A Winchester's Job Is Never Done...

[Galaxy]

So! I don't know how many parts this will be; I shall cross that bridge when we come to it. And 27jj! I know I promised this for your birthday, and I'm so super sorry that it's late; Had computer issues and things. x.x But here it is, the sick!Sam I promised!

There's not much sneezing in this part...I'm sorry. ;A;

~~~~~~~~

Dean Winchester stared out at the open Colorado mountains before him from where he sat on the hood of his beloved Chevy Impala. He took in a deep breath through his nose before a smile made it's way to his face. “Sammy, I can't tell you how good it feels to breathe again,” he sighed, leaning back on the window. He tilted his head to look up at the clean, perfect sky, and wished for an instant that he could do this for ages. If only they didn't have a job to do...

“That was some nasty cold you had there, Dean,” said the younger Winchester, Sam, from his seat in the passenger side of the car. He was examining all the evidence they had of their current case. In the town of Paradox, Colorado, there had been strange sightings of a young girl dressed in vintage garb who would appear and promptly disappear before a terrible accident. So far, this had happened at a school shooting, five car pile-up, and the collapse of an apartment building. What they were currently trying to figure out was whether the ghost girl brought on these accidents, or if she was trying to warn those around her of what was happening. Either way, it was a case in the supernatural, which made it the perfect case for the Winchester brothers.

Dean chuckled humorlessly to himself, watching the geese above him as they flew back North after a long, cold winter. “You got that right. Didn't think I was gonna make it there for a while.” He stretched the limbs that he wished were as long as his younger brother's and yawned. “How's it coming along, Sammy?”

“Slow,” admitted Sam. “Give me another ten, fifteen minutes, okay?”

Dean didn't need any convincing; This just gave him more time to relax, a luxury that neither of the Winchesters got very often in this line of work. Dean was so consumed with what was slowly becoming a daydream that he barely noticed Sam's quiet

Sdff.

Dean furrowed his brow, but didn't pay much mind to the sniff. Everyone sniffed, it wasn't a big deal. It's not like Sam went and caught his--

Sdfff... “Huh...” Snff.

“How ya feeling, Sam?” asked Dean, a sinking suspicion filling his gut.

“Fine,” answered Sam hurriedly. “I think it's just the mountain air getting to me....Sdff.”

Dean nodded, still suspicious, though he didn't really want to change this perfect little moment he was having with his beloved car. “Alright, then.”

And that was that. And it remained that for another five minutes or so. Those minutes were quiet, aside from Sam's sniffling, though Dean had gradually tuned it out to focus on his perfect daydream about Victoria's Secrets models...

He nearly fell off the car when Sam released a sudden, powerful “IhhHHtschhOO!”

“Christ, Sam!” gasped Dean, heart racing in his chest. Damn, he must've been getting soft. Nothing had surprised him like that in weeks. He twisted around to look at Sam, who was rubbing a sleeve against his nose nonchalantley, gaze still locked on the newspaper articles he was examining.

“Sorry, Dean,” he said, not really sounding sorry at all. “I'll warn you next time I have to sneeze if I scared you so bad.”

“You didn't!” protested Dean with a frown. He ran a hand through his short hair and slid off the car and into the driver's seat. He was about to rev up the engine, when a thought struck him. “You didn't catch my cold, did you?”

Sam glanced up at Dean for a split instant before gazing back down at his work. “Dean, it was one sneeze. They happen every now and again. I'm fine.”

Dean stared at his little brother for another long moment before revving up the car and turning the radio on to his favorite classic rock station. “So where's Paradox?”

The younger Winchester gazed at the map in his lap, taking in another quick sniff. “About fifteen miles west of he—hih!-”

Dean glanced up just in time to see Sam's upper lip quiver and eyelids slam shut, a wobbly hand held just in front of his face. An instant later, he snapped forward with the force, the papers in his lap scattering to the floor. “IhHHpschh! Oh, crap...” He hurriedly began to pick up the mess of papers, nose sniffling rapidly. “Damn it...we got any napkins in—Dean!”

The older of the two had placed his palm on Sam's forehead, much to the taller Winchester's horror. “You're feeling kinda warm, Sammy,” Dean stated, cocking an eyebrow at his brother.

Sam jerked away from his brother's touch, brow creased in irritation. “I told you, Dean, I'm fine,” he snapped, and began to rummage around in the glove compartment for tissues. He found a wad of napkins, and not a moment too soon, it seemed. His nose was already twitching again, eyes sliding shut. “Hh—huh-!”

“Sam, wait!” said Dean hurriedly, but was too late. Sam buried his nose in the napkins and released three rapid fire sneezes, each wetter than the last.

“Huhhtshh! Ihtschhh! Huh-huhhtschOO!”

Dean signed and leaned back in his seat as he watched his brother wipe at his nose. “Damn it...nevermind.”

“What?” asked Sam from behind the scratchy napkins that were already starting to chap his nose.

“Nothing. Just had some...well...”

Sam had already noticed. On one napkin was written “Patty: 555-3294” while another read “Sabrina: 555-3146”, and the rest of the napkins seemed to have similar things on them.

“Oh...sorry...” murmurred Sam, giving his reddening nose a final sniff.

“It's fine,” sighed Dean, driving out of the place they had parked. “I probably wouldn't have ended up calling them anyway.” He was quiet for a moment before narrowing his eyes. “Mountain air has never given you a problem before--”

“Dean,” said Sam in a finalizing sort of way. “Listen to me. I. Am not. Sick. Got it?”

“...”

“Well?”

“Fine, Sam, I got it, I got it...”

[ID2006]

Yum yum. This is turning out lovely. So excited there's more coming.

[BlueKeeper]

This is pure gold <3 I'm exited for updates!

[SexualOddity]

Mmmmmm... yummy! I love the stubborn denial and the anticipation that comes from knowing that it ended up really bad for Dean. And... oh Sammy, sneezing all over the girls phone numbers. Your characterisations are fantastic as well. Love, love, love, LOVE it!

[sneezychick93]

so good! I always love sick Sammy stories and this one in incredible so far! Love his denial!!!

[VividBubbles!]

More. Now.

BYE!

[iluvsneezes]

This is an awesome story so far!! I adore sneezy!Sammy SO much.

[Sneezy Sunny]

I am looking forward to reading more. Great work so far!

[27jj]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

omg, Sam almost falling off the car when he sneezed

and startling Dean

and forehead feels

and Sam using Dean's phone-number-napkins

I LOVE YOU

[DogLover]

Even more sick Sammy? I'm in heaven...

Update soon!

[Galaxy]

So ohmygod I'm back! xDD Aha, I've been absent or very very scarce on the forum for months now due to computer problems, but alas! Here I am again with the second part of 4, and I swear to you that this shall be updated more frequently. xDD First I must thank you all for the kind comments, they made my so vair vair happy. And secondly I must say that I am SO SO SORRY 27JJ THAT THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG AND I STILL LOVE YOU. ;A; Just...I'm sorry. xDD And I hope that this makes up for it~

And ohmygod I don't know why the spacing's so funky, but I don't have time to fix it. xD Sorry about the spacing~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The thing about Northern Colorado: It can be freezing and snowing in an instant, even in late spring, while the rest of the state was suffering 100 degree weather and sweltering conditions. Sam had never seen an example of this, and was beginning to think it was an exageration, when he and Dean finally arrived in Paradox. A chill ripped up his spine the instant he stepped out of the car, shivering and bit and looking to Dean. “It was 99 degrees in Denver!”

Dean chuckled and started towards the Sutton Red Motel, swinging his car keys around his index finger. “Colorado weather's just bipolar, Sam. Dad and I had a case in Breckenridge a few years back, in July, and it dropped to 45 degrees the same day Lawrence hit 110.” He smirked to Sam, giving his little brother a joking nudge. “Hey, better bundle up, Sammy, don't want that cold getting worse.”

Sam shook his head with a humorless smile, looking away from Dean, forcing himself not to insist that he wasn't sick. That would only give Dean more of a reason to keep poking fun at the fit of sneezes he fell into earlier in the day. He glanced over to a small cafe across the street and started for it. “You get the room,” he said to Dean. “I'm gonna finish up that research.”

Dean nodded and gave his brother a half hearted wave, too used to this sort of routine, before disappearing into the motel office. Once the room was secured as theirs, he took their few belongs into the motel room, and was pleased that it wasn't sleazy or infested with maggots or something horrible like that; As travelers, they came across that sort of thing all too often. Upon settling in, Dean hopped right back into his beloved Impala, dispite the short distance from the diner, and parked across the street, entering the quaint little eatery and scanning the place for his brother. The diner was considerably deserted, for lunch time, and Dean knew why upon sniffing the air and wrinkling his nose at what smelled like burned bacon and grease. Looks like he'd be getting his pie to go. Dean pocketed his car keys and spotted Sam in the corner of the diner, on the edge seat of the counter, a half empty drink and his laptop in front of him. The older Winchester started over for him, when he stopped in his tracks and saw Sam's expression, realizing what his brother was battling.

Sam was leaned forward, his elbows on the counter and a napkin held tight in one of his fists. His normally alert and soft brown eyes were glazed over and unfocused, eyebrow twitching as well as his upper lip, pulling back slightly to reveal straight white teeth.

Dean cocked his head and bit back a chuckle, crossing his arms and watching his baby brother, honestly amused by this. Even from across the diner, Dean could clearly see Sam's nostrils twitching dangerously, nose slowly crinkling along with his brow.

“Ihh...” came a breathy hitch, his eyes sliding shut with what looked like a tickle that was just unbearable. Hell, if Sam didn't look so damn hilarious right now, Dean would've felt bad for him.

“IhhHHT'chh!” Sam sneezed quickly, the napkin providing a bit of a stifle. But stifles always just made Sam Winchster sneeze more and more. Dean knew this, and couldn't help but laugh a bit when he saw his brother's twitching brow, desperately fighting off more sneezes.

“Hey, Sammy!” Dean finally said, making his little brother jump slightly as he took a seat next to him, pretending he didn't notice Sam's twitching brow or tortured nostrils. “How's that research coming along?”

Sam swallowed hard, looking to Dean and making a smile, unaware that is seemed terribly wobbly and forced. “G-Great, but I-I can handle it myself...”

“Well, I'm sure you can, Sammy, just came by for some pie, it's always better when it smells like grease...~”

Sam groaned inwardly, now aware of why Dean was smirking. “I-I can bring you some when I'm done here...” he croaked out, each word sending a vibrating tickle throughout his already tortured sinuses. God, being in the car with Dean for that hour earlier was miserable, having to hold back sniffles and tickles and sneezes. This was where he came to let out all the pent up discomfort without Dean making fun, or worrying like he knew he would once the humor of Sam losing control like that wore off. God, all he wanted to do was sneeze...

The very thought just sent a nasty tickle through his already battered sinuses. Sam took a fresh napkin and held it to his nose, pinching it shut and shaking with near silent, stifled, and uncomfortable sneezes. “Ihhtxhh! Hihhxshh! Ihhxshh!” The stifling only seemed to spread the tickle, and Sam was about to just let loose when he became aware of a soft chuckle from Dean. No way he'd sneeze openly now. So he was stuck there at that counter, shoulders trembling with sneezes that just grew harder and harder to stifle.

“Ihxhh! Hnxxt! Ihhxhh! Ihhtchh! Tchh! Iyytschh! Ihbshh! Hih-IHHshh! Hih-ihh--”

“Oh, for God's sake,” sighed Dean, the smirk of his fading after the first five sneezes. He snatched Sam's wrist and pulled it from his face, just enough to get the younger Winchester to release the hold on his nose, but to still manage to cover his explosions with the napkin. Sam hitched, the feeling of clarity lasting but a moment before he shot back into the paper, shoulders tensing and long legs jerking with the force of the rapid fire sneezes.

“IhHHTshhOO! HihhtshUU! IhHHIhttshOOH! IhhihchUU! Ihih---ihih---...” The violent hitches slowly relaxed, along with his muscles, and Sam sniffled weakly, head muddled and aching from all the sneezes. “Th-...Thanks,” he murmured briefly to Dean, wiping discreetly at his nose. “Th-The smell in here just got to me.”

“Sure it did.”

“Dean...”

“Calm down, Sammy, don't get defensive,” chuckled Dean, looking to the menu. “Everyone catches colds, you don't have to be embarrassed.”

Sam rolled his eyes and sniffled, looking back to his computer to hide the blush tinting his face. “I'm not embarrassed, because I'm not sick. And even if I were, we have a case, Dean, I don't have time to get sick.”

Dean shrugged and spoke to a waitress to get him pie and coffee, before turning back to Sam, the smirk still on his face. “Sam...You know, I don't think you've been sick since we started looking for dad. Couple years now, wow...”

Sam chuckled and shook his head, giving his tingling nose a light swipe. “Oh, I've been sick, Dean. Like five times.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, I just don't go sneezing on everything I touch and griping like you do. But Dean, seriously. I'm not sick.”

Dean finally frowned at this, cocking an eyebrow to Sam. Fine. If he was going to be a little bitch about this, then he wouldn't do the brotherly thing and make his younger brother stay in bed. No, Sam was going to get worse and worse, more congested and more miserable, until he finally swallowed his pride and admitted he had a nasty cold. Dean only smiled and nodded at his little brother, accepting his pie from the waitress and taking the first bite, unable to hide that remaining smirk. “Whatever you say, Sammy. Whatever you say.”

[iluvsneezes]

Aww, poor Sammy, trying so hard to stifle his sneezes!!

[VividBubbles!]

This... is going to be very awesome. More please!

BYE!

[Zwee]

Hahaha, Northern Colorado sounds like my hometown! Bipolar weather all the way!

This story is... YUM. Like, poor, stifling Sammy. How many sneezes was that? *goes back and counts* 16? 17... Wow. I'm in love. And I can totally relate. Stifling never helps me either!

Plus, devious Dean deciding not to help Sam until he's forced to admit to his misery! The only question on my mind: Will Dean's brotherly instincts kick in first, and he won't even be able to resist taking care of poor sick Sammy, or will Sam cave in and just admit it first?

So excited for the next part!

[27jj]

DEFINITELY MAKES UP FOR IT

thank you thank you thank youuuu

Can't wait for the other parts!

[Ciel]

No, Sam was going to get worse and worse, more congested and more miserable, until he finally swallowed his pride and admitted he had a nasty cold.

Can't wait!!

[SexualOddity]

Oh my goodness woman, this is hot! All the build ups and Sam trying so hard not to sneeze and denying all knowledge of being ill and the promise of Sam getting worse and worse and more congested and miserable. Just... wow. Soooooo much awesome,

[Parksborn]

This is all kinds of perfection. <3

PLEASELETMELOVEYOU~

[Galaxy]

THIS PART IS BAD AND I SHOULD FEEL BAD

I'm sorry it's been so long, I just---school and writer's block and school and work and then also my computer's an asshole and YES DID I MENTION SCHOOL IS HORRIBLE

BUT I REALLY TRIED I REALLY DID SO PLEASE TAKE THIS PART

ALSO I LOVE ALL OF YOU AND PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR THE CAPS I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELS ABOUT THIS AND THANK YOU FOR THE KIND REVIEWS YOU'RE ALL PERFECT PEOPLE AND PLEASE ENJOY THIS PLEASE

~~~~

Dean crossed his arms and smirked, leaned against the hotel nightstand and he watched Sam get ready for bed. They had a pretty productive day, he supposed, and even found an identity for

the little apparition. It seemed that she had been the daughter of the town's founder, Montgomery Paradox. She had been in a freak accident at the town's first parade, being trampled on by multiple horses, and the whole town was there to witness in horror. Dean and Sam assumed that this was why she was appearing at freak accidents around town; But why now? Why not start showing up way back when she died? Why start this nearly a century later? That's what they had to find out.

Up until just a few hours ago, Sam and Dean had been going by local lore. They didn't have anything for sure, so they were glad to find that the town had a local historian. After being directed there, they decided to walk the two and a half blocks to the woman's house. Well, Dean decided, actually; Sam just didn't know how to say that he wasn't feeling well enough for the walk.

Ah, yes. Sammy would be admitting his ailment in good time.

“How ya feelin', Sammy?” asked Dean about half way to the house of Clarabelle Laufey, the crisp mountain air filling his lungs.

“Fine,” said Sam a bit irritably, starting to suspect what Dean was doing. First it was his behavior at the diner. Then Sam's jacket mysteriously disappeared, but of course he couldn't admit that he was cold. And now all the questions about how he was feeling...

Dean knew he was sick. But he wasn't going to be right this time. Sam would be sure of it.

They reached the cobblestone house at the end of the block and stepped up to the door, pads and pens ready to come off as the perfect journalists. Dean knocked hard on the door and stepped back, looking over briefly to Sam. He struggled to keep back a laugh when he recognized the look on his little brother's face; Brow knit, nostrils twitching, lashes fluttering.

“You go ahead and do introductions, alright?” he said with a smirk.

“Wha--? D-Dean, I hahh...” Sam stopped and swallowed his words when the door opened, revealing a skinny, dark-toned woman with neat black hair and grandma glasses. Dean frowned when he saw her, having hoped that this historian would have at least been in her twenties.

“Ohh, you must be the boys from the magazine that called earlier?” she asked with a sweet smile, turning and shuffling back into the house. “I'm Mrs. Laufey. Let's see, what did you say your names were...”

“Paul Stabler and Ryan Benson, ma'am,” answered Dean, looking back to Sam's twitching nose and fluttering eyelashes.

“Oh, of course! Please, come in, boys, I've got cofee brewing with--”

“Ihhxshh!” Sam tried to stifle a quick sneeze, pinching his unruly nose between his fingers. Dean bit back a laugh and Mrs. Laufey jumped a little, looking to him with her gentle smile. “Bless you, dear. You two take a seat, I'll be right with you.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” said Dean politely, sitting himself in one of the scratchy 70's couches in her living room. He raised his eyebrows when Sam hesitated in sitting, a hand lingering before his face. Dean, naturally, knew what was happening, and would normally feel bad to see his little brother in such misery. But, hell, he was being a little bitch about this. So why not see a little bit of fun?

Sam scrunched up his nose and sank onto the opposite end of the couch, looking down the bridge of it to the very tip; i.e., the most miserably tickly. The younger Winchester cursed himself for allowing himself to be so damn weak, so suseptible to a lousy cold, a cold that just made him feel worse and worse by the minute...

“Here we go, boys,” came Mrs. Laufey's soothing voice as she came back into the living room, and just the careful bell of it nearly put Sam to sleep. What he would have done to just gone back to the hotel and crawled into bed, slept the day away...That sounded perfect...Sipping chicken soup, the soup that...

The soup that Jessica used to make for him when he'd get to feeling like this...Ah, God, he remembered how she used to bundle him up in blankets, no matter how much he protested...cuddle up with him in bed...and sure, at first, Sam would protest, say he wouldn't want to get her sick, but her soothing voice and loving embrace would soon just consume him and----

Sam felt a sudden lump in his throat and swallowed it hard. Shit. Now was not the time to think about this. It was probably the crappy cold that was making him so damn...suseptible to emotion right now.

“So, what was it you wanted to know?” asked the historian, adjusting her glasses and sitting across from them in an armchair. “And what paper did you say this is for?”

Dean smiled to her, taking a sip of the coffee. “Ah, the La Junta Tribune Democrat.”

“La Junta's so far east though! What ever could you want with a story about Paradox...?”

Sam leaned forward, pushing thoughts of Jessica from his mind. “Heh, well, to tell you the truth, the town's not near as exciting as it used to be, so we've been going all around Colorado for interesting stories to keep people reading. Now...” he looked to his notepad with a light sniffle. “Um, do you think there's any truth behind all the claims of people seeing a young girl at accidents recently?”

Mrs. Laufey chuckled, looking into her cup of coffee. “Well, boys, you know, back when I was a little girl, the same thing happened for a solid month or two before everything just stopped. I personally have never seen the girl---oh, she's said to be the ghost of Anabelle Paradox, you know. She was the founder's daughter, way back in 1885, and every fifty years or so, she'll show up and...”

Sam soon found himself fading out of the conversation. He knew it was unprofessional, and they needed all these details, but...God, it was becoming such a struggle to even keep his eyes open, much less concentrate. He glanced to Dean, seeing his brother taking down excellent notes, and swallowed, feeling his throat begin to hurt. Had it been hurting all this time? He hadn't noticed, more than likely from being too preoccupied with keeping his unruly nose under control.

Ugh, speaking of his nose...

Sam wrinkled the bridge of his nose and sniffed, rubbing beneath the pink appendage and trying to seem as though he were still paying attention. But the tickle just seemed to grow and grow. His lashes began to flicker, nostrils twitching dangerously as he fought to seem completely unfazed.

“Ngh..” he murmured absently, fighting not to scrub at his furiously tickling and runny nose. He sniffed repeatedly, hoping this would ease the tickle, but it only made it worse.

“E-Excuse me, ma'am,” he interrupted suddenly, blushing deeply at both Mrs. Laufey and Dean turning to look at him. “M-May I use your bathroom? S-Sorry...”

Mrs. Laufey chuckled at his nervousness and nodded. “Sure thing, dear. Down the hall and the last door on your right.”

“Thank you...” murmurred Sam, standing and going for the bathroom, trying not to show just how big of a rush he was in. Once reaching the bathroom, he stepped in and locked the door behind him, the bright aritificial light making him wince, as well as just how painfully frilly and pink everything in the restroom was. He sat down on the fluffy toilet seat cover and took a wad of tissue from the roll, burying his nose in it and blowing. The blow stirred a furious tickle, and Sam tried desperately to pinch his nose shut to stifle a fit of sneezes. “Ikkshh! Hihhkshh! Ihhkshh! Ixxsh! Hih—ihh—iHHihhxshh!!”

The sneezes continuted, and Dean and Mrs. Laufey could hear them clearly from down the hallway. The old woman chuckled lightly and cocked her head to Dean. “That partner of yours have a cold?”

Dean looked back to her and laughed with a light shrug, unable to keep himself from feeling bad for Sam, who he knew must have just been miserable. “Ah, he insists he doesn't, but....Heh, I've known him for ages, I know when something's up with him...”

Mrs. Laufey nodded with a light smile, stirring some cream into her coffee. “Well, it's a good thing he's got a sweetie like you as a friend. Look after him after this, alright? Poor baby ought to rest.”

Dean sighed, the smile gone from his face, and glanced back to the hallway, hearing Sam's fit easing up. “Y-...Yeah, he should...” He cleared his throat and shifted back to smile at Mrs. Laufey. “Heh, now, you were talking about the messages left by the supposed ghost...?”

Back in the bathroom, Sam gave one final sneeze into the wad of toilet tissue and sighed shakily, praying for the fit to be over. Once the tickle didn't seem to be returning, he tossed the paper into the waste basket and got more, nose sore and raw as he gave it a blow. He sniffled and stood, looking to himself in the mirror, greeted with dark circled beneath his eyes, a cherry red nose and hair messier than usual. He took a deep breath and ordered himself to get a grip before forcing a smile and stepping out, straightening his tie and heading back for the living room. “Sorry about that! Now, where were we...?”

Dean looked back to Mrs. Laufey. “Hey, sorry, Ryan, we already finished up here.” He shook the old woman's hand and smiled politely. “Thank you so much for your time, ma'am, we really do appreciate it.”

“Oh, sure thing, boys. Send me a copy of the article when it's published in your paper, alright?”

“We sure will,” said Sam with a nod, all too eager to get out of there. “Thank you for your time.”

“Thank you boys,” she said, opening the front door for them. “And you take care of that cold, alright, dear?”

Sam blushed a deep red and could have sworn he heard Dean bite back a snicker. “I-...I will, ma'am,” he told her half-heartedly, stepping onto her stoop without so much as a goodbye, feeling irritable and weak up at this point, the pressure in his sinuses only making things worse.

The walk back to the motel was quite, save for Sam's sniffling, and soon his shivering became evident as well. Dean scolded himself for letting his need for Sam to confess to his sickness allow him to take something as vital as a jacket...Sam's warmth was more important than Dean winning. Even if he hadn't exactly won yet. Wait. Sam didn't deny it when Mrs. Laufey called him out on his cold. Did that mean he was admitting it...?

“How you feelin', Sammy?” asked Dean, looking up at the sky to see dark, angry clouds overhead. It was going to rain. Hell, it could pour any second now. He quickened his steps, the motel nearly a block and a half away.

“Fine,” murmured Sam, giving his nose a rub. And he stuck with this. He said nothing else, and Dean could tell he was irritated. But, Sam was a little bitch, he was already irritated...

So why did Dean feel so damn bad?

[VividBubbles!]

Awwww!

Oh Dean, you naughty naughty thing you.

[27jj]

GAHHHHHH SAMMY BB

SO SNEEZY

SO STUBBORN

SO BEAUTIFUL

[lovelylovexoxo]

Perfection <3

[42686]

awww! so adorable!

[SexualOddity]

Awwww I love this! Sam, just get over yourself (but also don't because you're extra hot when you're stubborn). I still love all the denial, and that was a really cute moment with the old lady historian being all caretakingy and Sam not really being able to deny it. LOVE.

[Zwee]

How could you ever feel bad for giving us such a good chapter?? Aww, sick Sammy in the rain with no jacket?? YES PLEASE. And naughty Dean who is guilty, but not enough to let up!! And Sam trying to stifle SO many sneezes, and still being totally audible! And the cute historian lady being worried and making Dean realize that Sammy should really be taken care of! <3!

Sooooo excited for the next part!

Thank you!

Good luck with school! :/