Little - Wincest

Chapter Seven - Cold

When Sam woke up the next morning, Dean was pressed up tightly against him, whimpering softly in his sleep. At first Sam thought that he was whimpering because of some very great reasons (don't blame the guy, he hadn't been able to get laid in like, what, four days? He was just really getting desperate at the moment, though definitely not desperate enough to do his brother who was currently a five year old), but once he put his hand on Dean's cheek to kiss him awake, he noticed that the guy was burning up. Sam sighed, shaking his head slowly as he pulled himself out of Dean's grip gently, slowly getting out of bed. He should've known this was going to happen, with all of the stress and the fact that Dean had been out in the cold without a coat on was just bound to make him sick like this. 

Not that Sam was going to mind taking care of Dean. It was pretty much all he had ever wanted to do. Dean had always taken care of Sam, had always made sure that Sam was okay and that he had everything that he needed, and Sam guessed now was just the time to turn that all around. And it was great, it was going to be so great. Well, apart from the fact that Dean was actually sick, because that was not so great. 

It was just that old Dean would never let Sam take care of him, never. He'd probably rather kiss a demon than that he would ever admit to anyone that he was sick, or that he was in pain, or that there was anything wrong with him at all. This whole stubborn thing usually caused more than a few problems between all of them, most of those problems ending up with Dean only getting hurt more. 

"S'mmy," Dean mumbled, looking up at Sam through half-lidded eyes as he wiped his mouth free from drool that had escaped from between those plump lips during the night. "Don't feel s'good." 

"I know baby boy," Sam softly said, reaching out to run his hand through Dean's hair softly, smiling comfortingly at his big brother. "Try to get some more sleep, okay? When you wake up I'll get you something that'll make you feel better, I promise." 

"Kay," Dean muttered, letting his head fall back down on the pillow and his eyes slipped close again. Sam watched him with a soft smile on his lips for a while, his entire body feeling warm with the fact that his brother finally looked so peaceful and relaxed, something he hadn't done in years. It made Sam feel so great to see that something like this, something simple and easy and innocent as regressing his age in his mind made Dean feel so much better. Sam wasn't going to take that away from him, never, because he would do the same for Dean as Dean would do for him. He would do anything for his older brother, anything to make him feel better and happier. Anything at all. 

He had tried to do things for Dean over the years, he really had. He had tried to give up so much for Dean just to make him happy, but Dean usually wouldn't let him do that. Of course, Dean had been raised to do this. He had been raised with the idea that he should be the one who should make Sam happy, Dean who had been raised with the idea that he wasn't worth anything other than what Sam didn't want or need. It was pretty logical that Dean wasn't going to accept anything from Sam while he thought that Sam might need it.

But, this was finally the time that Sam was going to be able to take care of Dean and he could finally tell Dean that he could very well take care of himself and that there was nothing wrong with accepting help from someone else. 

Sam grabbed the covers, tucking Dean in a bit better so he was nice and warm underneath of them, before he went to the bathroom to take a quick shower before he went into the small kitchen of the motel room. He knew they still had some tea left from the last time one of them had been sick (probably Sam, Dean would never be caught drinking tea) and some cold medicine that he was going to give to Dean in the hopes of making him feel at least a little bit better.

Once Sam was done making Dean a light breakfast and his tea, he heard quiet shuffling footsteps coming towards him. Sam turned around, almost wanting to actually squeal at the sight in front of him (Sam Winchester was not afraid to admit that cute things could actually make him squeal, when things got too adorable he just couldn't help himself). Dean was standing there in one of Sam's hoodies, one that was large even for Sam so on Dean it looked like the clothing item was trying to swallow him whole, something that only added to the cuteness overload. The oldest Winchester was rubbing at his eyes tiredly, his cheeks flushed red from the fever he most likely had and one foot clothed in a black sock, the other one laying on the floor next to the bed. 

"Hey kiddo," Sam softly said, making Dean look up at him with glazed over eyes, sniffling a little. "How are you feeling now?"

"Head hurts," Dean said before he sneezed, letting out a pathetic whimper afterwards, making Sam frown at him. "S cold, Sammy, don'feel good."

"I know, sweetheart," Sam softly said, reaching out to put his hand on Dean's forehead again. "Why don't you go and sit on the bed? Make yourself comfortable, okay? I'll get you breakfast and some tea and you'll feel better soon." Dean nodded, giving Sam an uncertain look before he went back to the bed, putting the pillows down against the headboard like he remembered seeing dad do it once when Dean was playing with Sam on the couch- which reminded Dean, he really needed to ask if Sam wanted to play with him soon.

"Sammy?" Dean called out, making Sam turn to him again with a concerned expression on his face. 

"Yeah? What's wrong?" Sam asked, grabbing the bowl with sugary cereal with the medicine mixed in (he remembered something about Dean saying he always used to give Sam his medicine like this because Sam wouldn't take the pills when he would just give them, so maybe this would work better with Dean) and the cup of tea before he walked over to his big brother who was watching him with wide eyes.

"C- Can we play together soon?" Dean asked, all innocent and adorable and Sam was not going to survive this because his heart was going to melt in his chest from the cuteness that was little Dean Winchester. "Wanna play games with you, Sammy. Can we? Please?"

"Of course, baby," Sam nodded, making Dean smile wide, seemingly very happy with the answer. "Once you feel better we'll go out and buy some toys to play with, okay? But, only when you feel better, and no telling me that you feel better now just because you want to get toys, okay? You need to feel better for me to play with you, okay?" 

"Okay, Sammy," Dean nodded, smiling a little. "Can I have breakfast now?"

"Sure buddy," Sam smiled, handing Dean the bowl of cereal while he sat down onto the bed next to Dean, the cup of tea in his own hands while he watched Dean eat happily, humming around spoonfuls of cereal. This was literally the best thing ever- or well, Dean was the best thing ever. And the fact that Sam was finally able to take the weight off of his brother's shoulders for a while, only made Sam happier about this whole thing...