nodded but didn't seem that much reassured. Bobby looked unconvinced but it would explain the symptoms. Sam simply continued around the store like usual, ignoring the men. The other hunters followed after him like lost sheep... Or more like scolded children.

----
"Would you guys start packing this away?" Sam inquired as he dumped a few bags onto the kitchen. Upon gaining curious looks from the other two guys, he added, "I just got something I need to do."

They waved him off with a dismissive sentence; it really didn't take all of them to up away the groceries. Besides, Sam had that chest infection so he needed to rest.

The saying goes that many hands make light work and it must be true seeing how they had replenished Bobby's kitchen within a matter of mere minutes. They agreed on a job well done before deciding that they'd continue their previous tasks before converging together again in a few hours to prepare dinner.

They separated without another thought to the young man suffering upstairs.

----

Sam blinked awake. The hunter had no way to tell if time had passed. He couldn't have been knocked out for long though as nobody had discovered his limp body strewn across the guest room floor. Nobody had heard the thump as he went down like a felled tree as he'd gotten caught on Dean's bed, slowing his decent.

His shoulder ached where he'd crashed into the solid floorboards and he had a headache thundering at the base of his skull. Telling himself to man up, he pulled himself onto his bed, not that he'd been sleeping there much recently, and allowed himself to be pulled back under.

Oh well, he really couldn't complain especially when there were people being tortured out there and people actually dying.

----

Wiping his grease covered hands down the denim of his jeans, Dean pushed the door open with his shoulder to prevent making the homeowner grouchy due to more stains. The kitchen was empty but he could hear Bobby's heavy boots coming towards him.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked suddenly.

A line formed in the old man's brow, "Haven't seen him since... After the store."

Without waiting for more from Bobby, the younger man rocketed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The wooden door slammed against the wall as he busted in, effectively shocking Sam into alertness. His red eyes shot around in search of the danger.

"You're sleeping?!" He cried in relief.

"Mmm," He murmured, "It might just be a chest infection but it really takes a lot of energy to do anything."

Looking unconvinced, Dean replied while knocking his brother's foot, which stuck out the end of the bed, "Right, sport. Well, you've gotta get up since we're doing food."

"Sure," He mumbled tiredly.

-----
It was four days later when Sam's cellphone rang, making all three men jump. It sent Sam into a coughing fit before he could actually answer the device.

"Hello?" He asked since he didn't recognize the number on the screen.

"Hi there. Is this Mr MacHoven?" Remembering the false name he gave, Sam confirmed that this was him.

The youngest hunter stood and walked out onto the porch in the hopes that nobody would be able to hear the conversation. The two other men had been monitoring him heavily recently which meant hiding the severity of his condition was growing near impossible.

"This is the receptionist from the Sioux Falls Clinic you visited last week. I have a message from your doctor: she asked if you could come into the clinic as soon as you can."

He dropped his voice, just in case either of the other men were eavesdropping, "Is there any spaces for tomorrow?"

"We've made a space at 3, is that okay?"

Sam agreed and hung up before making his way back into the lounge where the two men where looking up at him in concern. It was clearly they'd strained to hear every word.

"It was the doctor." He answered the question that he knew they were thinking.

"Doctor?" They both cried.

"I've been trying to get an appointment over the last few days to get some antibiotics for my lungs." He lied, "They have an opening tomorrow at 3, could one of you give me a lift up there?"

He no longer trusted himself behind the wheel of a car since he'd passed out twice more since the first time. It would be reckless to try and go alone. Not that Bobby or Dean would allow that anyway.

------

"Sam, we will be honest with you, we are very confused. You blood came back almost completely clear. There were a few irregularities but nothing that would effect you in this way. We think it might either be influenza or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome."

"I know the influenza virus but what's the other one?"

"Chronic fatigue syndrome is a medical condition of unknown cause, with fever, aching, and prolonged tiredness and depression, typically occurring after a viral infection."

Sam looked confused, "But I haven't had a viral infection. And I... I passed out... Several times."

"And that's new since we last spoke?" She typed into the computer. Sam confirmed it, "That's bizarre. You have a handful of symptoms that aren't usually associated with chronic fatigue syndrome which makes me think that it's something more. Have you had anything else?"

"My fingers tingle sometimes but not enough for me to worry."

"Sam, when you're so ill, every symptom is crucial!" She scolded.

"So ill?" He repeated, alarmed by her tone.

She pursed her red lips before turning and leaning towards him, "Sam, if I'm being completely honest, we are not sure what is wrong with you... You don't really fit into any category. We are trying our best but..." She sighed.

Blinking, Sam accepted what she was saying as fact, "Okay but what can we do?" Using his hand he covered his mouth as a heavy and painful cough rocked though his chest. He felt something rise in his throat but he swallowed it down.

"We are going to put you on antibiotics for a little while." She winced in sympathy. Knowing that the experts were at a loss really sucked and she knew that, "And we are going to be working in close partnership with the hospital."

Sam nodded, resigned with not knowing.