Oregon

[Zwee]

Hello everyone! I know there are LOTS of Supernatural stories out there, but you can never have too many, right?

I know, I'm ever so creative at titles. This story is set somewhere around Season 5, I imagine. There's a tiny bit of talk of the content of Season 4 in Chapter 3, but it's not much of a spoiler. I don't really know how many people are even worried about that. Anyway, have at it! I hope you enjoy!

~Oregon Part 1/3~

Jets of alabaster split the sky, accompanied by the cacophonous growling of thunder. The sky screamed, poured down molten silver from its leaden clouds, drenching the earth beneath.

Sam was shivering. The hole seemed to be getting shallower as he dug, and he set down the shovel a moment, frustrated. The rain really wasn’t helping matters, as the pit was steadily filling with water. Seeing as he now had to stand in it, his feet were sopping, which made him tremble with cold. His nose was running. He wiped at it carelessly with a sleeve, annoyed.

He and Dean had decided to pursue a violent case in Oregon, where a series of deaths had deemed the run down Lancaster Estate as haunted. After days of research, they had finally stumbled upon records of a similar case in Georgia, which led them to believe that the ghost of the Estate was a special one.

Sam felt his pocket buzz, and fished his cell phone out with one hand, answering it with the clearing of his throat.

“Dean, w-w-what’ve you g-got?”

“This damn storm is making it pretty hard, and it’s friggin’ cold, but I think I’ve found what’s tying the spirit to this place.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a weird little doll. I think it might have human hair. Whenever I go near it, the bitch shows up and tries to stick her knife in me.”

“C-c-c-can you b-burn it? I j-j-just got to the coffin, and I think she’s gonna show up any minute now.”

“I’ll try. Don’t we have to burn them at the same time?”

“Yeah, or she c-could get l-landlocked.” Sam shivered violently. The rain had begun to trickle down his back. He sniffled and cleared his throat again. “Okay, s-s-stay on the phone, I’m just c-cracking open the thing now.”

Just as Sam had managed to pop open her coffin, the ghost of Marion Wilder appeared. Her features were twisted in anger, bloodstained clothes hanging off her. Sam could see every cut on her body. Forcing himself to ignore the gruesome wound where her heart should be, Sam grabbed the sides of the pit, pulling himself up, phone still in hand. He began dousing the corpse in gasoline, looking around for any sign of the spirit.

Her voice hissed, right in his ear, the harsh tones of the whisper sending even more chills down his spine. “What do you think you’re doing, Sam Winchester?” He jumped, twisting around to see her inches from his face, holding a rusty, bloodstained knife. “Trying to kill me? I’ll cut your little fingers off if you even try to light a fire. And then, I’ll take this knife and cut your heart out.” Sam grimaced. A spirit this strong scared him. Most ghosts he and Dean dealt with could barely even speak, and could still do devastating damage. He really didn’t want to know what Marion Wilder could do.

“D-don’t think y-you’re quick enough. NOW, Dean!” He managed to say, quickly striking a match and jumping out of the way as the pit went up in flames. A horrible scream pierced his ears, and Marion ran at him, her eyes wild with fury. Inches from plunging the knife into Sam’s heart, she erupted in a fiery blaze and disappeared.

“Sammy! Sammy, you okay?” Dean’s voice came from the phone, concern turning up the volume in his voice, as it usually did.

“Yeah.” Sam said, giving a cough. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Okay. Hey, D-Dean?”

“Huh.”

“Bring a towel.”

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

About ten minutes later, the shine of headlights and the rumble of the Impala’s engine signaled Dean’s arrival. He stopped outside the gates of the giant cemetery, waiting. Sam made his way over to the passenger side, shivering violently.

“Christ. You’re soaked.” Dean said as soon as he saw his brother.

“Y-y-yeah, sorry. I told you to b-bring a t-t-towel.”

“I brought two.” Dean had draped one over his baby’s precious leather seats, and handed one to his brother, who began attempting to dry himself off.

“We’ll be back at our room in no time.” Dean reassured his brother, who was shaking like a leaf. “You look like shit. Jesus, Sammy.”

It was true. Sam’s face was the color of cream, and his whole body was shaking uncontrollably. He was drenched, and his nose was the only thing on his face that seemed to have color. He sniffled and rubbed it, turning it pink which contrasted with his white skin.

“I’ll be okay.” He said, pulling his towel around him, trying to get warmth to his body.

Dean cranked the heat as high as it would go, and shot worried looks his brother’s way throughout the whole car ride.

By the time they got back to their motel, Sam’s lips were a shade of lavender that made Dean’s heartbeat speed up. “Hey, hey. You’re going straight up for a lukewarm bath, you hear me? No hypothermia on my watch, got it?”

Sam nodded, rolling his eyes, which was a little comfort to his older brother.

The youngest Winchester did as he was told, following Dean up to their room. Once he got to the bathroom, he stripped and started the bath, examining a bruise he’d gotten from the spirit slamming into him. It seemed to be fine.

He climbed in, grimacing as the water sent pins and needles up his legs, burning him. This wasn’t good. He managed to sit down, trying not to cry out. He sat in discomfort for a good ten minutes, letting his muscles relax as he grew accustomed to the temperature of the water. Once he felt considerably more comfortable, he drained the tub. What he really wanted now was a hot shower, but he was too tired.

Throwing his wet clothes over the side of the bathtub to drain, Sam gathered the fresh sweatpants and hoodie Dean had delivered a minute ago. He was delighted to feel that they were toasty warm. Dean must have taken them to the Laundromat across the street to heat them up.

He pulled them on, hugging himself so he could feel the warmth directly on his skin. He quickly brushed his teeth, then attempted to towel his hair dry. Once he was finished, he walked out into the main room, scrubbing at his nose, which hadn’t stopped running.

“Hey. How you feeling?” Dean asked, looking up from the bed where he was watching what sounded like Terminator.

Sam cleared his throat. “Uh, better.” His voice was scratchy, and he discovered that talking hurt.

“Good. I picked up dinner.” Dean gestured at half a hamburger and a small package of salad that lay abandoned on the table a few feet away.

“I’ll probably have some later.” Sam muttered, walking over to his bed. The cold was sneaking back up on him now that his clothes had cooled. He twisted the thermostat up a few notches, then grabbed his laptop and climbed under the covers, propping himself up on the headboard.

About twenty minutes later, Dean glanced over and saw that his brother was sleeping, his head resting against the back of the bed.

Dean gave an affectionate smirk, turning off the T.V.

“Hey, Sammy.” He called gently.

“Mm.” Sam stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He wiggled his nose, looking confused for a moment before he raised his cupped hands and sneezed quietly. “Hh-kkshhew! Huh, sorry.”

“Gesundheit. You’re not gonna wanna sleep like that all night.”

Sam almost protested that he wasn’t sleeping, then sighed. “Yeah.” He said with a yawn, and placed his laptop on the ground, giving a sniffle. Then, he wriggled his way under the covers, curling up and reaching to turn off the light. Moments later, he was asleep.

~~~~~*~~~~~

To be continued (obviously)...

[flower]

Oooh! This is good! I love how you are slowly building up to Sam being sick, and how attentive Dean is to him! I'm looking forward to more. Thanks.

[ID2006]

Mmmmnnnnnn.... *whimpers* want more.

[obsessed]

so cute!!

[VividBubbles!]

Adorable! Ugh, Sam was so cute when they first started the show. Then, in Season 3, out of nowhere, BLAM! Just muscles, muscles, muscles. Of course, he's still hot, but where'd my cute little Sammy go?! And, has Jared even seen himself in a mirror lately. Cut your freaking sideburns! Ugh, they annoy me so much! So anyway, really good and continue soon (obviously ).

BYE!

[iluvsneezes]

Aww, there's nothing I love more than sneezy!Sammy. I love this so far. Please post the next part soon!!

[Zwee]

Ah! I love everyone!

@flower: My favorite is a slow build up to sickness. Especially when everyone can see it coming except the sick person, or when the sick person attempts to hide it, but to no avail. Thanks so much for reading!

@ickydog2006: That makes me quite happy! You'll get some more soon...

@obsessed: Well, I try. Thank you!

@Bubbles!: I agree with everything you just said! Whenever I see the 7th season Sam, I just picture a pair of scissors and a razor in my hand, and turn him into Seasons 1 and 2 Sam... It's pretty bad. I guess I'm not very good at writing a later Sam, as this is supposed to be, but who cares? Cute Sam is so much more fun to make sick!

@iluvsneezes: Me either! And Dean too, of course, but Sam will always be my special favorite... No matter how much I like to convince myself I love them equally. I'll try to post the next part tomorrow evening sometime. I'm too lazy and tired tonight. But thank you for reading!

[ichixshiro14]

Awww this is a great start!! Thanks for sharing!

[Zwee]

@ichixsiro14: Thank you so much! Hope you like the next part!

Okay, everyone! Have part number 2, why don't you? It's pretty long... I hope that's a good thing, rather than annoying.

~Oregon Part 2/3~

Morning burst into the motel room window, fragments of sunlight just barely cutting through the thick fog. Then, the sun was eclipsed entirely by the dark clouds that hovered over the world.

Dean woke first, groaning a little at the sound of the steady downpour. So far, the weather in Oregon was proving to be very disappointing.

He glanced over at Sam, relieved to see that his face had color, and there was no blue tinge to his lips. His little brother gave a slight cough and buried his face into his pillow.

He didn’t really want to get up, but he knew he never would if he didn’t do it now. He had been hoping they could skip the town as soon as possible, maybe make their way down to California where they could find some sun, but the weather made him want to just curl back up and sleep for days.

His feet hit the floor and he was disgusted to find the hideous shag carpeting slightly damp, even through his socks. The steady trickle of water leaking in from the windows was revealed to be the source of the problem. Dean sighed in annoyance. This was just what Sam needed to nurse his hypothermia—a freezing rainstorm and a leaky motel room.

He shivered a little, wandered into the kitchen unit where the establishment had been generous enough to provide them with a coffee pot and two questionably clean cups. He began to make a pot, then wandered stiffly over to his brother’s bed, shaking his shoulder lightly.

“Hey, Sammy. Wakey, wakey.”

Sam groaned hoarsely and coughed again.

“You don’t want a bucket of ice water, do you?”

That got him up. Just the thought of cold water splashing down his neck seemed to make him shiver, and he yawned, scrubbing at his face sleepily. Shadows curved beneath his eyes, which were only tiny pools of blue-green beneath his heavy eyelids. He sniffled, yanking the blankets up around him. “What time is it?”

Dean winced. Sam’s voice was wrecked, practically reduced to a rough whisper, though he could tell Sam had wanted it to come out at a normal volume.

“Nine a.m. You okay?” He could feel himself frowning in concern.

Sam nodded sleepily, giving another yawn and another couple of coughs. “M’okay. Just tired. I’ll sound better after a cup of coffee.” This seemed hard to believe, however, since his low, hoarse voice broke in the middle of the word coffee, sending Sam into a fit of coughing.

Dean squinted in suspicion, clapping his brother on the back. He decided to let it be, however, since that was obviously what Sam wanted, and went to get them both some coffee.

“Hehh’kpshht! It’shhhuhuh! Ugh.” The sneezes were quiet but powerful-sounding, and Dean could feel his back tense with worry when he heard Sam give a small whimper afterward.

“You want to stick around here another day, Sam?”

Sam didn’t seem to hear him, he was too preoccupied with burying his pink nose in a tissue he’d found from a box inside a drawer by his bed.

“Sammy?”

“Huh? Iiiitschhh!”

“Bless you. I said, do you want to stay here for a day? I mean, you were a mess last night, and you look like hell this morning…” he trailed off because Sam was holding up a finger, eyebrows scrunched and nose wrinkled. He resembled a confused puppy. Dean snorted, amused at this familiar face. He listened to Sam’s breath hitch desperately for a minute.

“Huhh… Ehhh… Hh, ugh, Hh-hh! Uhhhh…”

“Just sneeze, already.”

“I’m tryhhhing, Dean. Hhh’kktschh’ew! Huh’esscchhh! Huptschoo!”

“Gesundheit. Jesus. We should stay here; you sound like you’re coming down with something nasty.”

Sam shook his head emphatically, another tissue pressed to his very irritated nose. “No, I want to get out of here. I’m fine; the cold is getting to me, that’s all.”

Dean rolled his eyes, taking a gulp of coffee. “Fine. But you’re wearing extra layers. And you have to take some medicine if you get any worse.”

“Dean, I’m fine.” Sam said, beginning to get dressed.

Dean could see the goose bumps on his brother from across the room. “Well, then you don’t have to worry about taking any medicine, do you?”

~~~~~*~~~~~

Sam was sleeping again before Dean had even put the key in the ignition. He grinned affectionately at his brother, reaching over to ruffle his hair before composing himself and pulling onto the road.

The rain’s rich beats filled the car with sound, whisking the silence away and replacing it with comforting white noise.

Dean hummed Metallica, checking on Sam every once in a while to make sure he had been telling the truth about being fine. Dean knew Sam better than he knew himself, so when Sam’s symptoms had raised a red flag in his mind, it took all his effort not to tuck Sam back in and dose him up with every kind of medicine in town. Sam obviously didn’t want to be fussed over, however, and he really did seem fine, so Dean had let it slide. His persistent once-overs only convinced him more, since Sam slept on without a touch of fever or cough.

Two hours later, Sam cracked his eyes open, clearing his throat. His voice didn’t sound much better. It was still the heavy, scraping bass that he’d had that morning. “Hey. Where are we going?”

“I’m just following the highway.”

“Oh.” He said, before taking a sharp breath in. “Hhh! Hh’kssshtscheew!”

“Gesundheit. How you feeling, Sammy?”

“I’m alright.” He shivered, hard.

“Okay, hold on. There’s a blanket in the trunk.” Dean sighed, pulling over and jumping out into the frigid air. Raindrops pelted his body, but he managed to retrieve the blanket quickly and avoid getting soaked by the storm that seemed so intent upon it. “Here.” He tucked it around his brother, who looked at him appreciatively.

“Thanks, Dean.” He curled in tighter, and closed his eyes.

Dean looked mildly worried, but let him sleep.

The next time Dean looked over, it was much later. He’d stopped a few times at various gas stations for food and bathroom breaks, but when he’d asked Sam if he needed anything, he didn’t seem interested, and curled back up to sleep. This much silence was concerning to Dean, so he reached over to wake Sam up. He missed, his hand coming in contact with Sam’s face. Sam’s warm face. No, Sam’s feverish face!

“Aw, Jesus, Sammy.” Dean muttered, pulling the Impala over with a screech.

“Mm.” Sam gave an unintelligible mumble into the blanket and tried to sink lower into its warmth.

Dean frowned, leaned over to his brother’s seat. “Sam! Wake up!”

Sam stirred, turned his head toward Dean. His eyes were alarmingly bright. “Dean?”

“Damn it. You’re burning up. You were fine a minute ago! Why does it always come on so fast?”

“Sorry.” Sam muttered, making as if he was going back to sleep again.

“No, stay with me here.” Dean palmed his brother’s forehead again, trying to gauge the temperature. “I’d say somewhere around 103.4,” he said, mostly to himself. “Damn you. Couldn’t have given me any warning?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was coming!”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Next time there’s a werewolf coming at you… I’ll tell you. But I honestly didn’t see it.” Sam scrubbed at his nose. His cheeks were flushed, and he was shivering again.

“Okay, you do that.” Dean grunted, turning the car back on. He cracked the windows, hoping the cold air would help, and began to search for hotels around. He found one fairly quickly and pulled in. “You wait here, got it? I’m gonna get us a room.”

Sam nodded, his eyes wide. “Be careful! Those lights could have something to do with the spirit.”

Dean didn’t answer. A feverish Sam was never easy to deal with, especially if he was seeing things. He just hoped he could cool the younger one off before he started to really hallucinate.

When he returned with the room key, he found Sam sitting on the ground by his car door, covering his ears with his hands.

“Sam! I told you to wait in the car! How hard is it?”

Sam glanced up, looking guilty. “I forgot! The little boy—“

“Okay, okay. Help me with the bags and you get a popsicle.”

Sam’s eyes lit up and he stood, swaying. He grabbed his bag from the trunk, following his brother woozily up to the room.

“Sit down.” Dean commanded, flopping the bags on the floor and digging the First Aid kit out of one of them. “Here’s your popsicle.” He handed Sam a capful of extra-strength cold medicine.

“That’s not a popsicle, Dean.”

“It tastes like one. Come on, it’s grape.”

Sam glared, but tossed the liquid back, grimacing and coughing. “It does not taste like a popsicle,” he complained.

“Close enough. Take these.” He held out some fever-reducer pills and some water.

“Those give me nightmares.”

“Your fever gives you nightmares. Now take them.” Dean said, face serious.

Sam did as he was told, letting his older brother tuck him in and even allowing him to place a cold, damp towel over his forehead, although he whined about it.

“Deeeaann…”

“Sh. Stop messing with it.”

“I hate it.”

“I know, Sammy. But you want to feel better right?”

Sam replied by turning his face away and sneezing four times into a tissue he’d stashed in his pocket earlier. “Hup’tschoo! Itshhh! Heh’ESschh! Atschhch!”

“Gesundheit.” Dean handed his brother a fresh tissue and moved the cloth back into place. After about ten minutes of the cooling towel and Sam’s teeth chattering, Dean couldn’t take any longer. He tossed the towel into the sink and crawled in with his brother.

“Can I sleep now?”

“Okay.” Dean sighed, settling himself in for a long night.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Thank you all SO much for reading! Hope you liked it!

[flower]

[obsessed]

aw, Sammy is such a cutie!

[VividBubbles!]

This. Just...... this.

BYE!

[BlueRandom]

I really like your spellings! They're so cuuuuuuuute.

And agree about cute-Sam being easier to write than later-seasons-Sam ... although I like him, too.

Either way, this fic is great.

[27jj]

OREGOOOOOOOOOOOOON

I am enjoying this SO MUCH. Mmm, Sam.

[Zwee]

@ flower: you!! Thank you.

@obsessed: He kind of is, yes. Thank you!

@Bubbles!: Wow, thanks! I'm glad you it!

@BlueRandom: That's such a compliment! I really like your spellings! I like later seasons Sam, too. But early Sam is easier, yes. Thanks!

@27jaredjensen: Yes. I appreciate the state of Oregon. I'm so glad you're enjoying it! Thank you!

[Zwee]

Hi, all! How would you like the final installment on this lovely Saturday morning? Well, here you go!

~Oregon part 3/3~

Dean awoke to Sam thrashing beside him. He was whimpering and moaning, his tossing so violent that Dean felt panic shoot through him.

“Sam! Sammy! Hey, hey!” He placed firm hands on his brother’s shoulders, pinning him down. “Sam, wake up! It’s not real.”

The younger Winchester slowly calmed down enough to open his eyes. A tear slipped down his burning cheek and he tried to sit up. Dean removed the pressure and helped his brother, maintaining eye contact the whole time, a technique he’d learned was helpful from years of Sam’s nightmares.

“Hey, hey. You’re fine, alright? You’re fine.”

Sam was shaking. “It’s happening again, Dean.” His voice was quiet, but Dean didn’t miss the fear in it, the raw emotion.

“What is?”

“I’m… g-going through w-w-withdrawal again, aren’t I?” he shook harder than ever at the word ‘withdrawal’; just hearing his fear aloud made him flinch.

“No. You’re not. I promise, Sammy, you’re fine. You’re just sick.”

“Sick like I was then.” Sam said in a hollow voice. “How do I even know you’re real, Dean? Last time…” he shuddered. “Last time you came to me in the panic room. You said stuff… It wasn’t you… But I thought it was. I can’t tell what’s real or not!” Tears were running freely down Sam’s cheeks as he said these words, and he leaned heavily against the bed. A fit of coughing stole his energy and breath, so he sat there, coughing hard, looking pleadingly at Dean.

“Sam, this is real. I promise. Look at me. You see that? It’s real.”

“I got a fever last time, didn’t I?” Sam asked weakly, his face crumpled.

“Yes. But it was off the charts. This is a standard-Sammy fever. It’s high for a normal person, but not even close to as high as it was when you were in withdrawal. I swear to you, this is real.”

Sam looked into his brother’s face, and Dean could see faint recognition in his eyes. He supposed the worry that lined his features was familiar enough to convince his little brother of its reality. Dean began to rub Sam’s back gently.

“Hehshch-uh! Etchshch! Ehhtch-eshh!”

“Bless you.” Dean sighed. He began to relax a little. Then, Sam was sneezing again.

“Ehhh…ehh-hetchsh! Kptch-uh! Hihh-hitchshoo! Heshchsh! Heh-heptchsh! Hihh’itschoo! Ahh’tissshhchsh!” Sam gave a whimper, breathless and worn out.

“Jesus. You okay?” Dean was shocked by just how sick his little brother had gotten.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, I… Uh-huchshoo! Ughh.”

“How does this happen? One second you’re just tired, the next you’re hallucinating with a 104 degree fever.”

Sam could only shiver and shrug.

Dean gave him some more fever-reducer pills and retrieved the wet cloth from the sink, refreshing it and replacing it on his brother’s forehead. Sam shivered harder, but didn’t protest.

After he’d successfully cooled his brother down to a manageable level, Dean realized he had to force his eyes to stay open. He collapsed onto the bed, heavy eyelids shutting immediately. In only moments, both brothers were fast asleep.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Sam’s fever was up again in a matter of hours, but this time, all Sam could do was sneeze and murmur apologies and half-sane things like, “Dean! There’s a man standing upside down in the bathtub! Where’s your gun?” and “Why can’t we ever think of original last names?” and “Have you ever noticed you’re shorter than me?” This last one he mentioned repeatedly, and each time he asked, it didn’t fail to make his dimples surface.

“Okay, buddy. Take it easy.” Dean said, passing him tissues and monitoring his temperature.

Sam suddenly swung his legs out of the bed and was halfway across the motel room before Dean had even looked up.

“Hey! Sammy, what are you doing?”

Sam paused a moment, leaning against the wall for stability as his vision went in and out of focus. He took a shuddering breath and attempted to stifle three sneezes into his wrist. “Atschxxt! Hht-kschhoo! Huh’etgxxt! Dean, get the salt. There’s sulfur, I can smell it. It’s a demon!”

“You can’t smell anything.” Dean growled. “You haven’t been able to breathe out of your nose completely for days now. Lay back down, there’s nothing there.”

“No, Dean, please. Check outside?”

“Fine.” The elder brother threw open the door, blasting them both with the frigid air. Sam began to shiver. “See? Nothing there.”

Sam’s face scrunched in confusion. He sneezed again, trying not to whimper as it made his head spin and pound. “Huptschoo! Huh’isschh!”

“Bless you.” Dean led his younger brother back to bed, tucked him in, and made him take some more medicine. After he’d finished, he crawled in with him. The fever was probably too far gone for cooling to help, he supposed, so he’d decided to try to burn it out. Eventually, the fever would have to break, but he sure as hell hoped Sam wouldn’t get any worse than he already was.

A cough tore its way out of Sam’s lungs, a horrible, aching sound. Sam winced, sliding further under the covers. He sniffled, burying his nose in his sleeve once more. “Atshchoo! Huh-tchesshh!”

Dean settled down, turned on the television but muted the sound so Sam could sleep. And Sam did exactly that, remaining asleep, albeit restlessly, until morning faded the inky sky to a shade of pale gray.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Dean had dozed off too, so when Sam began coughing harshly about an hour after dawn, his older brother awoke with a start, immediately slamming him on the back a few times.

“Thanks.” Sam said hoarsely, sniffling.

“How you feel, Sammy?” Dean had gotten up to make some coffee for himself, and possibly Sam if he was feeling up to it.

“I think I’m doing okay. Better than last night, at least.” Sam rubbed his head, half embarrassed and half out of pain.

“Yeah, you had a fever of like 104 at least.”

Sam shook his head, rubbing at his nose. “Dean—“

“No.”

Sam paused, confused. “What?”

“You always apologize after you get sick. I don’t wanna hear it. It’s not your fault, and I don’t care. I’ve looked after your sorry ass since you were a baby. Taking care of you isn’t a chore, so if you apologize, I’ll friggin’ kick you.”

Sam was staring at him, eyebrows raised. After several beats of surprised and intimidated silence, he sighed. “Okay. But, I am—“

“Sam. What did I just say?”

“Fine, fine!” Sam suppressed a grin, before he was sneezing into the crook of his arm, breathlessly. “Hetshuhshuh! Heh’EHshhchsh! Huptschoo! Eshhch-ew!”

“Bless you.” Dean threw a tissue box at his brother from across the room.

Sam sat up suddenly, something occurring to him. “Dean, what if you catch this from me? You were right next to me practically all night. Then can I apologize?”

Dean grinned. “Sam, I’m not gonna get this from you. First of all, I’m stronger than you all. Second, you got this from me. Don’t you remember? I was sick last week. Less sick than you are, but that’s always how it goes. Only pansies get sick from being out in the rain, Sam. And, however girly you are, you’re not a complete pansy.”

Sam raised his eyebrows again. “I’m not? This is news to me.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Dean tossed him the cold syrup. “Drink some more of that, too. You want to get out of Oregon?”

Sam considered, then shook his head. “Not yet. I kind of like it here.” He smiled a little. “The pouring rain has its own charm.” After a moment, he spoke again. “Hey, Dean?”

“What?”

“Thanks.”

“Any time, Sammy.”

~~THE END~~

I feel like I always end my stories with a thank you. But it was either this, or some cheesy “happily ever after” line, so be glad it was this. Hope everyone liked it, and thank you for reading!

[VividBubbles!]

This was really cute! And yes Sam, rain does have a certain type of charm, doesn't it? Really great Zwee! BYE!

[obsessed]

Fantastic!

[27jj]

@27jaredjensen: Yes. I appreciate the state of Oregon. I'm so glad you're enjoying it! Thank you!

Heeee, I got so excited about this being set in Oregon. Maybe a little too excited?

Anyway, I really enjoyed this story. The section in part three with Sam's little sneezing fits and him being breathless afterward was super hot. Well done!

[Akahana]

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! <333333

[Zwee]

@Bubbles!: I actually like the rain! Just perhaps not standing directly in it... Thank you ever so much!

@obsessed: Wow, thank you!

@27jaredjensen: Hee, it's okay, probably nowhere near as excited as I get when an actual episode is set in Oregon! Ahh, thanks!

@Akahana: I'm glad you think so!

[Salamander]

Argh I really enjoyed this. I don't even watch Supernatural, but I read the fics because I know Spn fans turn out THE BEST hurt/comfort fic, and I wasn't disappointed. All the shivering, hallucinating and cold cloths made my inner fever whore intensely happy.

[Zwee]

@Salamander: See, that's what I thought! All these really good hurt/comfort fics and a little help from my fan-neighbor got me hooked on the show for good. I'm so happy your fever whore was satisfied and that you liked it! Thank you!