Sam's reaction to John dying and Dean obsessing over his car. Bobby has to step in. Spoilers through Season 2.

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"Dean, have you seen Sam?" Bobby asked, the older Winchester.

"I ain't his keeper." Dean grumbled back, from underneath the impala.

Bobby looked at Dean, or well what he could see of Dean which was his legs, thoughtfully, wondering what was causing this behavior from the boy that used to be obsessed with keeping tabs on his little brother. He understood that John had died, but he wasn't exactly close to either of the boys. 

"Well if you see him, send him inside." Bobby said gruffly, stomping away. 

Dean waved him off, not really in the mood to play babysitter to his adult little brother. He'd much rather focus on something less emotional... his dad's, or rather his impala.

Bobby stomped inside, picking up his phone, and dialed the younger Winchester again. The call went automatically to voicemail again, and caused the older man to feel a slight sense of panic.

He walked into the boys' bedroom, no sign of the younger Winchester. He could see Sam's backpack and duffle were on the floor, at the end of his bed. Seeing that helped Bobby relax a bit, knowing the boy hadn't run off again. 

He walked back out to the kitchen, as he started cooking for the three of them. He listened to the quiet around him, jumping slightly when he heard a muffled thump. It wasn't the same as any of the noises made by Dean fixing the impala, it sounded more like something big falling down. He moved to check the only area he hadn't, the basement.

He looked down the stairs, hearing muffled moans and thumping noises. He ran down the stairs in concern, gasping at what he saw. 

"Sam! Easy," Bobby gasped, rushing to the boy's side. 

Sam was locked in a grand mal seizure, flailing about and gagging on his own breath. He couldn't stop seizing, and it was making it hard for him to breathe.

Bobby rolled Sam onto his side, clapping him on the back gently. "Breathe, kid." he said, as Sam vomited on the ground beside his head. 

He held Sam against him, helping the boy calm down. He sighed in relief, when he saw that the seizure was subsiding finally. 

"Hey kid, how are you feeling?" he asked, when he saw Sam struggling to open his eyes.

"Bobby?" Sam moaned softly, whimpering at the pain that was shooting through him. 

"Hey kiddo," Bobby said gruffly, wiping the sweaty hair off the boy's forehead. 

"Was it a seizure?" Sam asked, wrinkling his nose when he looked down at his wet pants and the small puddle of vomit.

"Yeah, has this been happening a lot?" Bobby asked in concern, just then noticing that Sam had wet his pants. 

"Only since the accident. Doctor said they'd go away eventually." the boy explained weakly. 

"Okay, well, let's get you cleaned up and get some tylenol in your system, you're going to have one hell of a headache." Bobby said gently, standing up and slowly pulling Sam to his feet. 

"Bobby..." Sam whimpered. gasping out as he doubled over. 

"Easy, kid, what's wrong?" Bobby asked quickly, bracing the boy firmly.

"My stomach hurts." Sam whispered weakly, as he coughed a couple times trying not to throw up again. 

"Come on, let's get you upstairs to the bathroom." Bobby suggested, guiding a hunched over Sam upstairs slowly. 

"Mhm..." Sam mumbled weakly, feeling too sick to try to talk to Bobby at the moment.

Bobby guided Sam to the bathroom, sitting him down on the edge of the tub. He walked back into the boys' room, found clean clothes for Sam, and walked back into the bathroom.

Sam was dozing on the wall beside him, and jerked awake fearfully. He clamped a hand over his mouth, as all the color drained from his face. 

"Its okay, let it out." Bobby said, putting the clothes on the counter and rotated Sam towards the tub. 

Sam looked at Bobby in shock, confused as he gagged, throwing up in the tub. He flinched as he heard the liquid splatter on the tub, splashing everywhere. 

"Gross..." Sam mumbled, gagging harder. More liquid splattered on the tub's floor.

"It's alright, Sammy." Bobby encouraged gently, rubbing circles on Sam's back. 

"Where's Dean?" Sam gasped weakly, throwing up again. The bitter taste in his mouth wasn't making it easy to not gag again, which caused more liquid to splatter in the tub.

"He's outside. Do you need him?" Bobby asked gently, hoping that Dean would be willing to help. 

"No..." Sam said quickly, retching violently. He dropped to his knees beside the tub, bent in half over the tub's edge. He retched harder and harder, straining to empty his upset stomach. 

"Easy, kid, breathe." Bobby said gruffly, clapping Sam's back gently. 

Sam gasped loudly, throwing up again weakly. He wheezed, panting as he tried to catch his breath. He shook and shivered, wrapping his arms around himself trying desperately to warm up.

"Come on, kid, let's get you changed and resting on the couch." Bobby instructed, helping Sam stand up again. 

"Can you help me?" Sam asked shyly, shivering so hard he could barely stand upright. 

"Of course," Bobby answered automatically, helping Sam change his pants and boxers, into sweats. He gently lifted the boy's shirt off, slipping on a t-shirt quickly afterward.

He led Sam out to the couch, wrapping a blanket around him. He grabbed a big bowl and brought it to Sam, with a glass of water and tylenol.

"Small sips." Bobby said sternly, wondering why Sam didn't want Dean carrying for him. 

"Thanks Bobby," Sam said with a tired nod, as he quickly swallowed the tylenol and a couple sips of water.

"Sure kid. Why did you ask about Dean?" Bobby asked in concern.

"All he cares about is Dad's car, I've tried talking to him... But he doesn't want me, or to talk to me." Sam said dejectedly. He felt miserable, and all he wanted was Dean, but he couldn't bring himself to ask.  

"He cares a lot about you, he is just hurting right now. Just like you are." Bobby pointed out kindly, his heart breaking for the shivering, sick boy in front of him. 

Sam nodded, not looking convinced as he dozed off, holding the bowl tightly to his side. Bobby shook his head, seeing Sam's position and knowing the kid needed his big brother. 

He walked quickly outside, searching for Dean. "Boy, its time to eat, go inside and get cleaned up a bit." he said gruffly, completely forgetting about the puke in the tub.

"Whatever." Dean said, slipping out from under the impala and getting up off the ground. He walked inside, headed straight for the bathroom. He was completely oblivious as to Sam asleep on the couch, and could have honestly cared less at the particular moment in time. 

He walked into the bathroom, gasped and shut the door quickly. "What the hell happened in here?!" He demanded of the older man. 

Bobby groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in aggravation. "Sorry about that Dean." He said quickly. 

"Are you sick, Bobby?" Dean asked in concern, looking the older man up and down. In his mind the older man looked fine, nowhere near as weak as whoever threw up in the tub.

"No, I ain't sick! You idjit! It was Sam, he is really sick." Bobby snapped angrily at the older Winchester. "Did you know he has been having seizures?" he demanded, on a roll now that he was pissed. 

"Wait... what?! Sammy's having seizures?! What do you mean?! He was fine earlier!" Dean yelled back, more out of shock and worry than anger. 

"I came inside to find him in the basement, he was having what's known as a grand mal seizure. He said the doc told him they would go away over time, but he was also really sick. He has a fever and has been throwing up a lot. Not to mention that he feels like you could care less about him." Bobby spat, walking away into the kitchen.

Dean stood in the hallway dumbfounded, as he tried to figure out what on earth had happened. Sam had been fine, and suddenly he was having seizures and sick. How had he missed that much about his little brother?! He always knew when the kid was miserable, so he should have noticed. 

He shook his head, trying to ease his guilt as he turned back to the bathroom and opened the door apprehensively. He gagged softly, as he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower to wash away the puke. Once the shower was clean, he shut the door and turned up the temperature of the water. He made sure to leave the door unlocked as he undressed and got in the shower quietly. 

Sam woke up a few minutes later, feeling gurgles in his lower stomach. Crap, not good. He got up weakly, stumbling towards the bathroom with the bowl in hand. He saw the door was shut, so he knocked quickly as his stomach gurgled again. He didn't have time to wait for whomever was in the bathroom to finish, even if he had to use the tub.

He opened the door quickly, dropped his sweats, and down on the toilet in a rush. His bowels evacuated loudly, causing him to flinch and Dean to jump. 

"Sorry..." Sam slurred weakly, putting the bowl on his lap as he felt bile in the back of his throat.

"Sammy? You okay, bro?" Dean asked, peeking his head out of the shower to look at his brother. 

Sam shook his head, as his bowels evacuated again, causing him to retch into the bowl in his lap. "Don't feel good..." he whimpered softly, looking as miserable as he felt. 

"Okay, hang on. Let me dry off and get dressed." Dean said, turning off the water and grabbing his towel. He dried off quickly, wrapping the towel around his waist so he could walk past Sam without making it any more awkward than it needed to be.

"Bobby, do you have any pepto?" Dean called, once he got in the hallway. 

"Are you feeling sick too?" Bobby asked worriedly, popping his head into the hallway from the kitchen. 

"No, its for Sam. He's got it coming from both ends." Dean called back, throwing on a clean t-shirt and jeans. 

"Yeah, I got some. I'll put it on the table by the couch." Bobby said, grabbing the med from the kitchen and putting it on the table. 

"Dean?" Sam called weakly from the bathroom, retching violently afterward. 

"Thanks Bobby! I'm coming kiddo. Hang in there." Dean said, sprinting back to the bathroom. He walked into the bathroom to see Sam hunched over the bowl, and pale as a sheet. 

"De' it hurts..." Sam whimpered weakly, retching into the bowl harshly. 

"I know, Sammy. Its okay, let it out. You'll be okay." Dean said gently. He walked out to the couch, grabbing the pepto and walked back to Sam quickly. "Here take some of this. It should help with the diarrhea." he suggested. 

Sam nodded slowly, opening the med and taking a big gulp. He grimaced, gagging at the flavor. 

"I know its gross, try to keep it down, yeah?" Dean suggested gently. He sat down on the tub's edge, rubbing light circles on Sam's back. 

"I can't, Dean..." Sam warned, gagging again softly. As if to prove his point, he gagged again and all the pink liquid appeared in the bowl on his lap. 

"Aw man, you got it bad." Dean said sympathetically. He brushed Sam's sweaty hair from the boy's forehead. 

Sam nodded slowly, retching violently. His bowels evacuated again, eliciting a weak moan from the sick boy. 

"Easy, Sammy, easy." Dean said gently, ignoring the smells surrounding him as he stayed fully focused on his little brother. 

Sam whimpered softly, breathing slowly as his body finally calmed down again. "I think its stopped." he whispered weakly. 

"Okay, i'll be right outside if you need my help." Dean said, getting up and walking out of the bathroom. 

Sam cleaned himself up slowly, rinsed out the bowl, and walked out of the bathroom weakly. Dean quickly moved to Sam's side, putting his little brother's arm over his shoulder, and helped the sick boy to the couch. Once Sam was situated again, Dean knelt down in front of Sam and looked him dead on in the eye. 

"You with me?" Dean asked gently, wanting Sam to hear every word he said. 

"Yeah, what's up?" Sam croaked out, with a feeble nod. 

Dean took a deep breath, carding his fingers through Sam's hair. "You are very important to me, and I am so sorry for making you feel otherwise. I should have been here taking care of you, instead of making you suffer alone. Forgive me?" he asked, not really caring that he had made this a chick-flick moment. 

Sam nodded tiredly. "You're not mad at me?" He whispered, wincing at the raw quality of his voice. 

"Never was." Dean said, smiling slightly. "Rest, we can talk more when you feel better." he added firmly. 

Sam nodded, closing his eyes and leaning into Dean's touch. He reached down in his sleep, and grabbed Dean's hand lightly, pulling it up to his side. 

Dean smiled, resting his head beside Sam's on the couch. Before long, Dean had dozed off too, resting close to Sam on the floor.

Bobby walked in a few minutes later, to see the boys sound asleep cuddled close to each other. He smiled as he shook his head, walking back into the kitchen. "Stubborn idjits." he mumbled to himself. 

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Dean helped Sam get better over the next couple days, relieved that Sam stopped having seizures. Bobby was just happy that they were back to caring about each other again, so he didn't have to knock their heads together. ;)