Supernatural Sickfic Oneshots

Sometimes Help Is Needed...

Requested by ShawnieP00. WARNING: GROSS! Y/N is younger than Sam, but ahead in schooling, so she is in the same grade as Sam. 

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You were used to being sick on the road, and you were used to getting sympathy from your brothers, but not your dad. What you didn't expect was to develop such a strong aversion to getting sick, that if you ever did it was not a good situation.

You were sitting on the steps of your high school, waiting for your dad to pick you and Sam and Dean up from school. You were in 9th grade with Sam, and Dean was in 12th grade, but they were always nearby, keeping an eye on you.

Sam sat down beside you, bumping your shoulder, only to see you pale faintly. "What's wrong? Did someone hurt you?" he asked immediately, alerting Dean with his tone.

Dean crouched down in front of you. "What's going on, kiddo?" he asked gently, searching your face.

You looked away quickly, not wanting him to know you just felt like crap on toast. "No one hurt me, I'm fine." you said softly, trying to not sniffle.

"I know fine, and you are not fine, kid." Dean said, earning a look of reprimand from Sam. He shrugged faintly, causing the boy to glare at him.

You sigh softly, before looking at Dean, so he could see that you were pale, had bags under your eyes, and had glassed over feverish eyes. Your friends had pointed them out, arounf lunchtime when you had almost thrown up in the cafeteria, which was completely out of character for you.

Sam's eyes widened slightly, before he pulled you into a gentle hug. "Why didn't you say something about feeling sick?" He asked softly, more concerned than upset.

Dean moved to sit beside you and hug you as well, feeling bad for joshing you earlier. "I'm sorry for bugging you." he said honestly.

"Its fine, Dean. You care, so its okay." You said, meaning every word. "Sammy, I knew we had a hunt tonight, and dad would demand me being there." you add.

Sam nodded his head in understanding, knowing exactly what you meant, as John had a habit of demanding first, asking questions later. He lightly put his cold hand on your forehead, pulling his hand back quickly in surprise.

"She has a doozy brewing." he said, shaking his head at Dean.

Dean sighed softly, knowing the ramifications this would have on all of them, but especially you. "You always did have great timing for getting sick... how's your stomach feeling?" he asked, hoping it wasn't upset at all.

"I'm really nauseous." You admit softly, wrapping your arms around your stomach tightly. "I think I'm gonna need to throw up." you add softly, looking at Dean uncomfortably.

Sam cleared his throat uncertainly. "You sure about that, Y/N?" he asked, as John pulled up in the impala.

"LET'S GO!" John yelled loudly, as all three automatically jumped to do as they were told. "What's wrong with you, Y/N?" he demanded, noticing how pale you were when you got in the car.

You cringed at his tone, but answered anyways. "I'm sick." you admit, as your stomach starts churning aggressively. "Dean..." you whine softly, as you realize just how beyond sick you felt.

Sam looked at you then Dean, then John, before getting an idea. "Dad, can we go home please? I forgot my favorite knife." he pleaded, before slipping said knife to Dean to hide in the car somewhere.