If They'd Have Let Me Write The Pestilence Episode... (SPN)

[SexualOddity]

So,,, I've been intending to write this for ages but I've had a couple of false starts and been a little nervous about putting pen to paper, but here it is! No sneezing in this part I'm afraid, but plenty to come

--

It’s the throbbing at the back of his head that Dean feels before anything else, then the aching at his shoulders and the damp soaking through the back of his jeans. Everything comes to life with a sickening lurch when he opens his eyes.

“Fuck. Sam? Sammy?”

His voice is rough from lack of use and he has to blink about nine times into the morning light before he can make out the shape of his brother slumped across from him in this.... warehouse? Barn? Prison? He clears his throat in an attempt at volume.

“Hey, Sam!”

There’s a grunt, but Dean’s not really sure he’s waking. He twists in his restraints instead to feel along the cuff of his jacket.

Thank fuck. Thank the fucking fucked up God of demons and hunters and stupid, moron kidnappers. Threaded in between the fabric is the tip of his broken hair pin, slim and sharp and right where he left it.

“Urgh, God, Dean...” Sam groans from across the room.

“Easy there Princess, I’m about to save the day.”

It isn’t until he starts to thumb for the lock of his handcuffs that he feels plastic and paper on the shelf to which his hands are fastened.

“Sammy?”

Sam just grunts in response.

“You got the faintest idea how we got here?”

“Ugh. No questions now. Head doesn’t work.”

But Dean can tell from the chink of metal on metal that he’s working at his own restraints. Dean’s lock pops before Sam’s and he stumbles trying to rise to his feet. He presses at his temple with the heel of his hand.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that they drugged us.” Dean pats his pockets down and finds to his amazement that there’s still a mini torch tucked into the pocket of his jeans. “Huh... Good, strong drugs; crappy attention to detail. So far my money’s on the CIA.”

Dean is just clicking on the light when Sam comes staggering over, planting a hand against the wall to steady himself. He follows the beam of light onto the shelf and stretches for one of two empty and abandoned syringes.

“Well this is never good...”

Under the needle is a stack of papers, loosely bound. Dean eye is drawn immediately draw to a name, three lines down centre right of the page. He thumbs quickly through the other sheets: news reports, it looks like, a few printed, others hand-penned and faded. Behind them all is a tattered page that looks as if it has been torn out from a children’s religious book.

“The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,” the title reads. “______, Pestilence, _______ and Death.”

From what Dean can see in the torchlight, it looks as though the text for ‘War’ and ‘Famine’ has been scratched from the paper with a penknife.

[Sawyer]

I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS. Jumping in my chair and whatever. Thank you! I cannot wait to see what you do. It's off to a good start already, with the headaches and unsteadiness and hero!Dean... oh my god.

[GeldingWest]

Wooooow so excited to see the rest of thissss!

[VividBubbles!]

Oh god. I have been waiting for someone to do this for, like, forever. Um, okay. I'll just go and fangirl away from here but before I go I just want to say that you are awesome and I am so excited for this okay bye.

*fangirl screams echo in the distance*

Edited August 14, 2013 by VividBubbles!

[iluvsneezes]

Loving this!! I cannot wait to read more.

[Akahana]

Ohh~this looks promising!! I can't wait for some sneezy brothers! <3 <3

[PortlandLove]

more! more!

[Always-a-Ginger]

SO excited to see where you take this!

So much potential.

[Zwee]

OMG what you have nooooo idea how excited I am for this, and sneezing hasn't even been hinted at happening yet.

GAH.

CAN'T EVEN WAIT.

[SexualOddity]

Eep! Thanks guys. It's lovely to see that there's interest for this. I just hope I can live up to the scenario, because it was so crying out to be done, I don't want to mess it up! Just another little bit for you for now. Hope you enjoy

--

“Do you want the bad news or the bad news?” Sam asks when Dean pushes open the door to their room. Dean grimaces and hands Sam a takeout cup sloshing with a triple espresso. The dizziness and headaches have dulled a little with time, but Dean is hoping that he can see of the rest with a blatant abuse of caffeinated beverages.

“Let’s go crazy. Give me the bad news,” Dean suggests, slumping down in his seat.

Sam blinks hard, as if he has something in his eye, but he scrunches up his face and pinches the bridge of his nose and the feeling seems to pass. “Well, I’ve read these papers inside and out, seems that they’re all accounts of some kind of pestilence curse. A couple of themb... hhhHH... HuhhT’esSHH! A couple of them call it the Blight of the Apocalypse. Sounds like the victims s-started with a reverse chrondology of... Hhh’HATCH’Yew! of all the illnesses they’d ever had.”

Dean frowns at his brother. “Bless you...” he offers, taking note for the first time of the roll of toilet roll stood up at the side of Sam’s computer.

“And the bad news?

Sam stares at him. “We woke up next to frickin’ syringes, Dean.”

“Oh. Okay, right...”

Dean leafs through the pages that Sam hands across. It makes for grim reading. Gruesome accounts of tainted people becoming sicker by degrees as they succumbed to illness after illness until the thing finally wore them down. A few among the reporters had noted that it seemed that the victims were working through a history of their own diseases that they had suffered from, the most recent first and working backward. Dean has to break off in his reading three times to bless his brother after he breaks into bursts of sneezing.

“So I’m guessing this isn’t an allergy attack you’re having here?”

“I don’t think so.” Sam gives him an apologetic half-smile from behind a bundle of Kleenex, and Dean runs his hands through his hair.

“Well, fuck.”

[Always-a-Ginger]

Love this concept. So much more realistic (if that can be the right word) than Pestilence randomly selecting diseases for people.

[phoenix]

I love this scenario, especially the backward chronology of illnesses! Can't wait to see how it progresses.

[VividBubbles!]

Gah, smart!Sammy. I youuuu.

Welps, I guess I just sit here vibrating with excitement until you update.

BYE!

[GeldingWest]

Yaaay! Hehe Sam's smile at the end is perf. The sneezes while he's talking is wonderful.

[Hedgehog]

Nice beginning. Hope for some fevers.

[Feta Sneeze]

Absolutely loving this. Hrnnng....need moar....

Continue please! You capture the characters so well!

[Introvertedme]

Ok can I just say, I LOVE the fact that the part where he's pinching the bridge and squinting describes your avatar PERFECTLY. <3 oooo please do continue, I'm lovin this.

[Feta Sneeze]

Ok can I just say, I LOVE the fact that the part where he's pinching the bridge and squinting describes your avatar PERFECTLY

THAT....is an amazing point. Great visual....

[swann_ee_song]

Liking this so far! Can't wait for more! <33

[SexualOddity]

Oh my goodness. That was a complete coincidence about my avatar. Thank you for pointing that out. I totally read that part again using it as a visual! You're definitely in for some fevers, Hedgehog, and on that note, Sam and Dean are gonna have to start figuring out pretty soon what they're going to be up against, so I wanted to open it up to you guys in case you had any illnesses that you wanted to see from either or both boys. Obviously ridiculously sneezy colds is a given, but I'll try to include as much as I can from other bits and pieces that people want.

Sorry for the wait for this! It eluded me for a while.

--

“Hh’HHP’PPTCHtchyew! HhUH’RHHhSHYew! Hhh’HAHTCH’YAH! HAHTCH’AHhh! HUH’SHhhSHYEW!”

“Jesus.” Dean winces at his brother as he gropes around his duffle bag, hoping to find a clean bandana.

Sam has been getting worse; fast, which, if the accounts they’ve read are anything to go by, is pretty much the name of the game. It’s been twenty minutes and he’s already worked his way through all of the toilet paper in the motel room. Plus, he’s taken to sneezing into his sleeve, leaving the bandana Dean has already given him crumpled on the desk. It’s already probably pretty much unusable. At the bottom of the bag Dean finds a replacement and hands it over.

“You doing okay?” Dean asks, genuinely concerned.

Sam accepts the fabric gratefully and blows his nose. “Yeah I am, it’s kinda just my sinuses.” He rubs at them with the tips of his fingers as if to demonstrate.

Dean hums and nods in agreement. They both remember this cold from the first time round, and Sam’s assessment rings true. They hadn’t felt too ill with it, and they’d only handed their job over to Bobby in the end because neither one of them couldn’t quit sneezing for long enough to drive. Sam had said he had counted twenty used Kleenex boxes in their motel room on the day they left.

Trying to think back to how he’d felt at the start of that cold, Dean sniffs experimentally. No aching underneath his eyes, no catch in his throat, none of the constant fucking drip from his nose that he remembers. If they really were living out this bug again then both of them had been sick. In fact, he was pretty sure Sam had caught it from him.

“You ever wonder how this fits in with the vessel thing?” He asks. “Pestilence has an issue with us, I get that. But if he’s really in the Devil’s tow then he ought to want you in one piece.”

“There’s a lot that doesn’t add up,” Sam murmurs, biting on his thumbnail as he reads something from his computer screen.

“You’re reading it wrong.”

Before he knows what’s happening, Dean is at his feet, hand fidgeting at the pocket where he would normally keep his gun. As he realises that they’re back in their room and his pistol is safely stashed beneath his pillow, he takes in a figure, lazing unapologetically across Sam’s blankets as if he’d been a party to the whole conversation.

“Jesus Christ, Crowley!”

“Not even close.” Crowley smirks. “But I have come to make your day. Looks like you need a little help with that text. Hebrew is a bugger to translate.”

Sam barely stifles a sneeze into the back of his wrist, followed by another set into the palm of his hand. Suddenly Dean feels low on patience.

“How ‘bout you just tell us what you know?”

Crowley raises an eyebrow and smiles a smile that is just a little more indulgent than Dean can stand, but he does continue.

“You’re reading ‘illnesses you’ve had in your lifetime’. Try: ‘illnesses since the last time that you died’.”

There’s a beat of silence broken by an almighty sneeze from Sam. Apparently he’s given up on trying to hold them in.

“We haven’t been sick since the last time we died...” Dean begins, but stops abruptly. "This is one of those moments where you havta wake up to how weird your life is."

Crowley smiles again. That stupid fucking smile. “You don’t get away that easily. Death is something of a murky concept in Hell these days. Far too many comas and near-death experiences. Don’t get me started on CPR. Ancient curses tend to wait on something a little more permanent.”

“Meaning..?”

“Meaning your little half-day excursions into the afterlife aren’t impressing anyone. We’re talking about death here.”

“You’re talking about Hell,” Dean realises.

Crowley just shrugs. “Hell counts.”

“So Whhuh-We’re on d-different Huhh-HASHHuu! Timelines. HuhhISHH’UH!”

“Oh he’s with us!” Crowley responds in mock-amazement. He looks as though he's ready to give Sammy a round of applause. Dean could kick him. “Hello there, sniffles.”

“That’s why you’re not suhh’hhh’sick yet, Dean. EhhISHHtSHyew! Hehp’PSHH’shYew! We’re on different timelines. Mine goes back to 2007, yours goes back to... Huhh... HuhhAHShhAh! Ugh. To 2008.” Sam blows his nose into Dean’s bandana. “What we need to know is whether this is contagious.”

“You look pretty contagious,” Crowley suggests.

“Don’t get cute. I’m talking about the Pestilence.”

Crowley is already headed for the door. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Crowley, if we pass this on it’s a frigging death sentence!” Sam protests.

“Call it an incentive to finish the horseman real quick,” Crowley smiles, this time with a creepy kind of faux-concern. “I’d invest in some proper tissues soon princess. You’re looking awfully chapped.”

He doesn’t give Sam the opportunity to respond.

[VividBubbles!]

Afbgkvfjjfshbzkusd!!!!! CROWLEY! *flails about*

Gah, I freakin' love Crowley. And my gosh girl! You're plot to this thing is awesome! I never could have come up with something this good even if I had tried.

Update soon!

BYE!

[GeldingWest]

Yay! Yay! Yay! *dances happily* Poor moose and wow awesome ideas!! Can't wait for the next chapter. x3

[phoenix]

Oo, very nice! I loved the bit about Dean digging for a new bandana because Sam's just given up and started sneezing into his sleeve. And his wrist. And his palm. I like those visuals, for sure.

So glad Crowley made an appearance! And yes, their lives (and deaths) are a bit unconventional! I sometimes forget that as well.

Looking forward to seeing what happens next!

[Sawyer]

IT KEEPS GETTING BETTER. Wow, you are so so creative! And you write Crowley really, really well. I love his snark and all his comments (hello there sniffles, you look pretty contagious, looking awfully chapped, ughhh who gave you the key to my brain??? I love them SO MUCH) and of course the description of the cold that they had shared earlier (too much sneezing to even drive! having to pass on a case! the tissues! mmm!) and, wow, all of the sneezing, and his sleeve and wrist and palm and bandanas and the way you spell fits is amazing... I'm not sure if I've ever told you that, but I've always thought it because sometimes you'll spell sneezes almost-but-not-quite the same when they're right after each other and that's so realistic, god, and Sam trying to keep them quiet when Crowley first appeared and then letting them go, god, this is sooo so so hot and I seriously cannot fathom how you come up with so much hot stuff, thank you thank you and I'm waiting for the next part!!!!!

[Always-a-Ginger]

This update seriously made my day!

You write Crowley so very well. Love the image of him lounging on the bed and you nailed his voice too. Putting the boys on different timelines is brilliant - lots of options for who has what and when. Poor Sam. I would totally have to chart this out if I were writing it - it would blow my mind!

So loving it!