Gratuitous Clinic (SPN)

[AngelEyes]

It was like someone set them up for their own personal amusement.

Um, that wouldn't be us by any chance? LOL

I love it!

[All Time No]

You don't understand how much I love you for writing this! I love Supernatural and SAM AND DEAN AND THEIR ALLERGIESSSS!!! I can't! Ugh it's perfect! I can't wait for the next update!

[Anilkex]

Thank you again for all the comments! Here's the next part!

xxxxx

The next morning was not a happy one in the Winchester suite. After their late night stroll, it took another couple hours for their symptoms to retreat, leaving them feeling a little more in control. It affected each of them differently, and whether that was due to the specific allergen or their own personal reaction plan, they didn’t know.

Sam was more classic - congestion, red and itchy eyes, running nose. Every spring he looked like he had a major cold that lasted for over a month or so. This morning, he knew his cheeks were spots of red, even though he didn’t have a fever. His nose was sore from blowing and rubbing against his pillow in an effort to alleviate the constant tickling that seemed to never back down.

Dean was more prone to the headaches, the congestion giving way to serious sinus pressure, rendering him almost helpless at times. He was having trouble focusing, which he knew was going to be a major problem if anything happened to them. He experimentally took a few breaths, glad that while the butterfly wing sensation was still there, it was no longer painful.

In both cases, the sneezing was simply uncontrollable. It became something they were used to, and they accepted it as a part of their everyday lives. Having it displayed for others to watch and record, however, was a whole different thing.

Not long after breakfast, they were ushered into a larger exam room that resembled a laboratory than a doctor’s office. They both took a seat next to each other, again sighing as the cushion melded to their bodies.

Both Dr. Morgan and Dr. Kline were present today, along with the blonde from yesterday. Having confirmed that the lot of them were definitely shady, Dean’s flirty demeanor didn’t reappear.

Both doctors wore pleasant smiles.

Both brothers wore exhausted frowns.

“Alrighty! How are you both feeling this morning?” Dr. Morgan was definitely chipper.

Dean glared at him, making him take a step back. Sam hastily began talking. “Um, we’re okay...just...exhausted and worn out.”

Out came the clipboards and the questions.

“Were you sneezing all night? Were you able to breathe through your nose? How was that headache on a scale of one through nine? Other than the symptoms we discussed yesterday, did you experience anything new? How would you describe the sneezing?”

Dean held up his hands. “Wait, slow down…”

Dr. Kline huffed, and repeated his first question. “Were you sneezing all night?”

Sam nodded, “Um...yeah, but not constantly. Uh...my nose itched all night, though…” He glanced at Dean who nodded in agreement.

More scribbling. Then, “What about your headache, Dean?”

Dean grimaced. “It sucked.”

The doctor looked like he wanted more information, but Dean wasn’t feeling like sharing that one. Instead, Dr. Morgan asked the next question. “You said you were sneezing...how would you describe it?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Dean leaned forward, a confused frown on his face.

Dr. Kline asked this time, “How would you describe the sneezing?”

Dean blinked, and glanced at Sam. What the fuck is he getting at? Sam half shrugged back, so Dean offered, “I’d describe it as annoying, painful, irritating, non-stop, annoying -”

His eyes on the floor, Sam murmured, “You said that one already.”

Dean glared at his brother. “It’s twice as important, smartass.”

Sam sighed. Sniffing, he eyed the doctors. “We’re sick of the sneezing, to be honest. It’s all over the place. Sometimes it’s forceful, and like, almost violent. Other times, it sneaks up on you, leaving you stunned, like, I dunno, a nasty surprise or something. Most of the time, though, it’s just this constant that doesn’t stop no matter what you’re doing.”

Sam’s eyes flickered to his brother, who slumped in his chair, content to let Sam do the talking. Both doctors were scribbling away, making Dean roll his eyes and Sam nudge him with an elbow.

Hard.

Take this seriously. Sam gave Dean an earnest look.

Dean barely gestured at the doctors with his head. Really?

Sam’s eyes narrowed.

Dean’s narrowed back.

Then Sam got creative and gave him The Eyes.

Dean...Dean sighed, and caved, as usual. Pursing his lips together, Dean sat forward, with his elbows on his knees. He clasped his hands, threw Sam one last You So Fucking Owe Me look, and started sharing.

“Alright, fine. Look, it depends on what’s bothering me. Okay? I mean, when it’s something like regular cat hair…” He cast a nasty look at Dr, Kline, who was too absorbed in his writing to notice. “...it’s like a sharp itch, and then the sneezing is just harsh, like I just can’t get that hair out of my nose fast enough. If I’m not ready for it, I can’t control it. At all. It’s one after the other, and they’re rough.”

Sam’s brow scrunched together. “Like that job we took in Minnesota, where that lady turned out to be a cat lady? And we didn’t know until we got to her place and there was fur everywhere?”

Dean nodded, “Yeah, exactly like that. If I know I’m walking into it, like the ridiculous animal shelter case we had last fall, I can sorta prepare for it. Like...gear up and be ready for the symptoms when they hit.” He frowned. “Then again, I was ready for them, but nothing happened once we got there. Just another reason that whole job was fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, okay, that makes sense. I just...huh...I don’t think I can do that.” Sam scratched at the back of his neck while he thought about it.

Dean just shook his head. “You can’t, Sam. You just let ‘em come, and you’re mostly okay with that. I think all that bookworm time you spend in libraries helps you sneeze quieter, but control? Nah...not there.”

Sam sat up, a little put off by Dean’s seemingly condescending attitude. “Well, hold on, what do you mean no control? I have control, Dean. What about you and that...uh...goat mishap? Huh? Where was your control then?” Sam blinked a few times as his eyes watered a little, and he wondered why the hell he was getting upset over this.

Dean scoffed, “I said normal animal fur, Sam. That goat? Not normal.” He flashed a smile at the doctors, who had paused in their writing to listen to the brothers bicker. “He was an asshole goat - special breed.”

Sam huffed and rubbed his eyes. “Whatever, Dean. I’m just saying - don’t go around claiming to have all this control, and that I have none.”

Dean leaned back in his chair, waving a hand at Sam like Sam was just babbling bullshit in the air. “Oooooo-kay, then.” He vigorously scrubbed under his nose before adding, “But you don’t.”

Sam sighed, then sniffed, absently reaching for a Kleenex from the box on the table. “Seriously, you really think I’m just a wimp when it comes to my allergies?” He wiped at his nose and stared at Dean petulantly.

Dean covered his face with his hands, realizing that on top of sharing uncomfortable moments in his life, he’d now upset his baby brother in front of strangers.

When did he regress and become twelve?

Running his hands across his face, Dean cleared his throat a couple times before answering. Where’d the crap in his throat come from?

He decided to use a conciliatory tone, rather than one that clearly communicated his superiority in this issue. “No, Sam, I don’t think you’re a wimp. I think that your allergies hit you hard, and you react the way you need to react. That’s all. It’s not a big deal. You have it worse, and you deal with it way better than I do. That’s...that’s for uh...sure.” Dean sniffed, and grabbed a tissue, blowing his nose and dropping the used wad into a garbage bin.

He shivered a little, rubbing up and down his arms. “Did it get cold in here?”

Before the doctors could answer, Sam jumped in. “Yes, Dean, the building’s temperature decided to drop in an effort to bow down to your master sneeze control.”

Dean considered this, and Sam groaned. “Really?”

“Stranger things, Sammy…”

Sam huffed yet again, and grabbed a few fresh tissues. “Riiiight. Somehow, I doubt that the build...hhhhhhehhhh...building is….is….is-sentient-HTSHHCH--ITSCHCH--ETSCHH!”

Dean sat forward, eyes widening. “Whoa…”

Sam froze, his face covered with tissues. The shocked expression he wore soon gave way to sheepish resignation as he allowed his shoulders to sag.

Dean knew that look. He had a love-hate relationship with that look, since it simultaneously meant he was right, and that he hurt Sam in the process.

Inwardly groaning at how estrogen-filled this hunt was becoming, and trying to concentrate on how much he’ll love ganking these monsters, Dean once again tried to make Sam feel better.

“You okay?” Sam barely nodded, sullenly blowing his nose. “No, really, that was an impressive triple. Even for you.” Sam half-heartedly raised a shoulder, blowing his nose yet again.

Dean sighed. “Look...you have control, okay? I was being...being an ass.” Dean brought his wrist to his nose, rubbing mildly. His breathing increased a little. “You’re good at...uh….hiiiiiihhhh...good….at….hhhhhiiihhhhh…” Dean kept trying to finish his sentence, even though he knew the sneeze was coming. This was a tiff over control. He was gonna finish what he wanted to say, even if he had to make up the rest of it...because...what was he going to say?

“You can….*sniff* you can do…hhhhhh...the...the…hhhhhhehh” His voice became breathy, almost a whisper, while raising in pitch ever so slightly. He inhaled sharply between words, losing focus of what he was trying to say. His eyes closed, only to open them quickly as Dean fought to complete his thinking.

“You-have-control-too-HURSHntHH!”

Sam’s eyes widened a little, as Dean fumbled for another Kleenex, sneezing rapidly into it. “HEHSCHCH! HIHSCHESCH!” He blew his nose and got ready for the next set, a fresh tissue covering his face. Dean was pissed about the crappy timing, and he wasn’t about to go down in the wrong.

The next itch came just as fast, but this time, Dean was ready for it. He held a hand under his nose, and took a deep breath, willing every allergic sensation together, and when the tickling became too much, he rocked forward, containing it all, and not making a sound.

Giving himself an imaginary pat on the back, Dean blew his nose again, and settled in his chair. “Seriously, it’s cold in here, isn’t it?”

Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the doctors. “So...what happens now?” He sneezed roughly into a tissue, gesturing at Dean to hand him a few more.

[Sawyer]

Oh my god. All of the different references to control, and the way they tried to talk over the sneeze, like, the way you wrote that, with the hyphens and everything... so, so, so hot. I'm all about this.

And!! Was that a reference to the animals episode from earlier this season??

[SexualOddity]

Ohhhh that was lovely. I love all the comparisons of the different ways that they are affected. And I like the argument, it worked with them both being just so exhausted and frustrated and snappy. Gosh. They're both so bad already. I kinda feel guilty for being excited about what's to come.

[crazy_cat_girl]

This is seriously the hottest thing I've ever read. The sneezing while hiding in the hallway (!), the sexy sinus headaches that render Dean useless, Sam being all pouty about being a wimp, I love all of it.

I am also intrigued by your plot! What kind of Supernatural is prowling in an allergy clinic? And why is Dean getting cold chills? Yum! I love this! Looking forward to the next part!!

[AngelEyes]

This is great! I love the bickering!

[24Me]

Plead continue! This is incredible!!!

[Anilkex]

I'm the forerunning user of technology in my school, but I can't seem to get the selective quote thing to work for me.

ANYHOO...

Senberet - In regard to your question on my story's reference to a hunt in an animal shelter....I hold Canon Supernatural, Inc. with the highest regard. I would never insult them for blatantly botching a perfect opportunity to maintain continuity with their characters.

I'm glad you're all liking this. I'm a little stunned at how long it's getting. As far as what is lurking in the clinic...well. That's coming...

[NorthernLady]

I'm glad you're all liking this. I'm a little stunned at how long it's getting. As far as what is lurking in the clinic...well. That's coming...

Definitely And you know... your fic is a monster in its own right... quick, someone call the Winchesters

[Always-a-Ginger]

This is so amazing. EVERYTHING is so well done. I can't even begin to list what I liked here. It is all so good. REALLY looking forward to the rest.

[Anilkex]

The doctors were openly staring at the brothers. Dr. Kline finally cleared his throat and consulted some papers. “Well, we wanted to see how you both react to pollen when together, since that seems to be a common allergen.”

Dean’s triumph at proving his stifling control was short lived. Although he knew his nose was sensitive and itching, he wasn’t able to stay on top of it like he just claimed. The tickling was beyond him, and getting worse.

“Okay, so...HURSHHH! What...you’re godda throw ragweed at us?” He sniffed thickly and grabbed more tissues. Looking around the room, Dean noticed vents on opposite sides of the lab, both large enough for a person to crawl through. He shivered violently as a chill shot through him. “Jesus…” He hunched forward, arms tight around him, unclenching only to swipe at his nose with a wad of Kleenex.

“Well, no, we don’t throw things at you. We prefer a gradual exposure so we can observe the effects.”

That didn’t really answer the question.

Sam realized something was off - his nose was itching, yeah, but Dean was reacting much too severely. He cast a sideways glance at the doctors, but they were busy taking notes.

Suddenly twisting to the side, Sam sneezed into the crook of his arm. As he raised his head for another, he noticed the lab assistant, almost forgotten in all their bickering, working at a laptop. His vision blurred with allergic tears just as she clicked away at the keyboard. Unable to focus, Sam sneezed twice more. By the time he was able to look again, she’d moved away to stand near the doctors.

He needed to see that laptop.

Feeling like he arrived late to a party, Sam pieced together that the lab assistant was controlling whatever allergen was being tossed their way. These reactions weren’t leftover from last night - they were fresh.

Way to be on top of shit, Sammy.

He was about to ask what exactly they were being exposed to, but a vicious sneeze distracted him. Alarmed, Sam turned to Dean who was fighting, and losing, a battle with his immune system.

“Whoa...Dean…”

Dean shoved a fist under his nose and shook his head. His eyes were clenched shut, a few tears escaping from between his lashes and trickling down his face. His mouth parted slightly, and Sam could hear the ragged inhales.

Sam’s own nose seemed to be behaving, so he was able to concentrate on his brother, who seemed about to explode. Putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder, Sam hastily grabbed the tissue box and pulled out a bunch. He pressed them into Dean’s hand, and they were taken without a look or a sound.

It was almost as if time stood still for a minute...just waiting for Dean to completely lose it. His face remained hidden behind a cloud of Kleenex, his whole body tense with anticipation of a fit way beyond his control.

This was completely fabricated, with the bad guys right in the room with them, and Sam felt totally powerless to stop the impending attack. He’d never seen Dean like this before. This wasn’t a reaction to just pollen...this was much worse.

He watched Dean scrub the tissues back and forth, only to freeze once more as his head reared back and rocked forward in successive bursts.

“Heh-t’SHHUH--ITSCHCHH--ETSHHCHH--TSCHCHHH--ESCHH-uhh! *gasp* *sniff* Hhhhhhiiiihhhhhhh----hhhhhhh-HESCHCH! Sh...shit…” Dean’s fist moved to his eye, as he bent forward, his head almost on his knees.

Sam slid off his chair, kneeling on the floor in front of him. Hand still on Dean’s shoulder, he knew this sign - a sinus headache was slamming his brother full in the face. Without sparing a glance at the doctors, he asked, “Can you get an ice pack? Or a cold bottle of water?”

One of them answered, “Sam, we really need to see - “

Sam took in the shivering, the debilitating headache, the powerful sneezing that was absolutely uncontrollable. Dean barely shook his head. “ ‘s okay...jus’...’s okay…”

Sam sighed. But then Dean rocked forward with another violent sneeze, barely catching it in his arm. The next one ripped out so fast and so harsh, making Dean do something so unexpected, it took Sam a second to register that it actually happened.

He whimpered. Dean actually whimpered.

And that was it for Sam. He whipped around and glared at both doctors. “Get me an ice pack and some water. Now.”

Sam knows he has that doe-eyed look that pretty much gets him what he wants. But he also has this thunderous look, reserved for when his brother’s in agony and some fucking asshole won’t get a goddamn ice pack for his head.

That look pretty much gets him what he wants, too.

The doctors swallowed nervously, and nodded at the assistant, who scurried off to who-the-fuck-cares to get an ice pack.

By the time she returned, Sam could feel his own nose acting up again. Snatching it from her, he pressed it against Dean’s forehead. “Here...hold...hold this on...on your...hhhhhh--head...itschew!”

Dean eagerly grabbed it, holding it in place. He remained hunched over, the sneezing seeming to settle a bit.

But not for Sam. He sat back on his knees, distinctly feeling like he was in the middle of field, watching a giant lawn mower dance around him. Blearily, he glanced at the doctors. “Grass? This...this is...grass? I-ITSCHEW! *sniff* We deed to...to...heh-ESCHEW! ITSCHOO!”

“We understand, Sam. We’re almost done gathering our data for your treatment plan. Just a little longer…”

Sam plopped onto the floor, hand wavering by his nose. He weakly shook his head, unable to concentrate on anything but the tickle that was rapidly building in his nose. “Heh-ISCHEW! Hiiihhhh-ITSCHCH! IHCHHHT! TITSCHHH! Heh-TISCHCH! Hih-CHHHHSH!”

Sam sat gasping on the floor, wanting to get back to Dean, but frozen in place as sneeze after sneeze rocked him forward.

Through the thick haze of his headache and watering eyes, Dean watched helplessly as Sam pitched forward time and again not two feet from him. This hunt was a fucking mess.

He dragged his eyes towards the doctors in time to see them exchange a look that was waaaaay to satisfied for Dean’s taste.

Hunt or no hunt, they needed to die on principle alone.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, the itching flared once again, this time deep within his sinuses, close to the painful pressure that made his eyes water.

The sight wasn’t a pretty one, and most probably, John Winchester was rolling over in his grave. Both his sons were incapacitated, one on the floor engulfed in a fit of non-stop sneezing against the crook of his arm, the other in a chair, curled in on himself, shaking and sneezing into a useless wad of tissues.

The mighty Winchesters, fallen by pollen and animal dander. Dean wanted to throw up.

No really...Dean wanted to throw up. The headache reached unbearable levels, and he feebly tried to communicate that, but a soft sneeze was all that escaped his lips.

Just as before, a cooling breeze floated through the room, causing both to shiver, but instantly stop sneezing.

They’ll take it.

Breathless, they stared open-mouthed at their torturers. Dr. Kline placed his pen on a counter behind him, and stood to leave. Dr. Morgan smiled briefly at them. “We know this was a terrible experience for you.” Dean tried to snort at that, but he couldn’t breathe through his nose. “We’ll give you some time to recover in your room while we analyze our results. Then we’ll have a treatment plan for you to begin!”

[crazy_cat_girl]

Ohhh, Dean!! Love me some protective Sammy, too~!~

[facet]

.

Edited October 30, 2019 by facet
Removed by user.

[AngelEyes]

Sam knows he has that doe-eyed look that pretty much gets him what he wants. But he also has this thunderous look, reserved for when his brother’s in agony and some fucking asshole won’t get a goddamn ice pack for his head.

That look pretty much gets him what he wants, too.

He has the best looks! I'm loving this!

[NorthernLady]

The sight wasn’t a pretty one, and most probably, John Winchester was rolling over in his grave. Both his sons were incapacitated, one on the floor engulfed in a fit of non-stop sneezing against the crook of his arm, the other in a chair, curled in on himself, shaking and sneezing into a useless wad of tissues.

The mighty Winchesters, fallen by pollen and animal dander

My favorite part of the post And in the eternal words of Death himself "I feel I'm gonna reap someone really soon"

Can't wait to see the ganking begin!

[phoenix]

I... *gulp.* This is one of the hottest things I've read. I thought the sections where they were each in the office individually were all I could possibly ask for, but then there was sneezing while hiding and that discussion of control... *fans self.* I'm so glad you decided to embrace the gratuitousness. It's amazing. And it's not even over yet! You're too good to us. Can't wait to read the rest.

[Sawyer]

God, protective Sam... and the grass... and Dean's severe reaction... *fans self*

[Always-a-Ginger]

"No really...Dean wanted to throw up. The headache reached unbearable levels, and he feebly tried to communicate that, but a soft sneeze was all that escaped his lips."

This whole story has been beyond fantastic, but this line made my heart clench in sympathy. Poor Dean.

[telltale]

Wowwww. This is such a cool idea. I love the Dean bits especially because the whole thing where someone is so uncomfortable being out of control is my fave scenario ever, and he is the perfect example of it. And the headaches! This is fantastic all-around, though.

[Anilkex]

Sorry for the delay...I got caught up in a couple other stories, and now Tarotgal's meme is haunting me. Anyway, here's the next section. It's short, but pivotal. Gripping. Intense.

No, just short. The end is in sight, though!

xxxxx

Both doctors rose to leave, clearly indicating that the brothers should do the same. For barely a second, the brothers’ eyes met, and Dean’s gaze flickered to the lab assistant’s laptop. Understanding flashed in Sam’s eyes, as Dean staggered to his feet.

Dr. Kline left the room briskly, like the dick he is (Dean wasn’t feeling generous right then). As the blonde assistant moved towards the laptop, Dean stumbled right into her. He let out a groan, simultaneously falling and steering her towards the door. Luckily, the pain in his head and the still present itching in his nose helped make the whole thing believeable.

“HURSHHH!” Dean clutched at her to stop himself from hitting the floor. She let out a gasp, holding him up and helping him to the doorway. “Fuck...I...I’b so sorry…”

Dr. Morgan turned, reaching out a steadying hand. “It may take a bit for the symptoms to dissipate. But I promise you, our treatments will help!”

Dean allowed himself to truly look miserable. He wanted nothing more than to punch this asshole in the face, but instead, he sniffled and ran a shaky hand over his eyes. Dean let himself look as shitty as he felt. That wasn’t hard, it just felt extremely uncomfortable. Being honest about feeling weak and useless wasn’t how he rolled.

Sniffling once more, Dean let out a ragged sigh. He still had a tight grip on the blonde, and his weight pulled her towards the doctor and the door. “I just...Christ, whatever you exposed us to really packed a...a...HETSCHHH! *sniff* a pundch.”

As soon as he reached the doorway, he pressed a hand to his head. “By head is killindg be…” He stumbled again, almost falling to the floor. Dr. Morgan and the blonde both helped him up, leaning him against the doorway and making sure he was okay.

“Mr. Winchester...are you able to return to your room or do you need some assistance?”

Dean thunked his head against the doorframe and sighed. “I’b dot sure...I...HESCHCH! ...fuck…” He continued to blindly grasp at both the tech and the doctor, keeping them close while inching through the doorway.

Suddenly, Sam appeared, prying Dean’s fingers off the doctor, and definitely the blonde. “I’ve got him...thank you...we can get to the room on our own.” Sam helped Dean to his feet. “C’mon, big brother...time for you to lie down.”

“Nggggghhh...Sabby?”

“Yeah...c’mon. Let’s go.”

Together, they staggered down the hallway and ducked into their room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Dean straightened, rubbed his eyes and nodded at Sam. “So what’d you find out on the chick’s laptop?”

Sam shook his head and sat on his bed. “The names of all five victims were listed in a spreadsheet, along with a few others...including ours.”

Dean’s eyebrows went up at that, as he sat on the bed, taking a tissue from the box and wiping his nose.

“Yeah, I know. The names are intriguing, but more than that, were the headers on the sheet. I would’ve thought that they’d keep track of what we’re allergic to. Instead they...uh...HESCHCH! *sniff* only listed one trigger - something called the Rosy Starburst - and the details of our reactions to it.”

Dean made a face at that. “The Rosy Starburst? What the fuck is that? Sounds like a ninety-year-old stripper.” He sneezed into his tissue, groaned, then leaned back against the wall.

Sam laughed. “It does, actually. I’m thinking it’s the name of that flower - the one with the pink petals - that just made me lose my shit in that room. I’ve never had a reaction like that before...to anything.”

Dean nodded slowly, eyes lost in thought as he massaged his forehead. “Me either. What else did you find?”

Sam sighed. “Well, there were also dates listed...the dates next to the victims names were the days they died. And...apparently, tomorrow it’s our turn.”

[AngelEyes]

Oooh! Cliffhanger!

[Kali]

YOU. ARE. GENIUS.

How do you manage to stick an intriguing plot in the midst of all this fluff and hotness?? Seriously though, this is amazing. Can't wait for the next part!!

[Sonicman]

nice job. how long did it take you to write this story down? just wondering

[Anilkex]

Sonicman: nice job. how long did it take you to write this story down? just wondering.

I'm still writing it, which is weird for me. This is my first work-in-progress...I've always only posted finished stories. That said, my first post was March 7, and I've been working on it since then. Mind you, not continuously, which is why I hate works-in-progress. I get distracted and tend to have 4 stories going at once. :/

Thanks again for all the kind reviews! I'll get the rest posted sometime this weekend!!!