Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its related characters or themes. This is purely non-profit fan-fiction work created to pay homage to an awesome series.

I haven't worked on this project in quite a while, but first~

A big shout-out to laurieglory, lorusgra, casammy, judyann (*hugs*) , Cornish Rhapsody (*woot*), cold kagome (Sam's still sick but still cute :D) , runaway08 (*huggles*), okayokayokay and Souless666! I really wanted to thank you so much for your reviews!

I'm on break now, so *hopefully* will get the next instalments out soon!

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Zombies and Water-works

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Sam's out like a damn light.

Loosely lolling head, deep breaths and the occasional muffled cough was all that was an indicator of life from the youngest Winchester. Sammy might've caught the lesser-measles, but no Winchester has ever caught anything less than severe (in Dean's opinion, that is).

So, Dean's got the action plan in his brain all ready for when they get home. Blankets for Sam, meds for Sam, research on Zombies, lunch and dinner. And burgers, lots of cheese-burgers.

That's why Dean's all smiles, even after the Zombie got the drop on him… and the Impala's windshield. He's not mad though. Actually, he's a bit nostalgic, driving slowly till they reach the motel again. He knows they'll be out hunting later, but for now… Sam can just sleep. And maybe some solo-hunting might not be a bad idea… since Sam's so short and all.

When Dean finally pulls up into the parking lot, he's about to wake Sam up. Only… Sam's so out of it, he doesn't even wake up after the obligatory double-tap to the cheek. So, Dean does what he hasn't done in years. He picks Sam up and cradles him all the way to the room.

When they're finally inside the room, Dean plops Sam down on his bed and wraps the comforter around him, "There you go, taco Sam," Dean grins and checks Sam's temperature. Still a bit on the high side, but at least the meds kicked in and Sam's not hallucinating anymore.

Sleep-walking isn't out of the question though. Dean knows that. Since Sam got kid-a-fied, some of his old habits started creeping in again, and Dean knows that sleep-walking might be a possibility any time soon. But that's okay. Big Bro's got it covered.

He gets the next dose of meds ready for Sam, drops a cool washcloth on the little guy's forehead and finally, extra blanket at the feet. Sam hates it when his feet are cold. Some things just never changed.

That's all Dean's got until Sam wakes up. Which would probably be within an hour or so. That kid cat-naps like a freak when he's sick.

Bobby checks in a while later, not exactly too excited about the Winchesters' progress on this case. "Zombies, are you sure?" Bobby's got that tone again, the one he always used on John.

"Yea, ghanked one of them though, but I'm sure there are at least two more…" Dean says and answers Bobby's next question before the guy could even ask, "And no, haven't found the source."

"Why the hell not, idjit? You've been there for-"

-"Sam's sick. First he gets midget'ed and now he's got German Measles."

"What? How bad?"

"A mild fever, the huffs and puffs… but I can see he's in pain, Bobby… I don't know what to d-" Dean stops himself short. He was definitely not going to go there. Not now. He clears his throat and takes a deep breath, "I'm taking this hunt solo from now on."

"Might be a good idea…" Bobby says after a minute, "Just don't do anything stupid. You need back-up for this?"

"… We'll be fine," Dean snaps suddenly, instantly regretting it. He doesn't want other hunters to see Sam like this, especially now that the kid's sick. Dean feels like an ass when he mutters a 'Sorry' to Bobby. Not like Bobby would care either way –he was used to John's bedside manner- but Dean still has an awkward guilt nestling all up in his grill when Bobby tells him to call when they're done.

Dean finally sits down on his own bed, flips open Sam's computer and checks first what started the 'Day of the Dead'. Websites upon websites of 'Keep Calm and Kill Zombies' don't really cut it and 'LolZombie' distracted him long enough from his mission. And, of course, finding out any similar events of the past few years in the area was the next part of the plan… only, it's a small town and websites like popular destinations.

And, an hour later, best he got is the origins of the T-virus and a voodoo curse. Dean's leaning on the voodoo though, he knows that that is actually a possibility.

"DEAN~!" Sam bolts up the bed, clutching his sheets and face twisted in pain.

Before Dean even realizes it he's kneeling at Sam's side, palming his cheek and checking for injuries, "What i-is it?!" the words even come stuttering. He grins his teeth, forcing himself to focus. But, it's hard to focus when your five-year-old brother needs you with tears in his eyes.

Sam looks at Dean for a minute, as if only now realizing that he was awake. He smiles- reassured that Dean was there- that the werewolf hasn't chased him down and Dean hasn't disappeared. But, then it really hits him and he suddenly shrinks in on himself. He only now started realizing just how much like a kid he had become. How nightmares were suddenly friggin scary again. How small he suddenly is in comparison to the world around him. How weak he now feels. "… Sorry," he swallows hard and sighs, "Stupid nightmares…". He shakes his head, trying to stop himself from bawling like a girl

And then, when Dean sits next to him and pulls Sam into a hug, tears is all Sam can see.

It's been years upon years since Sam had actually openly cried. Years since Dean had to wake up to Sam's nightmares. Years since Sam let Dean see that part of him. Somewhere along the lines of hunting and monsters, fears were hidden away in that little box Sam stored in his brain. Sam's little box of fears… fears of shadows, thunderstorms, monsters and Dean –not Dad- leaving for good.

Dean's got a firm hold on his shoulder and doesn't try to make him stop crying. That probably makes it worse.

The tears don't stop, no matter how many times Sam rubs at his eyes. His hiccups won't stop no matter how deep he tries to breathe. Sometimes his sneezes and cough come at the same time and Dean's got more tissues, pulling them out of thin air like a magician. But Sam's irritated and lonely and tired and hurt and hot and doesn't want to let go of the one part of Dean's jacket that he has a hold on.

There's no "just suck it up", "be a man", "We're hunters, Sammy" or even "Don't be such a bitch" coming from Dean. None of it. None of the usual pokes or jibs about getting sick on a hunt. Nothing.

All those years of training. Being tough enough. The obstacle courses, the weapons-training, the hunting… everything. The all-nighters studying through lore and mythology. Sam's physical body still carries the scarring and callouses… but he couldn't even open the car door on his own without trouble, let alone use his gun without almost crumbling from the kick-back… his mind still had the hunter's knowledge, but it was like, it was all worthless now. And that just sucked.

Knowing what to do and unable to do it. Not being useful. Wasn't that what Dad had always said? 'If you're not useful, you're a dead-weight'… and dead-weights need to be cut loose. That was Sam's one fear. Always. Not to be cut-off from his father, no, that wasn't Sam's worst fear. It was that Dean would realize how much better off he might be without his brother. Sam's worst fear was that Dean would leave him behind and never come back for him.

For the longest time Sam and Dean just sit there, but it's like nothing ever changed since they were kids. Dean makes sure Sam drinks enough water when he calms, checks his fever and makes sure his little brother's all medicated and wrapped up in a blanket-taco again… because, that's just what Dean always does.

The older Winchester's still sitting at Sam's side when the younger brother can't even keep his tired arms up. Sam yawns and Dean's still holding him. Sam smiles and rest his head down on Dean's arm, just this once. Maybe, for all being a kid's worth, this wasn't too bad.

Dean still just keeps rubbing Sam's back, not saying a word. And all Sam understands is: Don't worry, Sammy. Your Big Bro's got you.

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Thanks for reading! Please drop me a pm or review if you liked it, I'd really appreciate it! *hearts floating*