#but the fic did still balloon another third in size so like could do better

[obstinatecondolement]

The thing about learning A new skill is that I have to like... learn five more skills for it to even be useful half the time.

[yukayjei]

Linked Universe FanFic: No Courage Without Fear

Hi! I’ve been a fan of @jojo56830’s @linkeduniverse for a while, and I’ve been dying to contribute my own fan work to this incredible series! I’ve worked on this fic since July (2019), and it’s finally finished (May 2020), so I really hope you enjoy it! I’ll upload it in separate chapters.

While in hot pursuit of an infected monster, two Heroes face fears they battled long ago.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

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It was just before midnight, and a luminous full moon shone silver rays through the trees. The Heroes were all sound asleep under a large rocky overhang, save for two who sat keeping watch from a large, flat boulder sticking out of the ground a short distance away.

Today’s weather had been cursed with a brutal downpour. It was just their luck that all the rain drained into the valley they were traveling through, so the group had spent the day trudging against a frigid, unforgiving gale and slogging through knee-deep mud. Understandably, their relief was euphoric when they happened upon their natural shelter perched on a higher ridge, and they built a roaring fire at once.

Once the Heroes were sufficiently dried out and warmed up, the sun had already set, so they settled in. Miraculously, the clouds cleared up, and since Hyrule felt the least tired, he offered to take first watch. After a silent-yet-furious argument exchanged through indignant glares and avoiding eye contact, Sky volunteered to join him, despite being a hair’s breadth away from snoozing off.

Still, the two Heroes managed to keep each other awake through a constant stream of chatter, jokes, and (quiet) songs. Hyrule played a rather soulful tune on his flute; the notes produced were slow, yet smooth. They flowed through the air without haste, almost like a lullaby. Yet when Sky closed his eyes, instead of falling asleep, he felt his heart soar like it had grown wings, and an almost weightless sensation stole into his body.

It reminded him of a time he and Zelda snuck out of Knight Academy in the middle of the night and gone for a flight. The atmosphere was perfect. The quiet stillness in the air, the twinkling of a million stars. No clouds, just a light mist. The moon had been full, just like this night, and cast a beautiful silver glow over them and their Loftwings. He could still picture Zelda, lovelier than all of these elements combined, illuminated in the heavenly light. She looked like the goddess Hylia herself, which he’d later learned she was. The memory ebbed all the day’s stress and soreness from his body, but left a little ache inside his heart.

“That was incredible,” he sighed happily when Hyrule finished. “Where did you learn that song?”

Bashful at the praise, the brown-haired boy looked away. “I’m not sure, actually. It’s an old tune. Some say it’s been around since the dawn of Hyrule.”

“Really?” Sky leaned forward. “I never heard it until just now.”

Hyrule flashed him a quizzical look. “Well, maybe my flute doesn’t convey it as well. Sometimes, I think it sounds better on my recorder.”

Sky cocked his head to one side. “Then why not play the recorder?”

“Because I don’t want to summon a whirlwind in the first six notes!”

Sky blinked, not fully grasping what he just heard. “You don’t want to what?”

“You heard me! It would carry me off to who-knows-where!” Hyrule stood up, gesturing dramatically to the wilderness. Though his tone was serious, it also carried a hint of exaggeration.

“Seeing as you’re prone to getting lost, I’d say it suits you,” Sky joked.

Hyrule faced him now, a jolly glint in his eye. “Oh, but you don’t know half of it! It can also warp me right back where I started! In fact,” The glint turned mischievous, and he began slowly advancing toward Sky. “I could be gone for hours…”

Sky chuckled as he edged away. Exhaustion, combined with the late-night hours, must have caught up with Hyrule; delirium had taken hold, the kind that makes anything and everything downright hilarious, and Sky grinned as he felt it creeping up on himself, too.

“…And then, pop up right when you least expect it! Raaah!” With a yell, Hyrule lunged and shoved Sky off the boulder, only to slip and fall flat on his stomach where the latter just sat. A most undignified “Oooooof!” spluttered from his mouth, like air escaping a balloon. The Heroes erupted into hysterical laughter, Hyrule’s mixed with groans of pain, and Sky, sprawled on the ground with his legs propped against the boulder, clutching his stomach as he cackled like a Cucco.

“Shhh! We’re gonna wake the others!” Sky tried to sound serious and his voice cracked from the effort.

“You shhh!” came Hyrule’s witty retort before he dissolved into another laughing fit.

They laughed until they were literally gasping for breath, and even then, managed to laugh some more. Loud enough to drown out a third voice, cackling softly in the distance.

“Oh geez,” Hyrule finally wheezed out. “I feel like I cracked a rib.”

Sky rolled over onto his side, gulping in air. “You deserve it,” he croaked. A silly giggle hiccupped out. “I hit my shoulder hard when you pushed me! If it swells up, you owe me fifty Rupees.”

The brown-haired boy snorted. “Don’t exaggerate. Besides, I don’t even have fifty Rupees!”

“Then I’ll give you a matching bruise for payment.”

An empty threat, but Hyrule still offered, “How about some ice instead?”

“Deal!”

Hoisting himself up on his arms, he looked down at Sky. The Chosen Hero had already removed his green tunic and pulled down his undershirt’s left shoulder to examine the damage.

“How bad is it?” Hyrule asked, voice devoid of concern.

“The size of Four’s Octorok.”

“So, puny.”

“Feels worse than it looks,” Sky admitted, poking tentatively at the blackening bruise the size of a grape.

“You still want ice?” Even as he posed the question, Hyrule started to get up, only to lean back down. “Hey, that’s a neat scar!”

“Huh?” Sky flinched like he’d been slapped, hastily covering his shoulder with his hand. “I-I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hyrule rolled his eyes at the atrocious lie. “I already saw it. Looks like you fought a hard battle!” As he spoke, he eagerly leaned in closer.

Sky yanked his sleeve back up. “N-no, no I didn’t,” he stuttered, ears bright red. Deliberately turning his left side away from Hyrule, he added, “It’s none of your business.”

Normally, Hyrule might have let him be, but curiosity overtook him (it wasn’t like he had anything else to do). “What happened?” he pressed. “From what I saw, only a sword could have left that mark.”

“It’s nothing!” Sky growled, glaring daggers at his friend.

“Then why are you getting so defensive?” Hyrule straightened up, taken aback by his friend’s uncharacteristic surge of anger.

“Because you won’t leave me alone!”

“Was it an accident?”

“No.”

“Do you simply hate having your skin permanently disfigured?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t understand what the problem is!” Hyrule threw his arms up in exasperation. “Scars are nothing to be ashamed of.”

“This one is!” Sky snapped. The redness in his ears spread like fire to his face as he realized he’d said more than he wanted.

For a minute, he remained completely silent, refusing to meet Hyrule’s gaze. Then he exhaled heavily. “Look, unlike the rest of you guys’ crazy stories, it’s… it’s not my– my proudest moment, okay? I don’t– I don’t want to– to talk about it.”

A muffled giggle. Sky shot Hyrule a bewildered stare, more surprised than offended. Though not above poking fun at his friends, the Hero of Hyrule was the last to laugh at someone if they were genuinely upset.

“What?” Hyrule stared back, eyes wide.

“Why’d you laugh?”

“I didn’t. I thought it was you.”

He was dead serious. The two Heroes continued to stare at each other, silently posing the next question: Then who did?

A high, cold cackle answered. Further away this time, but loud enough for the Heroes to know they weren’t imagining it. Jumping to their feet, they unsheathed their swords. Instinctively, they put their backs together as they fervently scanned their surroundings for the source.

“Do me a favor,” Hyrule muttered. “Wake the old man. It’s his shift now.”

Rushing back to the camp, Sky shook Time as hard as he could, though this would prove in vain. If the old man did not want to be woken, he would not. He’d sooner sleep for seven years if you let him.

“Hey…! Hey! Wake up!” No response. His leader simply grunted and rolled over.

Sky tried the next-closest person. “Twilight? Can you hear me?”

No response. Not even the slightest twitch.

“Wild?” he tried again, voice rising in desperation. Surely the lightest sleeper would rouse. But there was no answer. “Anyone?” Sky couldn’t keep his voice from shaking. “Wake up!”

But no one answered, let alone stirred. He may as well have whispered.

“What’s wrong with them?” Hyrule demanded, hurrying to Sky’s side.

“They’re…they’re not waking up. It’s like they’re—”

“—Under a spell,” Hyrule finished in a hushed voice, as though his worst fears had been confirmed. “Of course… this must be the work of a Wizzrobe.”

“Wizzrobe?”

Another shrill cackle, like lightning splitting a tree. Immediately, the Heroes snapped back on guard; it sounded close. Too close.

“Robed monsters possessing incredibly powerful sorcery,” Hyrule continued, eyes narrowed as he peered into the shadows, trying to spot their unseen foe. “They typically rely on elemental magic, but stronger ones are known to wield dark magic. But to incapacitate seven people at once…there could be more than one, but it’s more likely one alone that’s beyond exceptional.”

Sky gulped. “You mean, infected?”

Face pinched, Hyrule nodded. “Exactly. We need to locate it as quickly as possible.”

“Would up there be a good place to start?” Unblinking, Sky raised a stiff hand and pointed above Hyrule’s head.

The Hero of Hyrule whirled around and gasped, for there atop the highest hill, the very creature he had described gazed down upon them.

Little more than a silhouette outlined by the moon’s full shine, the only features that could be made out were a tall figure draped in a heavy cloak, and two large bloodred eyes. Before either Hero could react, the Wizzrobe raised its hands and fired a tidal wave of black magic.

“Get back!” Hyrule jumped in front of Sky and raised his shield. The wave struck the shield directly, exploding in a blinding flash. But the shield remained unscathed, and the Heroes unharmed.

Undeterred, the Wizzrobe fired again. A blast twice as large as the last screamed towards them at breakneck speed. Yet the Hero of Hyrule remained poised, and quickly chanted something under his breath.

Bright radiance enveloped his shield a split second before impact, yet the dark magic was not blocked. It was reflected straight back at its source.

The wave’s full might slammed into the Wizzrobe. The monster collapsed, doubled over in shock and pain. For a few glorious seconds, the Hero of Hyrule thought he’d won, but the Wizzrobe rose up. He couldn’t read its expression, but those bloodred eyes looked murderous.

It let out a bone-chilling screech so loud it the Heroes’ ears threatened to bleed. The moon swelled to twice its size and took on a sinister crimson tint. Wind whipped around them like a tornado. Just seconds ago, the sky was clear, yet it now filled with ominous red clouds. Lightning flashed. Thunder reverberated high in the heavens and deep under the earth.

A bolt struck the ground right in front of the Heroes. With a yell, they threw their hands up over their faces, struggling not to fall down. Then the wind died down, leaving eerie silence ringing in their ears. Raising their heads, the boys saw that the sky had miraculously cleared. The moon shone stark white again. All seemed well, but the Wizzrobe had vanished.

“Where did it go?” was the first thing out of Sky’s mouth as he checked all around. Had it snuck up behind them in the confusion? Alas, there was no sign of the sorcerer. Their friends still slept peacefully, much to his relief.

“Was that…an illusion?” Hyrule stared blankly up at the hill, trying to comprehend all he’d just seen. “I sensed its magic was beyond ordinary, but I never imagined…”

“I don’t want to think what would have happened if you didn’t have your shield,” Sky murmured. “Sorry, but how’d you repel it like that? I didn’t see you move an inch!”

“A spell I picked up in my travels,” Hyrule explained shortly. Sweeping his gaze over the camp, he muttered, “No one’s stirring.”

“They aren’t awake?” Sky shot him a worried glance.

“The Wizzrobe only retreated. Temporarily, I’m sure.”

Sky sheathed his sword. “What should we do, then? Prepare for its return?”

“No,” came the Hero of Hyrule’s decisive response. “We’ll pursue it.”

“Hold on a second!” Sky held up his hands. “I’m not against hunting it down, but what about the others?” He gestured to their friends, who still showed no signs of waking up. “We can’t just leave them here, defenseless! Suppose the Wizzrobe doubles back?”

“It won’t,” Hyrule responded forcefully. When Sky stared blankly, he elaborated, “I’m not sure why, but I get the feeling it won’t continue its plan— whatever it is— unless it traps all of us where and how it wants.”

Sky bit his lip, choosing his next words carefully. “Look, I–I trust you. I just don’t trust the Wizzrobe. Maybe one– maybe one of us could find it—”

“No! It’s too dangerous to go alone. We need to confront it together, especially if it’s like all other monsters we’ve fought!”

“But—”

The Hero of the Winds cried out in his sleep. Hyrule and Sky whirled around to see the youngest Hero tossing and turning, his face twisted in pain. His hand stretched out, like he was reaching for something.

Hyrule and Sky rushed to his side, falling to their knees. A desperate, fragile hope clung to them. “Wind? Wind, can you hear me?” Sky called, his voice hoarse.

Wind’s reaching hand seized Sky’s arm. In his feverish state, the young Hero mumbled, “Got you… just… hold on… don’t let go!”

With his free hand, Sky grasped Wind’s. “Everything’s going to be okay, Wind. It’s just a bad dream! Wake up!”

But the youngest Hero only tightened his grip. “Please…hang on…” he whispered. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

The sight was too much to bear. Hyrule felt a huge lump forming in his throat. A choked gasp escaped from his lips and he fought to stifle it. He turned away, but he could not escape the horror that enveloped the rest of the sleeping Heroes. There lay Wild, twitching and shaking like a frightened rabbit. Warriors, curled up into the fetal position and muttering nonstop. Legend, shouting incoherently into the night, each tormented cry more agonizing than the last. Twilight, hands balled into fists and growling “no” through clenched teeth over and over. Time, whose whole body shuddered every few seconds. Four, who lay so still they couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

The Hero of Hyrule was at a loss for what to do. What to say. Their friends’ condition had evolved into something far worse than imagined. Could he and Sky, who were just two people, even consider confronting the Wizzrobe, which he was starting to see more as a demon? Despair welled up inside his heart, weighing down his entire body like heavy iron chains.

As quickly as it had set in, he shook off the invisible shackles. How dare he think like that? Their friends were depending on them! A spark of determination flickered in his heart, spurring him to action.

Standing tall again, Hyrule approached Sky, who still knelt beside Wind, cradling him and clutching the smaller boy’s hand. Hyrule rested his own hand on Sky’s shoulder. “Listen,” he murmured softly, “I don’t want to leave them, either. But even if we wait for it to return, we’re at the bottom of a valley. With the range Wizzrobes have, we’d be at a tremendous disadvantage.”

Sky didn’t meet his gaze, but after a few moments’ silence, he sighed. “You’re right. The only way we can help is if we find and put an end to what’s threatening them.”

As gently as possible, he lay the Hero of Winds down and tucked his blanket over his shoulders. Letting go of his hand earned Sky a heart wrenching sob from the boy, but he managed to push past it and stand up. The same spark glinted in his eyes, too. “Let’s go.”

[stardusttkachuk-main]

Down With The Flu

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 3,460

Warnings: mentions of vomiting, the flu, things associated with the flu, sam being a total sweetheart, fluff

Prompt: When the reader comes down with the flu, Sam’s right by her side, nursing her back to health even if it means seeing some of the worst sides of the girl he’s been falling for. 

A/N: I finally decided to finish this fic and post it. I wrote this back on New Years when I got sick, so everything in this is what I experienced then. This is also slightly dedicated to @impala-dreamer as she is down with the flu right now. Get well soon Beka and enjoy some Sammy taking care of you. (:

This is is. This is how you were going to die: tossing and turning in bed with what felt like a balloon swelling in your stomach. You were going to die, alone, at three a.m and nobody would discover you until probably late afternoon. You’d be rotting for probably 12 hours before someone found you. You were sure of it.

Between the constant tossing and turning and general uncomfortableness you had managed to doze off for another couple of hours. “Surely,” you thought the second you woke up and everything felt okay, “I’m dead.” And then the upset stomach returned.

You figured a bathroom trip would help. Maybe you were just gassy from all that questionable food you ate on the last trip. Or maybe it was food poisoning from the same culprit. You were thinking it was the later by the time you had sat down to do your business.

You hadn’t even had a chance to wash your hands after finishing up. You were headed there, eyes shut tight and mouth closed, biting down on the inside of your cheek, when you could feel what little was left in your stomach coming up.

You dropped to the floor, squatting in front of the toilet as your stomach expelled it’s contents once more, or what was left of them anyway. By the third heave, you were throwing up nothing but acid and air and neither felt good coming up.

A shiver ran through your body and soon enough, you were freezing cold in the t-shirt and leggings you had worn to bed. “A fever, great,” you mused, resting your hot head against your cool arm.

When you were sure it was over, and actually sure, you stood up, flushing the toilet and grabbing a rag from the cabinet. You ran the rag under warm water before rubbing it across your face, ridding yourself of the sweat and tears you’d produced from vomiting. You rinsed it out, then soaked it in cold water and laid it on the back of your neck.

With the rag still resting on your neck, you drug yourself back to your room, instantly collapsing into the full sized bed and curling up underneath the heap of blankets. Your shaky hands reached for your phone next to your table, checking the time. Seven a.m. No one should be awake at this time, not when it’s their day off and they want to relax. No one should be awake at this time, but you knew someone who was.

“Sam I’m dying please help,” you sent the text without thinking too much about it. Though, you realized you should’ve given it more thought when the 6’4 man burst through your door, gun held tight in his hands and shouting “where is it! I swear to god I’ll kill the son of a bitch!”

He lowered his gun seeing you curled up under the pile of blankets, and tucked it back into his jeans. “Y/N what’s going on? Are you hurt?” He moved to sit beside your bed, placing one large hand to your cheek. “You’re warm.”

“I’m sick,” you admitted, trying to shoo his hand away. “I dunno, it’s probably food poisoning. I knew we shouldn’t have trusted that crap gas station food.”

“Uh, two things,” he began, “You don’t get fevers with food poisoning and if it was food poisoning, Dean and I would be sick too. I think you’ve got a stomach bug, kiddo,” he soothed, his hand brushing back your sweaty locks.

“‘M not a kiddo,” you mumbled, pushing his hand away once again. “I’m only four months younger than you.”

He let out a lighthearted chuckle, moving his hands away. “Can I get you anything? Tylenol? Pepto Bismol? Some water?”

“Water would be lovely please and thank you.”

“Okay. You want anything to eat?” You grimaced at his question, feeling your stomach churn and face drain of color. “Or not. Just the water. I’ll be back.”

Sam sat on the side of your bed as you sipped the water. He simply waited until you were done and when you were he placed the cup on you nightstand. “Can I get you anything else?”

You shook your head, the action making you slightly dizzy. “I think i’m just gonna try to get some more sleep.”

“Were you up all night with this?” He asked, his hand brushing gently through your hair.

“Since about three this morning, yeah. I didn’t actually get sick until now though,” you informed him. “Hey actually, could you do one more thing?” When he gave a confirming nod, you continued, “will you put my hair up? I don’t know if i’m gonna throw up again but I don’t want my hair in the way if I do.”

“Sure darling.” Sam scooted behind you, letting you rest against his chest as he gathered your hair into a messy bun, securing it all with a hair tie. “Good?”

You nodded, the bun moving slightly on your head. “Perfect. Thanks Sam.”

“If you need anything else, I’m in the library. I’ll keep my phone close by. Get some rest.”

“I will do just that,” you hummed, already settling in for a nap.

“So much for a nap,” you thought when you woke up at 8:15. You were hoping to get three or four hours in but instead you barely got one.

You decided that getting up and trying to walk around would be the best idea but you could barely make it to the bedroom door before your stomach started to protest against going anywhere but the bathroom.

It wasn’t long before you were throwing up again. Acid and air, mostly, but you thought that was worse than actual food. It all sucked though and you were hoping this was just a 24 hour thing.

You were finally done and getting ready to leave when you felt a cool rag against your neck, sighing at the feeling. You hadn’t even realized Sam had come in until he was standing right beside you.

“I was passing by to check on you and heard you. Here, come here.” He pulled you up slowly, supporting most of your weight as he washed your face off quickly and returned the rag to your neck. “Better?”

You nodded, swallowing down the minor wave of nausea that had come again. “A little,” you told him.

He helped you back into bed, pulling the covers around you loosely. “Want some more water?” He asked, grabbing the empty cup.

“Will you bring me some toast or applesauce or something too?”

“You bet,” he grinned.

It had only been half a minute or so before he was returning to your room, a big tumbler cup filled with ice water in one hand and a packet of applesauce and a spoon in another. “Feelin’ any better?” he asked, handing you the cup and sitting on the edge of your bed again. He began to open the packet of applesauce, sticking the spoon inside and waiting to trade you - the water for the applesauce.

“Not exactly,” you said, taking another little sip before handing him the cup back.

“I sent Dean off to the store. He’s going to pick up some Gatorade and some more applesauce for you. Oh, and Lysol. He said he was going to get Lysol too,” Sam chuckled, trading you once again when you motioned for the cup back.

You swallowed the sip and let out a little sigh, “might as well. I really hope neither of you catch this.”

“I’m sure we could handle it if we did,” he shrugged. “I mean, you’re handling it like a rock star, and if Dean or I get knocked down by the flu and you don’t, that’s really saying something,” he teased.

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, taking the applesauce back from him.

Sam placed his hand to your head again, this time smiling a bit. “You’re not warm anymore. You feel feverish at all?” You shook your head at his question and traded him one last time: your now empty applesauce packet for the cup of water. “Need anything else?”

“To feel better,” you joked, producing a small smile, which caused Sam to smile too.

“I’m trying,” he chuckled halfheartedly. “I’m gonna work out. I’ll have my phone with me so don’t hesitate to text or call, alright?”

“Okie dokie,” you hummed, settling back down in bed. You felt Sam’s lips on your forehead, making your cheeks burn. He had never done that before. He’d hug you a lot, big squishy bear hugs that ended in you being spun around before being set down, but he’d never kissed you. You passed it off as Sam feeling sorry for you. You were just friends anyway and you knew that it could be a friendly gesture too. You didn’t have time to question it much before your eyes grew heavy and you fell into a semi-peaceful sleep.

You had woken up fully by about noon, just in time for Sam to walk in to check on you.

“He sleepy head,” he whispered coming forward to sit on your bed. “Need anything? Dean’s back with some Gatorade and ginger ale if you want that.”

“I think I’m gonna take a bath, maybe see if that’ll help settle my stomach.” You could remember doing that as a kid and it always seemed to make you feel better even if just for an hour.

You pushed yourself up slowly, reminding yourself to relax and breathe and not jar your stomach too much. Sam helped you to stand and while you headed for the bathroom, he collected your water and phone for you, meeting you there and helping you get settled by turning the water on for you and grabbing you a towel.

“I’ll be in my room just down the hall. Holler if you need anything. And I brought your phone if you need to text me. And some water, in case you get sick again.”

“Thank you, Sam,” you hummed, shutting the door behind him.

Once out of your clothes, you settled into the ever rising bath water. The warm feeling washed over you quickly and you were beginning to relax and let your stomach calm down. You didn’t wash anything, just simply lay there. You’d be sure to take a shower once you were feeling better.

You lay there for close to 45 minutes before the water turned cold and you turned to a prune. You eased yourself out of the tub, grabbing your towel and wrapping it around yourself. Unfortunately, you were not in the clear as the nausea set in again and you were doubled over the toilet, heaving up what you had just eaten.

It took you a few minutes to calm down but once you had you made slow work in getting back into your pajamas. You stood up again, hanging your towel on the hook when your vision began to go spotty.

You slid down the wall, realizing that you were lacking a lot of fluids. You had just thrown up the sips of water and the applesauce you had, which meant you were back to having nothing in your stomach. You took a long drink from the tumbler before yelling for Sam.

“I’m decent,” you said when he had knocked on the door and poked his head in with his eyes closed tight. “Even if I wasn’t I’m not sure how or why you’d want me right now,” you mumbled mostly to yourself.

“Because you’re beautiful either way.” Obviously your last comment was not as too yourself as you hoped, but Sam’s reply did make you smile a bit. “What’s up? Did you get sick again?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t the reason you needed him in here. “Will you help me to my room?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, “is everything okay?”

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out,” you informed him, hanging your head between your knees like you had been taught to do if you ever got that feeling.

“Hey, okay,” he soothed, kneeling in front of you. “Let’s not get up then. Let’s hang out here for a minute and let your body fix itself.” Sam reached for your water, positioning the straw in front of your mouth. “Take some drinks, relax, breathe,” he reminded you.

Sam sat with you for a few minutes, his hand gently rubbing your back and arms. You weren’t even sure how long you had been sitting there but you could’ve dozed off had Sam not spoke up. “You look like you’re gaining color back,” he commented. “Ready to stand up?”

You nodded, letting Sam take most of your weight as he helped you up. Unfortunately, even with Sam supporting your weight, you still felt faint. “I gotta sit back down,” you sighed, tightening your grip on him to keep yourself from swaying.

Sam began to worry. He wondered if he should take you to the hospital. Usually after some water most people were okay to get up again, but with you swaying in his arms, he panicked. “Hey, okay. Just hang in there. I’m gonna get you back to your room, alright?”

“S-Sam I won’t be able to make it. Just let me sit down a minute,” you pleaded.

“Just… hold on, Y/N, okay? I’m going to pick you up but I need you to hold on,” he asked gently. He set your water cup down, then easily scooped you up into his arms. “I got you. Just hold on,” he whispered, one hand grabbing the water and the other shutting off the bathroom light.

Sam gently laid you on your bed, tucking you under the duvet. “Wait here,” he commanded. Like you were really going to get up anyway. You weren’t even sure you could get up without falling back over.

You heard Sam yell to Dean, and then there were two sets of very quick footsteps. From there, it was a blur, but suddenly you could feel a cold wetness against your forehead. “You feel sleepy, Y/N?” Sam asked, and you could tell he was right beside you, dragging what you assumed was a washcloth over your face. You nodded, your throat suddenly feeling dry and cottony. “Dean’s gonna bring you some Gatorade, okay?”

“I don’t feel well,” you told him, straining to open your eyes. You had been thrown into walls and glass. You’ve been cut and stitched up and had dislocated shoulders and twisted or sprained ankles and nothing was as bad as this.

“I know,” he shushed, “just try and relax.”

Before you knew it, a straw was being pressed to your lips and Sam was urging you to sip from it. He held what you could only assume was the bottle of Gatorade and still drug the wet rag across your forehead and down your cheeks.

“She okay?” you heard Dean ask, much further away from Sam, so you guessed that he was by the door.

“I think so. It’s just the flu, it’ll be over before you know it.” You weren’t sure if Sam was saying that to reassure you, Dean, or himself, but it was comforting.

“Well, don’t you get sick too. I ain’t babying you,” Dean huffed, and you could almost hear the smile on his face. “I’m in my bedroom if you need me.”

Sam thanked Dean and pretty soon you could hear his heavy footsteps heading further and further away.

“Feeling any better?” Sam asked, and you nodded in response. “Still tired?” another nod. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” he hummed. “Gatorade and water are on the bedside table, and if you need anything else just yell, okay?”

You felt the bed shift as he got up and you quickly grabbed onto his wrist, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Will you stay with me?” You asked. “I don’t want to get you sick, but will you just sit here with me… incase something happens?”

“Sure,” he happily stated. “Do you want me to lay down with you?”

“I don’t want to get you sick,” you admitted shyly, but the truth was, yes, you wanted him to lay down with you and hold you and just somehow make you feel better by being with you.

“That’s not what I asked, darlin’,” he chuckled. “Do you want me to lay down with you?”

You nodded your head bashfully, “yes, please.”

Sam was in your bed just moments later. He shifted quite a bit to get comfortable, then waited for you to shift as well. Eventually, you rested with your head on his chest and his arm around you. One of his hands was resting on your hip, while the other was gently stroking the now damp rag over your forehead and cheeks again. Soon, the washcloth was rested against your forehead and his hands locked over your waist, holding you tightly to him.

You woke up hours later with your head still plastered against Sam’s chest. His arms were still locked around you and he was peacefully sleeping underneath you. His chest rose and fell with his steady breaths, and every so often you’d hear an almost inaudible snore leave his lips.

You shifted, trying to ease yourself out of the giant man’s arms, but, the slightest movement woke him. Hunter trait. “Y/N?” he hummed, peeking his eyes open and looking down at you. “Hey. You okay?”

You nodded, shifting again and bringing your hands up to rub your eyes. “What time is it?”

Sam hummed, shifting from underneath you to grab his phone. “Little after eight. You feel okay?” He asked turning back to you and slinging his arms over you again.

“‘M kinda hungry…” you mentioned, looking up at him.

Sam smiled a bit and nodded. He removed his arms from around you then stretched them over his head, groaning as he did. “What d’you want to eat?” He rolled off of your bed to be standing beside it, running his fingers through his tussled hair.

You slowly sat yourself up, stretching your arms and legs out. You moaned, twisting to the side and feeling your sore stomach muscles. You knew they hurt from how much heaving you did earlier.

“You alright?” Sam asked quickly as he heard you moan, coming by your side in an instant.

“My sides hurt,” you said with a low chuckle, cringing at the pain again.

“Mmh. Yeah you were heaving pretty hard,” Sam teased, chuckling himself. “I’ll get you a heating pad and… how do you feel about chicken noodle soup?”

“Both sound wonderful, Sam.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“Hey wait,” you spoke up as Sam was nearing the door. “I’m gonna come with you.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed, pushing yourself up slowly.

Sam walked back to you, holding you steady as you stood. “You sure? I don’t want you to almost pass out again.”

You smiled a bit, holding onto his outstretched hand for support. “I feel fine. I just wanna walk around a bit. I haven’t left my bed unless it was to puke and i’m getting antsy.”

Sam walked you at a slow pace to the kitchen. You were feeling significantly better, just starving and your stomach was making that well known with its growls. Every time it did, Sam would chuckle, which would make you giggle too and then moan at the aching pain in your sides.

You sat down at the table, per Sam’s request, and watched as he moved around the room, pouring the canned soup in a pan and then setting it on the burner before sitting across from you.

“You look much better. You scared me…” he paused, “a-and Dean. Me and Dean,” he corrected himself. “I was worried we might’ve had to take you to the hospital.”

Hesitantly, you leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered. You weren’t sure if you’d still be functioning right now had he not kept up with you and did his best to make you feel better.

Sam’s cheeks reddened and he bowed his head to hide the blush. “Yeah.” He drug a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head nervously. “All I expect is that you’ll take care of me if I end up getting what you had.”

“I promise. But I don’t think I’ll be able to lift you from the floor if you almost pass out,” you chuckled, hands flying to your sides.

Lucky for you both, Sam didn’t end up getting what you had. Dean, however, did and you never heard the end of it.

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