Florida (SPN fic)

[Sawyer]

Sick of me yet? Here's another! From SexualOddity's prompt: "Sam is suffering from heat stroke, but it's come on really slowly. He's a little out of it, but it's been a rough week so Dean doesn't think all that much about it. The first thing that tips Dean off to it is that these crazy, out of control allergies that Sam had had as a kid make a sudden and dramatic reappearance. For years he's been a master at managing the symptoms, knowing just exactly what to take and when to take it. But things are getting foggy now and he's forgetting his medicines. Luckily Dean figures it out and of course he gives Sammy every thing he needs."

Not a word-for-word expansion, per say (I'm not that good!) but it's something! Sorry for any, like continuity errors or anything -- I wrote it all pretty quickly this afternoon.

-

-

Dean notices it when his brother’s words start hitching in the middle of an interview.

They’ve been on this case for nearly four days, and both of them are sick and tired of running back and forth across town with very few leads to go on. It’s Winchester luck that’s got them working in Cassadaga during what’s arguably the hottest week of the year, forcing them to trudge through the “Psychic Capital of the World” in suffocating humidity.

It’s pushing 95 outside and Dean’s nose is already tinged red (despite him using sunscreen at Sammy’s request like a little kid) and Sam’s cheeks are chronically sporting an unhealthy flush. The first couple days Sam had even insisted on wearing a flannel because his t-shirts were “all dirty, and we haven’t done laundry in a week, Dean” but yesterday he had finally stopped bitching and given into the heat, although neither of them had broken and bought a pair of shorts to accommodate the weather.

This hour’s witness is a self-proclaimed psychic, complete with a headscarf and crystal ball, and wouldn’t it be something if they got a buck for every time they ran into one of those. Probably would make enough to stop needing to run credit card scams, at least.

“I believe that the Seer of Spiritualism is still very much alive at the camp,” she’s saying, hands folded in her lap as she sits across from them in her living room. Every inch of the place is adorned with spiritualistic memorabilia, candles and incense burning in every room (which is definitely a fire hazard, but nobody says anything).

“What makes you say that?” Sam prompts after clearing his throat.

“Oh, I can just feel it,” she practically moans. Her voice is consistently soft and breathy, almost whimsical.

“So you’re saying that there’s no – physical – proof,” Dean translates.

She bristles, and Sam does his best to smooth out the situation. “Ma’am have you ever felt any, uh… f-felt any hptISHHEW! NGHT!”

“Any cold spots?” Dean finishes.

“HuhTSCHuh!”

Dean side-eyes his brother, confused. Sam had more or less gotten his allergies under control some time during high school, learned how to stave off a sneeze when it was important (like during a hunt) and keep his symptoms down to a minimum using the right cocktail of antihistamines, calculated based on their given location’s climate and time of the season. Sure, once in a while he would have a bad day, during which it wasn’t uncommon to let a couple sneezes slip during an interview.

But today wasn’t one of those days – the air was still, and Sam had spent the previous night sleeping on top of the covers wheeze-free (if not a little congested, which Dean could only expect from Sam on a midsummer evening in the humid south).

“Bless you,” their witness says, and Dean raises his eyebrows at her expectantly before she can say anything about toxins. “There hasn’t been any of that, no. His presence is always warm.”

“And you don’t think it had any… sorry, excuse me.” Sam turns from them and presses the lower half of his face into his shoulder. “Hh’mmpCHHSH! CHSHew! Hh’HuhhNGHtshh! Uhh. Sniff!” He turns back and continues. “Anything to do with the drownings last week?”

“I believe it had much to do with them,” she corrects. “His spirit saved them; brought them to another realm. He knew it was their time.”

“But you don’t think he caused them,” Dean fills in. He’s heard about enough; this lady’s a dead end. He stands up and says, “Thank you for your time. Let us know if you, uh, sense anything else.”

Sam’s scrubbing at his nose, which is so painfully unprofessional, but still, he stands and follows his brother, offering the witness an uneven smile on his way out.

“What was that all about?” Dean asks once they’re out the front door, subject once again to the blazing Floridian heat.

“You heard her,” Sam says. “Same as the other witnesses. Another drehh… ehtktsschew! Sniff! Dry lead.”

“Not that,” Dean clarifies. “That. Why are you sneezing? You seemed okay this morning.”

“Probably all the candles she was burning.” Sam rubs his eye. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Dean shrugs and heads for the car, his skin already feeling tight with irritation from the sun.

-

It happens again not even twenty minutes later, shortly after they’re stopped by a street vendor wearing a low-cut top and flowing skirt, insisting that they sample some of her home made soaps.

“They’re therapeutic,” she educates, gesturing to the several wicker baskets she’s got laid out on a table. One of the straps of her tank top is falling off of her shoulder, but Dean doesn’t say anything. “Try the cardamom and cedarwood. Relieves tension.”

She lifts an uneven, clayish square up to Sam’s face before he can refuse. His eyelashes flutter and he scrunches up his nose, and then rubs at the septum with his index knuckle. His breath wavers, but he blinks hard and looks down before it steadies again.

“This is sandalwood,” the merchant continues. “Very relaxing; good for meditation.”

This one must be even stronger than the last because Dean can tell that his brother is having a harder time keeping it together. With a misplaced sense of wonder, he thinks, What is sandalwood anyway?

He sees that Sam is pretty much past the tipping point, no matter how hard he might try to hold it back out of politeness (or whatever), so Dean gently removes the product from her hand and places it back in its basket and says, “You know what? Think I forgot my wallet in the car anyway. But thanks,” and gives her a flirtatious smile and a final once-over (kind of cute for a hippie chick, eh Sam?) and that’s the end of that.

The second Sam turns around and begins walking, he pitches forward into his hands. “HpKSSHUH! Hih! Hht’TCHSCHEW!”

“Sandalwood?” Dean assumes.

“I guess,” Sam confirms absently, sniffling a couple times and swiping at his forehead. “HuuhITSHHEW! Hrr’ESHHUH! ISSH! God. Sniff! Sorry.”

“You take your meds today?”

“Oh, uh…” Sam ponders this for a moment, which alone is enough to give Dean the answer. Sam’s normally on top of stuff like that; it would take something big to make him forget.

-

By twilight Sam’s actually had countless sneezing fits, despite Dean’s shoving allergy pills down his throat and trying to keep him indoors. There’s only so much he can do, though – but at least now they’ve found out whose bones they have to burn, and he only hopes that they can get it over with quickly so he can put Sam to bed.

“’Least the sun’s finally going down,” Dean remarks as they grab the shovels from the trunk.

Sam fans himself by repeatedly plucking the front of his shirt. It’s his third of the day; the other two had gotten soaked fast from the heat. He clears his throat, but doesn’t respond any further.

“You doin’ okay?” Dean tries.

“Uh-huh.” Sam pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, just…” he leans against the side of the car. “Just dizzy.”

“Sinuses?”

“No, not that, I’m just…” Sam doesn’t finish his thought, blinks up at the sky instead. “HuhhhEht’ISSHUH! TSSH! ITSHCHUH! Uhh. Tired of that.”

While Sam scrubs at his face, Dean notices the dark rosy color on his cheeks that match the shade of his nose all too perfectly. However, Sam doesn’t burn – he always comes out of the sun with a healthy bronze glow, which means that this gives Dean (the lobster) cause for concern.

“Hey, c’mere for a sec,” he says, shutting the trunk and patting the impala’s hood, prompting Sam to lean against it. “You got a fever?”

“It’s hot out,” Sam rebuttals, too weak to push Dean away when he palms his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” Dean tells him before grabbing the keys from his pocket, prepared to drive back to the room.

“I don’t feel sick,” Sam argues, licks his lips.

“You been drinking water? It’s hot out.” Dean sounds like a broken record, or a parrot, maybe. He grabs Sam’s hand and pinches the skin of his knuckle, watches it fall back into place very, very slowly. “You’re dehydrated.”

And instantly, that explains it. The confusion, the dizziness, the loss of control and Sam generally being very, very off his game. Dean kicks himself, because he should have been paying closer attention to something like that.

He gets into the driver’s seat, motions for Sam to enter the car beside him. “I’ll run through a drive thru and get you back to the motel,” he promises. “The bones can wait until tomorrow.”

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

Awesome, too perfect (: cute confused sniffly Sammy. Perfection <3

[Renny]

sjhadsfhadskfjaskjdf this tho

just the whole thing. sneezy, tired, confused sam. <3

i love it.

[PortlandLove]

so. good.

[SexualOddity]

*beams*

I love this so much. Ugh, just the loss of control, and Dean noticing and what an awesome scenario - so many allergy-inducing things all in one place! Oh God, the image of Sam battling a sneeze when the woman thrusts the soap in his face... oh my goodness! So hot! And stumbling over his words and excusing himself in the interview and being all dizzy and out of it. This is a great big bundle of all my favourite things. I actually genuinely can't stop smiling. I can't thank you enough. So happy I saw your prompt request! Let me know if I can ever return the favour by filling something for you x

[Sawyer]

You are the best. The actual best. Thank you! THANK YOU!

Man, the part about the soap... haha, I had actually thought of it not too long ago when I ran into a vendor like that (oh my god, her stuff smelled so strong) and it was actually the first thing I thought of and it wouldn't stop replaying in my head! I was going to use it in a drabbely thing but then I thought that it would fit in here really well!

[Zwee]

Ahhhh, just... just yes. SO yes.

WHY ARE YOU SO GOOD AT THIS.

Oh my gosh, this is just so cute. And I'm crying. With cuteness. It's adorable. AH! And just... Dean knowing something's wrong, but he doesn't get it until he thinks it's a sunburn which doesn't make any sense!! Gah, the way he just has no control and he's just sneezy and forgetful and Dean's like, "This isn't right". And that soap lady! I think I've met her!! Seriously! I've totally visualized that happening too! Because my brain just goes to Supernatural always when sneezy situations arise.

HE IS SO CUTE. I also looooove sneezing during an interview. HOT. Hot.

Thank you for posting this, it's TOO GOOOOOD!!

[Ciuty80]

although i don´t comment everything from SPN i would NEVER EVER get sick of reading about the boys

just write and write and write...i will always read it! PROMISE!

allergic!sam is super cute!!!!

[Lace Butterfly]

Awesome characterization and attention to detail, allergic Sam and Dean being the amazing big brother he is. Wonderful Also love how you added in the fact that Dean burns in the sun but not Sam, it'd be so true haha. Good work.