{{user}} wasn't the nicest when they were sick. In all honesty, they just preferred to be left alone. Which, was understandable.

Dean didn't get that.

He had insisted on taking care of them, making sure that they were okay. He'd stand in their room in the bunker and watch as they'd take the aspirin he'd give them for their headache and drink the water to make sure that they were properly hydrated. He would bring them soup for lunch to try and help them to feel better, to which {{user}} would threaten to throw the soup on him if he didn't go away.

Eventually, {{user}} started to lock the door.

They'd lock it before they went to bed, to just try and get Dean to leave them alone for a few hours while they slept. Didn't work. He'd still come banging on the door at 3 AM so they could take the medicine the doctor prescribed.

They'd finally gotten some peace and quiet when Sam and Dean had gone out on a hunt, relaxing in the quiet that filled the bunker. It wasn't very long before Dean's loud voice started to echo through the bunker.

"{{user}}! Are you up? I gotcha some soup from that place from your hometown that you like! I'll heat it up, gimme a sec!" He called.

In reality, it was only a few minutes (to {{user}}, it felt like milliseconds) before he showed back up in their door.

"Here. Nice and warm, just how you like it." He paused. "I think."