Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, but I would really, really love a hug from Jared Padalecki.

What Goes Around Comes Around

Chapter 3

"Daddy!" Sam squealed, dropping the bat and running forward toward the door as John Winchester stepped into the small, dingy apartment. "Dean's sick! He won't wake up!"

John's heart stuttered in his chest. One of his biggest fears was that something would happen to one or both of his boys while he was out hunting the monsters. He knelt beside his oldest boy on the worn carpet. "Dean, wake up, son," he called as he stroked Dean's smooth cheek. Dean was pale with dark circles under his eyes. John's heart thudded anxiously inside of his chest.

"Daaad," Dean slurred faintly without opening his eyes.

"Hey, kiddo," John soothed, "let's get you up. Are you feeling sick, son?"

"He's been throwing up, Daddy," Sam answered for his big brother. "He got sick from me. I throwed up first." The little boy's eyes brimmed with tears. "He throwed up a lot!"

"All right," John replied as he lifted his semi-conscious nine-year-old into his arms. "Get your shoes on, Sammy. We're taking Dean to the hospital."

Sam hurried to comply as John grabbed the blanket from the couch and wrapped it around Dean. "Hurry, Sam."

"I'm ready," the little boy answered, his eyes still shimmering with tears. His shoes were on his feet with the laces straggling like spaghetti noodles. "Is Dean gonna die, Daddy?" he asked as they stepped outside into the chill evening air and made their way to the car.

"No, tiger," John assured him. "Now get in the backseat and let me put Dean's head in your lap. You can keep an eye on him and tell me how he's doing." John forced a calmness into his voice that he didn't feel.

Sam scrambled into the Impala and carefully accepted his brother, situating Dean's head in his lap gently. "It's gonna be okay, Dean," he soothed as he stroked his brother's dirty blonde hair. "The doctor's gonna make you all better." A worried frown curved the little boy's lips downward. He should have taken better care of his sick brother.

John swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. His boys were so close it took his breath away at times. He ignored the speed limit all the way to the emergency room and sighed with relief once he parked and lifted a once again nearly conscious Dean into his arms. Sam was reluctant to give his brother up.

"Dad? Wha-hap'd?" Dean slurred.

"You've been sick and you passed out, kiddo," John explained as he walked across the parking lot with his son in his arms. "We're going to get you taken care of and you'll be feeling better shortly."

Sam scrambled to keep up with his father's long-legged stride and tangled his hand in the hem of Dean's shirt as he tried to give his big brother reassurance and comfort.

John entered the emergency room and zeroed in on the woman behind the front desk. "I need some help here!" he bellowed.

She took one look at the unconscious child in John's arms and surged to her feet. "I'll get someone with a gurney."

Sam kept his fingers twisted in Dean's shirt. "Daddy, can we go in the back with Dean?" he asked.

"The doctors will need to see to him, Sam. I'm not sure they will let us in the back until they have checked him over," John told his youngest son gently.

Sam sighed. "But what if Dean needs me? What if he wakes up and looks for me?"

"Then the doctors will come and get us as soon as they can," John told him. Relief flowed through the eldest Winchester when the double doors to the emergency room opened and a gurney was pushed through them.

The doctor was there questioning Dean's symptoms and then John found himself watching the doors as they closed behind the doctor and nurses caring for his oldest boy.

Sammy sniffled at his father's side. He was trying very hard not to cry, but he was worried about his big brother. He needed to be with Dean so he could take care of him.

John swung his youngest up into his arms and settled him on his hip. "The doctors know what to do for Dean, kiddo. He's going to be fine. He just needs some medicine."

Sam wiped at his eyes as he began to hiccup. "I-I- need to be with Dean," he managed.

"We'll see him soon," John soothed. "Let's go find somewhere to sit while we wait."

Sam found himself plopped into a chair at his father's side. He curled into a miserable ball and trained his eyes on the double doors where they had taken Dean.

John drank two cups up coffee while waiting for news on his eldest son. He paced the floor and then sank back into the uncomfortable chair beside Sam. The little boy still sniffled desolately although his eyes drifted closed every now and then. John pressed a hand to Sam's forehead. It was cool although Sam was still very pale from his bout with the stomach virus.

Leaning his head back against the wall, John blamed himself for what had happened to Dean. He knew he needed to find the thing that had killed Mary, but yet he felt he was letting their boys down at the same time. It was like he was being pulled in two different directions. His head pounded as the conflict raged within him. John closed his eyes, willing his headache away.

Sam's eyes attempted to close once again and he rubbed them sleepily. He had to stay awake in case Dean needed him. He glanced up at his father and noticed that John's eyes were closed. Sam knew he wasn't asleep yet; his breathing was too fast. He just needed to wait a little longer.

Sam was nearly asleep himself before John's breathing evened out. The little boy slipped quietly out of his chair and followed another family through the double doors where the doctor and nurses had taken his brother. He had to find Dean.

It was quite noisy now that he was in the heart of the emergency room. Doctors and nurses hurried past him never noticing the little boy tucked into the corner of the hallway. Sam moved quietly down the hall, his heart pounding frantically inside of his chest. There were a lot of people here. He didn't know where to look for Dean.

As he rounded a corner, two rows of curtained cubicles were laid out before him. Sam crept forward and peered hesitantly into the first cubicle. An old lady with blueish hair was being examined by a doctor. Sam wrinkled his nose and moved on before he was noticed. He made it to the fourth curtain before he found his brother.

Sam gasped and then clapped his hands over his mouth before either of the nurses working over his brother heard him. Dean looked so small in the hospital bed. There was a tube hooked in Dean's arm and a blanket tucked tightly around his body.

"I'll go get his family," one nurse announced as the other nodded.

Sam ducked away as the women exited the cubicle. Then he scurried inside and stood next to his brother's bed. "Dean?" he whispered loudly.

There was no response. His older brother kept his eyes closed and breathed deeply.

Sam frowned. "Dean?" he called again, a little louder this time.

"S'mmy," Dean muttered, his eyes still closed.

A grin curved the younger brother's face and with some difficulty he scaled the railing on the side of the bed and curled up next to his big brother, careful not to dislodge the wires and tubes. "I'll take care of you now, Dean," he assured his brother. He rubbed Dean's forehead carefully. "I'm right here."

Sam snuggled into his brother's side and rested his head against Dean's shoulder. Being this close, he would certainly know if his brother woke up and needed anything.

"Sam!" John's voice rang out down the hallway.

The youngest Winchester winced and tangled his fingers in his big brother's sheet.

John yanked the curtain back that surrounded Dean's bed and heaved a sigh of relief when he spotted his youngest. "Sam," he breathed out, "don't you ever sneak away from me again."

"But I had to find Dean," Sam argued quietly. Dean would have been upset to wake up without knowing where Sam was.

John shook his head and reached for his youngest.

Sam wrapped himself around his big brother, forcing John to let go for fear of dislodging any of the tubes and wires from Dean's body.

"Sam," John began with a heavy sigh, "Dean is going to be fine. He threw up too many of the good things his body needs and that's why he passed out. The doctors are giving him the fluids he needs to feel better."

Sam rested his head back against Dean's shoulder. "But Daddy, Dean would be scared. I don't think he'll 'member that you're home. He'll think something bad happened to me if he doesn't see me when he wakes up."

John sighed once again, knowing his youngest spoke the truth. Dean would wake up in a panicked state if he didn't know the whereabouts of his little brother.

"S'mmy?" Dean slurred quietly as he turned his head in Sam's direction.

"I'm right here, Dean," Sam murmured quietly, using one of his small, pudgy hands to stroke his big brother's cheek. "Daddy's here, too. The doctors are gonna make you feel better."

Dean's eyes fluttered open and then closed again from the harshness of the emergency room's bright lights. "What happ'd?" he managed to get out around a tongue as dry as cotton.

The nurse handed John a cup of ice chips and he stepped closer to his son's bed. "You've had a stomach virus, Dean, and got dehydrated."

"S'rry," Dean choked out. "S'rry, Dad."

"You couldn't help it, kiddo," John soothed. "The doctors have given you something for nausea and some fluids to replace what you've lost."

Dean blinked blearily up at his dad while drawing Sam closer to him. "You 'kay, S'mmy?" he asked tiredly, his first concern always his little brother.

"Yeah, Dean. I'm okay," the youngest Winchester answered as he gently placed an arm around his brother and gave him a gentle hug.

John bit back a smile at the gesture from the youngest brother to the oldest. "You can have a few ice chips and we'll see how you do," he told Dean.

Dean accepted the few small pieces of ice gratefully. They soothed the dry, burning feeling in his throat. His stomach was empty, but he didn't feel hungry at all. A trembling, weak feeling had taken over his body.

"Just rest, Dean," John told him. "I'm sorry I wasn't home when you and Sam needed me." Guilt leaked through into the words even as John told himself he was doing the best he could.

Dean attempted to put his father's mind at ease. "It's 'kay, Dad." His voice even sounded a bit stronger this time. "You didn't know we were gonna get sick."

John rested a hand on Dean's forehead and felt love for his boys surge through him. "You're going to be okay, kiddo. You and Sammy just get some rest. I'll be right here."

"'Kay, Dad," Dean answered, sighing as Sam curled up tighter against his side. Both boys were soon deeply asleep.

"You don't deserve them, Winchester," John mumbled under his breath. "I'm sorry, Mary," he continued. "I'll try to do better." A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he slumped in a chair at Dean's bedside. He knew it would never be easy to be both a hunter and a father, but he had to try – for the sake of his boys and for Mary.

The End