As requested, a reader's POV story for ya'll. :) reader 17, Sam 18, Dean 22.

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You woke up early, excited about your soon-to-be date with the ever elusive Sam Winchester. Seeing as how he was always off saving the world, you rarely got to see him. You had been planning this date for about two months, but something always came up. Usually in the form of a vampire, ghost, werewolf, wendigo, or such.

You look at your phone in excitement, surprised to see a series of texts from none of other than Sam, himself. After reading through the texts quickly, you see that he is just as excited as you are. You can't help the smile on your face, it had been there since you had met Sam, almost a year ago.

You jump out of bed, knowing you had plenty of time, but you were just too excited. You took a long shower, wanting to smell really good for your date. Everyone knows the better you smell on a date, the more loosy-goosy you'll both feel. Not that you wanted anything like that, you and Sam had decided to abstain (not do) until you both decided it was right time.

You searched your closet for what felt like ages, desperate to find the perfect outfit. You knew you had one, but you couldn't figure out what would be best. After modeling multiple outfits, you settle on one that accents all the right spots on your body.

After getting ready, you decide to make some lunch, which was just a sandwich. You were too excited to really eat much of anything else. You jumped up, hearing your phone beep softly from your bedroom.

Hey Y/N, I am really excited for tonight. When are you free? Sam sent to you.

Hey Sam, anytime is fine. :) You sent back, wondering what he had planned for you.

You waited a while, wondering what he was thinking. You couldn't help but want to call him, but you had a feeling that waiting was a better option right now.

Is an hour okay? He sent back, after about 20 minutes.

Of course, see you then. You send back, jumping to your feet, to finish getting ready to go. You rush about, cleaning from lunch, and pick up your place carefully. You wanted your place spotless, just in case, Sam wanted to come back to the house after the date.

An hour went by quickly, leaving you practically bouncing in excitement. You move to the door, as soon as you hear a knock.

"Hey Sam!" You say happily, after opening the door.

"Hey Y/N, you look great." Sam said, with a gentle smile. He stepped forward, kissing your cheek and giving you a quick hug. When he touched you, he was trembling slightly and really warm.

"You okay?" You ask in concern, stepping back and searching his face for answers. You could see he was pale and looked like he wasn't feeling 100%.

"Yeah, Dean and I just worked out a bit too much." Sam said quickly, trying not to react. But you could see right through that, knowing something else was going on.

"Oh, well, I will have to talk to him about not working you so hard, before our date nights." You said quickly, putting your hands on your hips.

Sam paled a bit more, shaking his head briefly. "That.... Um... no, it's okay. It's... not Dean's fault... It's our dad's... He wants us in the b...best condition..." he stammered, slightly hyperventilating at the thought of you, his amazing girlfriend/boyfriend going up against the almighty John Winchester.

"Hey, it's okay..." You say quickly, pulling Sam into a hug, even though he was a good deal taller than you. "Sh... sh... You're okay..." you add softly.

Sam clung to you tightly, trembling uncontrollably in your arms. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, confirming your suspicions, that your poor boyfriend was indeed not feeling well. You guide him over to the couch, sitting down and pulling him to rest his head on your lap.

"Let's stay here... Watch movies, eat snacks... How does that sound?" You ask sweetly, offering to stay in for his sake.

"No... I promised you a night out!" Sam objected, jerking upright, before swaying back and forth.

"Hey, easy. Easy. Lay back down, before you pass out." You say abruptly, grabbing his arms and pulling him to lay down again.

Sam groaned involuntarily, clutching his head as he lay down. "I'm so sorry, Y/N." he mumbled under his breath, shivering hard as he curled into a tight ball on the couch.

"It's fine, Sam. Do you want me to text Dean?" You offer, knowing Sam preferred his big brother when he was sick. You didn't want to have to get ahold of Dean, but if it meant helping Sam, you'd do it.

Sam shook his head, snuggling into your lap tiredly. "Nah, can we watch a movie?" he asked, In an impossibly small voice for such a tall man.

You nod, turned on Iron Man, thinking that it would be good to listen to, without needing to watch it intently. You grab a blanket, that you usually keep on the back of the couch, and covered Sam gently.

Sam burrowed into the blanket, barely awake, causing you to smile at how young he acted when sick. He closed his eyes, listening to the movie, seeming to enjoy it... Until the action scenes set in. With each crash, explosion, and bang, he cringed.

You quickly paused the movie, putting your hand lightly on his forehead. You bit back a curse at how warm he was.

"You've got a raging fever. Let me get you some meds and some Sprite." You say gently, slipping out from under his head. You walk quickly into the kitchen, opening your medicine cupboard, pulling out a thermometer and fever reducers, and grabbed a big bowl too. If his fever was as high as you suspected, that bowl would be needed before too long. You remember at the last second, to grab a bottle of Sprite from the fridge.

You move back to the couch, gesturing for Sam to sit up, so you can take his temperature. Once he complied, shakily, you put the thermometer in his mouth.

"Just give it a minute." You say simply, putting the bowl on the couch beside him.

"Y/N?" Sam mumbled, gagging as the thermometer moved wrong in his mouth.

"You're okay, just breathe slowly." You say, raising your eyebrows in concern at hearing the gag.

Sam nodded slowly, breathing in soft puffs. His eyes widened, as his breathing sped up and his hand went to his stomach, instinctively.

You grabbed the thermometer, relieved that it beeped as you grabbed it. "102.6. Quite a fever, Sam... Here, sip on some Sprite and take these." You said, handing him the bottle and a couple pills.

Sam nodded slowly, swallowing the pills dryly, and sipping on the Sprite. He groaned softly, wrapping his arms around his stomach tightly.

"Sam?" You ask uncertainly, until you hear the gurgling going on. "Here, come on." You say, snapping into action. You grab his arm, helping him stand up, and led him slowly to the bathroom.

"Thank you, Y/N." Sam breathed, slipping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He had locked you out of the bathroom, or well closed the door, which you understood. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, before sitting against the wall, so as to stay close by.

"Let me know if you need anything," You say calmly, hearing the sound of Sam having horrible diarrhea. You could hear him groaning, whimpering, and breathing hard.

"Y/N... I need Dean." Sam whimpered, grabbing a trash can from beside him and put it in his lap.

"Okay, Sam. I'll call him." You say quickly, suddenly grateful you had your phone in hand.

Hey Dean, it's Y/N. I need your help with Sam. You sent off right away, seeing if he was close to his phone.

What's wrong? I'm in the parking lot. Dean sent back, mere seconds later.

He's has bad diarrhea, and I think he is about to puke. You send back, as you hear Sam gag in the bathroom.

"Sam, do you need the bowl?" You ask, not wanting him to puke everywhere if it could be helped.

"No... Trash can..." Sam gasped out, gagging really hard again. "Can you come in here please?" he pleaded weakly.

"Let me unlock the door, and I will." You say, walking to the front door, right as Dean started knocking. You open the door, pointing helplessly at the bathroom.

"I am going to tell you exactly what to do," Dean said seriously, not telling you that he was needed on a hunt ASAP.

You nodded, your eyes big in surprise. "He wants you, not me." You protest softly, not wanting to upset poor Sam.

"If I am on a hunt, he will understand. Now all you can do, is let the bug run its course. No solids, until he has gone 8 hours without vomiting. Once he is done with each round of vomiting and/or diarrhea, he will want a shower. Have him take a bath, until he can stand on his own, without swaying. No water, no matter how much he is vomiting or asking for it, he will only throw it back up... immediately. Don't be surprised... What is his temperature?" Dean asked suddenly, stopping his monologue.

You blink, trying to process all the instructions. "Um.... Before the diarrhea, 102.6. Why?" you ask in bewilderment.

"Breathe, Y/N. You got this, I promise. His fever is high enough that he probably won't get much warning, if any at all, before vomiting. So a towel or something, needs to be in his lap at all times." Dean said, looking at the clock urgently. "You're on your own, kiddo. Take good care of my little brother, and let me know if you have any questions." He said, before running out the front door.

"Sonuva..." You gasped, taking a second to calm yourself down. After a moment, you gave up, shut the front door, and went to knock on the bathroom door.

"Y/N?" Sam whimpered, hearing the knock on the door.

"Can I come in?" You ask gently, your heart breaking at how miserable Sam sounded.

"Please..." Sam pleaded, sounding exhausted.

You walked into the bathroom, after opening the door, seeing that Sam was now sitting on floor in front of the toilet. His cheek was on the toilet rim, with his mouth facing the inside of the bowl.

"Have you puked?" You ask, with a gentle sigh. You were starting to wonder, if Dean should have stayed.

"N...no...." Sam stammered, as liquid suddenly poured from his mouth.

You move to his side, rubbing his back gently, as more and more liquid poured from his lips.

Sam coughed, sputtered, and threw up, until he was left dry heaving and panting.

"That's it, let it out. Ready for a bath?" You ask gently, once he stopped gagging up nothing but air.

Sam nodded weakly, pushing himself to his feet and flushing the toilet. He leaned heavily against the wall, too dizzy to stand on his own.

You ran a bath, with lukewarm water, before slowly helping Sam undress. You couldn't help but blush, as you realized just what had happened. You helped him into the tub, before sitting down on the side of the tub to make sure he didn't drown, or something like that.

Sam blushed faintly pink, trying not to fall asleep from exhaustion. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, before starting to hiccup suddenly.

You stiffen in surprise, unsure of what to expect next. All you were certain of, was that you may be getting in the tub with him. You didn't want to invade his personal space, any more than was necessary, and try as you might, that invasion might be necessary.

"You okay?" You ask gently, earning a nod, as he started retching forcefully. "You don't look it..." you observed with a sigh.

"I'm okay." Sam coughed, as he stopped retching. "Can we lay down?" he asked tiredly, as his bowels evacuated into the water. "I'm sorry." He slurred weakly.

"It's okay," You assure, hitting the drain switch, so that the tub could be washed out. "Just finish going, then I can get you resting on the couch." You add softly, kissing his forehead lightly. It didn't feel like his fever had gone up, but it did feel a little lower.

Sam shivered weakly, shaking his head tiredly. "I'm done." He panted breathlessly.

You nod, turning the shower on lukewarm, and hosing him down and the tub. You turn off the water, grab some towels, and help him up gently. You help him dry off, before handing him his clothes, and looking away so he could get decent.

Sam got dressed weakly, leaning heavily on the counter, to keep from falling. "I'm semi-decent." He rasped, struggling with his pants, but he had his shirt and boxers on.

You turn around, unable to contain your giggle, as you blush and wordlessly help him with his pants. You guide him out to the couch, helping him lay down, and covered him with a blanket. You made sure to put a towel under his head, and over his chest.

"Sleep, I'll be right here." You say softly, as you move to sit on the floor.

"Y/N, come up here with me, please?" Sam pleaded softly, moving so that you could sit beside him.

You nod, sitting down, and assuming the position you were in before he got the runs and such.

He rested his head on your lap, falling asleep almost immediately.

You weren't far behind him, as you dozed off yourself.

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Dean returned a few hours later, relieved to see that Sam and you were sound asleep, and there was no vomit anywhere. He kept watch for the rest of the night, helping Sam when he got up... Which only happened twice.

I hope you enjoyed this little fic that hit me randomly today. :) As always: vote, comment, and request away. Love you all!