Requested by my amazing bff Luci_Lucifer. He asked for human Lucifer needed Sam's help when he gets sick with the cold or flu. Set before Sam takes Lucifer to hell, with a bit of an AU theme. Samifer if you squint....

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Sam sat on the edge of his bed, shaking his head. He couldn't shake the feeling, that something was really wrong... But he wasn't sure what it was yet. 

"Sammy, what's wrong?" Dean asked, quickly moving to Sam's side in concern. He felt his not-so-little brother's forehead, relieved there was no sign of a fever. 

"I'm fine, Dean... But I think Lucifer..." Sam said distractedly. He looked around, trying to figure out why he had dreamt about the fallen angel and in a different method than normal. 

***Start of Dream***

Sam was sitting in the local library, reading a book about Hell and demons. He was looking for anything that would give him an inclination of what to expect. 

"Sam?" a weaker voice asked, as a haggard looking Lucifer walked up to him. 

"Lucifer?! What are you doing here?" Sam hissed, looking around frantically for a weapon to use if things got hairy. 

"I am not here to hurt you... I need your help..." Lucifer panted, coughing harshly into the crook of his elbow. 

"Your vessel appears to be weakening faster than I originally thought." Sam said, a slightly haughty smirk on his face. 

"Its not that at all. I promise, I am not here to try to convince you to help me by being my vessel. I am here, because I am sick... Like coughing, sneezing, and nausea... I am not exactly sure how to handle it, to be completely honest." Lucifer admitted, with a sniffle. 

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, not in the mood to help the fallen angel, especially after everything that was in store for him. "So what do you want?" he asked bluntly. 

"I need your help, Sam. Please, I want do or try anything." Lucifer actually pleaded, looking quite spooked for an all-powerful fallen angel. 

"How am I supposed to do that? Dean'll kill me." Sam said, looking a bit scared himself. 

"I propose a truce..." Lucifer offered, coughing harshly, before sneezing twice back to back. "Excuse me... Sorry... Let me come to you, or vice versa. I won't harm you, if you don't harm me." he explained, wheezing softly. 

"I'll try, but I am not making any promises." Sam said heavily, knowing this wouldn't be an sell either way. 

 ***End of Dream***

 "Stop worrying about Lucifer, Sam. We have a way to get rid of him." Dean said firmly, relieved that Sam wasn't sick. 

"Not what I am trying to say, Dean! I am serious, Lucifer is sick... And we can help him. He has asked for a truce, so we can help him." Sam explained in a rush. "He came to me in a dream again, asking for help... And damnit, Dean, I am going to utilize it to learn more about him and his weaknesses." he said firmly. 

"What?! Are you insane?! He is lying!" Dean snapped, his face paling at the thought. 

"No he isn't. He has never once lied to me." Sam argued, starting to get really annoyed with Dean's behavior. 

"I am not helping him.... Not now... Not ever!" Dean snapped angrily, livid with Sam for even considering something so stupid and dangerous. 

"I am going to go help him... And you are just going to continue on the hunt." Sam said firmly, grabbing the meds and other supplies they had that were only used when one of them got sick. "Do we have any pepto, theraflu, and robitussin?" he asked, not even giving Dean a chance to argue.

"No, we are out." Dean said angrily, grabbing his keys and leaving their motel room, slamming the door for emphasis. 

Sam sighed softly, packing up what he had and grabbed his wallet. He walked to a nearby mini mart, quickly buying what was needed to help treat whatever was rampaging the fallen angel. 

Once everything was paid for, and he was outside again, he looked around. "Alright, Lucifer, where do I go?" he asked in exasperation. He was starting to wonder if this was a bad idea, after all. 

Suddenly the parking lot was gone, and he was inside a big house. "What the?!" he demanded angrily. He looked around in confusion, seeing an amused, very ill Lucifer on the couch in the far corner of the room. 

"Thanks for coming..." Lucifer said, breaking off with a painful bout of coughing. "Sam..." he gasped out weakly. 

"Geez, you're really sick. Have you eaten or drank anything?" Sam asked uncertainly, looking around them a bit for ways to help the sick fallen angel. 

Lucifer nodded slowly, gesturing to an empty bowl and mug. "I had some soup and tea about an hour ago." he said hoarsely. 

"Good, that's definitely better than nothing at all. Let's get some meds in you, and you need to sleep." Sam said, rifling through his bag. "Have you taken your temperature?" he asked distractedly. 

"No... Is that important?" Lucifer asked in confusion. He cleared his throat a few times, groaning softly under his breath. 

"The higher the fever, the worse the symptoms. The worse the symptoms, the worse you will feel." Sam explained, disappearing into the kitchen area. 

"Is that why my stomach feels so odd and gross?" Lucifer asked, wrinkling his nose as a burp escaped his lips. 

"Yeah, careful with the burping..." Sam started to say, as he heard a very unpleasant sound.

Lucifer burped again, this one wetter than the last one. Then before he could react, liquid came up and into his lap. 

"Crap! You okay?" Sam called from the kitchen, peeking into the room slightly. 

"No..." Lucifer choked out, as more liquid joined the first amount in his lap. "How do I stop?" he gasped out, retching harshly before bringing up other stuff he had no idea what it was. Nor did he want to know. 

Sam ran into the room with a big bowl, putting it in Lucifer's lap. He wrapped the blanket in on itself, and carried it away from them. "Try to get it in the bowl." he encouraged gently. 

"Nick says it's called vomit...?" Lucifer gasped out, gagging up more into the bowl. 

"Nick? Oh is that the guy's name, that you are riding?" Sam asked curiously. He didn't fully understand, this whole vessel thing. 

Lucifer nodded weakly. "He is still here, I am just the head honcho right now." he explained, between gags. "He seems to think (gag) that this won't (gag) stop anytime soon." he choked out, bringing up more and more liquid. 

"Stop talking, trust me... Choking on your vomit, will only lead to more vomit and discomfort." Sam said, shaking his head. 

Lucifer nodded his understanding, bringing up more and more liquid until the gags stopped producing anything. He rested his head back against the back of the couch, panting softly from the exertion. 

"You good for now?" Sam asked, wanting to rinse out the bowl quickly, if for no other reason to reduce the smell. 

"Yeah, my stomach doesn't even hurt anymore." Lucifer said hoarsely, looking a bit confused. 

"Oh. Well, that's great! Maybe that's the last of the vomiting for you... Come to think of it, you do look a bit better than you did, when I got here." Sam said, looking at Lucifer closely. He reached out, without a single thought, and touched the fallen angel's forehead. 

"Sam... What are you doing?" Lucifer asked curiously, watching the younger man's movements warily. 

Sam jerked his hand back quickly, looking at the ground. "I was feeling for a fever... But your cooler temperature is already kicking in." he mumbled, taking the bowl and disappearing into the kitchen again. 

"I didn't mind it." Lucifer said loudly and quickly, coughing softly after raising his voice. 

"Oh... Well, I have some meds for you to take. Just take them as instructed on the box, and you'll be all better in no time." Sam said, putting the bowl back down beside Lucifer. 

"Very well... Dean is calling for you, so I will send you home now... Oh and Sam, this was all a dream." Lucifer added briefly, snapping his fingers and sending Sam back to his motel room. 

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"SAM!" Dean yelled, shaking Sam's shoulder. "Wake up! Come on, man!" he yelled, shaking harder. 

Sam jerked awake, looking around frantically. "Dean?! What happened?" he asked in shock, trying to piece together what was real and what was dream. 

"You were moaning, and yelling Lucifer... Please tell me, it wasn't some weird sex dream." Dean asked, swallowing hard at the thought.

"NO! I was taking care of him, cuz he was sick and puking everywhere." Sam said quickly, shaking his head quickly. "I swear it was real..." he mumbled to himself. 

"Well, it wasn't. Ready to hunt our resident killer poltergeist?" Dean asked, trying to distract his little brother. 

"Yeah, let's get to it!" Sam said quickly, debating what that dream had meant and why. 

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They left the motel room, to do what they do best. Saving People, Hunting Things, The Family Business!

I hope you enjoy this little fic! As always: vote, comment, and request away! Love you all!! <3