Frigid (SPN fic)

[MaiMai]

I adore this fic so MUCH! It just keeps getting better and better! Dean is so protective and it's so so sweet and photic Sammy is always adorable and the plot is really intriguing! I'm just in love with everything about this!! <3

[AngelEyes]

EEEP! I love it!

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

Awesome ! cant wait for more

[Always-a-Ginger]

Love it.

[iluvsneezes]

I am really enjoying this, and I hope you'll continue with it!!

[sneezysammy345]

Please continue this! This is an amazing story!

[Sawyer]

Y'all are way too sweet. I've been trying but I'm so dry on terms of ideas... if you guys have anything that you'd like to see please let me know! (It'll get done faster that way~ I'm so so uncreative)

[Always-a-Ginger]

random plot related thought that you can totally ignore if it doesn't help you - poltergeist is using morse code to communicate...it would involve some time being spent in frozen shed to interpret and that would only be after they figured out what the flashes were...

[Sawyer]

Thanks to a really really sweet and inspiring message from MaiMai (seriously girl, you're the BEST), I managed to put this together tonight. Sorry for the long wait!

-

PART FIVE

“Oh, Sam. Bless you again. Here, let me fix you both something to drink, thaw you out a little bit. You must be freezing.”

When they had returned back to the house to borrow a shovel so that they could dig out Dean’s car, it had been Keri who had answered and insisted they come inside and warm up before taking off for the evening. She’s now got them both on the couch with the active fireplace only a few feet away.

“There’s got to be something they’re not telling us about the house,” Dean says quietly, once Keri’s out of earshot. “We’re sitting ducks until we figure it out – only other option’s a cleansing ritual, and it takes days to gather the ingredients.”

“What else are we supposed to ask them? They’ve told us everything they know.”

“Then they’re leaving something out without realizing it.” Dean readjusts the blanket that Keri had draped over Sam’s shoulders. “Happens all the time.”

Sam aims an offended look toward Dean, little brother that he is, as he gets bundled up tighter. Despite this, Sam subconsciously burrows further into the blanket, which renders his expression ironic at best. Dean himself is warm enough now that they’re inside, the cold-bitten redness faded from his skin, but Sam seems to have caught a chill, trembling visibly with his nose and cheeks a rusty shade of pink.

“We’re all out of questions,” he remarks, his voice shot and stuffy. “Anything more is going to look suspicious.”

“Then we’re just going to have to improvise.” Dean frowns when Sam’s chest starts to shake with a series of coughs, held in so as not to disturb Keri in the other room. “Jeez, you okay?”

Sam nods, doubling over with his wrist covering his mouth. Heartily, Dean pats him on the back as he rides out the fit. The sound is wet and deep, worse than it was before as it comes more from the depths of his chest than it does from his throat. This cold is moving fast, Dean realizes, as they all tend to do when it comes to Sam – nothing done halfway, going from fine one morning to bed-ridden that same evening. It takes them both by surprise every time.

“I’m fine,” Sam says once he’s finished. Who is he trying to fool? It’s just the two of them right now, and Sam knows that Dean knows Sam’s claim is bullshit. “It’s just worse from being…” He coughs again, twice. “…From being in the cold so long.”

“Seriously, Sam. I don’t want you going back out there tonight – we were barely out for an hour this time; who knows how long we’ll be stuck out there later.”

“I’m tired of you treating me like I’m a kid. You’re not the boss of me, Dean,” Sam says, making himself sound… exactly like a kid.

“I am when your stubbornness interferes with a hunt – and with your own health,” Dean decides, equally fed up with being put on the backburner. “You’re not better by tonight, you can stay lookout.”

Sam doesn’t get a chance to argue, because Keri reenters the room with a tray holding a ceramic kettle and two mugs. “White tea with Echinacea,” she describes, setting them all down on the table. “It’s great for colds – and good on its own, too,” she adds, smiling at Dean. “I added some ginger and cinnamon for flavor; it’s pretty bland otherwise.”

Sam clears his throat and takes a sip. “Thank you,” he tells her; appreciative because even though he’s far too congested to taste anything, his throat already feels a lot better.

Out of politeness, Dean fills his cup, but chooses not to drink – he’s never been a fan of tea, other than when he’s sick. Flavor’s too weak, and you have to drink at least four cups to get a good amount of energy from it anyway.

“So, ah,” Dean says, once Keri sits down. “Is it weird, raising a family in the same house you grew up in?” It’s more interrogation, but this time veiled as conversation – she seems to be up to talking, anyway, judging by the way she sits in an armchair that’s angled to face the couch.

Keri smiles warmly, hands folded in her lap. “A little weird,” she admits. “Although I guess these days it’s less so, now that my husband’s gone.”

“You never said anything about a hhH’hh! about a husband,” Sam says interestedly, unevenly, prompting her as he rubs his nose with the heel of his hand.

“He moved out a couple years ago. Nasty breakup,” Keri explains. “Although we didn’t officially—”

“HuhNKCH’uh!”

“Bless you. We didn’t officially get—”

“Hh’PPTSCHhew!”

“Bless you. We didn’t… aw, how about I let you finish. Looks like you’ve got another one in there.”

“Huhh… HUH’TSCHCHuh! IHSHch! Hhh… uh. Sorry. Sorry, I’m done.” Sam sniffles thickly, doing as best as he can to keep a neutral expression despite the frustration he’s feeling. He’d been trying to keep them contained and unobtrusive, given that their host was just about to offer up some potentially useful information, but even that proved impossible. Dean was right. If Sam couldn’t keep himself together during a simple, safe conversation, it would be dangerous for him to risk it out in the field later.

“Bless you,” Keri repeats. “Are you sure about that cold medicine? We’re fully stocked and it’s no trouble…”

“That would be great, actually,” Dean answers, although the question wasn’t aimed at him. “We were going to pick some up on our way back, anyway.”

“Only if it really isn’t any trouble,” Sam insists. “You’ve already been so gracious, with the tea and everything…”

Keri rolls her eyes. “Please. It’s just one dose, right? And if it’ll help you feel better…”

“Better make that one and a half,” Dean teases. “Pretty sure the average dosages weren’t measured with Sasquatch here in mind.”

Sam shoots his brother a glare, but Keri laughs on her way down the hall.

-

Once she returns – with the whole bottle and a box of tissues – she reclaims her spot on the armchair as Sam doses himself up, visibly trying not to grin as he grimaces after swallowing the medicine.

“So,” Dean starts, intending to pick up where they left off. “You and your ex-husband…”

“Finalized the divorce just last month,” Keri finishes. “Lots of expenses and complications. That was around the time Jeremy moved in – well, into the shed, anyway. We didn’t have much to do with it before.”

“And you said before that he didn’t talk about anything weird in the shed before the, uh… before he got locked out?”

“Who knows,” Keri answers. “If there had been anything, he was probably too stoned to realize it.”

Dean grins for a moment, until Sam swings his leg to kick him in the shin. Dude, seriously?

“Did your ex-husband maybe leave anything behind?” Sam asks. “Sometimes even things like magnets in an object can give off signals that mess with the wiring.”

“You know,” Keri muses, ”there is one last box of his things in the attic.”

“You mind if we take a look?”

[Sophie<3]

Awesome job! This was worth waiting for! And I'm glad MaiMai convinced you to continue!

[sallyhally]

wohooo this is still going! i really love your fic

[AngelEyes]

MMmmm. Intrigue. Loving it!

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

Yeh definitely worth waiting for . Please do continue ! really interesting . Awh Sammy being stubborn tsk tsk. Caring Dean<3

[MaiMai]

Wait wait wait... I inspired you?! *O* Wow. Well I'm glad I could help!

As usual, I adore this!! The plot is great, it's really intriguing, and the whole thing just fits together and flows so well, and the pacing is perfect, too. And of course, caring/concerned Dean and stubborn Sam... the absolute sweetest thing ever!

[Anilkex]

A-HA! A BOX IN THE ATTIC! This is one of the glitches, at least for me, in writing fanfiction that emphasizes this fetish. That balance we talked about before, between the sneezing and the plot. This is why I love prompts, because it outlines what the plot should be. You are most definitely creative - don't ever say that you're not. You just got stuck in the middle of this story - it happens. You posted, like, a million amazing prompts on your own meme. How many prompts did I make? I think 2, if I'm counting right. I can't prompt to save my life. Prompting takes creativity - it's coming up with something completely out of the blue - and you're excellent at it!

<-- That's how I feel about our weather, Senberet.

[Sawyer]

You guys are amazing. Thank you so so so much. I go back and read your comments here, like, practically every day.

<-- That's how I feel about our weather, Senberet.

UGH, I know right? At least the promise of spring means it's almost over! (Although did you hear, 30s and 40s next week? Give me a break! This winter has been HORRIBLE and it's lasting far, far too long.) Plus, that means that I had to hurry up and finish this while it was still seasonally relevant. So! Here's the sixth (and final!) part.

-

PART SIX

There’s a dull but heavy scratchiness in his chest, nose, and head sitting under the aggressive itchy feeling that came about when they opened the box, all dust-covered and setting off clouds of the stuff each time any of the items got moved even in the slightest. Sam’s sensitivity to dust is usually mostly negligible (at least when compared to pollen), leaving him a little sniffly at the worst of times, unless he’s already set off by something – which is, in this case, a virus.

“You know you’re pretty much useless at this point, right?”

“Shhuhhh… shut up.” Being basically down for the count still hasn’t stopped Sam, though; in fact, he’s more stubborn than ever. “Hh’HPTSHhew! … HP’KTSHHEW!”

Dean only rolls his eyes in response (way to prove me right, kiddo). He takes an old encyclopedia out from the box, coughing as he waves his hand in front of him at the dusty fog it emits when he sets it down. Once he feels that his lungs are sufficiently clear, he grins and flips the book so that the cover is facing Sam across from him.

“Hey, you remember? You used to have one of these things. Carried it around everywhere with you.”

Sam squints through watery eyes, frowning in concentration as he tries to remember. Suddenly, he brightens. “Yeah! Yeah, god, it was probably the first book I owned. Probably because it only cost, what, a quarter at the Salvation Army?”

“A quarter? Dude, that thing cost at least ten dollars. It was practically brand new. We just told you it was cheap so you wouldn’t feel bad.”

Sam softens at this. “Dad did that for me?”

“Please.” Dean coughs some more, sets the book down next to the box. “We were always doing stuff like that for you. I had to wear those worn-down shoes for a couple extra months, but it was worth it. You were always getting excited about geeky stuff like encyclopedias, or whatever.”

At that last comment Sam shoots his brother a look of disdain, short-lived as he’s interrupted by his own body’s reaction to the dust. “HhCHSH’uh!”

“Yeah. Bless you. Enough of memory lane, huh? Let’s finish looking through this stuff and get you away from all the dust.”

Sniffling, Sam pulls the collar of his shirt over his nose and mouth and holds it there with one hand, using it as a mask of sorts, while he uses the other to rummage through the box. They both work quietly for a while, inspecting each item contained in the box, the silence punctuated by Sam’s sniffling.

“Okay, hey, check this out,” Sam finally says, producing a small booklet. Its cover is littered with symbols, foreign but familiar. He wipes it off with his free hand, angling his body away from the projected dust.

Dean snatches the book from his brother’s hands and leafs through it, his expression both grim and taken aback as he briefly scans the pages. “Jackpot,” he says finally. “It’s a book of spells. The bottom half of this page is highlighted, look.”

Sam takes the book back and stares at it, coughing deeply down the collar of his shirt. “So much for ‘useless’, huh?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Sam knows that Dean is teasing him – as big brothers often do – so he ignores it and reads on. “Okay, it says that he summoned something, and the only reason it can’t escape is because its energy isn’t allowed to flow.”

“The windows,” Dean says immediately.

“What?”

“Both the attic and the… oh okay. Bless you. I’ll wait.” Dean’s expression is smug, crossing his arms and eyeing Sam who’s dropped his collar and now got his gaze squinted toward the ceiling, his breath coming in erratic gasps.

“Hihh’hh! Hihh… hh’HH’kh’ISHCHuh! TSH’CHHhEW! Ugh, god. Sorry.”

“We gotta get you out of this room, dude, come on.”

Sam shakes his head, allowing Dean to take the book from his hands. “No. No, I’m fine. The

windows…?”

Dean sighs, defeated, and continues. “Yeah – both the attic and the shed only have one window; the energy doesn’t have an opportunity to flow through. That’s why the spirit only manifested there, as opposed to anywhere else on the property.”

“Like it was trapped,” Sam finishes. “So wh-what do we do t-to… to – TSSHUH! Uhh. Sniff! To break the curse?”

“Bless,” Dean murmurs distractedly, flipping through the book’s pages until he stops and points.

“Yahtzee. All we have to do is rip out the page with the spell written on it and toss the ashes out of one of the open windows.”

“Easy enough,” Sam decides. “Let’s do it right now, get it over with.”

While Sam pulls out a lighter, Dean liberates the page and then stands to open the window. It lets in a draft, chilling the air considerably in just a matter of minutes, and Dean winces sympathetically when he sees Sam shiver even under several layers (kid sure does know how to bundle up).

Holding onto the spell-ridden paper, Dean sticks his arm out the window and Sam follows with the hand that’s fostering the lighter before he sets the spell ablaze. Its ashes fall to the ground, slowly, merging with the falling snow and blackening the white ground once they land.

Dean brushes his hands against each other, back and forth, dusting them off. “Nothing left to do, Sammy. We’ll tell Keri to call us if she has any problems, but the book said they should be safe for now.”

They’d better be. Because the next step on Dean’s agenda? Get his little brother into a real bed and take care of him the best way he knows how: blankets, medicine, juice, a washcloth on his face and bowl after bowl of tomato rice soup.

-

Thanks for sticking around guys!! Let me know what you thought! And, of course, if you have any ideas/requests/suggestions for me to write next... give 'em to me here and now! (Or later and somewhere else. Whatever works for you.)

[Anilkex]

This part got me:

Sam softens at this. “Dad did that for me?”

“Please.” Dean coughs some more, sets the book down next to the box. “We were always doing stuff like that for you. I had to wear those worn-down shoes for a couple extra months, but it was worth it. You were always getting excited about geeky stuff like encyclopedias, or whatever.”

Because I loooooooove stories where John is just a dad trying his best in a crappy situation.

Nice ending - I liked the idea of the flowing.

SO WHAT'S NEXT???

[AngelEyes]

Great ending!