This was requested by an awesome fellow writer, please check out their writing. Requested by Shesscertlygorgous16. Enjoy! As long as you know of the bunker, and its size, you're good to go. No real spoilers!

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You walked into the kitchen of the bunker, looking around in confusion. Usually there was the smell of coffee or food wafting from the massive kitchen, especially since it was almost noon on a Sunday. Dean usually tried to make a big meal on Sundays, something of a tradition to lift everyone's spirits and encourage bonding as a hunting family.

You gather up all the ingredients needed to make a big salad for Sam, and burgers for you and Dean.

"Don't even think about it." a hoarse voice warned, as you reached for the power nob to the stovetop.

"What?! I wasn't doing anything." You squeak, jumping away from the stove as if it had tried to bite you.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Y/N? Don't touch the appliances in the kitchen. I'm still trying to clean up the scorch marks from your last attempt to cook that caught the microwave and countertop on fire." Dean's hoarse voice grumbled.

You get a good look at him, once your chest has stopped pounding from his startling you. You could see he was pale, had barely any voice, appeared to be struggling to breathe freely, and looked just downright miserable.

"You okay, Dean?" you ask in concern, not liking how he was leaning so heavily on the door jam.

"Nah, I feel like crap. Its why I am not cooking, and neither is Sam." Dean pointed out, allowing his body to slide down the wall until he was seating on the steps leading in and out of the kitchen.

"What's wrong with Sam?" You ask apprehensively, before moving to the fridge, opening it, and pulling out a couple of bottles of water. You offer one to him, that he takes begrudgingly.

"He's been up all night: coughing up a lung and gagging on each cough." Dean said, opening the bottle with some difficulty and took a small sip.

"Why didn't he wake me? I am the more medic like here, than either of you are qualified for." You grumble in frustration. They had a habit of forgetting that you had trained to be a paramedic, and had passed all the tests with flying colors.

"We figured you should sleep, since there was nothing that would help." Dean said with a shrug, before coughing into the crook of his elbow.

"Back to bed, sicko. I am going to nurse you both back to health... again." You say with an exaggerated sigh. "I'll go order soup, so you don't have to worry about me cooking." you add, earning a weak smile from the sick hunter before you.

Dean got up slowly, taking his time so as not to pass out on your watch. He finally made it down the hall a bit, before stopping to catch his breath and cough harshly into the crook of his elbow. "Can I just sleep in the recliner?" he pleaded, looking too pale for comfort.

You nod briefly, taking the arm he hadn't coughed on, and led him to the recliner, which he collapsed into weakly.

"Try to sleep, Dean. I'm going to bring Sam in here too." You say softly, wrapping a light blanket around the wheezing hunter.

"I'm right here." Sam croaked from the doorway, looking like he had a high fever.

"Come lay down in the other recliner, Sam. You need to rest, and drop that comforter, it's not good for your fever." You say firmly, watching him scowl as he dropped his comforter.

"But I'm cold." Sam whined softly, sniffling as tears ran down his fevered cheeks.

"Aww... Sam, its okay. I have a special blanket right here for you." You say holding up a lightweight, fuzzy blanket that was your favorite of all.

Sam's eyes widened, as he looked at you with glassed over eyes. "That's your special blanket." he protested, staggering as he suddenly seemed to get dizzy. He collided with the wall, hitting his shoulder and the left side of his face quite hard, before his knees buckled and he collapsed unconscious.

"SAM!!" You yelled, running to his side, before turning to look at Dean who was struggling to try to get out of the recliner. "Stay put! I don't need you passing out too." you snap firmly.

Dean sat back in the recliner, looking defeated and worried at the same time.

You look down at Sam, looking for signs of severe injury or anything that would require an actual paramedic... a more qualified paramedic. Upon further inspection, he had a bump on his forehead, a bleeding nose, a cut on his cheek and his shoulder, but that was all you could see. You shook his shoulder lightly, not wanting to hurt him or make him sicker.

"Sam...? Come on, wake up for me!" you say firmly, but gently, relieved as Sam groaned loudly. "That's right, come on. Open your eyes for me." you say gently, making sure he isn't in a painful position.

"Si..." Sam slurred, blinking a few times, before getting agitated.

You helped him roll onto his side, as liquid poured from his mouth with no control. You patted him on the back lightly, using your other hand to make sure his airways remained clear. Because of your training, you weren't even slightly grossed out, but a normal person would have been to touch the expelled liquid.

Once the liquid stopped coming up, you kissed his forehead lightly. "You're okay, let's get you cleaned up." you offer softly, helping him sit up, before helping him pull off his now yucky shirt. "Can you get to the recliner, while I go get you a shirt?" you ask gently.

Sam nodded silently, using the wall as a crutch to stand up and wobble over to the recliner. He collapsed into the seat, before hissing as his bare back hit the cold leather of the chair. "I's cold.." he slurred, looking exhausted.

You run down the hall, stopping at the laundry room, knowing you had just washed a bunch of everyone's laundry. You grab a couple of Sam's shirts and a new one for Dean, before walking to your room quickly. You grabbed some liquid adult Tylenol, and some band-aids and bacitracin.

You walk into the living room to find Sam sound asleep and snoring softly, while Dean was nowhere to be seen.

"Dean?!" You hissed in exasperation. You could hear clinking in the kitchen, so you headed down the hall to find the missing person in question. "What the heck do you think you're doing?!" you snap.

Dean whipped around, smiling sheepishly at you. "I thought I'd help you out and make some tea and soup." he said with a shrug. He pointed to the pre-made bowls of soup and two kettles of tea. He grabbed a thermos, before walking past you and towards the living room.

"That better be tea, not coffee." You said firmly, watching Dean walk away.

"I swear on Sammy as my brother, I have tea. I don't want to drink coffee right now." Dean said solemnly, as he curled up on his recliner and sipped on his tea.

"Okay, here, take some Tylenol. I need to make sure your fever doesn't sky rocket, like Sam's did." You say firmly, handing him a little measuring cup full of it, once you had measured the correct dosage.

Dean groaned softly, before swallowing the liquid quickly. "That's nasty." he mumbled, before yawning and coughing into the crook of his elbow. "Can I take a nap, Y/N? I'm really tired." he mumbled softly, blinking repeatedly in an effort to keep his eyes open.

"Go to sleep, Dean." You say sweetly, smiling as you watched him fall asleep without another word.

You walked over to Sam, shaking his shoulder lightly to wake him. "Sam, I need you to take some Tylenol, then you can go back to sleep." you said, offering him a new measuring cup after filling it.

Sam blurrily took the cuppy, swallowed the meds, and looked at you sleepily. "Thanks for helping me earlier." he said hoarsely, before his eyes slid closed.

"Anytime you need it, Sam, I am here." You said, sounding a bit ominous even in your own years.

You shrugged it off, before going in search of a mop and mop bucket. You walked back into the living room and started mopping the mess up from Sam getting sick. Once that was cleaned up and good as new, you covered Sam with your special blanket, and grabbed the book you were reading.

You curled up on the couch to keep watch over the boys, and read your book. Not realizing that you were feeling quite tired yourself, and dozed off.

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When you woke up a few hours later, Sam and Dean were sipping on tea and soup, and chuckling at a tv show that was playing very quietly. You were relieved to find that neither had a fever anymore, and happily nursed them back to health, just like you promised. 

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