Changes + Sequel [Supernatural, M, 14 + 3 parts.]

[Skyler]

I love this! Continue, I implore!

[Always-a-Ginger]

This is so well written. Interesting plot. Great character interactions. Love love love it!

[BlueRandom]

@Sen Beret: Yes, yes it is! Yay for snarky Bobby.

@Zwee: Haha, don't cry!

@ickydog2006: Continuing now!

@SkylerSneeze: Thanks

@Always-a-Ginger: Aww, thank you. I think the character interactions are one of the best parts of the show.

Part Seven

** Several years before. **

“Huh'ESCHhew!”

“Wow. Gesundheit.”

“Uh. Thanks.” Sam Winchester was fairly sure that if he sneezed one more time, his brain would evaporate. It had been going on more or less all day: at first with enough warning for him to shut himself in the bathroom away from Dean, or at least stifle them between pinched fingers, but this time he'd been taken by surprise. He flushed, embarrassed, and turned towards the window of the Impala to snuffle awkwardly into his elbow.

Dean didn't seem to have noticed, driving the car on autopilot with his attention somewhere else.

“You're gonna miss them, huh?” Sam observed, watching Dean's deliberately blank expression as they pulled away from the town. “The kid. His mom.”

“Don't know what you're talking about, Sam.”

“You can't blame yourself for her father –”

“Can you lay off the emotional crap and get on with looking up some directions?” He snatched up a map from the glove compartment and tossed it onto Sam's lap, eyes still fixed on the road.

Sam wriggled his nose, glancing upwards instinctively to try and alleviate the itch that had started up. “Huhh … ehhh … huh'IHSHoo!”

“Bless you already.”

It was cute: the way Sam would squirm in the passenger seat, trying to twist his body as far from Dean as he could. Dean wasn't sure how his brother thought this would make it less glaringly obvious, but Sam had always been funny about things like that.

“Huhr'KTSChhew!”

“You done?”

“Yeah.” A beat of silence. “No, hang on … hn'CHShhuh!” He rocked forwards, clenching his teeth to hold back the sneeze.

“Bless you. So, directions.”

“You haven't said where we're going.”

“Indiana. I found us our next case.” Dean flexed his fingers casually on the steering wheel. “Looks like our kind of thing. Definitely a spirit, probably vengeful: hits all the boxes, at least. The article's on the back seat if you want to check it out.”

“When did you do all this?”

“Earlier on, when you were busy primping in the bathroom.”

Sam chewed the inside of his cheek, annoyed, but didn't bother to answer him back. His head hurt, and the background pulse of the car stereo wasn't helping. He skimmed over the map, but as they were still in Wisconsin there was very little directing to be done. Instead, he reached into the back and picked up the paper Dean had mentioned, flipping through the pages to find the article in question. “So we show up at the town, interview this Horrocks guy, and find out where the spirit's bones were buried?”

“And crispy the sucker. Right.” Dean reached down the side of the seat, extracting a bag of M&Ms. “Want some?”

“Please tell me you haven't had those since we were hunting the Wendigo.”

“What do you take me for?” Dean's mouth was full, and his speech came out somewhat unclear. He tossed the bag to Sam, who caught it with a look of disdain and stuffed it back under the seat of the car.

“Huh … ihhh ...” His nostrils quivered, and his body tensed. “Hehh'KSHh-uh!”

“Not that again. I'm starting to think you're allergic to Baby.”

Sam ignored him, scratching the side of his nose as he watched the fields rushing past.

“'Cos if I have to choose between you and the car, you know you'll be out in the cold, right?” Dean patted the smooth wood of the dashboard affectionately.

“Uh'ihh … hihh ...” Sam blinked urgently for a few seconds, then relaxed slightly.

Dean smiled to himself, amused as usual by his brother's uptight behaviour. They drove for the next two hundred miles barely exchanging a word; Sam drifting off to sleep once or twice, but shaking himself awake when the nightmare kicked in. The town in Indiana proved fairly easy to locate, and Dean checked them in to the first motel they came to with the practiced ease of a person more used to giving a fake name than his own.

“Here's your key, Mr Warren.” The pretty red-haired receptionist handed it to Dean, watching him hopefully.

“I'll be upstairs,” intoned Sam, pointedly. Dean ignored him, his face breaking into a confident smile as he considered the receptionist. Resigned, Sam plucked the key from his hand and started down the stretch of corridor in search of their room number.

The motel room was more floral than average, but at least the double beds were long enough that Sam's feet wouldn't hang out over the edge. And he wouldn't have to look at the creepy picture of the apple-picking kids when it was dark. He claimed the bed furthest from the door and started to fiddle around with the remote control for the television, acknowledging that Dean could take a while. His nose was bugging him again: he ran a finger under it and coughed lightly, just as Dean entered the room.

“That was fast,” remarked Sam, quirking an eyebrow. “She wasn't going for it, huh?”

“As if.” Dean dropped a scrap of notepaper with a scribbled phone number onto the end of Sam's bed, and sauntered over to dump the duffle bag onto his own. “Well, I'm heading out.”

“Now? We just got here.”

“Apparently there are a few bars down the street worth checking out. You coming?”

Two of the places turned out to be shut, but they found a table at the third that was close enough to the bar to keep Dean satisfied, and to the door in case Sam wanted to make a hasty exit. He drank his beer moodily over his laptop, scrolling through articles relating to the town, while Dean gave a detailed explanation of his work as an up and coming film star to a pair of entranced sisters. Sam restrained himself from butting in several times, grudgingly impressed by Dean's unfailing nerve. His ability to spout crap for an extended length of time was holding up, too, based on the clock ticking away the hours with a dispiriting lack of pace. He took another mouthful of beer, then swallowed it hurriedly as he buried his nose in the crook of his arm. “Huh'ih … uhh'KXHht!”

“Oh.” One of the girls turned to him for the first time. “Bless you.”

“Th – thanks … heh'NnCHhuh!” Sam lowered his head, blushing, and looked imploringly at his brother.

“Okay!” Dean clapped him on the back. “We gotta get on our way. Pleasure meeting you, Kate. Natalie.”

“It's Natasha.”

“Right, right.”

* * *

Edited June 12, 2013 by BlueRandom

[Sawyer]

Uhhh oh my god I want to make you a list but I feel like I would be listing off every single part. This entire thing was sooo so perfect, like ohh wow, Dean blessing Sam every time and being so sweet and funny about it, and the part about how Sam had been sneezing all day and how he's sooooo polite and embarrassed about it (oh my god! <3) and his thinking that he's done at that one part and then "No, hang on..." anddd ooh and Sam sleeping in the car a little (poor baby oh my god) and his nose bugging him even at the bar (and Dean being so coy with the ladies, omg I love that) and omg and that girl blessing Sam and him struggling to thank her before the next sneeze hit, and then Dean's "Okay!" and just god it is all so so so in character and hitting me in all of the right spots, and the only reason I'm not going crazy with the caps lock and exclamation points is because I'm so in love that I'm actually past the point of enthusiasm. You are perfect. I'm going to be rereading this literally ALL DAY. Thank you thank you.

Edited April 24, 2013 by Sen Beret

[Zwee]

WHAT JUST HAPPENED. I'M... NOPE. MY MIND IS STUCK IN CAPS LOCK.

No seriously. It's just so good! The characterization is too much wonderfulness. I love that you wrote their interactions a little bit different than earlier on in the story because it's a flashback. It's SO fitting, it completely captures their dynamic in the earlier seasons!

And, uh, god. Sam is SO sneezy. <3 CUTE. Oh my god, the part where he's like "Yep, I'm done, oh no wait hang on--" I died. It was just soooooo cute and hot and cute and hot and...

This entire thing is written like an episode. The characterization is scary-good. I'm thinking to myself... Does she write for the show? Could she give them this as an episode idea? Maybe?

Haha, really, it's just too good.

Now, to reread!!

[Zwee]

ALSO I WOULD LIKE TO EXPRESS MY EXCITEMENT THAT THIS STORY IS TWO SICK SAM STORIES IN ONE!!!! WHAT. NOT REAL.

[Always-a-Ginger]

Still absolutely in love with this. If I smile any wider I might get stuck.

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

It's so amazing? Like holy frig the joy it brings me to read such great creativity and work (:

[ID2006]

So adorable and hot and perfectly captured

[alyssa]

This is so amazing! I love the plot, it's exactly like a real episode and the flashback is perfect Brilliantly written

[sneezysammy345]

UPDATE! That is all.

[Introvertedme]

THIS IS JUST TOO PERFECT!!!! Ahhhhh too cute. Awhhh. CAPS LOCK ENTIRELY JUSTIFIED.

[AngelEyes]

Eeek! I haven't seen this show in forever but am so now going to go out and watch every episode because your characters are so exactly what I remember and make me Melt!!!!! Total hotness!!!

[Armor.]

Loving it!!

[BlueRandom]

Wow, thank you for the comments! Sorry it's been ages.

Part Eight

When Sam awoke the next morning, his throat was on fire and his head felt as though he'd been sleeping under a lead weight. Checking himself in the mirror, he saw his eyes were a little puffy; something he would normally have attributed to his recent lack of sleep, but now just added to his overall feeling of crappiness. Dean was already up, brushing his teeth with unnecessary sound effects in the bathroom next door.

“Ngh'KSHhoo!” Sam scrubbed at his nose with both hands, but only made things worse. “Uhh … uhh'IHSHhew!”

“You look terrible.” Dean reentered into the room, in a t-shirt and boxers and with his toothbrush still in his mouth. “It's past midday: you were pretty out of it for a change.”

“Yeah, I got some sleep … huh'CHSHhh-uh!”

“What, are you coming down with something? You were doing that yesterday, too.”

Sam gave him a no-shit kind of look, coughing into his fist.

“Well, suck it up, man. We don't have time for you to get all baby bear on me.” The radio crackled on as he was talking, signalling eight a.m.; and he let his head bob to the music, slightly off-beat. “Get dressed, we're going to the cemetary.”

“The cemetary?”

“More like three of them. While you were busy being antisocial last night, I was digging up some information from the locals.” Dean picked up a map from the end table, tapping it smugly. “The man whose wife died, Horrocks: his family have been living in that house for generations. Strong sentimental attachment to the place, even though a murder happened there a couple of decades back.”

“That doesn't sound like a very conclusive lead.” Sam picked up his shirt from the back of the chair, buttoning it while he listened.

“Ah, but here's the thing: they say the victim was killed when the owner of the house caught him upstairs with his wife - who just so happen to have been Horrocks' parents. She went back to her husband afterwards, and the two of them covered it up. They claimed they had found him robbing the house, that he freaked out when they came in and shot himself – but the locals knew what really happened.”

“You got that much from those two girls?”

“Nope, from the bartender. Guy was a mine of information.” Dean drummed his fingers impatiently on the wall as he waited for Sam to sling on his jacket. “So the only problem we have is finding the bones. They could be in any of the graveyards in town: I did a search to come up with the man's name, but I couldn't find the exact location. Turns out there weren't too many people sorry to see him gone.”

“If he was such a creeper, why would anyone be having an affair with him?”

“The heart works in mysterious ways, Sammy.”

“Right, and that's coming from the expert.”

There was a different receptionist when they entered the motel lobby, Dean having strolled with eagerness towards the desk before stepping hastily back. This woman was older, somewhat matronly, and observing them with a hint of disapproval. “I hear you two are the new investigators in town.”

“Just temporary, you know. Working on a case.” Dean gave her a half-hearted attempt at a charming smile.

“You look awfully young for the job,” the woman remarked, and Dean noticed that she was watching Sam in particular. It probably didn't help that the goofball was squinting upwards, rubbing at his eyes like an eight year old.

“Knock it off already,” he hissed, as the two of them left through the main doors at the end of the lobby.

Sam was coughing all the way through the short car ride to the first cemetary - hunched in on himself in the vain hope Dean wouldn't notice - the search of which produced few results. By the time they were midway across the second, Dean was on edge: Sam kept making little snuffling noises, whenever he forgot that he couldn't breathe through his nose, and it was making him nervous. “Can you quit that?”

“I'm sorry, okay?”

“No, not okay - it's like being attached to a damn Yorkie.” He bent down to examine a gravestone, scuffing away some of the moss covering it to see the name underneath. “Are you getting any readings?”

“Nothing.” Sam positioned the EMF meter in front of him, continuing along the row of headstones. “You don't feel kinda self conscious doing this in broad daylight?”

“No one's interested in us. Besides, it's not exactly Grand Central Station here.”

Switching the meter into his other hand, Sam pinched his nose tentatively. “Huh'hh … nh'XHht!”

There was always something barely restrained about the way Sam sneezed, Dean reflected: as though he would hold them in if he could, but was unable to manage it. Even when Sam did successfully stifle the sound, it still jerked him forward and looked, to Dean at least, frankly painful.

“Hh'NGht!” Another brief silence, in which Dean scoured another close collection of graves. Then he heard Sam breathe in again, shakily, and saw him duck sideways out of the corner of his eye. “Uhh'KnChuhh!”

“For crying out loud, Sam.” For all he had just said about being inconspicuous, Dean would have preferred his brother to pitch a sneezing fit at a time when they were engaging in less shifty behaviour.

Leaning over a little, Sam cupped his hands across his mouth and nose. “Huh'CHSHEWw!” His hair had fallen into his eyes, and he brushed it back restlessly.

“Why can't you get sick quietly?”

“Shut up.” Sam winced, and threw a lighter at him. As Sam had been increasingly bad tempered since rejoining his brother, this no longer surprised Dean. What did get his attention was Sam folding his hands over his face again, bending forward a second time with his shoulders raised and tense, and giving in to another round of sneezing. “Uhh … uhh'SHEWw! Uh'KSHCHuh! Huh'ihh … huh'SHhoo!”

“Woah, there. Take it easy, kiddo.”

Sam tried to respond, but instead found himself sucking in a deep breath and swiping his arm across his face again. “Huh'IHHIHSHoo!”

“Bless you. You okay?”

Sam exhaled slowly, and wiped his nose on the back of his hand before replying. “I'm fine, Dean. It's just a cold.”

Dean pushed back Sam's bangs, feeling the hot skin underneath his palm. “You're burning up.”

“Quit that.” Sam swatted his hand away, glancing around anxiously to make sure no one passing by had seen. Dean retaliated at once by cuffing him around the side of the head, and received a death glare in return.

“Yeah, well. I'd be happier if you weren't running a fever.”

Sam let his eyes roll upwards, sneezing twice against his wrist. “Uhh … uhh'KNSHoo! Hh'SHhYEWw!” He moaned gently, and realised he'd dropped the EMF meter. Kneeling down to pick it up, he caught sight of the name on the nearest gravestone. “Hey, Dean. Think we found our guy.”

* * *

Edited June 13, 2013 by BlueRandom

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

CUTE<3 LOVE LOVE LOVE>3. k continue

[AngelEyes]

Edgy Dean. I like it! "Why can't you get sick quietly?" Made me laugh. And grin like an idiot. Um yeah about that. Your writing has that effect on me. Perpetual idiocy. My friends are starting to wonder...

[Introvertedme]

Love LOVE. This is just. Asdfghjkl. I love how Sam's trying to stifle them. Amazingggg *sings*

[Zwee]

Awwwww! Such cute brotherly interactions and banter!! And SO MUCH SNEEZING. It's so so so cute! I love that Dean starts off being like, "What, no, I'm not worried. Can't you get sick quieter?" (which was hilarious) and by the end he's like "You're burning up!" (AW AW AW) and he's a little bit worried and it's CUTE.

[Sawyer]

Awwwww! Such cute brotherly interactions and banter!! And SO MUCH SNEEZING. It's so so so cute! I love that Dean starts off being like, "What, no, I'm not worried. Can't you get sick quieter?" (which was hilarious) and by the end he's like "You're burning up!" (AW AW AW) and he's a little bit worried and it's CUTE.

Yes ALL OF THIS. Sam is so cute trying to stifle them, and that paragraph about there being something "barely restrained about the way he sneezed" oooh my god you got me there. So good. Thrilled that you updated.

[Always-a-Ginger]

Oh yay!

Had to go back and reread from the start. SO well done!

[iluvsneezes]

This is SO good!! You must write more soon -- please.

[NorthernLady]

I agree! Your writing is inspiring

[swann_ee_song]

SERIOUSLY???

Why is it not a thing that you are a writer for the show. This is a fantastic plot! And wonderfully full of sick!Sam. Which is also... duh... the sexy!Sam. Feverish and dizzy Sam is one of my absolute faves. <333

[Firebrand]

Soooo much to love! I was all into the first plot, but then you threw in a flashback & I'm completely invested in this one You write Dean perfectly - his mannerisms & dialogue are spot-on. I feel like this totally could be a Season 1 episode & hopehopehope you continue it soon!