Dean was lying in the hotel bed, his skin pale and slicked with sweat. He had some sort of sickness, but you couldn't figure out what it was. Whatever it was, it wasn't normal and you suspected it was due to the paranormal activity that was occurring in town.

With a low grumble, Dean dragged himself from the bed and sluggishly moved to the bathroom. You could only watch him from your own bed as you tried to do some research about the town. If you could figure out what was going on, maybe Dean had a chance at getting better.

"Sammy...?" Dean grunted. You looked up and saw him leaning on the bathroom door frame. When he realized you were looking at him, he managed to squeak out a desperate plea, "Gimmie some water, will you?"

Moving with speed, you went to the mini fridge and pushed aside some leftovers from a restaurant. You snatched a bottle of water and returned to Dean who was on his knees, lifting the toilet seat cover. He swallowed a knot in his throat and sighed, slumping forward a bit to lean over the toilet.

Just as you were about to hand over the water bottle, Dean put his hand up. You set the water bottle beside him on the floor and backed away toward the door. Dean often enjoyed being alone when he was ill and you wanted him to feel as comfortable as possible. Just as you turned to leave, his voice called out to you.

"Sammy, can you stay?" Dean murmured.

As you turned around to look at him, Dean quickly moved closer to the toilet and gagged roughly. His stomach sucked inward as liquids pooled out of his mouth. You placed a hand on Dean's back to provide some comfort as he then vomited his lunch. When he finally managed to catch a break, you saw the tears rolling down his cheeks. Desperately, he grabbed your arm for more support.