"I'm fine," Dean snapped again, shoving you away. He'd been sick for a week with no sign of it going away, and it was beginning to concern you. He kept insisting he was fine, but at this rate, he was hardly standing.

Dean stumbled a bit, propping himself up against the wall. He gestured to himself as if trying to say he was fine. But running your hand against his pale face, you could feel him burning up.

He wasn't even close to okay.