It Makes Sense in His Head, 2 (SPN, Sam's turn)

[Anilkex]

Back in August, I wrote this fic called It Makes Sense In My Head. I mentioned a loopy Sam sequel, there was some interest, so...

xxxxx

Dean likes doing the laundry. Forced down time in small doses keeps him going. The View was on TV when Dean arrives, one of his secret favorite shows. After feeding the machines, he pulls up a plastic chair, and settles in to watch with a bag of candy from the vending machine. The hosts were talking about taking time for oneself every day to reflect, reassess, and recharge. Dean nods along, because he sees laundry time as his own mini vacation, which he gets to take even when things are shitty, smelly, and bleak as fuck.

Those chicks are so fucking smart.

Whoopie’s going off on some famous asshole who cheated on his wife when there’s a loud banging, followed by a horrific grinding noise. Dean reaches for his gun, dropping the candy and releasing a dozen multi-colored spheres in a dozen different directions across the grungy floor.

“Oh, dammit! Troy! Machine number four’s out again!” A plump, pleasant woman waddles from behind a counter over to the machine, clucking her tongue and shaking her head. “Stupid, worthless machine. Shoulda replaced you last month.”

Swallowing his heart back into his chest, Dean releases his grip on the gun that’s halfway out of his pants, and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. He’s about to sit back down when he realizes - Aw, shit - machine number four is his machine.

His vacation just got rained on.

The woman stops in front of it, then takes a couple steps back as a growing puddle appears at her feet. She sighs. “Who was using this machine?”

Dean actually raises his hand. “Uh - that’d be me…”

The woman sighs again, gesturing at the obviously broken machinery. “I’m so sorry, sir. This machine’s been so fussy lately...you’d think it was haunted.” Dean tilts his head at it. “I’m gonna have to move you to a different washer.”

Ohhhhh, wait…”I, uh, am gonna need some soap, then. I used the last of mine on that load.” They both jumped as the machine belts out one last protesting groan, shaking back and forth and spewing said soap out of the top.

Maybe the bastard is haunted…

The woman waved a hand at him. “That’s no problem at all. I have some you can use. Now, let’s get your stuff into a washer that will actually clean your clothes…”

xxxxx

When Dean arrives back at the motel, he’s doing a lot better. The nice woman refunded all his money, so three loads of laundry cost nothing, not to mention the free candy and soda she gave as well.

Sam texted a while ago that he was heading out for a run, so Dean pops open a beer and starts putting the clothes away, stacking Sam’s on his bed so the fussy little princess can put his own shit away however he wants, and stowing his in his duffel. The towels and blankets are already packed in the Impala’s trunk.

Thunder rumbles overhead, so Dean turns on the news to check the weather. They were supposed to head out tonight after dinner, but if the weather is bad…

Dean listens, slack jawed, to the well-dressed man prattle about fronts, jet streams, and barometric pressure. When the nightly forecast appears, complete with pictures, he perks up, taking a swig of his drink and frowning when he sees the heavy rainfall predicted.

Stuck here another night, then.

Blech.

The door opens, and in walks Sam, sweaty and panting. “Hey...how was your vacation?”

Dean belches, thumping his chest. “Awesome. Machine broke down, had to switch to a new one, and got the whole shebang for free.”

Sam tosses his keys on the table and pulls his shirt off. “Nice. So, the weather is shit…”

Dean gestures at the TV with his beer bottle. “Yeah, I saw. Should probably hang here tonight, head out in the morning.”

Sam nods. “Yeah, sounds good. We don’t have a job right now, so there’s no rush. Let me take a shower, then we’ll grab dinner.”

“Sounds good.”

xxxxx

“Hiiih-HehShhhhyuu!”

“Jesus, bless you. You coming down with something?”

Sam shakes his head, pressing a napkin to his nose. “Don’t...don’t thiiii… thinksoHehhhSchhhyuuu!”

Dean glances around, trying to figure out why Sam’d been sneezing so much. Throughout dinner, Sam dropped his fork, twice, spilled his water, and went through an entire canister of napkins because of it.

“Well something’s up, man.”

Sam presses his fingers to his temple and sniffles. “Doh clue...I cad’t stop. Hiiihhh-hrshhhyuu! I sbell flowers or sobething, but I cad’t tell where they are.”

Dean frowns. There are no flowers anywhere in the diner. He leaves some cash on the table. “Well, let’s get outta here. Maybe the fresh air will help.”

Nodding, Sam sneezes into his arm before slowly getting to his feet. Another sneeze catches him off guard, and he almost bumps into a waitress carrying a whole tray of food. Luckily, Dean grabs his arm, pulling him over, and avoiding a catastrophe. It was pretty amazing, and Dean’s about to comment on just that, when a strong floral scent hits him.

“What the - “ He looks around again, but finds nothing.

It took a second, but he finally figures it out.

Sam’s clothes. The smell was coming from his clothing. Sam’s nose is already scrunched up again, and he’s in the middle of bringing his arm up to cover his face when Dean pushes hard, startling the sneeze into a corner long enough to propel Sam outside, where he bends over and lets loose.

“Hih’SCHHEW! Hh’HRSHCHH-uh! TSCHCH! HISHHH! KIHSCHCHuhh!”

Dean drags a hand down his face, helplessly watching his brother pitch forward. When it looks like he’s slowing down, Dean places a hand on Sam’s back. “C’mon, Sammy...I know how to fix this…”

xxxxx

Thirty minutes later, they’re back at the motel, Sam showered and changed into a pair of Dean’s sweats and t-shirt that weren’t washed in the evil soap. Dean ducked out to grab some large plastic garbage bags, so he could gather up all of Sam’s stuff and rewash it tomorrow.

He waves a box of extra-strength allergy relief medicine in front of Sam. "Hey...take some of this."

Sam heads back into the bathroom, head shaking and breath hitching. "Don't ... I ... Heh...Hiiihattschhh! Heschhhhyuu!" He sniffles. "Don'tneedtoHetschchh! JesusChrist-HNGXT!" The door shuts, and Dean hears three more belt out, followed by a nose blow.

Like hell, he doesn't need it. Dean crosses the room, crushes the pills and slips the powder into a cup of soda. He threw in one extra, just to make sure Sam sleeps this off.

xxxxx

Almost an hour later, Sam's sneezing has slowed. Dean can feel the relief radiating from his brother, as breathing now takes place, mostly without interruption. He flips through the channels until he finds an episode of Stargate. He sets the remote on the nightstand and gets comfortable with a package of peanut butter cups.

He's just starting to nibble at the chocolate coating when Sam announces, “I really don’t think I am.”

Chocolate cup firmly between his teeth, Dean’s eyes swivel toward his brother. Sam’s just laying there, eyes fixed on the TV. Dean finishes the bite and chews slowly, waiting for a follow-up. When none is forthcoming, he offers, “You really don’t think you’re what? Gay?” He chuckles and continues stripping the remaining candy down to the peanut butter.

Come on - Sam left himself wide open.

And then Sam ruins it.

“Yeah.”

Dean almost chokes on the chocolate melting in his mouth. “What?!”

“I said, I really don’t think I’m gay. I mean, there was that one time at school with Frank Vandelman, but I was so drunk that I don’t think it counts. Not that we did anything. I was just sort of looking him over from across the room while drinking this amazing drink that my friend Allison made with this rum her parents gave her from while they were in Mexico. I think there was pineapple juice in it, and even though I absolutely fucking hate pineapple juice, the drink was really good and you could hardly taste the pineapple in it, which is probably why I really liked it. I think I had, like, four of them. Still wasn’t enough to make me do anything with Frank, but I did check him out.”

The room fell silent, except for the sound of the Stargate clicking into place. Dean pops the rest of the cup into his mouth, thoughtfully sucking the chocolate off his fingers. He can only think of one response. “You were interested in a guy named Frank?”

“Yeah. No. I mean, he was kinda cute.”

Oh, well, okay then…?

Dean frowns, still sorting this out. “Kinda cute?”

“I dunno. Maybe? In a Daniel Jackson sort of way, only he wasn’t blond and he didn’t wear glasses and he was a political science major, not a scientist, even though both majors have the word science in them, so technically they’re sort of related, kind of like second cousins, although I’m not sure that could actually be validated by actually looking at their actual definitions. And I’m not even sure you could classify majors like you would family members, but in some cases, I think it kinda works. And maybe he was kinda cute, but like I said, I was really drunk, you know?”

There’s a slight pause.

Dean scratches his head. “Yeah, I got that memo with the pineapple juice and everything. You okay, Sammy?” He wipes his hand on a blanket and turns to face his brother, who’s still staring at the TV, head tilted on a pillow, legs sprawled all over the bed.

Sam nods. “I was afraid you’d hate me if I was gay, so I’m really glad I don’t think I am.”

Dean sits up, completely confused, now. “Waitasec - why would I - “

“I mean, you’d still love me and everything because I’m your brother and Dad told you to love me and take care of me, but I think it would’ve been one more thing you’d have had to deal with, you know? You have a hard enough time dealing with me now. If we added being gay to the already long list of shit I have going on, I think it’d push you over the edge. Although I guess we’d have a whole bunch of new bars we could scam at. But I don’t think I am, so it’s okay.”

Head spinning, Dean swings his legs to the floor. Where the fuck did Sam get the idea that he’d hate him if he was gay? Sam knows better than that. Dean could give a shit about that stuff. He wasn’t one of those - holdon.

Hold.

On.

First off, Dean’s not sure why he’s even entertaining the crap coming out of Sam’s mouth. Second, there’s a lot of crap coming out of Sam’s mouth.

Third…

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Yeah, Dean?”

“Before, when I asked you if you wanted some allergy meds, you said you didn’t need any. Why’d you say that?”

Sam blinks. “Because I already took some. An extra one, even.”

Dean nods his head, hands over his face. Of course. Of course, Sam already took the meds. Sam’s an adult. Sam knows how to deal with shit like this. Dean’s still sneaking around trying to get Sam to do what Dean thinks is best, like Sam’s ten fucking years old.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dean sighs. Way to go, Dean. Way. To. Go.

He’s so fucked. Loopy Sam won’t shut up for, like, ever.

“I still like the marshmallows, though.”

“Okay, Sam. Let’s...let’s stop talking about it, okay? How about...how about we just watch TV? Enjoy the quiet, peaceful night?”

Sam muffles a stray sneeze into his blanket. “It’s never quiet when I’m around. You know that. Drives you nuts. Drove Dad nuts all the time. That’s one reason why he hated me. I was always questioning him, challenging him, pushing every button he had, being a pain in the ass. I only trusted you, even when you agreed with him, and that upset him even more so of course he hated me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Dean rolls his eyes to the heavens, asking for mercy. “Dad never hated you, Sam.” He immediately regrets opening his mouth, forgetting that two minutes ago, he he told himself not to engage with Sam when he’s like this.

“No, he did. I know he...heh...hiiihschhuuuu! did. It’s okay, I don’t blame him. I’m a pain in the ass. Like the time when I was in second grade and I gave you that haircut because I heard you tell Dad you wanted to look cool in your math class for some girl whose name I can’t remember. You were so mad at me. It’s like that.”

Dean sighs, digging his fingers into his thighs, wondering what he can do to stop the onslaught of Sam’s innermost thoughts. That’s when he gets a brilliant idea. Cas could come. Cas could use his angel mojo and clear the offending drugs from Sam’s system.

It’s brilliant.

He grabs the empty candy wrapper and wads it up. “Hey, Sammy, how about we invite Cas to hang with us?”

Sam’s face wrinkles up. “Cas doesn’t like me. I’m tainted and dirty to him. No, wait - unclean. That’s the word. I’m unclean.” He turns his Eyes on Dean. “I shower way more than you, but I’m unclean because of my blood. I can’t shower my blood.” He turns back to the TV. “I tried, once. Maybe I’m allergic to pineapple juice. I threw up a lot the next morning.”

Dean freezes. “He...you....what?”

Sam scrubs at his nose. “Yeah, not the sneezing allergy but the puking one, because I was a real mess and Brady had to make sure I didn’t drown in the toilet. I also found a blood purification ritual in one of Bobby’s old books and tried it, but it didn’t work and Meg told me it’d never go away. I have demon in every part of me because the red blood cells reproduce and - “

“Stop. Sammy...just, stop. Please.” Dean throws the wrapper across the room. Which really ends up flittering to the floor two feet away from him because it unwrapped and floated more than flew. He sits back on the bed, massaging his temples. Chatty Sam gives all sorts of information, which was great when they were little and Dean could find out things like Stanford when Sam doesn’t know he’s spilling.

But this Chatty Sam gave Dean a little too much insight, making him nauseous, depressed and anxious all at once.

Sam shakes his head, stubble rustling against the pillow. “I don’t know why you bother.”

Dean looks up sharply. “Why I bother what?”

“Why you bother still following Dad’s orders to take care of me when it’s clear that I’m the biggest problem in your life.”

Dean blinks at him.

“I can’t even remember what cold medicine you can’t take.”

Ah…That’s where this is going. GuiltySam is the worst.

“Sam - it wasn’t a big deal.” He kicks the wrapper under the bed and shoves Sam over with his hip so he could sit down. “Hey...lookit me.” Dean’s head retreats from the pure force of Sam’s Eyes. Sighing, he reaches out and takes hold of Sam’s chin.

Time to jump in the pool.

“Listen - I didn’t need Dad’s orders to care for you after the first time you said my name. It was game fucking over right then and there. I take care of you because you’re my brother, and I want to. No other reason. You’re the best thing in my life, Sammy, nothin’ll change that. So just...knock it off, okay? Please?”

Sam just blinks at him, eyes slightly unfocused. Dean sighs again, letting go of Sam’s chin and getting comfortable on the bed so he didn’t fall off in his sleep, because he plans on staying close until Sam comes down from this medication high.

Several seconds later, Sam nods, returning to the TV.

Thank you, Dean mentally shouts out to whatever deity might be listening. It’s finally quiet, Daniel Jackson is explaining the scientific whatever behind an environmental phenomenon, and Dean’s eyes start closing.

Until he hears, “Can I tell you a secret?”

He jolts awake, thinking, what now? Why does Sam need permission to tell him something? “Yeah, of course.”

“I like it when you call me Sammy.”

Dean’s breath catches, and he snakes an arm around his brother, pulling Sam’s head to rest against his chest. “I know you do, Sammy. I know you do.”

XXX END XXX

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

...........

*Unintelligible screaming and internal heart explosion*

YOU ARE THE GREATEST PERSON IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!!!!!

I can't even quote because everything is so friggin GOOD!!! The Deanness, the Samness, the loopiness. Perfection at its best!

:heart:

[Sneezy123]

Don't mind me, I'm just crying because I can't handle this amazingness. You give me life, you're such a great writer

[HPG]

Thank you, thank you, thank you! I loved the parallels between this story and the Dean version. It was super cute.

[gingerdean]

Oh my God, what a perfect sequel to your loopy Dean story. I honestly don't even know what to quote, because this was pure gold, from beginning to end. Sam's sneezing fit in the diner was delicious, and I looove the idea of the floral scent of the detergent setting him off. I've also learned that I apparently have a 'thing' for sneezing fits in diners-or more specifically, for Sam and/or Dean sneezing in diners.... (Um, what? Sorry, I digress...) Loopy Sam is hysterical in this, and so endearing. And I loved this part:

I’m unclean.” He turns his Eyes on Dean. “I shower way more than you, but I’m unclean because of my blood. I can’t shower my blood.” He turns back to the TV. “I tried, once. Maybe I’m allergic to pineapple juice. I threw up a lot the next morning.”

lmao, Sam's mind is just drifting off in all different directions, and poor Dean is trying so hard to keep up, but he's just like, wtf? I also have to admit, I spent way too much time thinking about Sam trying "shower his blood" to try to purify himself. So funny, and sooo sad, all at once.

And the last few lines completely melted my heart into a big ol' puddle of heart goo. I can't even with these boys...

[SexualOddity]

Right, okay... I am so sorry I'm late with this but believe me I have been thinking about Sam and this soap allergy almost every day since I read this. So much sexiness!

So here are some things:

1. I love finding out a little bit more about characters and their ordinary day to day lives (When I first saw ToyStory apparently I was like, 'the story was good and everything, but I wanted to see more of them just being toys and having staff meetings and stuff), so I really enjoyed the bit about Dean and the laundry. And it really rang true for his character I thought. To say he has such a miserable existance, he really knows how to take joy in the little things, I think. Plus, even when things are quiet, I guess he never really lets himself take time off from being the big brother (even when he can step back a little... see further: allergy medication) so I can imagine that he would make the most of it when he has the opportunity to take some time to himself.

It's a little sad that he loves that he can still have laundry-time when things are going to shit, because it's like he likes it because it's a chore. If it wasn't - he'd talk himself out of having that time, but that rings completely true for his character and their situation as well, so I loved it even if it hurt a little.

2. Dean's reaction to the suggestion that the washing machine might be haunted is a) adorable and perfect.

3. Sam totally knows about the vacation thing. It's not a big deal. He just knows about it and refers to it and stuff. How wonderful is that? (Very wonderful.)

4. Ohhh God the sneezing. I know you know I love allergies. What I love even more is allergies without a known cause, especially when the allergen is discovered sometime during the course of the fic. It just leads to so much noticing and thinking about symptoms, and that's just the best. You have the whole, 'I'm sneezing' and then 'I'm sneezing a lot' and then 'Why am I sneezing a lot?', and, of course, they can't get away from the allergen because they don't know what it is. It's the BEST! Did I mention it was the best?

5. IT CARRIES ON AFTER A SHOWER! I love that. I mean, I want him to have a shower and everything, but I don't want it to take away the sneezing. Nope. Also the idea that that one encounter trips something in his immune system so then he's just sneezing for ages, even after remedial action. Mmmmmm....

6. Sam is relieved when he stops sneezing. Oh poor Sam. I'm so conflicted between wanting to see him suffer and wanting it to be better. What is wrong with my brain?

7. Sam's version of loopy involves dissecting relationships between College majors. Yes, yes it does.

8. With this one AND the Dean one, you do such a great job of jumping between the funny and the 'oh shit' moments. The 'I was worried you would hate me if I was gay'/'it'd be one more thing about me that you'd have to deal with' is such an 'oh shit' moment. I think it works so well because as much as it's like, 'No. That's clearly not something that would happen', I can kind of almost see how Sam might think that way. And so can Dean. And I guess, on some subconcious level Sam's been thinking/worrying about this since their LuckyStars conversation, and it's really sad that that would even have to go through Sam's mind.

9. The set up to this whole thing is brilliant. I can imagine Dean crumbling the medicine into Sam's drink, thinking that he's helping but needing that reminder that actually Sam can mostly handle himself now. I love how old habits die hard for Dean when it comes to brother-ing.

10. On a much lighter note, you came up with a scenario in which Sam could plausibly use the term 'sneezing allergy' and I love you for it.

11. Oh God, the blood purification ritual. And the way that Dean is just like 'I don't want to hear this' - perfect reaction. And, it just occurred to me how much this must be Hell for Dean. It's like enforced chick-flick-momenting.

12. The wrapper won't even do what Dean wants it to and nothing is going right.

13. Sam had continued to feel guilty about the mix up with the cold medicine. You're wrong Dean, guilty Sam is the best. (It's because he cares.)

14. I squealled a little bit at the last line.

I've said this before, but your writing is always just spot on, and you weave such complex ideas into such normal/humourous situations. It's an absolute joy to read. (Also, sometimes there is allergic-Sammy to boot and, you know how I feel about that). Thank you so much for this. And for all the fics. You're awesome.