Supernatural Sickfic Oneshots

Two Sick Hunters is a Lot of Work Part 2

I had a ton of people ask for a sequel, so here we go. Enjoy!

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When you woke up at 1:30 a.m, shivering with a sore throat, you knew you were doomed. If you hadn't have taken  care of Sam and Dean, you probably wouldn't have gotten sick, but you couldn't bring yourself to abandon them.

You got out of bed gingerly, feeling like you had run a marathon, leaving you achy all over. You definitely felt crappy, making you wish you had figured out a cure when the boys were sick.

You walked out to the living room with the intent to get a drink of water, but jumped in surprise when you saw that Sam was sitting at the table working on his laptop.

"Hey Sam," you croak hoarsely, flinching at how bad your voice sounded.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Sam asked, closing his laptop quickly to be able to focus on you more directly.

You shake your head no, feeling all the color drain from your cheeks.

"Dean?!" Sam called loudly, as he got up and led you to sit down at the table.

"What?" Dean grumbled, walking into the kitchen sleepily, but at a rushed speed. Seeing no sign of danger, he glared at Sam. "You do know what time it is, right?" he demanded, folding his arms over his chest.

"Y/N caught out bug." Sam said, rolling his eyes at Dean's immature behavior.

Dean sighed softly, before leaning against the wall and looking over at you.

"You okay over there?" He asked gently, noticing you were still ghostly pale.

"No, my stomach hates me." You groan, doubling over in your seat, with your arms wrapped tightly around your pissed off stomach.

"Let's get you to the bathroom." Sam suggested, offering you his hand to help you up.

You take his hand and stand up slowly, keeping a tight grip on his hand as the change in movement made you feel extremely dizzy. The dizziness made you feel like you might pass out.

Sam slowly, but urgently, led you towards the hall and bathroom, but you didn't last long.

You hiccup loudly, clapping a hand over your mouth, as vomit rushed up your throat and dripped from between your fingers.

"Crap!" Dean exclaimed in surprise. He stood dumbfounded, watching the tiny dribbles of vomit, on the floor, become a small puddle.

Sam gently pulled your hand away from your mouth, ignoring the white strings of saliva that got on his own hand.

You look at him questioningly, before vomiting on the growing puddle on the floor.

Dean jumped, as the sudden splash of vomit caught him off guard, and made him step away from the hallway wall. He wrinkled his nose, as your vomiting was making his own stomach flip in memory, especially when he saw your vomit had nearly splattered his bare feet.

"Crap." he mumbled, earning a glare from Sam, who was attempting to keep a hand on your arm to stop you from falling into your own mess, as he remembered the overwhelming dizziness he experienced only two days before.

"Bucket, bowl, bin, or something?" Sam requested, giving Dean a pointed look, looking like he was about to murder his big brother.

Dean looked at Sam briefly, before chuckling and grabbing a bin quickly. He handed it to you, and slipped around the puddle, looking at the floor to avoid the mess. He walked to the bathroom, disappeared, and reappeared with an armload of towels.