A/N : I'm glad you guys still want to read this. So, carry on reading.

-SPNSPNSPSN-

"Pregnant? No, I definitely am not!" Sam exclaimed in absolute horror. "I have something growing inside my stomach, that's all."

"But doesn't that define what pregnancy is?"

Sam glowered back as if Dean was being utterly obtuse. "Pregnancy is when a woman carries a developing offspring within her body. Firstly, I'm clearly not a woman. Secondly, this is not my offspring, if indeed there is a freaking thing inside me which I don't know what! If you're here to make jokes, just get out and leave me alone!"

Dean raised his eyebrows at his brother's outburst. But before he could say a word, Sam deflated with a sigh, slumping against the wall in defeat. "Look, sorry about that. I don't know what came over me."

"Forget it." Dean smiled reassuringly back. "You are seriously ill. I can understand if you're frustrated."

"I'm more than frustrated. This is not a simple illness that we can cure, Dean. This is a disaster! How am I going to get out of this mess? I can't even go to the hospital, not like this. Imagine the kinds of experiment they're gonna put me through."

"I won't let it, okay? We still have Cass. He can look you over and heal you back to normal." Dean wondered out loud then, "When he scanned you last night, why didn't he realize that something's not right with you?"

"I think he did try to tell us. Remember he said something about my unbalance hormones or something? But I didn't want to listen." Sam looked sheepish. "Besides, whatever the hell this thing is, it wasn't fully developed last night. Not like it is today."

Sam looked down at his swollen belly and then at his bare feet, before chuckling without humor. "I get all the luck, don't I? Typical me. Abducted, possessed, infected, gotten hurt again and again. And now I'm pregnant…sort of. Yep. I win it all."

His chuckles then turned to pitiful whimpers, which prompted Dean to quickly take action before things could go further downhill.

"Hey, hey, Sammy. None of that, okay?" Dean reached over to grasp his brother's shoulders, giving them a firm shake. "It's not the end of the world yet, brother. Not as long as you have me. You still feel like throwing up? No? Good. Then let's get you off the cold floor. Don't want to get you more ill than you already are."

Slowly, with Dean's help, Sam climbed to his feet with a grimace. "Agh…My back hurts."

Wincing with sympathy, Dean draped Sam's right arm around his shoulders. Sam was taller and heavier, but Dean had been taking care of his younger brother since he was a baby so he managed to support Sam's weight with ease. "You need to lie down then. Let's get you back to your room."

"I don't want to lie down. Let's go to the library," Sam protested, pulling his brother along despite his frailty.

"What for?"

"Research."

"In your condition?"

"I'm not an invalid, Dean. I'm just…"

"Pregnant?"

"Stop saying that!"

"But you said it just now!"

"Well, I regret it already!"

Dean sighed with a roll of his eyes. "Okay, okay! No need to fight about it. Jeez."

"Sorry, Dean."

"Just shut up and keep walking, brat."

At the library, Dean carefully helped Sam into a chair next to a study desk. He frowned to see the sheen of sweat on his brother's face. He could even feel the heat radiating of Sam's body.

"I think you're running a fever." Dean used the back of his hand to feel Sam's forehead. "Yep. You are. I'll go get you some paracetamol."

"Can you get me my sweats and hoodie too? It's freezing in here," Sam requested, rubbing his arms.

Dean nodded. "Okay. I'll go and get 'em."

"Bring my laptop also."

"Alright."

"Uh…need some apple juice too," the younger Winchester added.

Dean halted at the doorway with a glare. But at seeing the earnest yet miserable glint in his brother's puppy-dog eyes, Dean's gaze softened. "Sure, Sammy. Paracetamol, apple juice, laptop, sweats and hoodie coming up. Not necessarily in that order. Just sit tight, okay? If you need to throw up, the trash can is right by your feet."

Minutes later, Dean returned with his arms full of Sam's requests. He helped the younger man into the sweats and hoodie, gave him the dose of paracetamol, before heading towards the kitchen to get the apple juice.

Sam instantly got himself distracted by his laptop. He pulled files after files and delved into various sites. Once in a while he would get off his seat to get a journal or some books from the shelves. However, even the Men of Letters' extensive library couldn't help give result to his frantic research.

Dean returned soon after, carrying a tray filled with a bottle of apple juice, a plate of crackers, and a stack of veggie sandwiches. He placed the tray in front of his brother. "Here you go."

Sam stared at the crackers and sandwiches. "What's this?"

"Breakfast. Or should I say, brunch?"

Screwing his face, Sam took the juice but pushed away the rest. "I'm not hungry."

"Sure you are," Dean said, taking a seat across the table. "It's almost noon now. You haven't eaten anything since dinner yesterday."

"I'll be fine without food for another few hours. Still nauseous."

"So, what? You're doing research with no fuel? Sammy, you can't think straight on an empty stomach."

Sam raised his eyebrows and gave his swollen belly a telling look before raising his gaze back to his older brother.

Dean sighed. "Aw, you know what I mean. Come on, dude. Eat something."

"I don't think I can hold it down."

"At least eat the crackers. Pregnant women loved them."

If looks could kill, Dean would have died writhing on the floor. Still, scowling, Sam took a cracker and bit into it with more force than necessary. His expression gradually changed as he chewed. He looked up in surprise. "It tastes real good. "

"Right?" Dean beamed with pride, as if he had accomplished something monumental.

"When did you get this? I didn't know we have stocks of crackers in our kitchen."

"I believe it's Cass' doing. He must have gone grocery shopping while we were away. You should see the inside of the fridge, man. We have food supply that will last for a month! Bless that angel." Dean leaned forward, showing Sam his phone. "Now, talking about the angel, I've tried calling Cass while I was in the kitchen. No go. The call went straight to voice mail."

"Maybe the network doesn't work in Gaza," Sam commented, munching on his third piece of crackers.

"Or maybe he's inside a tomb or a cave underneath the pyramid."

"That's pyramid of Giza, not Gaza."

"Shut up, geek." Dean flipped Sam's laptop around towards him. "What have you found out so far?"

"About the cockrotoa? Nothing," Sam said. "The same result I got when I did the research last two days. Of course, I didn't use the actual word 'cockrotoa' due to obvious reason. I searched everything on cockroaches and reproductions via stabbing in the stomach and male pregnancy, but they sent me to all kinds of hardcore sexual sites. Ugh. I'm gonna have nightmares for weeks!"

Dean had the gall to laugh out loud. Sam opened his mouth to lay into his brother but he cried out instead, grabbing his midsection with both hands.

"Sam?" Dean was instantly on his feet to kneel next to his brother's chair. "What's wrong? Are you hurting?"

"Unghhh…" Sam moaned, bending over with his eyes closed. Lines of pain was etched on his face. "It moves…gah!"

Dean kept a supporting grip on his brother's arm, letting Sam know that he was not alone as he rode the pain. Several fretful minutes later, Sam straightened up, looking real pale. "That…that was…h...horrible. Jeez."

Feeling helpless, Dean could only give his brother's arm a comforting squeeze. "How can I help?"

Smiling weakly, Sam shook his head. "You being here is help enough, Dean. I just…just wish that there's some kind of a warning. That was real scary. I never felt such thing in my whole life."

He grunted and clasped his stomach again. "This is…this is insane. I know something is growing inside me but…what the hell is it? Is it really a cockrotoa or something else?"

"I don't want to scare you, Sammy, but it could be more than one," Dean said. "Do you mind if I have a look?"

Sam nodded. Wincing, he pulled up his hoodie and t-shirt underneath. The view of his rounded belly was surreal to them both. Dean had to swallow repeatedly to moisten his dry throat before he carefully placed both palms on Sam's stomach.

"I feel it," Dean remarked, mystified, when he felt its slight movement. He could even notice the strange-looking bulges on the tender skin of Sam's belly. "Holy shit."

"Dean…"

At Sam's whimpering, Dean looked up. His younger brother's eyes were swimming with tears.

"I'm totally screwed, am I?"

"No, no, no…" Dean immediately got back to his feet and pulled Sam into his arms. "Do not despair so, little brother. This is so not like you. You're Sam fucking Winchester. You will get through this, I promise."

Pulling back, Dean locked gazes with his brother. "Listen, I'll call Cass again. If I couldn't get hold of him, I'll pray. If that still didn't work, we have no other choice but to take you to the hospital. This is way above my pay grade, man."

Sam was ruefully shaking his head. "They'll think I'm a freak."

"But you are a freak." Dean grinned. He patted the side of his brother's neck with full warmth. "Chin up, Sammy. Hospital will be our last resort. What we really need to do now is finding out what's really growing in there."

"How are we gonna do that?"

Dean was thoughtful for a while. He looked closely at his brother, assessing his condition. "Will you be okay if I leave you for about an hour?"

Sam shrugged. "I think so, sure. Why? Where are you up to?"

"I need to find something that can tell us exactly what it is you're carrying."

"How?"

"I'm gonna go find a portable ultrasound machine."

At Sam's incredulous look, Dean shrugged. "Hey, I dated an OB/GYN doctor. I know what a portable ultrasound machine is."

"Yeah, whatever," Sam responded, having not the slightest interest to hear more about his brother's love life. "How are you going to acquire the machine anyway?"

"Through the same OB/GYN doctor, of course. She has a clinic downtown," Dean said with a big grin. "I'd better go now. I'll be back as soon as I can. Call me if anything happens, alright? I'll come home running."

"Even when you're in the middle of shtupping the said OB/GYN?" Sam teased.

Dean's only response was by flipping Sam the bird, causing the younger Winchester to laugh. As his brother disappeared up the stairs, Sam's laughter dwindled down. He looked down at his belly. It looked as if it had grown bigger within the last few minutes.

Sighing, he pulled the laptop back towards him and resumed his pointless research.

-SPNSPNSPSN-

Dean was not a happy camper. Okay, he managed to borrow a portable ultrasound machine from the clinic, but it was without permission. The cute OB/GYN doctor was still vexed at him over their last disastrous date. No chance of a quick shtupping, then. So Dean had to grab the thing and slipped away with it without the doctor noticing. He vowed to return it later.

Adding to that, Castiel was still unreachable. All his calls went straight to voice mail. Dean had prayed and prayed until his voice had gone hoarse, but no angel came to the rescue.

By the time Dean arrived at the bunker, he had been gone for over an hour. He hurriedly grabbed the case containing the machine and ran inside. He was anxious to see Sam and didn't want to leave him alone for much longer than he intended to.

"Sam, I'm back," Dean was saying as he rushed down the stairs. "Sorry it took a while. I got to do some real sweet talking and it was…"

Dean stared, dumbfounded, at the empty library. There was no sign of his ailing brother.

"Sammy!" Dean called out. No answer.

Worried but not in full panic yet, he headed into the kitchen. Sam was not there either. Dean stopped abruptly and slapped himself on the forehead. "His bedroom, you idiot!"

Turning around, Dean ran down the hallway towards Sam's room. The door was slightly ajar, so he pushed it wider and went in. Sam was abed, lying curl on his side with one arm across his swollen belly.

A bigger swollen belly.

Dean's eyes widened. Holy crap.

"Sam." Keeping his voice low and unthreatening, Dean put down the case and knelt by his brother's bed. "Hey, Sammy. I'm back."

Sam's eyes fluttered open. They were laced with confusion and pain. "D…Dee?"

Dean had to smile. Sam looked like his four-year-old self when he said Dean's name like that. "Yes, brother. It's me."

Sam briefly closed his eyes and emitted a tired smile. "You were gone like…forever."

"I know, sorry. My bad. The OB/GYN doctor I was seeing, she is having PMS or something."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Dean critically ran his gaze up and down Sam's person. His younger brother no longer wore his hoodie—it was draped on the foot of the bed—so the view of his big stomach was even more pronounced. Sam's hair was dampened with sweat, and his face flushed from the heat.

"The paracetamol didn't work, I gather," Dean remarked, as he felt Sam's forehead.

Sam nodded. "I'm a walking furnace."

"I'll get you some cold cloth then to bring the fever down." Dean frowned. "You look beyond exhausted, dude. Can you still walk? How did you get yourself here?"

Sam managed a weak grin. "I crawled."

Although Dean was aghast to hear it, he tried not to let it show on his face. "Sam. Fucking. Winchester."

"Yeah, yeah. I am that," Sam replied. He suddenly broke into a wince and clasped his tummy. "Shit. It just won't stop."

"It continues to move?" Dean also placed his hand there.

"Constantly every ten minutes, like clockwork." Sam gritted his teeth. "That's why I came here to lie down. The pain was worse when I'm vertical."

"Jeez, Sammy…"

"It's okay, Dean. I can still bear it." Sam gave Dean a reassuring look. "So, you got the machine?"

"Yes, right here." Dean patted the case next to him and rose to his feet. "But first I'm gonna get you some water and a cold compress for your fever."

"No. Those can wait," Sam interjected, "Please, Dean. I want to find out what's inside me right now."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but one look at his brother's pleading gaze caused him to relent. "Fine. Let's do it."

Sam watched, fascinated, as Dean opened the case and took out the portable ultrasound machine. Pulling a chair close to the bed, Dean placed the machine on it and began connecting the power cables.

"Um…you know how to do this, right?" Sam asked, albeit uncertain despite himself.

"Yeah. The pretty OB/GYN doctor experimented it on me during one of our dates," Dean explained with lascivious grins. "It was quite a fantastic experience."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Alright, stop. I got the picture, no need to explain."

Dean laughed. When everything was attached and assembled, he said, "Okay, Sammy. You need to fully lie on your back for this to work."

With much effort, Sam obliged. Dean then sat on the edge of the bed by Sam's thigh, pushing the bottom of his brother's t-shirt up to his chest. Afterwards, he smeared some gel all over Sam's belly, causing Sam to flinch.

"Sorry, dude. I know it's cold."

"No problem. Just don't tell anyone about any of this, okay? Or I swear I won't ever talk to you again!"

Dean chuckled. He then grabbed the sensor and held it firmly against his Sam's skin, moving it slowly over the surface. As he did so, both brothers watched the ultrasonic images on the monitor screen with apt attention.

"Son of a bitch…" Sam muttered, staring wide at the sonograms. "It is a cockrotoa."

Dean nodded, also transfixed. "At least it's only one, not more. Look at that. That's the head, the thorax…And what are those?"

"Look like horns." Sam tore his gaze away. "No wonder it hurts so much. Every time it moves…"

"The horns move too and cut you from the inside." Feeling ill, Dean put away the sensor. "This is totally not good. Sam, I wish that I can lessen your pain. I wish that I can do something about it. But I'm real sorry, man. I really have no idea what to do now."

Sam responded by placing one arm across his eyes. His shoulders shook slightly. To Dean's absolute dismay, he realized that his little brother was weeping.

"Sammy…" Dean implored, giving Sam's knee a squeeze.

"I'll be fine, Dean," Sam replied without removing his arm, his voice breaking. "I just…I just need to be left alone for a while, okay?"

Reluctantly, Dean acquiesced. "Okay, Sammy. I'll be in the library and continue with the research. Just holler if you need anything, alright?"

Gently, Dean wiped the remnants of gel from Sam's belly with some Kleenex, packed the portable ultrasound machine, and left the room with a heavy heart.

-SPNSPNSPSN-

"Dean!"

Dean shot awake from his slumber. He thought he had heard his brother crying out his name, but he wondered if it was only a dream.

He glanced at his watch. It had been almost three hours since he had left Sam's room. Ever since then, he had been sitting at the desk in the library, going through the rest of Sam's research as he tried to find something—anything—that could help their case. But soon after, the words on the laptop screen began to jumble altogether, which caused him to go drowsy and putting him to sleep.

This was why Sam was the research expert. He bet that kid could even stay awake during Plato's rendition of epistemology—

"DEAN!"

Holy crap! Sammy!

Jumping off his chair, Dean ran hard like he had never run before. He pushed into Sam's room and went into a standstill, horrified at what he saw.

His younger brother was as he had left him, lying in bed with the blankets pushed off his sweaty form. But there was more. A pool of fresh blood had formed on the bed sheet underneath him. Sam's sweatpants were also not spared, they had turned almost black from it.

"D…Dean…" Sam was stuttering, his eyes tearful. He looked utterly terrified. "H...help…help me…"

TBC…

#AlwaysKeepFighting ^_^