This was requested a while ago, and with all the stress going on in my personal life, I fell behind. Im so sorry, I hope this chapter makes up for it. Requested by @music_lover_2222.

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It had been three long days of driving all day, and stopping only for gas or at night to sleep in a motel. Dean had said that this hunt was really important, for being across the US of A. You had been tempted to ask why it was so special, but neither Winchester had been in much of a talking or explaining mood.

You curled up in the backseat, wishing deep down that they would close their freaking windows, as it was freezing in the backseat. You burrowed deeper into Sams sweatshirt, that he had let you borrow a few weeks back when a hunt had left you with destroyed clothes again.

"We have about an hour til we stop for a refuel," Dean said gruffly, glaring at the road as if it had personally offended him or his beautiful impala.

"K," you say quickly, attempting to not draw attention to the fact that you were exhausted, sore, and freezing your butt off.

Sam looked up at the rearview mirror, noticing that you were cuddled up, shivering, and slightly pale.

"You okay?" he asked gently, earning a sideways glance from Dean.

"Im fine." You say, noticing for the first time that your throat kinda hurt. You swallowed hard, struggling to get your saliva past your throat, which sent your stomach flipping slightly.

"You look pale." Sam observed, closing his window without a word.

You snuggle into his sweatshirt, barely concealing the yawn that wracked your form. "Just tired," you mumble, as your eyes start to close of their own accord.

"Rest well, Y/N." Sam said gently, tapping his hand on his leg to show Dean something was up. He had started using hand signals to communicate without your knowing, since you joined the team a few months before.

Dean frowned, looking into the rearview mirror in concern. "Call Bobby, tell him to give the hunt to someone else." he said, already planning to stop at a motel as soon as he found one.

Sam nodded, pulling out his cell phone and dialing the older hunter. "Hey, Bobby, its Sam... Yeah, we were on our way there... You need to give it to someone else... Y/N is sick... Not sure how bad yet... He/She is pretty good at hiding how he/she feels... Yeah, we will be stopping soon... We'll keep in touch he said before hanging up."

"We good?" Dean asked softly, noticing that you were starting to get restless in your sleep.

"Yeah, he said to take care of him/her." Sam said, snorting under his breath softly.

"Y/N? You're okay, theres no danger." Dean said firmly, but gently, hoping that his voice would register in your brain and help you relax.

You moan softly, starting to feel way too warm, even as goosebumps popped up all over your arms and legs. "Wha?" you mumble softly, feeling like youd been hit by a truck.

"Go back to sleep." Sam suggested quickly, noticing that your cheeks were starting to flush with fever, and any visible skin was covered in goosebumps. "Already has a high fever," he mumbled for Deans sake.

"Get some rest, Y/N, well wake you when we stop next." Dean said, as his frown deepened. It had been at least a few months since either he or Sam got sick, so having you get so sick so fast was rather worrisome.

You groan softly, sliding the sweatshirt sleeves up, before closing your eyes. Before too long, soft congested snores came from your sleeping form, telling both boys that they were in for a long couple days at least.

You sleep until the impala is pulled off the main highway and into a gas station. When the car rolls to stop, you jerk awake, looking around frantically as your breathing picks up. "Why did we stop?" you ground out, your voice sounding like you had been walking in the desert for hours with no water.

"Gotta get gas and food, and we gotta find a motel." Dean said gently, reaching back and taking your hand in a reassuring way. "You can go back to sleep, if you want." he offered, not liking how disoriented you appeared to be.

You kept blinking slowly in confusion, not really sure where you were or what was going on. But Dean's hand on yours was helping you distinguish reality from fiction, even if his touch was a bit surprising. "I need to stretch my legs." you mumble weakly, sliding slowly towards Sam's open door and pushed forward seat.

Dean nodded, getting out of the impala to fill its tank. He watched you silently, worried that you were too sick out of nowhere, for it to be normal illness and not something supernatural.

You climb out of the car, clinging to the vehicle as the movement of standing up made you feel really dizzy. You look around frantically for one of the brothers, before everything went black and you crumbled to the ground with a soft thud.

Sam was walking out of the mini mart, carrying supplies of all kinds, when he saw you drop out of sight. "Dean! Y/N collapsed!" he yelled, rushing to the impala, which was a good twenty feet away.

Dean ran around the car, seeing you on the ground choking on your own spit, even as you were unconscious. He rolled you on your side, unsure if you were going to have a seizure or what was going on.

No sooner did you get rolled over on your side, did your eyes fly open as you jumped to your hands and knees, vomiting on the ground in front of you.

"Whoa, easy, Y/N, try to breathe through it." Dean said quickly, looking up at Sam helplessly.

"Hold his/her hair away from his/ her face, so the vomit doesnt get in his/ her hair." Sam instructed, as he put all his purchases in the car, and grabbed a bottle of pepto from one bag. "Here, try swallowing some of this, it might help." he told you, as you gagged unproductively.

You look up at him, shaking your head weakly. "Can I just sleep, please?" you pleaded weakly, leaning into Dean, who was still holding your hair uncertainly.

Sam shook his head briefly. "Not yet, I really think you should take some of this." he insisted gently, worried that you were still beyond pale.

"Pepto makes me puke, not helps." You say uncomfortably, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. Just as your eyes start to drift shut, you jerk forward with a violent gag that coated the that short amount of space between you and Sam in watery yuck.

"Oh okay, what usually helps?" Sam asked, jumping back in surprise, and glared at Dean who was chuckling softly under his breath.

"You okay there, Sammy?" Dean teased playfully, as he rubbed your back gently, making sure to keep your hair out of the vomit's path.

"Nothing, except pedialyte." You mumble weakly, trying not to gag again.

"Shut up, Dean. Okay, Y/N, I will go get you some pedialyte, and pay for the gas." Sam said, tossing the pepto into the car and heading back into the mini mart.

Dean chuckled softly, shaking his head, as you went limp against him. "Y/N? You with me?" he asked gently, trying not to panic.

"I'm here." You slur, as you doze off against him.

Dean chuckled softly, slipping his arms under your knees and around your back, to scoop you up and put you back inside the impala. He grabbed a blanket from the bags that Sam had bought, wrapping it around you gently. He looked up, as Sam jogged over, with another couple bags.

"What'd you do, buy the whole store?" he asked his younger brother, a look of surprise crossing his face.

"Sure, whatever. Is he/she asleep?" Sam asked, shooting Dean an annoyed look.

"Yeah, puking wiped him/ her out." Dean said with a gentle chuckle.

The nearest motel is about 3 miles east of here along that main road. Sam said, pointing to the road closest to them. The cashier even offered to draw me a map, but I told him we should be able to find it just fine. he added quickly, as he collected all his purchases and put them in the trunk of the car, being extra careful to close it gently and not wake you.

He slid into his seat, as Dean did the same, both wanting to get you to the motel before you felt like puking again.

Dean drove to the motel without any difficulties, or you waking up. He carefully carried you into the room, after Sam paid for it, and laid you down on one of the beds.

You curled into a tight ball, your arms wrapping protectively around your aching stomach. You open your eyes, showing that you were fighting tears.

"Y/N? You okay?" Dean asked softly, taking the offered trash can from Sam, who was also opening a bottle of pedialyte.

"I really dont feel good." You admit, before bursting into tears. You sob softly, curling into yourself as much as humanly possible.

Sam and Dean moved to either side of you, making a Y/N sandwich. They waited quietly for you to stop bawling, keeping the trash can and pedialyte close as you start hiccuping.

"I'm sorry." you whisper, reaching for the trash can, as your hiccuping brought up more watery yuck.

"You're sick, its okay to be sad about it. Even if being sad, makes you puke again." Sam said kindly, helping pull your hair back into a messy bun above your head.

Once you stopped getting sick, Dean took care of the trash can, making sure to bring it back in no time. On his way back to the bed, he grabbed your favorite pjs, blanket, and the tv remote.

Sam quickly grabbed the blanket, holding it out to hide you and looked away, so you could change without getting up or needing any help. "You decent?" he asked, after a couple minutes.

You snuggled back down into the bed, before trying to answer. "Yeah, thanks." you say hoarsely.

Sam smiled at you kindly, wrapping your special blanket around you, before offering you the pedialyte.

You take a couple sips, before burrowing into your blanket sleepily.

Dean climbed into bed beside you and Sam, turned on the tv to Family Feud.

Before long the show had you and the boys sound asleep.

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You woke up the next morning, feeling slightly queasy but much better. Of course food wasnt your friend at all, but Sam and Dean helped you each time you got sick and made sure you had plenty of pedialyte.

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