Daddy's Little Soldier (SPN) - Dean

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

“So, this’ll be your first place?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, taking point on this one for Dean’s sake, “We move around a lot, so, it’ll be good to settle down somewhere.”

“Mm-hm,” Ted hummed, “And how long you two been together?”

Dean punched Sam in that arm, hard. The silence made Ted turn around and Dean pretended to be fixing Sam’s hair.

“Feels like forever,” he grinned.

Ted smiled warmly, turned back around. Dean flogged Sam in that back of the head.

“Ow, son of a -”

Gahhhhh!!!!!! *flails frantically in mad laughter* You know just how to make my day!

I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT!

[Sawyer]

That last scene was my favorite ever! I've been following this like crazy. So happy it's still going!

[HPG]

Really really good.

[CHOCOLATE <3]

“Yeah,” Sam said, taking point on this one for Dean’s sake, “We move around a lot, so, it’ll be good to settle down somewhere.”

“Mm-hm,” Ted hummed, “And how long you two been together?”

Dean punched Sam in that arm, hard. The silence made Ted turn around and Dean pretended to be fixing Sam’s hair.

“Feels like forever,” he grinned.

Ted smiled warmly, turned back around. Dean flogged Sam in that back of the head.

“Ow, son of a -”

“Sorry, did you say something?” Ted turned again, as he unlocked the front door.

“Oh, nothing,” Sam shrugged, “Just saying how much Dean’ll love the garden. Marigolds are his favourite.”

Sam smiled smugly, could feel Dean’s gaze burning a hole in the back of his head, in the same place where he smacked him. Because, of course, it was his fault this guy thought they were a couple.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ted grinned at Dean, turning back to open the door.

“You are so dead,” Dean whispered, as they followed Ted inside.

Oh my gosh hahahahahahah this part was GREAT XD

[party_girl077]

Love this! So true to character and I could totally picture that last scene in the show

[MissBayliss]

“So, this’ll be your first place?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, taking point on this one for Dean’s sake, “We move around a lot, so, it’ll be good to settle down somewhere.”

“Mm-hm,” Ted hummed, “And how long you two been together?”

Dean punched Sam in that arm, hard. The silence made Ted turn around and Dean pretended to be fixing Sam’s hair.

“Feels like forever,” he grinned.

Ted smiled warmly, turned back around. Dean flogged Sam in that back of the head.

“Ow, son of a -”

Gahhhhh!!!!!! *flails frantically in mad laughter* You know just how to make my day!

I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT!

So glad you like it Thank for the continued support! YOU'RE the best

That last scene was my favorite ever! I've been following this like crazy. So happy it's still going!

Thank you so much, Sen! I love all your work and have done for a while now. Means a lot coming from you. Respect

Really really good.

Thanks so much! <3

“Yeah,” Sam said, taking point on this one for Dean’s sake, “We move around a lot, so, it’ll be good to settle down somewhere.”

“Mm-hm,” Ted hummed, “And how long you two been together?”

Dean punched Sam in that arm, hard. The silence made Ted turn around and Dean pretended to be fixing Sam’s hair.

“Feels like forever,” he grinned.

Ted smiled warmly, turned back around. Dean flogged Sam in that back of the head.

“Ow, son of a -”

“Sorry, did you say something?” Ted turned again, as he unlocked the front door.

“Oh, nothing,” Sam shrugged, “Just saying how much Dean’ll love the garden. Marigolds are his favourite.”

Sam smiled smugly, could feel Dean’s gaze burning a hole in the back of his head, in the same place where he smacked him. Because, of course, it was his fault this guy thought they were a couple.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ted grinned at Dean, turning back to open the door.

“You are so dead,” Dean whispered, as they followed Ted inside.

Oh my gosh hahahahahahah this part was GREAT XD

Thanks! The boys can be so funny. I love to write comedy scenes for them Glad you liked this one!

Love this! So true to character and I could totally picture that last scene in the show

That's such an awesome compliment. Thank you!

[MissBayliss]

Here's just a short bit because I love you all and I want to update so badly! Sorry it's rough. Will be sad to end this one but it has a while to go yet

***

Dean followed Sam inside, the three steps up to the front door had him panting and he leant on the wall as he caught his breath, trying to look like he was leaning. Trying and failing.

“Are you alright?” Ted asked, his eyes looking slightly worried, probably by the way Dean’s breath was sawing.

Dean waved a hand, and stood up straight. Sam grabbed him under the elbow when he saw him teeter.

“We can do this later, boys? This afternoon, if that would be better?”

“No, no,” Sam said, “He’s fine. We’ve just been in bed a little too long. Cooped up inside... You right, Dean?”

“Fit as a fiddle,” he rasped, “Go on, Teddy. You gonna show us the place or not?” Dean wriggled free from Sam’s grip and waltzed on into the main lounge/kitchen area, muffling a cough into his elbow.

“He always this stubborn?” Ted mumbled in Sam’s direction.

“You have no idea.”

Sam and Ted joined Dean in the kitchen.

“It’s got a walk-in pantry,” Ted beamed.

Sam’s ears pricked up, “Oh yeah, we’re all about space. Does this place have a basement, or an attic?”

“It has both actually!”

“Well, we have to see those,” Sam smiled, feigning enthusiasm. He just wanted this hunt to be over as quickly as possible.

Ted nodded, “Of course.”

Dean stood in the walk-in pantry, looking out at them, “Now?” he growled, a little too aggressively. He was obviously dead on his feet, feeling like shit, and he kept rubbing his chest.

“Oh, sure,” Ted’s mouth turned down, and he began walking towards the back of the house.

“Dude, take it easy,” Sam nudged Dean with his elbow.

“What?” Dean gaped, “There’s a ghost in this house, Sam. I’d like to get this done as quickly as possible.”

“I hear ya, man, just... Take it easy on Ted. He seems like a nice guy...”

“He thinks we’re gay, Sam.” Dean’s eyes were slits.

Sam rolled his eyes and went after Ted before he thought something suspicious was going on.

“It’s a little dark down there. We’ll have that light bulb changed though,” he stood at the open door to the basement.

“That’s fine, mind if we take a look?”

Ted frowned, “I don’t really like taking people down there but I’ll head down with you.”

Sam understood. Health and safety whatnots. But he didn’t appreciated being babysat while he was hunting for a lost leg, with an aggressive ghost. Him and Dean were pretending to want to buy this house, that put them as immediate threats to Angela’s husband. As well as lovely Ted, who was showing around the possible buyers.

Sam shrugged, allowing Ted to go down the stairs first, illuminating the stairs with the light from his phone.

Dean was coming down last and when all three of them were at the bottom Sam turned to face Dean.

Dean coughed and leant against the wall. Sam and Ted both reached out when he started to slide, his eyes shut.

“Woah, hey, Dean. You alright?” Sam grabbed him, holding him against his chest. He was a little warm, but not as warm as he had been.

“Water,” he groaned, a hand pressed against his forehead. He glanced sidelong at Sam, his intent clear now. Sam got it.

“Ted can you grab us some water, please?”

Ted looked at Dean, then back at Sam, worry and confusion on his face.

“Now,” Sam ordered as Dean fell against him even more.

Ted jumped a little and hurried up the stairs.

Dean stood up immediately, “Get looking in those boxes, will ya? Before he comes back.”

Sam did what he said, “Would have been nice of you to let me know your plan, Dean. Thought you were really going down there...”

Dean shrugged, pulling out the EMF meter.

Sam pulled open another box, so far, nothing.

“Hut’schuu! Het’schkeww! Huk’kcsxoo!” Sam crumpled over, cupping his face in his hands.

“Don’t you start up,” Dean moaned, “We were doing so well...”

“Shut uhh- up. Het’schoo! It’s dusty down here.”

Dean flicked it on. It hummed it’s high pitched tone.

“We got company,” he coughed, cuffed a hand under his nose.

Sam pulled open the last two boxes, completely up ending them “Dude, it’s not here...”

“Well, it’s somewhere...”

*Crash*

“What was that?”

“Oh, shit. Ted.”

***

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

*flailing with laughter* I love where this is going!

This whole story needs a star rating.

[Sawyer]

The dialogue in this part was so spot-on! I could hear their voices so clearly, and I know people say this all the time but it really DID feel like I was watching the show, just because of how well you captured their relationship dynamic (especially when working) through all the banter. And oh my god, the dust thing!

[HPG]

“Hut’schuu! Het’schkeww! Huk’kcsxoo!” Sam crumpled over, cupping his face in his hands.

“Don’t you start up,” Dean moaned, “We were doing so well...”

“Shut uhh- up. Het’schoo! It’s dusty down here.”

Perfect Supernatural-ness.

[Always-a-Ginger]

It has been said but the dialogue is so well done

[MissBayliss]

I am so ridiculously grateful for all the amazing feedback. Love you all.

I hope this next part is okay, I'm not too good with all the action stuff, I will get back to schmoopy sneezy goodness as the fic wraps up. Promise.

Hope you like it

***

Dean struggled up the stairs behind Sam. He had faked his little episode to get Teddy out of the basement, but it didn’t mean he didn’t feel like keeling over. Just dropping onto the stairs and letting someone else pull his unconscious body out and back to the hospital. His chest ached. He pretended to be fiddling with the EMF meter while Sam was searching the boxes because he really didn’t have enough energy for anything else. He was an idiot. Because now Martin the not-so-friendly asshat ghost was after Ted, and Sam, and him. And he was so not at the top of his game, he was at the very bottom of his game, in fact.

He must have been delirious, because he’d pulled his Colt .45 out of his waistband, and what the hell was that going to do against a ghost?

“Ted!” Sam shouted.

Dean rounded his big little brother where he’d stopped, to see Ted fall from somewhere. He must have been pinned on the wall... Or ceiling. Water was streaming down the wall to the right of him, just above a mess of shattered glass and flowers.

“Dean, get him outta here. I’ll find the leg.”

As the words left Sam’s mouth all the doors in the house slammed and dead bolted, in an eerie chorus of clunks.

Dean shook his head.

Ted was coughing and gasping on the ground, like an invisible hand had been wrapped around his throat. He seemed okay, just freaked the hell out.

“We didn’t even come in here with salt, Sam...” Dean wheezed, clutched his gun tighter, pressed a fist into his sternum.

“Shit, Dean. Just... Stay with him. I’ll find it,” Sam was already heading upstairs.

“What the hell?” Ted choked out.

“Just relax, Teddy,” Dean patted him on the back.

“The - I just... What!?” He struggled to his feet.

“We’ll explain later,” Dean coughed, doubling over, pain erupting in his chest, lungs convulsing.

“Jesus, you’re really...”

“GET OUT!”

Dean snapped up, aiming the gun at the flickering image of a man in front of the both of them.

“This is my house.”

Then he disappeared.

“Shit,” Dean muttered, grabbing Ted by the back of his shirt and running towards the front of the house.

He looked at the front door. That door was not budging.

“Ted, does this house have a fire place?”

Ted stared at him. Dean shook him.

“Ted! Get it together! Is there a fireplace?”

“Uh, yes... In the family...”

“Show me,” Dean cut him off, “Now.”

Ted and Dean ran to the back of the house, ducking to avoid the chair that was launched over their heads to explode against the wall.

Dean ran to the fire place and grabbed an iron, turning to rest his back against the wall, he was covered in sweat. He tucked his gun away and wrapped both hands around the iron. His grip felt loose, like his fingers wouldn’t cooperate properly.

“What was that?” Ted asked, staring at him.

Dean shook his head, Not now, he thought. He could barely get a breath, let alone throwing talking into the mix.

“You can’t take my house.”

Martin was back. Standing in the door way.

“Get back, Ted,” Dean waved a hand and Ted backed up against the wall.

“Look, Martin,” Dean stood, unsteadily, took a shuddering breath and held back a cough, “I get it. It sucks that you’re dead. And now your house is gone... But it is gone. And these people aren’t doing anything wrong,” he swallowed, “You gotta let it go, man.”

Martin’s figure flickered, and then was suddenly closer.

Just then Sam’s voice bellowed from upstairs.

“It’s not here, Dean! It’s gotta be something else!”

What else could it be? Dean thought, gripping the iron tighter.

“Martin, stop.”

Angela was standing in the door way, where her husbands ghost had just been standing a moment ago.

“Stop this now,” she was tear stained, her bottom lip quivering, but she was strong in her stance.

Martin turned to face her, and Dean sagged, his body shaking with overexertion.

“Ange...” he sighed, “But they...”

“It’s over,” she said, finally.

The fire place suddenly burst alight, flames blasting out at both Dean and Ted. They both fell back on the floor. The fall must have knocked the wind out of Dean, because, god, he couldn’t breathe.

Martin was gone for the moment, and Sam came running in, crouching at Dean’s side.

“Breathe, Dean, you’re alright.”

Dean wanted to make some smart ass comment, show Sam who was really the boss, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t.

He rolled onto his side and coughed, feeling the world warp and fade around him.

He finally seemed to get a lung full, and Sam pulled him up to stand, a bracing hand on his shoulder.

“Martin!” Angela shouted towards the ceiling, “Leave these boys alone!”

The house started to shake, and the wind picked up around them.

“It’s the house,” Dean panted, grabbing Sam’s arm, “It’s the house he’s attached to.”

Fire still spurted from the fire place and lapped up the walls. Martin was taking the house down with him, so it seemed.

“Angela!” Sam called over the wind, “We gotta go!”

Ted was wide eyed, huddled against the wall.

“Get him,” Dean ordered, making his way towards Angela. She grabbed him and he leant gratefully against her, thankful that she was taking at least some of the weight, because he really couldn’t even walk straight.

Sam was pushing Ted ahead of him, a hand fisted around the back of his shirt, an iron armed in the other hand.

Dean was surprised to find the door open. That must have been how Angela got in, in the first place. All four of them managed to push through it as the windows exploded and the house shook dangerously.

Angela was still supporting Dean as they ran out onto the front lawn, just as Dean’s legs gave out.

“Dean,” she was saying in his ear, “Dean, honey...”

Sam was at his other side and he felt his wandering eyes find his. His brother was squatted next to him, a hand on his back. He turned his gaze to a frightened Ted standing a few metres away.

They all made it out.

He let his head find Sam’s chest. Everyone was safe for now. He felt the world slip, his eyes rolling back in his head. And he was gone again. A moment of painless bliss.

***

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

The love...This story is love. I will never stop reading it. the characters are written beautifully and the amount of brotherly bonding is just perfect.

I'm running out of words to compliment...

[Hedgehog]

Wow, there was really good action in this chapter. Quite gripping. I like it that you write much more than *only* a sick-fic here.

[CHOCOLATE <3]

holy crap holy crap holy crap holy crap

DEAN! NOOOOOOOOOOO! WAKE UP, DUDE

[HPG]

DEAN!!!!!

[party_girl077]

I would also like to say "Dean, honey" into his ear right now

[MissBayliss]

***

Sam felt Dean’s head thunk against his chest and he knew his brother was out. He’d barely kept it together enough to get out of the house. Sam saw the way he’d been leaning on Angela, using her small frame as a walking stick.

Sam was running on adrenaline. Crashing noises could be heard from inside the house and Sam could smell smoke now. He was sure the house was burning, which, to be honest, wouldn’t be such a bad thing. At least it made their jobs easier. They’d come back and do a cleansing ritual just to make sure, as long as the house was in ruins by then.

He grabbed his brother’s face.

“Dean. Dean, wake up, man. Please. I can’t carry you, Dean...”

He pleading, trying not to sound so helpless. His hand tapped Dean’s cheek, while Angela was checking his pulse and breathing.

A tentative hand tapped his shoulder and he looked up at Ted, who had his phone out.

“You need me to call 911?”

“No,” Sam answered, way too quickly, “It’s fine. He’s fine.”

He didn’t want the cops here, not with the house on fire and Angela here and Dean passed out on the ground. Angela’d lose everything. And they really couldn’t risk Dean going to hospital again, even though he probably needed it. He looked back to his brother, holding his head in both hands.

“Dean, please. I need you, man. Wake up...”

Dean stirred. That was a sure way to get through to his brother.

“S’mmy...” he groaned, eyes flicking open and then closed again, against the brightness of the sun, “You okay?”

Sam smiled, “Yeah,” he huffed, “Yeah, I’m okay... Can you get up?”

Sam motioned to Ted to help him. Angela was too small and too frail and he didn’t want her hurting herself hauling his big brother’s 180 pound, solid muscle ass.

Dean nodded, but clench his teeth and moaned when they lifted him, an arm slung over each of their shoulders. Dean coughed, and almost fell back down but Sam put a hand on his chest and held him upright until the fit passed. He could feel Dean’s chest rattling, could feel the mucus and infection swimming in his lungs as he drew each breath only to cough it out harder.

“Just breathe. Easy, Dean. You’re okay.”

“Easy... for you... to say,” he panted in between ragged breaths.

Sam smiled. At least the snark was back, that was a good sign.

“So much for keeping your germs to yourselves, hey?” Ted joked.

Sam ignored him. Now was not the time.

Angela opened the back door of the impala so they could lie him down. She got in on the other side, her hip just at his head. She was stroking his back up and down, and speaking to him softly. Sam turned to Ted.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call anyone until that house is down, unless it looks like it could get dangerous... And we... We were never here, understand?”

He didn’t seem to.

“We have guns,” Sam said, nodding at Ted, “And we will find you. So, there’s no such things as ghosts. That house is better destroyed. And we don’t exist. Okay?”

Ted nodded quickly, his eyes panicked, “Sure thing. No one would believe me anyway, right?”

“Right,” Sam said, and turned to get in the car.

Ted was a nice guy and he didn’t like to be mean to him or threaten him, but he was just so exhausted and Dean was passed out in the back seat and he just couldn’t. He couldn’t do any more.

“Is he alright?” Sam asked, looking at Ange in the rear view.

“I think so,” she bit her lip, “You’re not taking him to the hospital, are you?”

Sam shook his head, beyond speech now.

She nodded like she understood. Sam stepped on the gas, watching the flames lap out the windows in his side mirror.

***

Dean had been more or less malleable when they’d gotten him back to the motel. He’d curled up in bed and just gone to sleep, accepting the meds that were pressed upon him. Sam was beat too. The adrenaline had worn off by the time they’d got Dean settled, and he collapsed on his bed, being reminded that he too was sick when his nose decided to block up and run at the same time, and what had he done to deserve that brand of torture? He was sure he was running a mild fever again, so he popped two tylenol and went to sleep. Angela was still in the room, she had told him what she was doing but he couldn’t remember now, or he hadn’t really listened in the first place. Either way, she was looking after them. And that was probably good therapy for her as well, after seeing her dead husband. All Sam knew was that he could sleep, because someone was watching out for Dean...

***

“Huh’ESCHuuu! Het’KSCHooo! HUTCXHUuu!”

Sam woke to three thunderous sneezes, and pressed his eyes closed tighter, not quite ready to be awake yet. Unfortunately, the world came into sharper focus as he remembered the days previous events. He could hear the TV on quietly in the background, noises in the kitchen, and then his brother blowing his nose. He gave up and admitted defeat, rolling over to stare blearily at Dean, who was sitting propped up on pillows in his bed.

“Ah, it’s awake,” *god awful cough*, “Thought you were gonna sleep right through dinner,” Dean was smiling, his face pasty white, his lips chapped and nose red raw. The three day growth on his face helped the disheveled look he was going for, and his voice sounded like he’d been gargling drainO.

“Well, you look awesome,” Sam sighed, flopping back on his pillow.

“You ain’t a picture yourself, sweetheart. HUT’SCHKeww! God...”

“Leave your brother alone. He’s been running himself ragged, looking after you. Sam, dear, how are you feeling?”

Angela appeared at his side, apron smeared with various food stains.

He cleared his throat, “I feel okay, just... exhausted.”

She pressed a hand against his head, “Hm, your fever’s gone. You hungry for dinner?”

“God, yes,” he moaned, running a hand down his face and giving a thick sniff.

“Dude,” Dean threw the tissue box onto his bed.

Sam grabbed a couple and blew his nose, and sniffed experimentally, “What’s for dinner?”

“Tomato rice soup, Dean’s request,” she said, getting back to the kitchenette.

Sam couldn’t help but turn the corner of his mouth up in a fond smirk. Dean may not have remembered his fevered ramblings about their mother but Sam sure did.

“Great,” Sam sighed. He looked at Dean, “You good, man?”

Dean ran a hand across his chest unconsciously, “Yeah, I’m gettin’ there. Can still feel all this crap in my chest though... And I cah-can’t stop... HET’KCSHOoo! Son of a bitch...”

“Bless ya,” Sam rolled over onto his back, feeling the mucus drip down his throat.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean moaned.

Sam wanted to tell him to stop using his voice, or he’d probably lose it again but his own throat hurt too much, and to be honest, he wanted to hear his brother’s voice, albeit a little raspy.

It was quiet for a few minutes, aside from Angela humming as she made dinner, until Dean started coughing again. It went on so long Angela got him a glass of water and Sam was half way up to help him when it stopped, not that he could do much but pat him on the back.

Dean put a hand up, “I’m good... shit,” he rubbed his chest.

“Dude, tell me if we need to go back to the hospital...”

“We’re not going to the damn hospital,” he growled.

Sam put both hands up, surrendering, before plopping back down on his bed. He wasn’t down long before he hastily reached for the tissues.

“Hit’SCXHUuu! HET’ESCHOo!”

“Gesundheit,” Dean mumbled, offhandedly.

Sam eyes drifted to the TV that Dean was so fixated on.

“Is this that James Dean documentary?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, man. You’ve seen this like a hundred times.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s awesome.”

Sam huffed, but secretly didn’t mind. He liked the moments of predictability, of normality even.

“Soup’s on,” Angela smiled, bringing over two steaming bowls.

“You know, you really didn’t have to do this,” Sam said, gratefully accepting the bowl.

“Shush, now, Sammy. She wanted to. Don’t stop the woman.”

Sam grimaced at his brother. Angela just laughed.

“It’s fine, boys. I didn’t really want to be alone right now anyway, after... well, you know,” her eyes became wet, and she shook her head, “Besides, you seriously can’t expect me to believe you can look after yourselves,” she laughed.

“We’ve done alright so far,” Dean said. Sam looked at him to see a tight smile, understanding the seriousness of the words.

“That you have,” Angela said, handing him his soup, “Now, eat your soup and go to sleep. And, for god sake, put the bowl down if you’re going to sneeze.”

That one got a laugh from both of them.

***

Apologies for any mistakes, once again Not many parts left now. I know we're winding up, but I'll be sad to have to finish it

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

Nooooooooo!!!!!!!! This can't end! I forbid this story to EVER end!

By the way, have I mentioned how much I love this story?

[HPG]

for god sake, put the bowl down if you’re going to sneeze.”

That one got a laugh from both of them.

Loved it as always! This quote was especially wonderful. :-)

[MissBayliss]

Sorry, it's taken me so long to update. Sort of had a bit of writers block. Next part is coming soon though, and if you really want I can drag it out just a little longer... you know, if you want

[ildh]

As much as possible please. This is amazing.

[MissBayliss]

The next time Sam woke up it was dark, middle of the night dark. He was lying on his side facing Dean’s bed. They were alone in the room now, but Dean’s bed was empty and the bathroom light was on.

Sam blinked, rubbed his forehead and cleared his throat, “Dean?”

“Mm?” he heard a groan.

He got up and stumbled sleepily to the bathroom door, just to make sure his brother wasn’t passed out on the floor or something. Dean was standing at the sink, he turned to look at Sam, swayed slightly and caught himself on the vanity.

“Why are you up?”

“It’s called ‘peeing’, nurse,” he stepped towards the door and put a hand on the doorframe.

Sam could see how shaky he was on his legs. Dean took another step and pitched forward, bracing both hands, either side of the doorframe.

“Woah,” he said, shaking his head.

“Geez, Dean. Here, let me help,” Sam grabbed his brother’s arm and walked him back to his bed, countering every time Dean swayed the other way.

“You need to take it easy for a while, man. You’re beat.”

The fact that Dean had accepted his help so readily meant it was true and he must still be feeling pretty awful. Sam was getting the feeling this wouldn’t be one of those things his brother could just shake off. Dean just flopped onto the bed on his back and nodded. Sam filled a glass of water and left it on the night stand next to his brother, whose eyes were already closed.

“Get some sleep,” he said, patting him on the shoulder and getting back into his own bed.

He lay there listening to Dean breathe. Now that he was awake and taking stock of himself he realised the tickle in his nose. And this was so not a good time, cause Dean really needed uninterrupted sleep right now. He rubbed at his nose furiously, praying for the tickle to subside.

“Huh..” he buried his face in his blanket, “huh’scxhu!”

He was lying on his side, facing away from his brother, but he heard him sniff, and roll over, but maybe still asleep... If only...

“heh’schew! huh’itcxhu!”

“Sam...” Dean groaned, through the darkness.

“S-sorry, heh’schuu! hut’sxkhoo!”

He heard Dean roll over again. The blanket was shoved so hard against his face, trying to push back the itch.

“You alright?”

Sam sniffed, tried to gain some composure, “Yeah... Shit. Huh’tscho!”

Both were silent for a while, apart from the ragged breathing.

“You done?” Dean asked, not sounding pissed off, just dog tired.

“I think so,” Sam sighed, sniffing again.

“G’night, Sammy.”

Sam felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, “Night, Dean.”

***

Neither of them stayed asleep for long. They managed to catch a few hours in between bouts of coughing and sneezing. Sam didn’t feel so bad since Dean was doing most of the waking up anyway. His cough sounded awful, and Dean wasn’t really getting any relief from it. He was supposed to be coughing it out though, all the mucus and infection. So, it was a good thing, right? Sam wasn’t so sure.

Dean was caught in the middle of another bout just as the sun was coming up, bleeding light into the room that had turned into a hot bed of disease. His muscles quivered beneath the blankets he had piled on himself.

“God, Sam. This sucks...” he said, roughly, rolling onto his back and massaging his chest.

“I know,” was all Sam could come back with. He wanted to say something more encouraging but he was tired too, right now the nightmares were the least of his troubles.

Dean shot forward with a powerful sneeze, catching it in his hands, “Huh’SCTHUuu!”

“Bless,” Sam groaned, rolling over.

“Uh, Sam...” Dean said, congestedly.

“Mm?”

“Where are the tissues?” he sniffed.

Sam rolled over and pointed to the box on Dean’s bed, “They’re right there.”

“It’s empty,” Dean shook his head, hands still clamped around his face.

Sam sighed, flopping his head back on the pillow, before slowly getting up to grab a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom and chucking it at his brother’s head.

“Thanks,” Dean mumbled.

Sam drifted back to sleep for a few more hours, he could hear Dean up and down, aware of him struggling, but simply too tired to get him water and pat his back just at the moment. He woke up for good when Dean hurled the toilet paper roll at him.

“Dean, what the hell?”

His brother was standing at the end of his bed, dressed for the day, clean and shaved, and waggling the empty tissue box in his hand. He still looked like week old road kill, but at least he was making an effort.

“We need supplies,” he croaked.

Sam pulled himself up to sit, rubbed two hands over his face.

“And you stink...”

***

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

The love. So much love. So much love.

Oh goodie! A supply run! This should definitely be interesting! Heeheeheehee......

[HPG]

Oh man, a supply run should be interesting at the least.