This was requested by one of my favorite requesters, and they requested a story with two prompts in one. Weechester/ Teenchester: Dean 14, Sam 10. Over Christmas break, Dean is helping Sam study his harder times tables, feeling really nauseous and coming down with the stomach flu that has been going around Sam's school recently. I hope you all enjoy!

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John walked into the kitchen, noticing Sam was focusing really hard on a math book. He saw Dean sitting in the living room, zoning out at a boring documentary from the looks of it. He walked over to Dean, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. 

"Any signs yet?" He asked gruffly, sneaking a peek at Sam who was oblivious.

"No, he has been fine and eating like a fiend." Dean said somberly. He looked over at his little brother, relieved that the stomach flu hadn't hit him yet. They were both well aware that a particularly brutal strain of stomach flu had passed through Sam's class twice in the month that led up to Christmas break. They kept expecting Sam to get really sick, but he kept surprising them. 

"Dean?" Sam asked softly, startling his older brother out of his revelry. 

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean asked, blinking a few times as a pain shot behind his eyes. 

"Can you quiz me on my times tables? I had trouble on my last test, and I don't want to lose anymore points on my grade." Sam said softly, looking a bit lost. 

"Sure, kiddo. Let me get some water, and I'll come help you." Dean said, turning off the tv and getting up. He grabbed the back of the couch, breathing quickly through the overwhelming feeling of dizziness that washed over him. 

"Dean?" Sam asked in concern, moving to get up. 

"I'm okay, just stood up too fast after sitting so long." Dean said quickly, shaking the lingering sensation off and walking into the kitchen. He was inwardly relieved when Sam seemed to accept that answer and returned his attention to his math, since he didn't want to be touched. He could feel a minor fever building beneath his skin, and didn't want Sam or his Dad knowing he was starting to feel pretty crappy. 

He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, snagging some Tylenol slyly and swallowed them swiftly, before sitting down at the table. "Alright, lets get you all set for the next test." he said firmly, grimacing as the water and Tylenol hit his stomach and sent it churning. 

Sam nodded, handing Dean his flashcards, showing math problems like 246x34=. He needed to practice solving these problems, without a calculator and in his head. He handed Dean the calculator too, before looking up and seeing that Dean's face was pale and he was starting to sweat. 

"I need to solve those problems, without a calculator and in my head." He explained, watching Dean pull his sweatshirt tighter around him. "Are you okay, Dean?" he asked gently, wondering what was going on. 

Dean looked up in surprise, chuckling softly. "No problem." he said, taking the supplies. "Yes, Sam, I'm just cold." He said, giving Sam a look to back off. 

"Did you just say you were cold?" John asked, walking in from a shower.  

Dean swallowed hard briefly. "Yes, sir. I feel like I can't warm up today." he admitted, looking at the table hard, to avoid looking up at John. 

"It's 78 degrees in here... I agree with Sam, are you sure you're feeling okay?" John asked suspiciously, knowing that 78 degrees was warm enough to make just about anyone who wasn't sick, feel too warm. 

"I'm fine, Dad." Dean said firmly, praying that they both shut up about how he felt. It was getting harder and harder to hide how awful he was starting to feel. 

"Alright, well, let's go get some food." John said, grabbing his keys and wallet. He looked at the boys, waiting to see if either would back out. 

Sam jumped up, heading for the front door. "Is the car unlocked?" he asked, skidding to a stop. 

"Yes, it is. Go ahead and get in." John said, smiling warmly at his youngest. He turned his attention to Dean, who was slowly pulling himself to his feet. 

He watched his oldest, sluggishly walk out to the car hoping that he was wrong about him getting sick. 

Dean climbed into the impala, praying that wherever they were headed for dinner would have something like soup. He'd avoid eating altogether, if he could help it, but he knew that his dad and little brother were more than observant. 

He sat down heavily, closed his door, and leaned his head against the window, causing him to shiver involuntarily. 

John got in the car, revved the engine, turned his music up loud, and drove to a nearby diner. "Alright, everybody out." he ordered, chuckling as Sam stumbled out of the car excitedly. But watching Dean get out of the car, looking pale and exhausted. 

Sam and John walked into the diner, were seated, and perusing the menu, by the time Dean made it to their table and sat down. 

"I ordered you a coffee, a bacon cheeseburger, and onion rings." John said, looking at his oldest. 

Dean forced himself not to flinch. "Thanks, Dad, sounds great." he lied, putting his hand tightly against his stomach. He breathed softly through his mouth, since the smells of all the different foods sent his stomach churning uncomfortably. 

Sam and John chatted away about school and the next couple hunts, both noticing that Dean was silent and sipping on his water. 

"Dean, can we study some more when we get home?" Sam asked suddenly, startling the oldest.

"Sure, Sammy. We can go over your math." Dean said calmly, relieved that the water seemed to settle his stomach down again. 

Moments later, all their food and drinks were brought to the table. All three dug in, each enjoying their meal immensely. Even Dean was able to enjoy and eat all his food. 

He shook his head, chalking the nausea feeling earlier to being too worried about Sam getting sick. He resigned himself to relax a bit more, and stop stressing about everything until it was proven necessary. 

John and Sam were more than slightly relieved that Dean seemed to be back to normal. They weren't sure what happened earlier, but they were glad it was over. 

After John paid for the food, they drove back to their little house. He sent the boys into the house, saying he had a couple errands to run. 

Dean and Sam walked into the house, immediately sitting down at the table to work on Sam's studying. They studied together for about two hours, before Dean's stomach started churning aggressively. 

"Oh," Dean groaned, pressing his hand hard against his stomach. 

"Dean? What's wrong?!" Sam asked, alarmed by his older brother's groan. 

"Nothing, Sammy. My stomach is just acting up." Dean ground out, trying to play it off. 

"Does it hurt uncomfortably and feel really angry?" Sam asked, remembering what his friends at school had said that the stomach bug started. 

"Yeah, why?" Dean asked, fairly surprised that Sam had gotten how he felt almost perfectly. He hissed strongly, as he felt cramps rolling through his insides. 

"That's how the stomach bug starts, then cramps, followed by cold sweats and diarrhea, and finally vomiting." Sam explained, watching Dean's face pale more and more. "Dean? Are you okay?" he asked nervously. 

Dean nodded slowly, resting his head on the table, as he broke out sweating profusely. "Looks like I am almost to the diarrhea phase," he said heavily, groaning painfully as a particularly painful cramp rippled through his abdomen. 

"I'm going to call dad, this bug is not a good one. And we're going to need supplies." Sam said, jumping up and running off to call John, before Dean could even protest. 

Dean groaned softly, as he stood up leaning heavily against the kitchen counter as he started feeling dizzy all over again. He closed his eyes, following the edge of the counter until he hit the sink. He gagged suddenly under his breath, before lurching forward over the sink, and vomiting heavily. 

Sam came running back into the kitchen, as Dean vomiting in the sink echoed through the hall and kitchen. "Dad, he is already puking." He yelled, moving to Dean's side quickly. "You're okay, let it out." he said to Dean, rubbing his brother's back as he felt another heave right before it happened. 

Dean vomited again and again, barely giving him a chance to breathe between waves of vomiting and cramps curling through him. "Sam, I need you to get me to the bathroom... NOW!" he said, as he got a chance to breathe. 

Sam nodded, grabbing a towel which he put in Dean's hand. "If you can't hold it back long enough, throw up in the towel." He instructed, as he slowly led Dean towards the bathroom. 

Dean breathed heavily, until they were halfway down the hall. He gasped and groaned at the time, before vomiting into the towel. "Sorry," he mumbled, before vomiting again.

"Ah man, get him to the bathroom, Sam." John instructed as he walked in the front door in time to see what happened. 

Sam pulled Dean to the bathroom, not even asking as he helped Dean with his pants and boxers, before making sure he was on the toilet with the trash can on his lap. 

Dean looked at Sam in amazement, as he groaned and gasped, as his bowels evacuated loudly. "Thanks Sammy." he said weakly, before shoving his head in the trash can and vomited. 

"Dad, he is going to get dehydrated..." Sam said urgently, looking at his brother in concern. 

"I know, Sam. He needs to get this out of his system, and stop vomiting. Otherwise, it will just make him more miserable as he throws everything we give him back up." John said, walking into the bathroom in concern. 

Dean finally stopped vomiting, and having diarrhea. "I think this is something different." He said, after walking into the living room and collapsing on the couch in exhaustion. 

"How so?" Sam asked, bringing a bottle of water to his brother.

"I started throwing up before the diarrhea hit." Dean explained, wrinkling his nose as he accepted the water bottle. "Can I wait a bit, please?" he begged, more so of his dad than Sam.

Sam glared at Dean, before turning his attention to his dad. "But..." he started to protest.

"Take a couple sips now, then more later." John said firmly, watching Dean swallow hard a couple times before nodding. "It's time for bed, boys. Take the trash can and water bottle with you, Dean." he added. 

"Yes, sir." Dean and Sam said at the same time, getting up and heading to bed. 

Once they were in their room, and getting ready for bed. Sam looked at Dean who was slowly getting ready, his movements jerky and sluggish.

"You good, De?" He asked out of concern. 

Dean looked at Sam, shaking his head briefly. "I'm tired, sore, and think I have a fever." he admitted raspily. 

"Lay down and rest, Dean. I'll go get you some Tylenol." Sam said, leaving the room and headed to the kitchen. 

John looked up, as Sam entered the room. "Samuel!" he snapped, not liking that his youngest was pushing the rules again. 

"I'm only up for Tylenol for Dean, I promise." Sam said quickly, a look of panic on his face. 

John mentally face-palmed. "Okay, kiddo. Go ahead." he said apologetically. 

"Thanks, Dad." Sam said, running to the first aid kit. He pulled out the Tylenol, as running footsteps were heard in the hall and into the bathroom, followed by the sound of Dean vomiting. 

John sighed softly. "Go to bed, Sam. I'll take care of Dean." he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he took the Tylenol from Sam and grabbed the pepto. 

Sam nodded, heading to bed, and was dozing off almost immediately. 

John walked down to the bathroom, knocking on the door lightly, before opening the door. "You alive?" he asked teasingly, seeing his oldest sitting on the toilet and vomiting into the tub. 

Dean groaned, having horrible diarrhea and vomiting. "Make it stop." he pleaded hoarsely, before returning to vomiting into the tub. 

John rubbed his oldest's back, until he finally stopped over 2 hours later. "You're okay, kid. Slow breaths," he said, helping wash the tub out. 

"Can you help me take a quick shower?" Dean asked exhaustedly. 

"Of course," John said automatically, turning on the shower for his oldest. "Let me know if you need help." he added, as he left the bathroom, and sat down in the hall. 

Dean nodded, climbing into the shower and rinsed off. When he climbed out, he slipped and cried out as he was certain he'd fall. 

John heard the cry, bolting into the bathroom and grabbed Dean, barely in time to keep from getting hurt. "You okay?" he asked breathlessly. 

Dean nodded, yawning as he pulled on his pajamas. "Jus tired." he mumbled, almost falling asleep standing up and leaning against John. 

"Bedtime." John said, rousing his son long enough to take some pepto and Tylenol. He carried Dean to bed, tucked him in, and made sure the trash can was close by, before heading to bed himself. 

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Dean was up another few times throughout the night, vomiting painfully into the trash can. Sam was there to help immediately, never once asking John for help. 

Finally around 4 am, both were sound asleep, and Dean's fever broke. Sadly it came back, putting him through another 2 days of sickness, before finally getting better. 

Sam still never caught that particular strain. 

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