Some Nights

Fake It Til You Make It

caution: contains the spanking of the Winchester brothers and the use of a rectal thermometer.  also: AU where John doesn't die, and continues to hunt with his sons.

"Dean, you okay? You don't look so good." Bobby studied the twenty-six year old sitting at the table, who looking at his plate instead of gobbling the whole thing down in six seconds.

Aware that his father was watching from across the table, Dean slowly put a bite in his mouth, despite his stomach's immediate protesting. "Yeah," He tried to say casually around his food. "I'm fine."

 John's eyes went to his youngest son who was poking at his breakfast with his fork. Sam looked pale, and he was unusually quiet. "Sammy? Everything okay?"

Sam startled, looking up from his plate. "Oh yeah. I'm fine." He gave them a unconvincing grin before stabbing some of his eggs, and sticking them in his mouth.

Bobby and John shared a look over the brothers heads. Something was up, but they just weren't sure what. 

Dean shoved his plate away, still half full. "Man, that was...that was some good cooking, Dad." He gave him a cheeky grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Getting better every day."

"I made it." Bobby corrected him slowly.

"Oh." Dean's eyes went wide, and he grimaced. "So good. Promise."

"Uh-huh. And what's your excuse?" Bobby stared Sam's plate that was still mostly covered in food.

The twenty-two year old shrugged, meeting Bobby's eyes. "I ate so much last night, I'm still full."

"I'm going to go get ready for the hunt." John said, referring to their next case. He held up his hands as both of the boys began to stand. "Your plates need to be emptied."

"What?" Dean protested

"But Dad-" Sam said at the same time.

"No. General hunter rule. When you are offered a good meal, take it. You don't know when the next one will be."

Sam looked at his plate, feeling the nausea rise in his stomach. He pushed it back down, but the more he looked at it, the more it felt like he was going to lose it. "Dad...I'm really not hungry." He tried.

"Me either." Dean said, although quieter.

"It's not a matter for discussion. Eat it." John said simple. He crossed his arms over his chest, watching them. Dean sighed, and began to slowly place the food in his mouth as though it pained him.

Finally, Bobby had enough. "Okay, what the hell is going on with you two? Usually we don't have enough because you scarfed everything down!"

"If you are feeling under the weather, you should stay with Bobby, while I go." John added calmly.

"No!" Dean exclaimed, putting the food in his mouth faster. "I'm fine. Totally good."

"Are you sure?" John studied his oldest. Dean did look a bit pale, and tired. "Maybe a break would do you good."

"I'm fine." Dean repeated, stuffing his face with the rest of the food, and stood up. "Finished." He claimed with his mouth full of food.

"Sammy?"

Sam sighed looking back down at the plate. He wasn't feeling good. He knew it. His hands were shaking, he had chills, but was sweaty, and at any time he felt like he was going to vomit. But he had been looking forward to the hunt, and hated to miss out on it. One look at his brother, and he knew that Dean was feeling the same way he was.