Supernatural Fic (M) - (11 Parts) - Complete

[Silent Sophie]

Oh I'm loving it more than I can say!

Sam + fever + sneezes + hoody + caring!Dean = happiness!

You're an awesome writer!

Well, don't know about others, but I don't hate Ruby at all, I like her. And I like Ruby/Sam ('cause they were HOT! There wasn't "love" between them, but the hotness was... my god! ).

Plus, I prefer Genevieve too.

And you know what, I think that that kind of sneeze is what we could hear from Jared in real life.

Oh my gosh! You have no idea how much I like that idea! Or maybe you do?

Awww yes, I DO. And you know Jared said in some interview that he has got allergy problems with some plant on the set! He's allergic to cedar, if I'm not wrong. (And intolerant to some dairy products too. Aw my cute boy. )

[shygreeneyes]

Adorable messed-up Sammy! Must cuddle!

I have no objection to any canon pairing, including Sam/Ruby. And they were cute, in a super-screwed-up kinda way.

[*lovely_lily*]

Ok this part was love!

I swear this is my new favorite SPN fic everrr!!!

Ok first you put in the part where he muffles his coughs once dean walks in which =

And then you had them in the bed together ( in a brotherly way mind you. Ok that still sounds just wrong...) but anyway... Its like you read my mind cause I've always thought 'wouldn't it be adorable to see Sam and Dean cuddle' and this is probably the closest I'll ever get to it so thank you I love you and asdkuekdsskjfsddddddd

[crazy_cat_girl]

Awwww! That is so so sweet!

[iluvsneezes]

This is getting better and better!! I can't wait for the next chapter.

[Lady Blessington]

I love your spellings.

[scarlett_ohara2]

I haven't seen this show yet but the way you write them... these boys sound adorable!

[BlueRandom]

Note: Heya, sorry it's been a while since I updated; new part'll be up in a few.

Aww, I love their relationship and the way you write it.

I don't know that girl you mentioned with Sam, so I say go for it!

Thanks - I love their relationship too, one of the best parts of the show.

Well, don't know about others, but I don't hate Ruby at all, I like her. And I like Ruby/Sam ('cause they were HOT! There wasn't "love" between them, but the hotness was... my god! ).

Plus, I prefer Genevieve too.

Thank you so much for your comment!! And they do make a really gorgeous couple, (and by that I mean sexy as ****). I posted the first part of that fic a few days ago, but I'm not sure how to continue yet. It might go a bit 18+, and I can't access the adult board yet, so we'll see. Probs not too adult, I can't write like that, but I'm not sure how explicit you can be?

And you know Jared said in some interview that he has got allergy problems with some plant on the set! He's allergic to cedar, if I'm not wrong. (And intolerant to some dairy products too. Aw my cute boy. )

Ahh, I love you for this! Okay, maybe not the dairy bit so much as the first part, but that is pretty funny.

Adorable messed-up Sammy! Must cuddle!

I have no objection to any canon pairing, including Sam/Ruby. And they were cute, in a super-screwed-up kinda way.

Hehe, thanks. Can I cuddle him too? We could share?

Ok this part was love!

Aww, thanks! I personally love some of mads3rv3r's and W.I.N's fics for the Sam-and-Dean-relationship bits -- they both write them amazingly and -deservingly. If it's okay to recommend ... then I'm recommending! There's so many good SPN fics on this site.

Awwww! That is so so sweet!

They are.

This is getting better and better!! I can't wait for the next chapter.

It's coming right up.

I love your spellings.

That means a lot! Yours are truly -ful; they're so unique and awesome!!

I haven't seen this show yet but the way you write them... these boys sound adorable!

You should watch it sometime - 'cos they are! And thanks for reading and commenting.

[BlueRandom]

Note: Also, could someone maybe update the parts on the title, please? Thanks.

Part Nine

Dean’s eyes snapped open, then closed again after less than a second. “Hh’ETSCHH!” His arms were still trapped underneath the sheets, and he rolled over guilty, expecting to see Sam glaring disapprovingly at him for sneezing openly.

Sam’s side of the bed was distinctly unoccupied. It was then that Dean’s ears tuned into the retching sounds coming from the bathroom, and he saw the shadow from the gap under the closed door. Dean was clueless as to how that was even possible; Sam hadn’t eaten for God only knew how long.

He went over to bang on the bathroom door, surprised to hear his voice come out more gravelly than usual. “Okay in there?”

There was a thump against the other side of the wood, presumably from Sam crashing into it as he stood up. The lock clicked open after several moments to show him leaning against the doorframe, his hair dishevelled and face an unnatural colour.

Dean wanted to say something, instead taking a step back, then bending forwards. “HEHHShoo! … ESCHH-uh!” He used the ring on the third finger of his right hand to scratch his nose ruefully.

“Bless –” Sam checked him over properly, and winced. “Uh, God, Dean – I’m sorry, man.”

“’S’alright.”

“I didn’t mean to get you sick …”

“Dude, shut up already.”

Sam made an indignant snorting noise from down in his throat. Dean was glad of his tetchiness for once, taking it as a sign that his fever had perhaps come down a bit since the previous night. His hopefulness quickly abated when Sam’s arms wrapped impulsively around his chest, containing the shivers that were running through his elongated body.

“Bed, Sam.”

Sam, feeling sweaty, snuffly, and just plain ill, headed back into the appealing snugness of the covers. “You don’t exactly look up to kicking ass either, you know,” he mumbled, mutinously.

“Yeah, well.” Dean flicked on the T.V., and positioned himself on his side of the bed. “We’ll just have to hope the case puts itself off for a while. If the professor’s ghost was just acting righteous ‘cos our guy was having an affair, then we should be able to leave it for a few days without any major disasters.”

Sam was running his tongue over the inside of his cheek, distastefully. “I’m gonna brush my teeth …”

Dean bobbed his head, concentrating on groping down the side of the bed for the untouched fries from the night before. He supposed that, if his appetite was still intact, he’d successfully managed to stay away from the fluey side of whatever it was that Sam had picked up.

Sam bent over the sink, the minty flavour of the toothpaste getting to him straight away. “Uhh’HESCHEW! … Uhh, Christ.” Carefully avoiding catching his reflection in the mirror, he swilled water around his mouth and splashed some over his face, drying it with a hand towel. His nose was twinging, and he could sense it building up in spite of himself. An inkling which was proved right when his nostrils started to flare involuntarily, his long fingers tightening around the rim of the sink. “Uhh … huh’uhh … uhhhh … uhh’HESCHH! … huh’ESHEWW! Uhhh … uhh’SHEHH!”

He came back into the bedroom, Dean watching as his large hand curled into a fist, lifted up to the underside of his nose almost in slow motion.

“Huh’ihh … hehhh’SHUHH!” Collapsing onto the mattress, Sam muffled another two sneezes into his pillow. For a moment they seemed to have subsided; until he sat up again, this time bringing his arm in front of his face. “Hehh … huh’CHSHhh!”

“What, you inhale a sand storm, or something?” Dean was rewarded with a watery-eyed glare.

“Can we change the channel?” His brother’s voice had a petulant side to it, although husky and quite vague.

“No way, dude.” Car chases were awesome, even if he was paying it a minimum of attention. He coughed, suddenly, hand brushing the stubble on his jawline as it moved up to cover his mouth.

Sam glanced at him cautiously out of the corner of his eye; unconsciously letting his head edge towards the folds of Dean’s leather jacket that lay on the sheet in between them, warm and strangely comforting. He couldn’t help thinking, with a suggestion of guilt, that he was so not up to having a sick Dean on his hands for the next few days if his brother chose to take the complaining route. Apart from anything, Dean was sure to push him away even further than usual. God, he just wanted to sleep …

Dean recognised Sam’s silence as an indication that he was feeling worse again. His eyes were closed, so Dean allowed the back of his fingers to sweep tiptoe-like across his forehead, heart sinking at the damp heat beneath Sam’s fringe, even though his shoulders were still quivering with cold. Dean dragged the covers from the single bed and draped them over him – longways, so he could claim one corner for his own. He kind of liked snuggling up on the bed, separated from Sam’s horizontal form by the leather jacket, watching the T.V. on mute so as not to disturb him. He could get used to this; being calm, dry, and temporarily out of range of monsters. If it wasn’t for the ache in his sinuses and throat, he would have been pretty much content.

And that was when the motel room phone began to ring.

_ _ _

[27jj]

BOTH WINCHESTERS SICK AT THE SAME TIME!!!

That is my absolute favorite

“What, you inhale a sand storm, or something?” Dean was rewarded with a watery-eyed glare.

Funny Ahhh, so much sneezy Sam!!!! It was glorious. Am I loving where you are taking this story.

[obsessed]

Parts updated.

This was adorable!

[shygreeneyes]

The boys can't ever get a break, can they?

Sick cranky Sam is ALWAYS adorable.

[scarlett_ohara2]

Sooooo cute. Soooo excited that Dean's in on it now too!

[iluvsneezes]

Omg, this is so awesome! Sick Winchesters are the best, and I'm loving this story SO much.

[MusicaDiabolos]

This story is definitely one of my favourites Keep going, you're awesome!

[ooo]

Oh wow, this story is amazing!

It's got this really...well, realistic is probably the wrong word to use for fanfic, but it really feels like it could be on the show, like it might actually be an episode? It's something to do with the way you work the case/investigation in around yummy, sick guys. I love that they're both sick and kind of trying to look after each other, so adorable!

But Dean, eww, gross with last night's fries! That's so Dean though. And ahh - now I really want to know who's on the phone!

[BlueRandom]

Note: I think the next part’s going to finish this up.

Part Ten

“Who?”

“The dead guy’s wife.” Still brandishing the phone, Dean was shoving his feet into boots. “She’s in trouble; she was screaming, and … Sam, we have to get to the house.”

“Why the hell would she be calling us?” Sam’s mind was foggy and tired, trying to understand a situation that was utterly irrational. “Dean, we’ve never even met the woman.”

Dean was adament. “She’s going to be murdered!” He had snatched up his gun, then rounded on his brother. “No, wait. I’m going on my own.”

“You’re not going at all. There’s something wrong with this.” Sam pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, grimacing; but he was already following Dean’s lead, trying to get a jacket over the bulk of his hoody. His own boots hadn’t dried as well as Dean’s after the lake – steam was still floating in wisps from them as they lay under the heater – but he took them up regardless.

“Look at yourself. You’re a mess.” Dean impatience to reach the woman was overriden by his frustration with Sam. “You look like you just got in a fight with freakin’ Jack Frost.”

“Charming.” Sam was coughing, spluttering a little as he attempted to speak. “Can we just take some time to think this over?”

“You’re kidding, right?” The front door of the motel room was open, Dean halfway through it. Sam caught up to him as Dean’s head slammed forwards, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Hh’ESCSHH!”

“Hypocrite.”

“Bitch.”

The Impala’s windscreen had acquired a thin layer of ice overnight; so Dean switched up the air conditioning as the engine growled. Sam had to steel himself to stop from shuddering, knowing Dean was holding out for any excuse to kick him out of the car and back to the motel. Not that he needed a further reason: Sam’s lips were tinted blue, and he was still dazed.

The car’s tyres screeched to a skidding halt outside the gates at the entrance of the house. It was Dean who voiced what Sam had only dimly registered.

“There’s tyre marks in the snow. Someone’s been here already.”

Sam was crouching down, relieving the dizziness that had engulfed him with the cover of examining the path. “A truck. It reversed the way it came; so not the owner. I thought we were dealing with a ghost?”

Their eyes met for an instant, before Dean began to haul himself over the iron gate. The fibres in his arms were protesting, but he swung his legs over resolutely, and stood facing Sam through the metal bars. “Go back to the car.”

Sam’s mouth compressed, and he mimicked Dean’s actions; biting on his cheek to make sure he stayed conscious. He wavered precariously as his feet struck the path on the other side, and Dean flinched instinctively, ready to hold him up.

A scream sounded from the building in front of them. Dean seized Sam’s arm, pulling him onwards, the soles of their boots pounding the rough earth, nearly perfectly in step. They burst into the house, panting, the wood of the door splintering as it crashed inside. Silence surrounded them; a poorly-lit hall with peeling floral wallpaper and rows of uneven bookshelves. A tilt of Dean’s head signified that Sam should check the lower rooms, while he ventured upstairs.

Sam stepped into the living room, gun poised, scrubbing at his nose with his left wrist. Deserted. He turned back, starting to move away.

With a resonating crunch, he was hurled sideways into the wall, the light fittings in the ceiling quaking dangerously. A shout from upstairs and a thundering of footsteps told him Dean was coming, but he couldn’t find the strength to warn him away. He was suddenly aware of a presence behind him, a source of energy that threw Dean aside with casual ease. Sam heard the winded grunt as he struck the floor, could see the gun spinning several feet across the carpet from the corner of his eye.

“Nice to see you again, Sammy.”

Sam knew before he’d even raised his head. He spoke through clenched teeth. “Meg.”

It was amazing how much bitterness he could cram into the congested voice that could scarcely pronounce the name.

“And you brought Dean. Howdy, boys.” She smiled maliciously, eyes temporarily gleaming jet black in contrast with her cropped blonde hair. A twist of her hand, and they were brought upright; limbs pinned to the wall. “I gotta say, you’re not looking so hot, Sam.” She traced his jawbone with her fingernail, basking in his anger.

“Uhh … uhh’nxt-chahh!” Sam swore viciously in his head, every muscle clenched to suppress the sneeze.

“God ble – or not.” Meg smirked, pressing her lips close to his cheek. He felt himself flush, his jaw set.

“What do you want, Meg?” spat Dean, anxious to divert her attention from Sam.

“Oh, have a little fun, play a little game …” She let her hand slide over Sam’s neck. “And the Colt.”

An image of the Impala’s trunk jumped to the forefront of Dean’s mind. He was immediately grateful for the protection they had inscribed in its roof to keep the gun secure. “Sorry, sweetheart. No can do.”

“Did you like my set-up?” She gestured at the mansion’s interior, in particular the lopsided frame containing a black-and-white photograph of a grey-haired man with spectacles and an impressive set of whiskers. “I always was a fan of ghost stories.”

“Right, I get it.” Dean faked a drawling smile. He was remembering Sam’s conviction that he’d seen a demon on the bridge; and the mysterious blonde woman that Ericka had been mistaken for. Meg had been lurking in the background the whole time.

Sam’s eyes were narrowing, chest heaving in short, irregular gasps. His arms were straining against their non-existant bonds, trying to succumb to the reflex that would bring them up to his face. “Hehh … uhhh …”

“You Winchesters,” scoffed Meg. “You can never just let yourselves go, can you?”

“Uh-nnn …” He wrenched away from her, stifling into his shoulder. “Uhh … uhh’CHSHhh!”

Meg was clearly enjoying his torment. “Baby, the sooner you hand over the Colt …”

She was distracted, her attention solely on Sam’s miserable condition. Dean felt the momentary release of his fastenings and lunged at her, catching her in a chokehold against the door. Sam had caught up with what was happening, and began to intone the Latin phrases of an exorcism, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Meg screamed, writhing and contorting; but there were no traps to hold her, and she was able to fling Sam aside, cutting off his words. He hit the bricks of the fireplace and rolled onto the ground. Dean let out a roar, throwing the demon from him with all his strength; the impact sufficient to knock her unconscious.

“Shit, Sam – I screwed up; I’m so sorry.” Dean scrambled over to his brother, supporting his weight across his own jean-clad lap.

He couldn’t destroy the demon without harming the girl she was possessing. With Sam out cold, he had no chance of performing an adequate exorcism. Meg was bound to wake up at any point, and the only option left to Dean was to run.

_ _ _

[crazy_cat_girl]

Oh, my goodness, this is so EXCITING! I can't wait to hear what happens next!

You're awesome!

[obsessed]

I'd love to see more! Loving this. :]

[Lady Blessington]

First the sneezy DEEEEEANNNN, and then the sneezy Sam who can't move and is all stifly and Meg's just loving the show and almost kissing his cheek... this is HOT!

[iluvsneezes]

Awesome chapter! I can't tell you how much I adore sick!Sammy!

[27jj]

This has got to be the best chapter yet! Super hot sneezy Sam who's pinned against the wall and both boys are sick at the same time and its a cliff hanger!!

[ooo]

Wow. This is EXCITING and HOT and just, incredible well written. Mmm, tied-up Sam...and I love the way you write Meg, I got the exact same feelings from her in your writing as I did on the show, so that's really cool. Well done!

[Silent Sophie]

Oh man... Your sneezy Sam is always so HOT, I'm crazy for him!

Wonderful chapter, I'm waiting so impatiently for the next one!

I posted the first part of that fic a few days ago, but I'm not sure how to continue yet.

Uh! I missed it! I'm going to look for it right now!

It might go a bit 18+, and I can't access the adult board yet, so we'll see. Probs not too adult, I can't write like that, but I'm not sure how explicit you can be?

I think you'll pass the line when you write visual descriptions (of sex, sexual approach, nudity or something).

[BlueRandom]

Note: Okay, final part! It was really fun writing this, and thank you so much for reading and commenting!

Part Eleven

Dean rounded the Impala into Bobby’s driveway, abandoning a failed attempt to prise a semi-conscious Sam from the back seat. A few thumps on the front door and a disgruntled exchange later, he and Bobby were supporting Sam up to the house, one under each armpit.

“I love you, Bobby,” Sam muttered appreciatively, snuffling into his sleeve before burrowing onto the battered sofa with an expression of bemused relief.

“Huh.” Bobby handed him a chipped mug of orange juice, looking typically reluctant but patting the couch all the same. “You,” he pointed to Dean. “You sit down with y’brother.”

Dean nearly protested, but sneezed harshly to one side. “ETSCHH!” He caught Bobby’s eye, and shuffled over next to Sam, pouting and looking dubiously at the juice. “Got anything a bit stronger?”

“It’s good for you, idjit.” Bobby was shooting searching looks at Dean while producing a scruffy blanket for the younger Winchester.

The journey had been a nightmare: around sixteen hours to cover the thousand-or-so miles to South Dakota, with Sam coming round only in the final stretch. Dean had done the only thing he could think of; sealing the room they had just left with devil’s traps drawn on the floor, doors and ceiling. He had delved into the cellar and managed to come out with a ton of rock salt, so he had strewn that around the windows and exits, too. It wouldn’t hold Meg forever, but it would buy them time. And time was what they needed.

Sam seemed to be content dozing for a while, huddled into the blanket, so Dean and Bobby moved through to the kitchen.

“How’d you get him in that state?” Bobby wanted to know, switching on the kettle.

For a moment, Dean didn’t answer; muffling coughs into his fist. “New Hampshire case.”

Bobby caught the look in his eyes, and made a face. “Lord. Not just a burn case, huh?”

“It was Meg.” He accepted the mug of coffee gratefully, thankful that Bobby never asked too many questions.

A lengthy pause. “Reckon Sam’ll be alright. I expect the kid was running around like that?”

“Yup.”

“You boys never learn.”

“Thanks a lot, Bobby.”

*

It was growing light again by the time Dean next awoke, at first oblivious to his surroundings. There were pinkish beams streaking in through the gap in the living room curtains, illuminating spirals of dust floating in swirls above the sofa. Dean noted that his legs were aching from being cramped in a kind of foetal position, and pushed himself upright. Sam was sitting cross-legged next to him, watching the embers in the fireplace. It seemed that Dean had somehow usurped one side of the sofa in the night.

“Hey. You look nearly human.”

Sam ran a finger under his nose, gingerly. “Yeah. Better.” His hair was damp from the shower, and he had changed into fresh clothes.

“You should be. You slept about twenty-four hours yesterday.” Dean was massaging his throat, eyes still puffy with sleep. “Pity we had to leave so soon. That chick, Ericka. Damn, she was hot.”

“We could … uhh … uhh’HESCHH!” Sam winced, and continued. “We could always go back.”

“Look who’s up to making jokes.”

Sam gave a feeble half-smile, as Dean kicked the blanket onto the floor and coughed in an early-morning kind of way. His own breath caught, hitching again to an unintentional gasp. “Huh … huhh’ESHEWW!”

“Still too sick to get back on the road?” probed Dean, smirking.

“I think I’ll manage. And you know you want to spend some time with Bobby first.”

The sun was still low in the sky when the pair of them wandered out into the salvage yard; Dean fondling the cool hood of the Impala as it stood in the midst of the scrap metal and broken up cars. Sam’s eyes were watering in the piercing light, and he felt himself give in to the familiar reflex. “Hehh’SHEWW! … huhh … uhh … huhh’SHEHH!”

“Still breathing there?”

“Sure. Man, I’ll be glad when that’s over.” He rubbed the tip of his nose gently with the knuckle of his index finger.

“You and me both.”

Bobby’s crunching treads caused them to crane around as he approached, bearing several cans of beer. “Bless,” he nodded to Sam, setting two down and cracking open his own.

“Thought you were opting for the healthy stuff?” Dean asked, a little edgily.

“It was past your bedtime.”

Sam chuckled unwillingly, the sound estranged and still congested, but welcome to the others. They would be back on some trail sooner or later, Dean knew – hell, they’d probably be the ones being pursued. But it was worth it, the whole deal. If just for the moments in between.

End.

_ _ _