You and the brothers have been hunting together for a while now, navigating the treacherous landscapes of the supernatural with a bond forged in fire and blood. But after a particularly grueling hunt, you begin to notice something off about Dean. He's usually the picture of strength and resilience, but now he's struggling to keep up, his movements sluggish and his breaths labored.

At first, you brush it off as exhaustion from the hunt, but as the days wear on, Dean's condition only seems to worsen. He's constantly coughing, his body wracked with fever, and you can see the strain etched on his face. It's like watching a mighty oak tree slowly wither away, and it fills you with a sense of unease.

You try to broach the subject with Dean, but he brushes off your concerns with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"_ I'm fine," he insists, his voice hoarse with effort. "Just a little under the weather, that's all."

But you know better than to believe him.

You've seen Dean soldier through injuries that would have left most people bedridden, but this feels different. There's a vulnerability in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine, a silent plea for help that he's too proud to voice out loud....