Secret Santa for PuddinPop! (SPN, M) (2 parts)

[Zwee]

I got PuddinPop for Secret Santa! Happy holidays, lovely!

Just a note—it’s really been a while since I’ve watched or written anything Supernatural, so I may be a little rusty, but it was kinda fun to dust off my SPN-sneezefic-writing skills, so I hope this is on track with what you wanted, PuddinPop. I know how much you love Castiel, so I tried really hard to work him in. I’ve never written him sneezing before, though, and I just didn’t trust myself to get it right, so this one’s going to be all Dean. Hope you still like it!

Tentatively set in S6 when monsters are weird, but no real spoilers, mostly because I don’t really remember what was going on at that point… This will be 2 parts!

~*~*~*~*~

The silence hung between the brothers in the crisp morning air, lazy and thick as the two reluctantly made their way into the functional headspace. The frost-coated trees glimmered cheerily in the half light, and behind them, the hills loomed, creeping over the white ground like gentle, crepuscular giants.

Dean’s head was in a fog.

He watched the tendrils of hair flop slowly into his brother’s face, only to be impatiently shoved back as he pored meticulously over the notes they’d gathered from the public library a few hundred miles ago. The sight was comfortingly familiar to Dean’s tired eyes, so he let himself a moment’s rest, memorizing the ever-constant facets of the top of his brother’s head as his mind grew blank.

“…the victim’s family first, or the morgue?” Sam was asking, raising his head so his eyes met Dean’s glazed over-ones.

“Huh?” Dean snapped back to attention, blinking away the sleep-deprived funk settling heavily in his dully-aching head. His bones hurt.

“Why are you staring at me?” Sam looked apprehensive.

“I wasn’t.” Dean grumbled, turning his eyes back to the scenery before them. The clouds were rolling in, taking away some of the dazzling brilliance from the sun as it ignited the frost. He cleared his throat with a cough that came out much harsher than he’d expected, rasping deep within his chest.

“Are you okay, man?” Sam was pursing his lips, chin jutting out in that annoying way it had when he was concerned.

“’Course.” Dean said, clearing his throat and reaching for the coffee unfurling curls of steam into the cold car’s interior. Then, “Shut up.”

Sam was trying to push the passenger seat back to accommodate his ridiculous lanky form, even though he knew that was as far as it went. Dean watched him, momentarily entertained, and then suddenly irritated. He wanted to throw a jab about his brother’s inconvenient height, but was distracted by his breath catching once more in his lungs, sending him into a coughing fit.

He could practically see Sam’s brain working as he passed his older brother the coffee, and realized, not for the first time, how much time they spent together—so much so that Sam was already piecing together how shitty Dean felt after only a few coughs. He grunted that he was okay before Sam could even ask, and jammed the keys into Baby’s ignition. “Can we go now? It’s freezing.”

He swiped a sleeve beneath his nose, runny in the cold. For a moment, he had a half-delirious longing for one of those blankets with sleeves, and immediately became bewildered at himself. Snorting dubiously at the thought of what Sam would say if he bought a leopard print one for the Impala, he cranked up the heat and hunched his shoulders, grateful at least for his leather jacket.

The drive to the town was both bleak and far too bright. The light barraged his eyes every chance it got, igniting a burn deep within his sinuses, that he knew would manifest itself in due time. He sniffled often, trying to ignore the sidelong glances his brother cast his way.

Dean knew he was coming down with something. Sam probably knew too, but he would just have to wait until Dean was ready to admit it. And that would not be until after they’d talked to the witnesses and seen the body. Probably not even until after they’d solved the case. Possibly never.

~*~*~*~*~

He pulled into a parking spot and waited for Sam to get out and shut the door before his eyes scrunched and his breath hitched twice and then caught ferociously in the back of his throat, pitching forward with two harsh sneezes that made him dizzy. “Hehhihh… Huhh… Hehh’DDZZSHHhuhh! Hehh’ETSCHhuhh!”

He followed after his brother hastily, swiping his nose on his sleeve and wishing he were curled up in bed. Even just not being vertical would be nice. Fueled by thoughts of a nap, provided they got things done, he forced his legs onward to examine the corpse.

Terrence Sheppard had been a nice-looking guy, presumably. He’d aged gracefully, dark eyes remaining young and giving the rest of his face a shimmer of youth—Dean could gather that from the photos he’d seen.

The body, on the other hand, was not nice-looking.

“Grotesque, eh?” The coroner gave the two a look of amusement from the corner where he was perched on a stool.

“Uh, yeah,” Sam wrinkled his nose in distaste, turning back to Dean, who closed the drawer and turned to go. “Thanks, that’s all we needed.”

Sam was walking too fast, talking over his shoulder. “It’s clearly a Chupacabra, right? I mean, the way he was bled dry, with the circular incisions…” Dean had to fight to keep stride with his brother, which incensed him to no end. Why his body refused to cooperate was beyond him.

“Chupacabra this far north?” Dean tried to continue but his nose was itching. When they got outside, the cold air attacked his nose, and he hung back a moment, breath hitching. “Hihh… Hehhihh… Hehh’ETSCHhahh! Hh’DZZSCHHhew!”

Sam stopped what he was saying, eyebrows shooting up. “Crap! Bless you, man.”

Dean knew this would be his tell. His sneezes weren’t usually this loud or this forceful, and only became like this when he was coming down with something. He rolled his eyes in an effort to be nonchalant, and stalked off toward the Impala, trying to keep his shivers under wraps until he could crank the heat.

The victim’s family was next: a wife and two daughters that would still be grieving and likely wouldn’t be in the mood to talk. That was fine, Sam could handle them. He was good at that gentle shit. Dean wanted to talk to the Park Ranger who had found the body anyway. He dropped Sam off at the victim’s house with promises to pick him up in an hour, eager to be rid of his overbearing suspicion for the time being.

~*~*~*~*~

The ranger’s station was only a few miles down the road, but it was nestled in a snow-covered park, adding extra exposure to the elements, and making Dean’s nose run.

He trudged up the path, digging a fast food napkin from the pocket of his jacket, grateful Sam wasn’t there to look at him with his trademark frown of inquisitive concern. He could handle this. He was feeling miserable, with a pounding headache and congestion creeping into his sinuses, his lungs crackling with suppressed coughing fits, but he could handle this.

Just as he reached the front desk, his nose burned with the need to sneeze. Eyes tearing, he shot a warning look at the ranger, who looked back impatiently, hanging up the phone. His breath hitched madly, and Dean took a step back and turned away, muffling the sneeze into the napkin. Then another. And another. “Hehhihh… Hihhh… Hehh… Hehh’GSSHHhuhh! Huhh’KKTSCHhhew! Hehh’TSCHCHhahh!”

“Gesundheit.” The man said, standing up and looking even more impatient. “I’m officer McKinley. What can I help you with?”

Dean pulled the fake badge from his pocket, not bothering to check their rock alias of the week, and flashed it with a look of self-importance. “I have sombe questionds about the recendt attacks.” His grimness was undercut slightly by the congestion in his voice.

The ranger’s eyebrows went up. “Well, Agent Simmons, you’ll have to ask me while we walk. I just got a call about some kids messing around with matches and I gotta go.”

Dean gave the ranger a dubious look, eyeing the snow that was now falling in sheets outside. “Kids are trying to light a fire in this weather?”

McKinley shrugged, blowing out a sigh. “Kids are kids. What did you need to ask me?”

The idea of keeping stride with this man in the freezing snow when his head was already hurting this badly and his body felt this weak was so wholly unappealing that Dean almost just asked for a copy of the official report. He knew his questions would stray from the details provided, however, so he heaved a sigh and started questioning, slogging through the snow behind the ranger.

McKinley was content enough to answer his questions, but it became clear within minutes that he didn’t know much more about the attacks than Dean did. He offered him a tissue, though, when Dean launched into a sneezing fit long enough to leave him weary. “Hh’TSCHhhuhh! Hehh’ESCHHhhoo! Huhh’ESCHhahh! Huhh… Huhh’DZZHHUHHhh! Hehh’KTSCHhuhh!”

“Nasty cold you got there,” the man commented, slogging through the snow toward his vehicle. Dean assured the man that he was fine, and resumed questioning, following the officer to his car. A coughing fit left him breathless and suddenly he could not remember what else to ask.

Dean had parked nearby, and was shivering so badly at that point that he decided to call it off and retreat to the warmth of the crappy bed in their crappy motel room. His head was foggy, limbs weak and sore, and he couldn’t seem to stop shaking.

He bid McKinley goodbye and sped off to get Sam, feeling miserable. If he’d had any doubts this morning about the state of his health, they were gone now.

~*~*~*~*~

Part 2 featuring our favorite angel coming very very soon! <3

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

Sneezy in denial Dean is always the best kind! Love it!

[Ciel]

oh my this is amazing! i'm just imagining dean all snug and wrapped up in a slanket now XD

[supernaturalfragalistic]

llllllllllllooooooooooooooooooooooooooooovvvvvvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeeee

[spirkestielgirl87]

This is great! Can't wait for part 2!

[PuddinPop]

Ahhhhh, Zwee~!! You're my Secret Santa! I am so happy omgh <3

Firstly, I want to thank you SO MUCH for writing me something that you haven't written in ages! That's some serious dedication and love right there.

Secondly, I LOVE THIS SO MUCH ALREADY. Your atmospheric descriptions are absolutely beautiful and your attention to detail is incredible

I know how much you love Castiel

Is it really that obvious

It doesn't matter though because I also love Dean and this is just everything that I hoped it would be and more

For a moment, he had a half-delirious longing for one of those blankets with sleeves, and immediately became bewildered at himself.

I loved this part so much xD it's so amazing, it made me laugh out loud a little xDD it's so perfectly in character too~!

He pulled into a parking spot and waited for Sam to get out and shut the door before his eyes scrunched and his breath hitched twice and then caught ferociously in the back of his throat, pitching forward with two harsh sneezes that made him dizzy. “Hehhihh… Huhh… Hehh’DDZZSHHhuhh! Hehh’ETSCHhuhh!”

Okay, firstly these spellings are GOLD <3 they're so decipherable, like, I can hear them in my head x33 so cute! And also I adore the little touch about Dean waiting for Sam to get out of the car before he sneezes <333 amazing~!

He followed after his brother hastily, swiping his nose on his sleeve and wishing he were curled up in bed. Even just not being vertical would be nice. Fueled by thoughts of a nap, provided they got things done, he forced his legs onward to examine the corpse.

Ugh, this is just too cute! Dean being all forlorn and moody is my absolute favourite x33

Dean knew this would be his tell. His sneezes weren’t usually this loud or this forceful, and only became like this when he was coming down with something.

AND THE BRO FEELS~ I absolutely love it when like, Sam knows something about Dean that no one else does and vice versa, like, he knows Dean's 'sick sneezes' and that they're different from his regular ones. I am a total sucker for bro feels, jfc xDD

He offered him a tissue, though, when Dean launched into a sneezing fit long enough to leave him weary. “Hh’TSCHhhuhh! Hehh’ESCHHhhoo! Huhh’ESCHhahh! Huhh… Huhh’DZZHHUHHhh! Hehh’KTSCHhuhh!”

“Nasty cold you got there,” the man commented, slogging through the snow toward his vehicle

AND THIS IS JUST TOO CUTE. I love it when people make little passing comments, almost not even noticing it, when someone is ill x3 it feels so perfect and natural~!


Okay, TL;DR, I loved everything about this wonderful little fic, and the fact that there is a part 2 has me practically vibrating with excitement

Thank you so, so much, Zwee I love this (in case you couldn't tell)

[Anilkex]

Oh....oh my god...

[telltale]

Oh my gosh, this is fantastic! I love your descriptions with regards to Dean's steadily worsening illness, and just, your descriptions of everything. Your writing flows really well. And I can just picture Sam's concerned face, aw.

[Sitruuna]

Hng Dean

Poor shivery, sneezy mess...

Those snz spellings fit him incredibly well

Definitely looking forward to more : D

[Zwee]

You guyyyyss...

I'm so blown away by your response! And completely flattered! I forgot how much I adore the SPN fandom for its enthusiasm and familiarity! <3 <3

I'm really really happy you guys like my spellings, I'm very sound-oriented, so that's a huge compliment for me! And PuddinPop, I'm just so, so glad and relieved that you like it!

Now, without further ado, here is the second and final installment!

~*~*~*~*~

Sam was waiting outside when he drove up to the house, hopping from foot to foot in the cold.

“Took you long enough,” he murmured, climbing in and looking at his brother inquisitively. “What did you find out?”

“Dnot mbuch.” He gave a mighty sniff, trying to clear his nose. “Ranger didn’t know anything. Report matched up with a Chupacabra attack, though.”

“I’ve never seen one this far north before.” Sam frowned, exchanging an apprehensive look with his brother. This was not a good sign and they both knew it.

Dean opened his mouth to say something but was immediately cut off by the need to sneeze. “Hehhihh… Huhh… Huhh’TSCHhhuh! Hehh’KTCHhh!” He broke into a coughing fit and avoided his brother’s eyes.

“Dude, you sound terrible. You’re getting sick.” There was a mournful note of sympathy buried beneath the accusation, and Dean wanted to roll his eyes.

“M’fine,” he grunted. “Let’s kill this thing.”

His eyes ached. The pounding pressure behind them was building, and he regretted not letting Sam drive. The headlights of passing cars blasted his eyes mercilessly, and his head ached to be rested, but he drove on, determined to finish the case that night.

The looming, snow-covered trees leached the color from the world, leaving everything stark white against the dark backdrop of the sky. His nose prickled and he scrubbed at it roughly with the back of his hand. Suddenly, the sneezes came at Dean, one after another. “HehTSHH-uhh! Ihh’Kshh-uhh! Hihh’TSCHhahh! Uhh… Heh’ITSHhoo! Ugh.” His head pounded, and the need to sneeze intensified for a moment, before backing away and making him feel truly awful. His nose was running, and he swiped at it one-handedly with his bandana, sniffling.

Sam shot him a look of irritated concern, opening his mouth to say something.

“Shut up.” Dean cut him off.

Sam shut his mouth, bitchface flashing before he sighed and resigned himself to silence.

~*~*~*~*~

Their motel room was dark and cold when they finally returned. Dean fumbled on the wall for the light switch tiredly, eventually finding it and letting out a hoarse yelp when a figure materialized in front of him.

“Cas—damn it! What did I say about you doing that!?”

The angel did not appear perturbed at all by this reaction. “Dean. Sam.” He strode over to them. “How is it going?”

The phrase sounded alien coming out of Castiel’s mouth, and Dean suppressed a chuckle, seeing that the angel looked weary. “We’re fine. How’s the war?”

“Our forces are deteriorating quickly. I cannot spare much time here. What is happening here? Do you have any more information?”

“The case is… weird.” Sam said, going to his duffel and digging through it for his knife.

“Chupacabras in the snow,” Dean elaborated sniffling. “Hehh’GISSHhuhh!”

“God bless you.” Castiel gave him a strange look, head cocking slightly to the side. “You seem… unwell. Your temperature is elevated and your immune system is compromised.”

Sam spun around. “I knew it. You’re sick. And you have a fever? You can’t work the case like this.”

Dean swore, sending the angel a death glare. “Jesus, I’m fine, Sam—damn it Cas! I’m fine. I can still kill this thing, I’ve done it a million times. You’ve done it a million times.” He added, looking at Sam imploringly, and immediately breaking into a coughing fit. Castiel patted him awkwardly on the back, looking hilariously serious.

Sam sighed, obviously torn. Dean could practically see through streaming eyes the inner struggle which Sam was enduring. His mouth screwed up and his eyebrows scrunched, and finally, he tossed his brother a knife, shaking his head.

“We’re going now then, because you’re only going to get worse.”

“Fine. Great.” Dean rasped, tucking the knife into the waistband of his jeans and layering a warmer jacket under his leather one. “Let’s go. You coming, Cas?”

The angel looked torn as well, but his decision was admittedly more practical. “I must get back. I will check in again soon. And Dean—I hope you feel better.”

Dean smirked, exchanging an amused look with his brother. “Uh, thanks, Cas.”

With that, the angel disappeared as quickly as he had come.

Wearily, Dean tossed the keys at his brother, grabbing his gun and heading out into the frigid winter air once more.

~*~*~*~*~

Within moments of reaching their destination, Dean knew he was not up to this. He felt the telltale signs of fever ravaging his body, leaving him hazy and hot and trembling with shivers. Sam forced water on him every chance he could get. Dean just wanted to get through this so he could sleep.

It was relatively easy to find the Chupacabra’s den. At least, Dean imagined it was. He was just dumbly following Sam’s footprints in the snow, trying not to draw to much attention to himself and muffling sneezes into his bandana.

Once they reached the mouth of the cave, Dean motioned for Sam to go around the other side, and the younger one nodded, gun at the ready. He pulled out a vial of goat’s blood and poured it into the snow at the foot of the cave, waiting for the smell to entice the creature into emerging from its shelter without noticing the hunters’ presences.

Suddenly, Dean needed to sneeze. His breath hitched madly, and he tried his best to stave it off, pressing his free hand beneath his nose. It was no use. He shot Sam a warning look and twisted away, trying to muffle the sneezes into his bandana.

“Huhh… Hehhh… Hehhihh… Hh-Hehh’TSCHhh! Huhh’KKTSCHHhehhh! Huhh’DDZSCHhuhh! Hehh’TSCHhhahh!”

Two sanguine red eyes glowed from inside the cave, and a threatening hissing cut savagely through the air. In two huge bounds, the thing was at Dean’s throat, screeching in anger. He lost his footing and felt himself going down, fumbling with the trigger. A shot rang out from where Sam stood, missed, but the creature jumped back, snarling angrily. Dean felt the ground come up to meet him and was instantly doused in cold wetness. His body screamed in protest at the snow seeping through his clothes, but he ignored it, adrenaline working to his advantage.

The Chupacabra was advancing on Sam now, hissing madly, red eyes narrowed in anger and fear.

Dean couldn’t get a good shot, his hands were shaking too badly and he knew if he missed, he could hit his brother. Sam took a step back, narrowly avoiding a fallen tree branch, and raised his gun once more, calculating.

The creature leapt at the last moment and Sam missed, swearing, stumbling back.

“Sam!” Dean’s shout was a hoarse cry that echoed in the snow-dampened silence. He forced his frozen, aching muscles up and trudged dizzily toward the monster, cocking his gun. Just one more step to the left, and he could get him. Come on. One more step.

The Chupacabra darted around a rock and Dean had him, the bullet leaving his gun instantly and making contact. The beast went down, and Sam rushed over, delivering the kill shot to ensure it would not leap back up.

“Dean!” Sam called, breathless and concerned.

“I’m fine,” Dean said back, voice scraping, sending him into a fit of coughing. “You?”

“Good. Let’s burn this thing and get you home.”

Dean couldn’t have agreed more.

The fire was a nice heat source to help dry his drenched clothing, but the smoke aggravated his nose and lungs, making him sneeze harshly. “Hehhh’GSHHhuhh! Hehh’ESCHHhhahh!”

Sam’s face was despondent with concern; it was almost funny, except Dean felt so awful he couldn’t fathom laughing.

Sam drove at high speeds back to the motel, sticking Dean in the shower as soon as they returned. The hot water felt amazing, but as soon as he shut the faucet off, he was racked with shivers.

Feeling weak and dizzy, he wrapped himself in a towel and made his way shakily to the door. The cool air from the room made his nose flare up with irritation. “Huhh’KTSCHhuhh! Hehh’ISHHtshhh!”

To his immense surprise, a trench coat-clad angel was standing stiffly in the center of the room. “God bless you.”

“Cas?” He wasn’t sure if it was the fever making him feel so confused. “I thought you had some badassery to get up to in Heaven.”

“They can fight without me for a few hours if I am needed elsewhere.” The angel stated. “Your health has deteriorated.”

“I’m alright,” he pulled on some sweatpants and one of Sam’s hoodies. “Just need sleep.”

Sam pressed Tylenol tablets into one hand and nudged a bottle of water into his other. “Take it.” He urged, placing the back of his hand against Dean’s forehead.

Dean ducked away, swallowing the pills with a wince and collapsing weakly onto the bed in front of him.

“I will stay until you have improved.” Castiel said, striding over to the older Winchester and helping him slip underneath the blankets.

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean mumbled awkwardly, crossing his arms over his chest. This act of tenderness made him feel strangely emotional. Blaming the fever, he pulled the blankets up over himself and pressed his weary eyes closed. After a few minutes, the Tylenol began to take effect, and his shivering abated enough to allow his sore muscles to relax. With the sounds of Sam’s and Castiel’s murmurs and the warmth of the blankets piled on top of him, a sense of comfort settled over him, and in minutes, he drifted into the relief of sleep.

THE END

~*~*~*~*~

Hope you all liked it! And happy holidays to everyone!!

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

DEEEEAAAAANNNNNNNN!!!!!!! :heart: God I love that man

Lovely! Perfect! Amazing! Ugghhhhhh!!!!! YESS

[TheMaster]

I love this. I just love the characterization that you have for them it just feels so spot on.

[PuddinPop]

Ahhhh, Zwee~!

This was amazing! I love case fics, I love how you worked that in

I adore Sam being all prissy while trying to be caring at the same time xDDD

And this part:

Sam shot him a look of irritated concern, opening his mouth to say something.

“Shut up.” Dean cut him off.

Sam shut his mouth, bitchface flashing before he sighed and resigned himself to silence.

I LOVED THIS EXCHANGE xD It's so like them >w<

AND YOU INCLUDED CAS QwQ! I love S6 Cas >w< just him abandoning the war in heaven to care for Dean is such a nice touch. Perfect <3

Okay, so I adored all of this fic, thank you so much for taking the time to write it for me. I hope you had a good holiday~! <3

[AngelEyes]

You have an amazing writing style. Your descriptions are so vivid. And the vocabulary, awesome.

“Dude, you sound terrible. You’re getting sick.” There was a mournful note of sympathy buried beneath the accusation, and Dean wanted to roll his eyes.

I totally heard this in Sam's voice!

“God bless you.” Castiel gave him a strange look, head cocking slightly to the side. “You seem… unwell. Your temperature is elevated and your immune system is compromised.”

Sam spun around. “I knew it. You’re sick. And you have a fever? You can’t work the case like this.”

Dean swore, sending the angel a death glare. “Jesus, I’m fine, Sam—damn it Cas! I’m fine.

Perfectly Cas. And I can hear Dean's Damn it Cas! LOL

“I will stay until you have improved.” Castiel said, striding over to the older Winchester and helping him slip underneath the blankets.

Awwww!

[telltale]

Yay, glad to see more of this. It's such a lovely and comforting fic; I really enjoyed it.