More than just asprin and tomato rice soup

[SexualOddity]

Fancied something more plotty, so here's a multi-chapter for a change. Sorry, there'll be a bit of a wait for sneezing, but hey, have some hurtSam and hurtDean in the meantime.

Oddity x

--

“So... you gonna let me in on what you found?”

Sam blinks at the laptop screen for a good twenty seconds before he even seems to register that Dean has spoken.

“Huh?”

Dean’s been watching Sam since he sat up suddenly from flicking lazily through the paper and hobbled across the room to get the laptop. Ever since then it’s been all frowning at the screen and unconscious little thinking noises.

“What you got?”

“Oh... uh... maybe nothin’”

Dean grins. “You’ve got your whole research-trance thing going on.”

Truth be told, Dean could have stood to have taken a couple more days slumming out in the hotel room, he’s feeling beyond crappy after a day of being smacked in the face by a concrete path and subsequently alternating between throwing up and insisting to Sammy that he didn’t need to get checked out at a hospital. He’s just about back to seeing a reassuringly normal number of fingers (even with blood rushing from his head, he could tell that there was something wrong with the sixes and eights of yesterday) but Goddamn it hurts to move.

He gulps down another couple pills, and tries to sound enthusiastic, because Sam has spent the bulk of the day sighing and shuffling and flicking through the papers, and Dean has a feeling that Sam needs this more than he needs bed and an ice pack.

At last, sufficiently, back in the room to register what Dean is saying, Sam looks across at him “You gonna be up to a hunt?”

“Are you?”

Sam nods. “I’m sick of this room.”

Dean murmurs agreement but he massages his forehead. “What you got Sammy?”

“You ever heard of a supernatural epidemic?”

“Like Croatoan?"

Sam shakes his head. “Normal illnesses"

He limps across to the bed and hands Dean a paper. It’s a little corner article about a handful of local deaths.

“So what’s supernatural about it?”

Sam shuffles onto the bed next to Dean, laptop on his knees, and flicks through the information he’s drawn up on the deceased. “These are all previously healthy people, who caught what ought to have been straightforward bugs. These two were originally diagnosed with flu, this one with some sort of stomach virus. By the time they died they were showing symptoms of a whole ton of different things, like their immunity’s just totally crashed. And this is three healthy people in the same state, in the same year.”

“So there’s crap in the water, or in the air, or kids aren’t getting enough exercise these days.”

“Maybe,” Sam concedes, “but it’s not like I’ve anything better to do. Thought I could make a few phone calls, dig a little.” He scratches at the back of his neck. “I won’t though, if you need you to crash out a little longer.”

Dean looks across at his brother, he’s been twisting up the bedsheets between his fingers. He eases back against the pillow, an arm across his eyes.

“Knock yourself out Sammy.”

[VividBubbles!]

This sounds interesting. Very interesting. I'd love to read more!

BYE!

[Zwee]

UM YES I'M SO EXCITED I NEED MORE SICK SAMMY IN MY LIFE. Can't wait for the next part! <3 Thank you.

[ID2006]

YAY!!!! I sense more winchester fluff

[sneezychick93]

awesome so far!! can't wait for more!

[27jj]

*WAITS*

[SexualOddity]

Haha... yeah, I kinda got a little sidetracked with all the LJ prompting. Thank you for calling me out! I will get back to this, I promise.

[SexualOddity]

The next day, Sam’s walking a little easier. Dean’s still not entirely convinced by the stuff that Sam spent the past night digging up, but with a couple of asprin inside him he’ll be well enough to drive. Plus, bitter experience has taught him that hunting is quite considerably less headache-inducing than twenty-four hours in close quarters with a restless Sammy. The place is only a couple of towns over and it makes sense to at least check it out, even if they’re just dropping in on their way out of town.

Dean’s tired though, and not too sure that he wants to waste too much time on this, so in the name of speed he drops off Sammy out of town to check out the first victim, while he heads into the City to look into the second and third.

Victim number two started off with a fairly run of the mill stomach virus, or so it seemed from speaking to her doctor, the only weird thing was that within a day or two the thing had floored her, and once it had gotten bad, it seemed like she was picking up every bug that was going. Ultimately, it was a combination of a bunch of things that finally finished her off. The doctors likened it to HIV, but it struck far too quickly, and there wasn’t a hint of anything in the blood work to support that thesis. Medical Science had concluded some kind of natural weakness to the strain of bug that she’d picked up.

It is enough to be interesting, enough to warrant digging around in the Impala for a CDC ID Badge and making a trip to see the local senator. Dean calls Sam before he makes an appointment, to see if he wants to tag along, but Sam has apparently got stuff to look into where he is so Dean makes the trip on his own.

--

“I guess,” Dean grumbles, between mouthfuls of bacon sandwich, “the biggest thing is that we still don’t have a motive.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Or any plausible suspects.”

“I know.”

“Or even a link between the victims.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Sam rakes a fork across his salad. “I just… I have a feeling, that’s enough for us to stick around for the rest of the day, right?”

Dean nods and murmurs. The thing is, it probably would be, but Sam is still messed up as hell over Maddison, and Dean would rather he be distracted by an actual hunt than by pacing around trying to draw out something out of nothing. It’s tough to deny him when he’s like this though, and Dean can’t deny that things around here aren’t a little weird. He just wishes he had a decent lead, instead of shuffling through all of this crap waiting for stupid little specs of a clue. All this panning for information on what might well conclude to be a bust isn’t doing Sam any favours, and it certainly isn’t doing much to ease Dean’s headache.

It is worth another half a day though, and not just ‘cos it’s fucking hard to say no to Sam.

“How’s your leg kiddo?”

Sam shrugs. “Getting there. Too slowly. Your head?”

“Mmm ‘bout the same.”

Sam snatches the napkin up of the table and turns away.

“HuhhhKUSHHyew! T’USHHHyew! HUHTchShyew!”

“Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Sam mumbles.

“What d’you wanna check out next then Sam?

[ID2006]

Nooooooooo ...... cliffie

[Prongs]

LIKING THIS. Can't wait for the next bit!

[VividBubbles!]

More please.... Um, so yeah. I'll just wait here then.

BYE!

[Zwee]

Ahh, it's second season! CUTE. And I love hurt Sammy, too!

Can I just say for like the billionth time in the history of Zwee comments: that I LOVE YOUR SPELLNGS. They sound so so much like Sam in my head, and it's amazing.

Also, poor Dean! I love that they're both kind of keeping an eye on each other, like, "How's your head?" "How's your leg?" and they're cute and I like this story and I'm excited.

[SexualOddity]

When a fourth victim is taken into hospital, they decide it’s worth booking out a hotel room. Sam doesn’t even take off his jacket before ducking into the bathroom for a roll of toilet paper.

“You feeling okay today Sammy?”

Kid hasn’t stopped sniffling since they met up at lunchtime.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just itchy.” Sam blows his nose. “Maybe the pollen around here or something.”

“There’s a drugstore round the corner. Want me to pick up some antihistamines?”

Sam waves away the offer and digs in his rucksack. “I’m fine. Kinda wanna get started with this.”

Dean sighs and settles himself on to the bed. “Okay, what’s first?”

Sam rubs at his forehead and frowns at his notebook as he flips through the pages. “It’s bugging me that I’m still not seeing a connection.”

“I don’t think there is one. Not one of them knew one another, different ages, different jobs, different neighbourhoods. Are we sure it’s not just some bug that gets at your immune system?”

“Well, how did they meet up to contract it?” Sam rubs at his nose with the backs of his fingers. “Plus, you heard the doctors: T-cells were low, but they couldn’t find anything else in the blood samples apart from the normal, run of the mill illnesses they died from.”

Dean groans and flops back on the bed. “I don’t know Sammy.”

He can hear Sam blowing his nose again.

“You tired?”

“Mmm… yeah.” Dean haunches himself up on his elbows. “This job is bugging me. Just give me something I can hunt, you know?”

“You look pale; you due some more asprin?”

“Uh…” Dean checks his watch. “Yeah.”

Dean sinks back against the mattress as Sam shuffles around, pours some water.

“Here, take these and sleep.” Sam’s fussing with his nose again as soon as he passes the glass across to Dean. “UhhUHtSHuuh!” He sniffs. “I think we’re pretty much at a dead end for tonight.

“You sleeping too?” Dean mumbles.

“Soon. I –uh-HuhhUHMPTshuhh! UHhtSHhyew!” He heads for the toilet paper where he’d left it on the carpet. “Fuck allergies.” Sam blows his nose for a third time and opens up his laptop. “I’m gonna try to get us some sort of lead to follow tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Dean shuffles himself under the blanket. “Don’t work too late.”

**

When Dean wakes, Sam is slumped out at a desk, a collection of crumpled up sheets of toilet spread around him. He stirs when Dean calls his name, blinks as he takes in the room. And then he starts coughing.

“Ah crap, Sammy.”

It’s not a pleasant sound, deep and irritated and rattling in Sam’s chest. Dean fills up a glass of water for him.

“Guess it wasn’t allergies last night, huh buddy?”

Sam tears a couple of sheets of toilet paper from the roll and blows his nose. That’s different from last night as well, snotty and gurgling and gross. He lets the bundle of tissue paper drop from his hand on to the desk, takes a swig of the water and then collapses back on to his arms. Dean pulls up a chair opposite him.

“Don’t get sick on this job dude,” he appeals. “Of all the jobs…You’re gonna give me an aneurysm.”

Sam gives a stuffy laugh, and pulls another few sheets from the toilet roll. This time he just crunches them up against his face and sniffles. His eyes are bleary and bloodshot when he looks up at Dean.

“S’jusdt a coldd. I thindk… Idt’s beend a lodt lately, you kndow.”

It’s been over a week, and this the first time either of them have mentioned it, silence hangs in the air for a moment as Dean struggles for the right thing to say, but it’s broken just as quick when Sam jerks away from him, clutching at the toilet tissue.

“HuhHUH’ISHHHhh! HUH’ISHHHH! Huh’Ah’ISsshhhUHhh!”

“Come on,” Dean claps him on the shoulder, “Shake a leg. We gotta make a breakfast run anyway, let’s get you some meds.”

[42686]

When Dean wakes, Sam is slumped out at a desk, a collection of crumpled up sheets of toilet spread around him. He stirs when Dean calls his name, blinks as he takes in the room. And then he starts coughing.

“Ah crap, Sammy.”

It’s not a pleasant sound, deep and irritated and rattling in Sam’s chest. Dean fills up a glass of water for him.

“Guess it wasn’t allergies last night, huh buddy?”

Sam tears a couple of sheets of toilet paper from the roll and blows his nose. That’s different from last night as well, snotty and gurgling and gross. He lets the bundle of tissue paper drop from his hand on to the desk, takes a swig of the water and then collapses back on to his arms. Dean pulls up a chair opposite him.

this is awesome!!!

[VividBubbles!]

Deliciousness. I can't think of anything to say to measure up to this amount of Sammy yumminess, but this was awesome and more please and thanks! Love this!

BYE!

[obsessed]

Wonderful!

[ID2006]

Happy Day. Mucho supernatural fluff.

[Zwee]

Wow. One of my favorite things ever is mistaking a cold for allergies, or vice versa! It's so adorable... I'm so excited for this to escalate! It's so good! Thank you!

[sneezychick93]

Awwwe poor sick Sammy! And Dean's all concerned! I love it!! Can't wait for more!

[SexualOddity]

Sam insists that he doesn’t want breakfast and when Dean orders it for him anyway he barely manages a convincing prod at it. He does drink his coffee though, and somewhere between that and the medication starting to take effect, by nine Sam is just about lucid enough to start talking him through the research from the previous night.

“Jesus. You haven’t lost it then?”

Sam laughs stuffily, “Idt has beend a little while.” He sniffs and brings his wrist up under his nose. “HhhNkkKSHYEW! MmnNppTtISHhhYew!”

It’s an impressive haul: Victim 3’s work and personal email accounts, confidential student files from the school that Victim 4 worked at, with that and the accounts that Dean lifted from Victim 2’s shop the day before, they have a fair amount to go on. Dean had wondered whether they’d struggle. They’d been spoilt lately with people falling over themselves to give them information. This wasn’t a plausible FBI case, though, and as CDC officers they didn’t have a lot of remit for detaining information. Apparently, he needn’t have worried.

“God Sam,” Dean whistles as he flicks through pages and pages of hacked files. “How late were you up last night?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Late. Wandted to keebp goindg undtil I found sombethindg. Spendt bmost of the dnight rundding reports.”

“Nothing?”

Sam shakes his head and coughs. He sounds fucking awful. Dean presses a hand against his forehead and sighs.

“Warm already, kiddo. Maybe you need a day to beat this.”

Sam shakes his head instantly. “I cand’t stday here. Idt’ll drive bme dnudts.”

Dean doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t argue ether. He pulls the laptop closer and starts flicking through Sam’s saved screenshots.

“What you got on Victim 1?”

“Urgh. Dnothindg really. Gave ubp ond her. She… uh…” Sam crinkles his nose and pulls another Kleenex from the box. “HurhhHaHAHTCHyuh! HuhISHHhhUH!”

Dean lays a hand on his back. “Bless you.”

“Thandks,” he sniffs, “Ugh God.” He tosses his Kleenex in the direction of the trashcan and pulls another from the box. “She’s beend away adt colledge for the pasdt three years. I godt indto her embail accoundt budt she doesnd’t evend seemb to be ind contacdt with andyone local.” He settles back in his chair and blows his nose ineffectually. “You thindk Bobby would have called if he’d have found andythindg?

“I’ll ring and check.” Dean sets a hand on his Sam’s shoulder and hunches over the table with him until Sam looks up to meets his eye. “Listen to me. I want you to take a shower, run the steam ‘til your head clears a little, okay?

Sam nods. It’s slow and tired.

Dean almost asks again whether Sam really wants to be out digging for information today, but he already knows the answer, so sets the hot water running for Sam and punches Bobby’s number into his phone.

[ID2006]

Oh sweet hotness melts

[27jj]

I love where this is going. It is RIDICULOUS how much I love where this is going.

[VividBubbles!]

I love where this is going. It is RIDICULOUS how much I love where this is going.

Yes. Oh my gosh, yes. This. More. Definintely more. Please. *explodes*

bye.

[42686]

melting O_O this is brilliant.

[SexualOddity]

Sam does shower, and he does sound better for it, but he can’t stop sneezing after and his nose runs like a tap.

“God. Bless you!” Dean offers after a particularly impressive fit. “C’mon, hurry up and we’ll get you some tissue.” Sam’s used up the last of the toilet paper and he’s already sneezing into T shirts.

“HA’N’EeKhh! CHH’Shhh’hhYEW! Oh mby Godd.”

“I’m sorry Sammy.

“Dnnah. It’s okay. It feels better. With my head clear. “Huhhh… Uhhh… HuhhhhASHSHYEW! Ugh, bmy God. Jesus.”

Dressing is something of a process. Sam has clothes laid out on the bed, along with his makeshift handkerchiefs, but he can only just about manage to dress one arm, or half a leg, before he’s groping blindly for one of the T-shirts and driving sneeze after miserable sneeze into them, clothes hanging off him at ridiculous angles. Dean almost offers to run down to the pharmacy and bring supplies back so that Sam doesn’t have to wait, but he's gotta be light-headed from all the fits and Dean worries that, left to his own devices he’ll pick up the wrong T-shirt and stumble out wearing snot-top.

By the time they make it outside Sam seems to have settled down a bit. Dean still picks up three boxes of Kleenex anyway, plus just about every other cold medicine he can think of it two versions: one milder, non-drowsy one that Sam can take now, and one industrial-strength, knock-you-out version that he intends to dose him up with once they're finished for the night.

When Dean hands him the pharmacy bag, Sam spends a good fifteen minutes and a not insignificant proportion of the tissues on blowing his nose. Then he makes his way through the various drugs that Dean picked up, Kleenex pressed to his face as, alarmingly, his nose continues to run.

It actually worries Dean a little how compliant Sam is. Generally Sam’s not a big fan of taking medicine when he’s sick, preferring just to crash for a day or two and try to sleep it off. When he does medicate usually it’s only for an active combat mission, and it’s the minimum he needs to keep his head together and keep the pair of them alive. It’s unsettling to see him working his way through bottles and boxes without complaint, but then, Dean reminds himself, Sam has other reasons to keep going this time and it’s probably more sensible not to poke at that particular anthill and be grateful that Sam’s at least taking care of himself.

At last, Sam sniffles and rubs at his nose and asks for an update on what Dean learnt from Bobby.

“It’s not a lot. Couple of names that he knows from Victim 2’s store accounts. Apparently they’re traders of genuine hoodoo stuff, but he doesn’t think they’d be into anything powerful enough to set off something like this. He’s gonna look into them.”

Sam sighs. “Mbaybe you should come down to Cara’s house – first victim – talk to the parendts. See if you can spot something I missed.”

“You got it kiddo.”

Dean doesn’t miss Sam’s shivering or the way he bundles his jacket around him as Dean starts up the car. He’s beginning to wonder if he should have picked up a thermometer.