Why Is It Always Sammy?

He's Too Young For All This

"Take a left up here."
Sam told Dean as he neared the exit of the highway.
The boys were on a hunt with their father. They were supposed to meet their father in a few hours for a witch hunt. John had handled worse but there was a rumor that there was about six witches that needed to die in one place.
Dean looked over to Sam. He stared out the window with the GPS in his lap. He looked half asleep. That didn't surprise Dean. He had heard Sam whimpering and tossing most of the night, and his discomfort didn't stop when Dean came over and rubbed his back soothingly like it always helped.
Dean put on a smirk and gave his little brother's hair good ruffle, even if it was under a beanie.
"Hey,"
Sam laughed as he fixed the hat.
He yawned deeply.
"You tired, little guy?"
Dean asked. Sam was four years younger than him but he still hated being acknowledged as 'little'.
"Kind of."
Sam said and shifted in his seat.
"Why don't you take a nap?"
Dean asked him as he took a slight concern at his little brother's sudden change in demeanor.
"Okay."
Sam said as he pulled another blanket over him.
"Hey, how's your stomach? Still hurt a little?"
Sam had complained to Dean about slight stomach pain that morning. It wasn't bad, but he knew he had to voice it to Dean, especially on a hunt. He knew Dean would take care of him with anything from paper cuts to stitches.
"It's still aching, but it's bearable."
Sam mumbled.
"Do you want some more Advil?"
Sam shook his head and dozed off.
    Dean smiled at his adorable looking baby brother sleeping.
    He wished he could take a picture.

An hour later, Sam woke up and held his stomach.
"Dean..."
He moaned.
"Hey, sleepy head. How you feelin'?"
"S-sick..."
Dean immediately felt his forehead with the back of his hand and recoiled as soon as he did.
"Crap Sam, you're burning up."
Dean rubbed his knuckles gently against Sam's flushed cheek.
"I think we need to get some Tylenol in you."
Sam scooted over to his brother and leaned into him. Dean felt his hot skin but knew Sam was freezing by the way he shivered. Dean put the heat on a bit higher.
It was two o' clock, five minutes later, when Dean pulled into the truck stop parking lot.
    Before Dean could fully stop the car, Sam jumped out and started to gag harshly beside the car.
"Damn it!"
Dean practically yelled as he got out of the car.
Sam hunched and put his hands on his knees. Dean ran to his brother's side and rubbed his back.
"De-..."
Sam started but was cut off by another sharp heave.
"Shh, shh, don't talk, just breath."
    Once the twelve year old boy was finished, he mumbled shyly.
"Everyone saw."
    Dean always knew Sam was shy when it came to having a problem in public. Especially when he was sick.
    Dean looked up from his brother's pale face and saw a few rude spectators staring at them.
    Dean helped Sam stand straight and walked him into the truck stop. As he walked he quickly flipped the still staring jerks off.
     Sam clung to Dean's shirt and coat like a life line. Dean sighed and gently patted his back.
A sick Sam meant a clingy Sam.
Dean was just about to settle him in a chair so he could drink a cup of water when he felt the boy's muscles tighten in his grip.
Dean immediately steered him into the bathroom.
Sam did all but run into the first stall. Before Dean went to comfort him, he locked the door so it was only him and his brother in the room.
Dean quickly went into the small stall behind his brother and found him kneeling and heaving.
In a very awkward position, Dean bent over his small frame and rubbed his back gently. Sam whimpered whenever Dean would whisper relaxing words in his ear to calm him.
"I'm so sorry."
Sam said after a couple of powerful heaves.
"For what?"
Dean never stopped rubbing his back and shoulders as they spoke.
"T-th-this..."
Sam shivered.
"Don't be, buddy. It's not like you wanted to be sitting here on a dirty, public bathroom floor puking your guts up."
"Ohhhh!"
Sam moaned as his head rolled back over the toilet in an another attempt to empty his throbbing stomach.
"Okay, okay, just relax, I'm here. I'm right here, calm down."
Dean had to take one hand to hold Sam's forehead up, and the other to relax the hand that groped the air in search for Dean.
"Deep breaths, good boy, cough it all up."