Bad Timing - Secret Santa for MaiMai! (Supernatural - Sam, Castiel - Part 2/4)

[PuddinPop]

SURPRISE!!!!!!

I am your Secret Santa

Which I was so super happy about but also scared as hell because I love you and wanted to make you something perfect

I really hope this is something like what you were after~! There are still (several) parts to accompany this but I really wanted to make sure that I had something posted for you before Christmas~!!

I plan on having all parts uploaded before the New Year, though ^o^

Anyway, MaiMai, you are amazing and I adore you and I really hope you like your gift!

~Bad Timing

This was not happening. No, this couldn’t be happening, not right now. Of everything that could have happened to him right at that moment, this was the most irritating, most inconvenient thing that he could have possibly considered.

Sam was sick, of that he was sure of – now. He had ‘pulled a Dean’ – as he sometimes called it – and denied it even to himself for a few days but now, there was no dispute.

In the days which preceded, any time Dean had challenged him on the state of his health, the scratchy throat was just from the dry air in the bunker, the frequent sniffles a result of the drastic temperate change (he never did like snow all that much) and the increasingly frequent sneezing fits were just from the lack of housekeeping that both brothers (but more so Dean) failed to attend to. It was only on the third day when he awoke with a throbbing fullness in his sinuses and a feeling as though his chest was being compressed that he had to concede – he was definitely sick.

Though it was nothing he couldn’t handle; he’d been in Lucifer’s cage for goodness' sake, not to mention he’d walked around without a soul for over a year. A few sniffles here and there were hardly going to debilitate him. It was nothing to worry about.

Though of course, if Dean knew, he would make it appear as though it was definitely something to worry about. More than that, Dean would be become practically insufferable; he would spend the entirety of his time fussing and clucking over Sam like he was some fragile little chick that was on death’s door. Sam couldn’t really blame Dean for being that way, given that they were all the other one had in this world and they had come too close to losing each other more times than he cared to count. The thought of doing so again kept them both awake at night on a regular basis but Dean’s meticulous scrutiny when it came to Sam’s health could grow really old really fast. If he had been shot, fine, he could understand Dean panicking. But he acted the same way over a cold as he did from something actually life threatening. Which was possessive, annoyingly attentive and downright intolerable.

Dean was one factor into Sam’s behavior whenever he got sick with a cold, but he definitely wasn’t the primary contributor; he was more a catalyst in a larger picture. He was arguably worse than Dean at trying to maintain this robust bravado of some kind. Sam considered colds to be something manageable, bearable, something which didn’t need to be fussed about. They were the mildest of afflictions and given the barrage of shit they contended with in their daily lives, colds were one of the easiest things to muddle through. They were annoying, but they were quick and easy; not like a stab-wound or heart-attack (Dean).

Whilst Sam always considered this to be the reasoning behind his behavior, Dean always relented that it was more likely that Sam hated not being able to do anything. He was a creature of habit and whilst their job didn’t exactly have a set 9-5 style routine, there was still a definitive pattern to it. Namely, they were either working or they weren’t and Sam hated it when they weren’t. He couldn’t bear to be sat around doing nothing; he had never taken a vacation in his life. Even when he was with Jessica, he would take his school textbooks to her parents’ house during the holiday periods and even as he had grown older, he found it difficult not to submerge himself in some kind of learning or research in his downtime. It wiled the time away in these lulls between cases and dimmed the claustrophobia and cabin fever. If Sam admitted to being sick, then Dean wouldn’t allow him to work; it was that simple. He would be banished to bed and medicated so much that he’d barely be able to remain conscious. Sam knew this and Dean knew this so Sam took every precaution possible to hide his state of health from his brother.

What Sam always failed to realise, however, is that his efforts to conceal his illness were so cliché and predictable that Dean was now wise to them; they were as obvious as the symptoms themselves. There were small subtleties to the way Sam acted which always gave the game away, such as sleeping in instead of going for his morning run or the way he remained uncharacteristically stoic. He was an introvert anyway, that much was apparent – as opposed to his aggressively extroverted brother – so it was never unexpected for him to want some alone time every now and again but acting cagey and secretly reclusive was just not something which Sam usually did.

Sam had found them a case a couple of towns over and had stated to his brother that he was researching some particular monster – a baobhan sith to be exact; men disappearing and then reappearing with all their blood drained without a bite wound. There was nothing else it could have been – and given that the only heating that was working in the bunker was in his room, he was going to do most of it there. The excuse seemed to work on the surface and Dean didn’t really pass comment; though how long that would last was anyone’s guess.

The truth was that despite it maybe being a little chilly in the wilderness that was the library, Sam was beginning to develop that annoyingly permanent cloy of a tickle set deep in his sinuses and throat that always accompanied a cold. At least in the confines of his room he could cough, sniffle and-

“hh..h’TSCHH’uh!”

-do that, as often as he liked. There was something about Sam sneezing that made Dean more scrupulous than usual. He seemed to know every kind of sneeze that Sam had. Apparently each trigger had a different kind of sound or whatever, like allergies were quick, quiet and frequent, colds were drawn out and heavier and Dean had learned each one of them. Which was kind of weird, when he thought about it, but given that every waking moment for almost their entire lives had been spent together, it probably wasn’t all that unusual. Though when he thought about Dean’s sneezes, all he could ever hear was just one ear-shattering sound and it was done, regardless of whether he was sick, being an obnoxious dick or just… sneezing? He tried not to dwell on it too much. Regardless of how justifiable it was that they knew this much about each other, it didn’t make it any less weird.

And the sneezing wasn’t the only problem Sam was contending with. Lying down had seemed to accentuate the congestion overnight, it now weighing heavy in his head, implementing a dragging fatigue on his eyes which made it difficult to keep them open. No matter how much he sniffed or blew his nose, he couldn’t seem to shift it and sitting up did nothing to alleviate it. He hadn’t tried talking that morning but he knew that as soon as he did, he would be busted; he could be the greatest actor in the world but if his voice sounded as thick and heavy as his head did, he would be screwed. His goal was to try to shower and allow the steam to loosen the gunk a little before he even thought about appearing before-

“Sam?”

-Dean, shit. Sam tucked himself further under the covers of his bed as the loud thumping on his door reverberated around the room. Why did Dean have to be such a loud, inconsiderate dick constantly? Why couldn’t he just leave Sam alone for a few fucking hours? Maybe if he pretended to still be asleep, Dean would leave him be for another hour or two. Maybe…

“Hey, Sam!”

No such luck. The knocking was getting louder, along with Dean’s voice. Of course he wouldn’t leave; Dean was annoyingly relentless when it came to Sam.

Sitting up in the bed and allowing the sheets to fall to his lap, Sam pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes as he yawned, trying to shake the groggy morning feeling but being unsuccessful. He sniffled into the back of his wrist, lamenting Dean for disallowing him the opportunity of showering and appearing normal before coming into contact with him.

“Sam! What the hell? Y’better answer or I’m comin’ in!”

Geez, the guy never quit. It was always the same. A guy sneaks out with a demon a couple of times and suddenly he’s accused of the same each time he doesn't respond instantly.

And Sam tried to respond. He really, really tried. He knew he tried because he wanted Dean to hear how pissed he was that he had not only been awoken but also forced to get up before he was ready. Unfortunately for Sam, when he tried to speak, the only sound emitted was a horse croak, creating a searing jolt of pain to scrape against the tissue in his throat. He swallowed around the swelling, slipping a hand to touch at the taut skin of his neck, noting the palpable swelling of his glands. Well, shit. And if that wasn’t enough to contend with, his body decided that fucking now was a good time to ignite a sneeze into action. Now of all times, when his brother was suspicious enough on the other side of the door whilst threatening to break it down.

“Alright, I’m coming in. On three…”

Shit, if he sneezed in front of Dean now, the case would be put on hold. More people would die. Or Dean would take Cas, which was arguably worse. Cas was running low enough on mojo as it was, he needed to rest more than Sam did. Not that Sam really needed to rest-...

“One.”

Fuck fuck fuck. The itch relented, growing in intensity with each passing second regardless of how Sam held his breath or pinched his nose, all it did was...

“hh-… hihh..”

“Two.”

...make his breath hitch, as though his body was mocking him, making a statement of how all his attempts to halt the expulsion were all in vain.

It was futile. The more he tried to keep it contained, the angrier the itch became, fanning out in his nose, forcing his brow to lift, his eyes to drift lazily closed as his breath caught in his throat. He instinctively pulled the collar of his shirt up over his nose in an attempt to at least muffle as much of the sound as he could as his head tipped back, his muscles tensing in preparation.

“Three.”

By the time Sam heard the click of the door, he was too enraptured in his current predicament. His eyes were now fully closed, his shirt over the lower half of his countenance. He was vaguely aware of Dean saying something – swearing, mostly – but barely paid it any attention. Just as he sensed Dean’s present next to the bed, his body finally succumbed.

“Sam..?”

“hh-! h’TSSH!-ktch! hihh… hi-TSCHHh’u! Ugh..”

By the time Sam recovered enough from the expulsions, he raised damp eyes to rest on his brother, who was looming over him at the side of the bed, arms crossed firmly across his chest. He raised his eyebrows as Sam let out a short but wet sniff into the collar of his shirt before allowing it to drop back down to his chest. He just sighed, rubbing his large paws across his face, groaning inwardly as he cleared his throat, hoping that speaking would be easier this time around.

“Dod’t sdart with mbe, Deand. I’mb fide. S’just allergies.” Well, his voice wasn’t a vast improvement but at least he was able to make at least some sound, even if he did wince a little from both the blunted sound and sharp pain. He dragged a hand over his face as he said it, heeling his palm into one of his eyes once more as though to impersonate someone with itchy eyes. He wasn’t about to tell Dean that it was due to the crippling fatigue that was still seeping its way right down to his bones.

“Well, as ‘fide’ as you may be, allergies don’t come with a fever..” Dean slapped a hand against Sam’s forehead as he said it, his expression taking on that pouty bitch-face he always wore whenever he was scolding Sam about something.

“I’ve dot got a fever-…”

“..or muscle aches-“

“-..Wait, how did you..?”

“..or sweating.”

“Stop!” Sam’s raised voice rose in pitch at the end, becoming almost comical. It startled both of them, Sam especially, given that the heightened strain on his vocal chords caused him to cough harshly into his shoulder. Luckily, it was a dry enough cough but it was persistent and relenting, causing Dean to duck quickly into the bathroom to grab a glass, fill it with water and thrust it in Sam’s direction before he barely had time to take a breath. Taking a long gulp of the water, Sam panted in the aftermath of the attack, his brow furrowed with a scowl of annoyance and penitence.

“…you’re ‘fide’, huh?” Dean offered a frown of his own, folding his arms across his chest once again as he spoke. Sam returned the look, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. He tried to utter a sharp huff through his nose before remembering it was becoming seriously congested, resulting in a quiet gurgling noise which forced him to part his pouting lips and finish his sulk through his mouth.

“Well, I would be if you learned how to use a vacuum cleaner-..”

“Do not even try to blame this on allergies, Sam. Do not.”

“Well, it’s-..”

“No, it’s not. Have you forgotten all those nights I spent making you tomato rice soup because ‘the chicken one tasted funny’ or the times I had to make midnight runs to the store for apple juice because the OJ hurt your throat too much or how my throat would get sore from reading The Blue Sword about six hundred times?”

“..Ndo.”

“No. Then you won’t have forgotten how I’ve seen you sick more times than anyone else and I know before you do when you caught something.” Dean turned to walk out of the room, pausing in the doorway before looking back over his shoulder to his younger brother. “Oh, and bless you, by the way.”

He gave Sam a smug, knowing look as though to prove the point he had just made. Sam just looked at Dean with perplexion before his face contorted, a sudden irritation exploding in his nose, forcing him to bury his face into the crook of his elbow with a forceful yet soft “hh-KTSCHHh’iu!”

Sam grabbed a wad of tissues from the box on his nightstand, blowing his nose while squinting as menacingly as he could at the doorway which Dean had just left through. He hated this, everything about it. Being sick, contending with his brother. Not to mention he’d also have to deal with Cas undoubtedly fussing and asking innumerable questions. He always did whenever either of them caught something or had an injury of any kind.

He heard Dean shout ‘breakfast’s ready!’ down the hall as he flopped back down on his pillows. He hadn’t noticed until now that he was trembling slightly and was half-tempted to pull the covers back up over his head and sleep the day away. But as much as Dean would be the first person to agree with Sam on this one (for once), it would be all he would allow his brother to do for the next few days.

Allowing himself a few more precious seconds in bed, allowing his fatigued muscles to be cushioned by the firm softness of the mattress, Sam swung his long legs out the side and shivered suddenly, tucking himself back inwards at the sharp contrast of cool air against his burning skin. He sneezed a weak “hi’ktsshh!” into his elbow before standing wearily, mentally preparing himself for the delights that awaited him in the kitchen.

This was going to be a long couple of days…

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

(Just gonna pop in here...)

HOLY BALLS SAM IS THE MOST ADORABLE HUMAN EVER!!!!

Ahem. Another story going to be written beautifully. Can't wait for the rest

[MaiMai]

OH MY GOD PUDDIN, YOU BEAUTIFUL AND MAJESTIC HORSE, I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS. YOU COMPLETELY HAD ME, COMPLAINING TO ME ABOUT HOW YOUR PERSON WANTED ALLERGIES AND STUFF AND OMG, I LITERALLY HAD NO IDEA, BUT THIS IS THE BEST CHRISTMAS GIFT EVER. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

There is so much I love about this (you've got everything so completely right), but I'll try and pick out some of the main things~!

Though of course, if Dean knew, he would make it appear as though it was definitely something to worry about. More than that, Dean would be become practically insufferable; he would spend the entirety of his time fussing and clucking over Sam like he was some fragile little chick that was on death’s door.

UM THIS IS SO ADORABLE. FUSSING DEAN IS JUST THE BEST.

Sam couldn’t really blame Dean for being that way, given that they were all the other one had in this world and they had come too close to losing each other more times than he cared to count.

AAWWWW, MY HEART. QWQ THIS KILLED ME OMG

not like a stab-wound or heart-attack (Dean).

I loved this reference, it just sounds so pointed and snarky.

What Sam always failed to realise, however, is that his efforts to conceal his illness were so cliché and predictable that Dean was now wise to them; they were as obvious as the symptoms themselves.

OKAY THIS CONCEPT RIGHT HERE? THAT IS THE CUTEST THING EVER.

He seemed to know every kind of sneeze that Sam had. Apparently each trigger had a different kind of sound or whatever, like allergies were quick, quiet and frequent, colds were drawn out and heavier and Dean had learned each one of them. Which was kind of weird, when he thought about it, but given that every waking moment for almost their entire lives had been spent together, it probably wasn’t all that unusual.

This is also adorable!!!! Nothing gets past Dean.

And Sam tried to respond. He really, really tried. He knew he tried because he wanted Dean to hear how pissed he was that he had not only been awoken but also forced to get up before he was ready. Unfortunately for Sam, when he tried to speak, the only sound emitted was a horse croak, creating a searing jolt of pain to scrape against the tissue in his throat.

UMMM YOU PUT IN VOICE LOSS HELP ME THIS IS PERFECT I LOVE YOU.

“One.”

Fuck fuck fuck. The itch relented, growing in intensity with each passing second regardless of how Sam held his breath or pinched his nose, all it did was...

“hh-… hihh..”

“Two.”

...make his breath hitch, as though his body was mocking him, making a statement of how all his attempts to halt the expulsion were all in vain.

It was futile. The more he tried to keep it contained, the angrier the itch became, fanning out in his nose, forcing his brow to lift, his eyes to drift lazily closed as his breath caught in his throat. He instinctively pulled the collar of his shirt up over his nose in an attempt to at least muffle as much of the sound as he could as his head tipped back, his muscles tensing in preparation.

“Three.”

By the time Sam heard the click of the door, he was too enraptured in his current predicament. His eyes were now fully closed, his shirt over the lower half of his countenance. He was vaguely aware of Dean saying something – swearing, mostly – but barely paid it any attention. Just as he sensed Dean’s present next to the bed, his body finally succumbed.

“Sam..?”

“hh-! h’TSSH!-ktch! hihh… hi-TSCHHh’u! Ugh..”

OKAY, THIS WHOLE BIT KILLED ME. JUST THE HITCHING AND THE SHIRT AND DEAN BEING SUCH A LITTLE SHIT AND AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHFLFLFKDJF

“Dod’t sdart with mbe, Deand. I’mb fide. S’just allergies.” Well, his voice wasn’t a vast improvement but at least he was able to make at least some sound, even if he did wince a little from both the blunted sound and sharp pain.

POOR SAMMY, AND HE'S SO ADORABLY STUBBORN. >w<

“I’ve dot got a fever-…”

“..or muscle aches-“

“-..Wait, how did you..?”

“..or sweating.”

THIS IS SO SWEET, HOW DEAN JUST KNOWS WITHOUT HIM HAVING TO SAY ANYTHING. <3333

forced him to part his pouting lips and finish his sulk through his mouth.

This is so Sam, oh my god!

“No, it’s not. Have you forgotten all those nights I spent making you tomato rice soup because ‘the chicken one tasted funny’ or the times I had to make midnight runs to the store for apple juice because the OJ hurt your throat too much or how my throat would get sore from reading The Blue Sword about six hundred times?”

THIS IS ALSO THE SWEETEST THING EVER. JUST DEAN BEING A BIG BROTHER AND YUS.

“Oh, and bless you, by the way.”

He gave Sam a smug, knowing look as though to prove the point he had just made. Sam just looked at Dean with perplexion before his face contorted, a sudden irritation exploding in his nose, forcing him to bury his face into the crook of his elbow with a forceful yet soft “hh-KTSCHHh’iu!”

AS IS THIS BECAUSE DEAN WOULD TOTALLY KNOW HIM WELL ENOUGH TO BE ABLE TO DO THAT AAAAHHHHHHH \^w^/

This is literally the most perfect thing I ever could have imagined. AND YOU WROTE ME SAMMY AND I KNOW YOU DON'T LIKE WRITING SAMMY SO THANK YOUUUU.

I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE REST OF THIS, I CAN'T BELIEVE THERE ARE MORE PARTS AND EVERYTHING.

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH PUDDIN, AND YOU HAD BETTER COME DOWN HERE SOON SO I CAN HUG THE HELL OUT OF YOU IRL.

[HPG]

Apparently each trigger had a different kind of sound or whatever, like allergies were quick, quiet and frequent, colds were drawn out and heavier and Dean had learned each one of them. Which was kind of weird, when he thought about it, but given that every waking moment for almost their entire lives had been spent together, it probably wasn’t all that unusual. Though when he thought about Dean’s sneezes, all he could ever hear was just one ear-shattering sound and it was done, regardless of whether he was sick, being an obnoxious dick or just… sneezing?

I can't decide if this is incredibly hot or incredibly cute, but either way I'm drooling.

[darkness-is-the-light]

Puddin... What are you doing to everyone? You are ruining our hearts so wonderfully horribly. How dare you write this piece of indulgence.

[PuddinPop]

(Just gonna pop in here...)

HOLY BALLS SAM IS THE MOST ADORABLE HUMAN EVER!!!!

Ahem. Another story going to be written beautifully. Can't wait for the rest

Hahaha, thank you~! I'm glad you liked it

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH PUDDIN, AND YOU HAD BETTER COME DOWN HERE SOON SO I CAN HUG THE HELL OUT OF YOU IRL.

AHHHH MAI I would have quoted your whole thing but it would have been huge I just want to say that I am SO RELIEVED AND HAPPY THAT YOU LIKE THIS QwQ like, seriously, I was so worried that it wouldn't be something which you liked, but I keep reading this wonderful comment over and over and it makes me so happy, so thank you for taking the time to leave such an amazing comment, you're the best <3 AND I WILL HOPEFULLY BE DOWN THERE SOON xDDD

I can't decide if this is incredibly hot or incredibly cute, but either way I'm drooling.

thank you xD

Puddin... What are you doing to everyone? You are ruining our hearts so wonderfully horribly. How dare you write this piece of indulgence.

sorrynotsorry I'm glad you liked it though~!


OKAY, SO.

This is the next part. It's kind of... unedited xD I wrote it all really quickly (well, over a few days) but I was determined to have something posted tonight, so I'm sorry if it's full of mistakes and just generally crappy xD ALSO THE FORUM WAS DOWN WHEN I TRIED TO POST SO I LOST MY EDITS SO THANKS FORUM

Also, as it may have been noted (>w>) I'm a lot more comfortable writing Cas than I am Sam so this post kinda... ran away with me xD

ANYWAY~

I hope you enjoy it Mai (and everyone~!) and I'm sorry about making you wait so long!

~Part 2

He knew it was coming eventually. It was inevitable. The transition from angel to human was arduous, difficult, terrifying, but above all, it was downright agonizing. The pain experienced when he was an angel was much different to the pain he felt as a human. If anyone had asked him, he would have claimed that angelic pain was, in fact, not painful at all; not by comparison, anyway. No, human sensations were magnified in every way possible and retaining his celestial sensitivity made for being a human extremely difficult. He could feel the rush of blood in his veins, the sound of his pulse thrumming lazily and rhythmically in his ears, each brush of air sharp against his skin, each irritation, itch, scratch and burn almost unbearable. He didn’t know how humans tolerated it.

The process was also extremely unforgiving. The moments when he thought that he was beginning to grasp being human, something happened which forced him to question everything. Every lesson learned was quickly disproven at every given opportunity and it was exhausting. Which was another pathetically human characteristic, one which Castiel did not care for: fatigue. The only times he had needed to sleep when he was an angel were when his Grace was compromised, when he was cut off from heaven or suffering the effects of an impending apocalypse, which didn’t help the way he felt about the action. He associated sleeping with feeling weak and vulnerable, making him wish that he didn’t have to do it but after trying to remain awake, he had to eventually succumb when he got into the 40^th hour with no sleep, making himself almost hysterical. It reminded him of what he had done to Sam when he broke the wall; something which he still hadn’t forgiven himself for, more so now that he could feel human emotions.

The worst part about becoming human, Castiel thought, was learning how to care for his human body. He had to wash with more than just water, he had to brush his teeth with a tiny little brush which was different than the brush used to clean the floors, he had to wash his clothes, change them every day, feed himself and ascertain that he kept his body hydrated by drinking what felt to him like a ridiculous amount of water. Not to mention that particular precautions and etiquettes which were expected of him like disallowing his body to pass gas in social situations or.being expected to smother his face whenever he succumbed to a reflex such as a cough or a sneeze and then had to wash himself afterwards (which defeated the object of smothering with a hand, but whatever). He had taken note of Sam recently, who was sneezing and sanitizing himself much more frequently than usual. It struck Castiel as rather unusual – Sam was a notoriously clean guy anyway, but there was just something… off about his actions that Castiel couldn’t quite fathom – but he never usually went to such lengths. It was only when he noticed that Sam was beginning to sneeze more often and also his sniffling and slight flush of cheeks indicated that he was sick with something. Castiel’s human intuition may not have been the best, but even he could see that Sam had manifested some kind of virus and these symptoms were a result of their infiltration of his immune system. Cas never mentioned anything to Dean (he had seen how Dean reacted to germs previously) and in all honesty, he completely forgot about it; until three days ago.

He had been alone with Sam – which was a pretty rare occurrence recently; usually Dean was somewhere within earshot – sidled up next to each other at the table in the study. They were beginning to work a case, something which Sam had found them the previous day and were currently researching the villain – a baobhan sith – when it happened. Sam had been leaning over towards Cas, elbows rested upon the table, his shoulder practically nestled into Cas’s chest. He was reading over some ancient Latin script in the book Cas had found and they were talking idly between themselves about this particular villain.

Castiel had noticed how blunted and heavy Sam’s voice was sounded but it could have been for a variety of reasons – tiredness, illness, general blegh. He didn’t really know but Sam definitely didn’t sound like his usual self. He was sniffling frequently, the sounds of them becoming wetter with each one. He kept coughing sporadically, always aiming it into his shoulder facing away from Cas.

After about 15 minutes of going over the lore of these creatures and scouring news reports for sightings of hoof-prints near where victims were found, Cas noticed Sam pull away suddenly, swiping his hand beneath his nose. Not knowing exactly what was happening, Cas watched in awe as Sam’s expression wavered, his mouth falling open slightly as his head tipped back. The most extraordinary thing that Cas noticed though, was that Sam’s eyes were trained upwards, seemingly squinting at the light, his body trying to coerce him to close his eyes against the bright contrast but Sam was apparently trying to keep them open against his instincts. He remained in this position for a handful of seconds before his breath started to come in short little gasps, his shoulders hunching up rhythmically with each one. Cas watched as Sam’s nostrils began to flare in sync with his breathing, until they started to expand with a more jagged vigour, out of sync with everything else Sam’s body was doing.

There were a few terse seconds when Sam seemed to drag in one sharp inhale, his entire physique tensed as though preparing for something before everything Cas was unaware he was preparing for suddenly came exploding out in a violent:

“hh’TSSCHh’iu!”

Cas hadn’t realized that Sam’s actions were preparations for a sneeze; he had never seen anyone react in such a way before they expelled one. The force of the blast also seemed to catch Sam by surprise, rendering his body to the side reflexively. While the trajectory missed Cas completely, Sam seemed unable to catch the entirety of it in his palm (which he had smothered across his face, like Cas had been taught to do) and ended up sneezing across the book they were reading.

Cas took note of the sudden flush to Sam’s cheeks afterwards as he recovered in a sniffly aftermath but still managed to state a solemn “Bless you, Sam,” to the younger hunter. Sam had just apologized and grabbed a napkin from his pocket, blowing a little before disposing of it and returning to their research like nothing had ever happened.

Nothing was ever mentioned to Dean because… well, why would it be? At the time, Cas didn’t see it as anything noteworthy or even worth mentioning. It was one sneeze. Okay, so he had concluded that Sam was sick, but given the way that Dean’s scrutiny was much more attuned than Castiel’s, he had assumed that the older Winchester was already aware and taking the necessary precautions. Cas knew very little about caring for sick people – without his ability to just zap them better, he was at a loss.

The first inclination that Cas maybe should have noted that scenario as being something worth noticing was the previous day. It had all started with an impending need deep within his sinuses that licked lazily at the sensitive lining in his nose. It panicked him initially but luckily, he had been alone the first time he felt it and after a few seconds of sheer terror about what was happening to him, he had realized what it was: a sneeze. He had never experienced the sensation before but he had seen both brothers yield to the provocation numerous times so realized shortly after the expulsion what it was. Sam had gone into great detail previously when Castiel had asked about it the first time about what it was and what it meant, that something was irritating the lining of the nose and sneezing was the body’s way of ensuring that a potential threat to its immune system was expelled instantly but Cas had to admit that he didn’t care for it. The way in which his body reacted without his command, his eyes closing, muscles tensing, breath wavering as the sensation waxed and waned until it ignited into an explosion.

Not only was the build up to it annoyingly ticklish but the release was always pitifully soft and delicate in comparison with both of the brother’s. They had always been so loud, so forceful, their sneezes sounding incredibly satisfying in ways which Castiel never knew he craved. Whenever he had sneezed recently, they had been so quiet, the sound barely louder than a whisper and always left his body in want of another until he either capitulated or staved it off. He wasn’t sure if this was due to the derisory force of them or if that was just the way his vessel was programmed – he had seen strangers surrender to hapless fits of several before, which were contrasting to the Winchester’s one or two – but either way, it was vexatious.

Due to the size and sound of his expulsions, Castiel had gone to great lengths to hide these from the brothers. Some of the times, he was able to fight it off with his sheer force of will by holding his breath or pinching his nostrils shut, but since the previous day, this had started to become more and more difficult. Each twinge in his sinuses was becoming more urgent and persistent than the last, resulting in a pitiful expulsion much quicker than he had relinquished previously. There had been occasions where he was able to excuse himself, barricaded himself in one of the bedrooms or the bathroom and allowing the sensation to take over but there had been the odd occasion where he had been unable to do either of these and accidentally released one in front of them.

Whenever this happened, he was momentarily thankful for the polite, petite sound and force that they boasted, but he soon lamented this thought when his nose seized with want for another. Still, they were at least quiet enough to avoid any unwanted attention from either brother. Well, they had been up until a few moments ago. There had been an attack of four of these… atrocities, a handful of seconds separating each one and whilst neither of them had concluded that it was Cas that had produced them, they had certainly piqued the brother’s interests, Dean’s especially.

“Did you guys hear that?” Cas had just emitted the fourth outburst is as many minutes, causing Dean to lift his head from the book he was reading, looking across at both Castiel and Sam. Sam was sat at the opposite end of the table in the library and Cas was tucked away on one of the sofas. It was lucky, really, because he was able to huddle himself down into himself, smothering his face with his coat whenever it happened. They also didn’t produce much movement from his body, just a slight jerk of the muscles of his abdomen and biceps – aside from the contraction of his facial muscles, but they were easily hidden.

Sam didn’t even bother lifting his gaze from the laptop, just continued to click away as he tried to sniffle discreetly in an attempt to clear his nose before responding to his brother, which was honestly barely even a response at all: “Hear whad?”

Dean squinted and looked around the room until his eyes came to rest on the ex-angel sprawled out across the sofa. It wasn’t Cas’s usual demeanour but over the past few hours, he had felt himself becoming increasingly tired, more so than usual, and his muscles had begun to sport a dull ache which panned across his entire body and lying down provided him with more gratification than sitting. He never considered that it may have looked rather peculiar, but then it never struck him to consider speaking to the brothers about his increasingly frequent sneezing. He just assumed it was what humans did, some more so than others. He just concluded that he was one of those humans that apparently sneezed a lot.

Cas sat there sniffling as discreetly as he could, swiping a coat sleeve against the underside of his nose which was becoming more painful the more he did that. Not to mention that the frequency of the sneezing was causing it to feel as though as it was being stuffed with something, as though the irritants inside were multiplying and filling the entirety of his nasal cavities as opposed to being expelled by the release. And they were also beginning to run out which was possibly the most annoying thing. Hence Cas’s coat sleeve beneath his nose. He momentarily wished for a napkin or something to perform the action he had seen Sam perform a couple of days ago but he dared not ask. Instead, he just lay silently, sniffling and rubbing in an endless procession.

Dean had his eyes now resting upon Cas, squinting quizzically at him, but Cas just averted his gaze quickly to avoid giving anything away. He dropped his hand from his face and rested it back on the book which he had in his lap, resisting the urge to sniff or rub again.

“Didn’t you hear that? It sounded like someone opening a can of soda. Like, four times.” Dean broke his gaze from Cas, his eyes casting one last sweep of the room before landing back on the ex-angel. His eyes were still disbelieving, accusatory. “Cas? You hear anything?”

Cas felt his ears burn with embarrassment at Dean’s tone, not only for the accusation that his sneezes sounded like a soda can but also the fact that Dean was questioning him. He hated being questioned. But above all else, he hated lying more. He didn’t want to lie but he felt like admitting to what was happening right now was a disaster waiting to happen. They were about to dive head-first into a case, they didn’t need Cas’s pathetically human reflexes potentially compromising any part of it. Ducking his head back into his book, Cas just shrugged before speaking as normally as he could. Which he probably overcompensated, unbeknownst to him.

“No, Dean. I didn’t hear anything.”

Cas could feel Dean’s eyes burning into the side of his head, flushing his cheeks a deeper colour than they were already. He tried to act natural, flipping through the pages of the textbook that he had already read about six times until he dared to glance over and noticed that Dean was focused once more on his own reading. Castiel exhaled a breath which he was unaware he had been holding through his mouth (as his nose had apparently decided to stop working and had begun to seal itself shut on the inside) and went back to his own reading. No one seemed to mention it again and for this, Cas was thankful.

About an hour of silence passed between them, the only sounds heard were Sam’s sniffling with the occasional sneeze, Dean blessing Sam and asking if he was okay (and not always politely) and Cas’s own sniffling which he had seemingly managed to keep within earshot of himself only. Unfortunately for Cas, all the sniffling was provoking something more sinister within his nose and he felt the soft hum of a sneeze begin to swell within his nose. He tried to hold his breath to stave it off as he had done so many times before, but his face suddenly cinched inwards, his stomach muscles tensing as his head bobbed forwards with a breathy “k’sshh!” He had just enough time to pull his coat lapel across his face, swathing the brunt of the sound as he sniffled a little in the aftermath, his nose still seizing in want of another. He kept his lapel across his face, not even attempting to open his eyes as his head snapped forwards once more with a stilted “k’iissh!”

Usually, after two, Cas had been able to regain some kind of composure and was able to choose whether he expelled the sneezes or not, but this tickle was relenting, forbidding him to open his eyes and causing his breath to catch in his throat once, twice before:

“k’sshh!-k’issh! -..hh-kntssh’!”

Gasping as the mini-fit ended, Cas snapped the coat away from his face as he heard movement from the table, desperate for the sounds to have gone unnoticed. He wasn’t met with such luck.

“There it was again. Don’t tell me you didn’t hear it?” Cas raised his head and saw Dean now standing at the table, staring at Sam with questioning eyes.

“Yeah, I heard sobethi’g,” was Sam’s response as he also stood to his feet, gazing around the room. “Id sounded like id cabe fromb… over there..” Here, Sam gestured towards where Cas was still laying, his eyes now bleary with tears from the imminent tickle which had still refused to abate.

“Cas..? Did you hear it?” Castiel watched as Dean began to approach him, sidestepping towards him without ever taking his eyes away from the ex-angel. Cas forced himself to sit upright, despite the screaming protest of his limbs and looked at Dean, keeping his face as straight amd expressionless as he could. Which was incredibly difficult with that persistent buzzing inside his skull of an impending sneeze, just a fraction away from ignition. The previous sneezes had done nothing to alleviate the sensation, if only making it worse and Cas refused to let any of them out before Dean. It was a matter of pride if nothing else. Not only did Castiel to refuse to concede to illness (which hadn’t even crossed his mind by that point, honestly) but he was apprehensive about sneezing one of his pathetically weak sneezes in front of the Winchesters. The risk of ridicule and mockery was too great, especially from Dean, and Castiel’s pride was still stinging from having to now reside on earth as a human.

He knew that the sensation would never dissipate completely by this point. He had been in this position a couple of times over the last 24 hours and realized that the only way to rid himself of this sensation was to just… well, sneeze it out. But he had zero intention of doing that in this room. Thinking quickly, Castiel acted rashly.

“Ndo. I heard… nothing. Exguse mbe..”

Standing suddenly, Cas exited the study and headed straight towards the bathroom. He had felt his expression begin to crumble while he was talking to Dean, his mouth remaining open as his eyes had started to narrow, his nose physically twitching against the sensation as it reached its peak. All of this was out of Castiel’s control and he hated every second, but more than hating the sensation, he hated displaying such pitifully human behaviours in front of the Winchesters. He was once an angel of the Lord, he did not succumb to trivial human reflexes such as sneezing and it definitely didn’t get the better of him.

At least, that was what Castiel tried to coerce himself into believing. But clicking the lock of the bathroom door shut behind him as he stood motionless in the centre of the room, it was definitely easier said than done.

However, now that he was alone, at least he could sneeze in peace. He was confident that the Winchesters wouldn’t follow him down to the bathroom – it was kind of one of their unwritten rules – and the walls of the bunker were thick, heavy and cemented. Which was perfect for Castiel right now.

Shortly after barricaded himself in the room, Cas jerked with a quick “ktssshh!” as the sensation blossomed into something impossible to keep contained, but immediately after, he felt his nose begin to flame with the need for more. It was infuriating, really. Having this reflex which was meant to rid his body of whatever was infiltrating it and not even mustering enough power to do that correctly. It wasn’t like Cas was making them intentionally quiet or stilted. It was an action that appeared to be out of his control.

But that’s when he was struck with an idea.

If he was able to control it, then maybe he could rid himself of this plight with just one sneeze instead of his body racking him with several. If he could make it big enough.

Feeling the urge begin to rise once more, Cas stood and waited, allowing the sensation to overcome him. He focused on the force of it, his muscles flexing and tensing in preparation, his breath beginning to come in deep, gulping gasps as his shoulders began to hunch up. His eyes closed reflexively against the sensation, his lips parting slightly. Without intending to, Cas tipped his head back a little as he sniffled thickly a couple of times through his increasingly stuffy nose, trying to coax the feeling out.

However, instead of expanding until he erupted, the itching just kept growing, showing no signs of relief. For the first time since Cas had been stricken down with this plight, he was able – and willing himself – to sneeze freely, but it seemed to be stuck. He felt his breath hitch with a couple of “hh-! hhh!”s before the feeling ebbed away into a manageable hum, causing him to sigh and open his eyes once more. He reeled off a sheet of toilet paper before blowing his nose, a dull ache beginning to pan its way across his forehead and beneath his eyes as he struggled to produce anything productive from the blowing; his nose was becoming too congested.

It was an unpleasant feeling but not one which Castiel was concerned about. He assumed that all of his symptoms were caused by this incessant desire to sneeze. He had been watching Sam sneeze frequently over the past few days, maybe there was something in the bunker which was causing them both to react that way.

And thinking of Sam…

Cas suddenly remembered Sam’s actions from a couple of days ago, the way that he had looked up to the light mounted on the ceiling, seemingly to coax out a sneeze. As he felt the urging rise of the tickle begin again up past his septum, Cas concluded that anything was worse than being stuck in this state of sneeze-limbo.

He pulled some more toilet paper from the roll and clutched it between his hands, the weighted congestion in his nose an impending threat to create something which… Castiel was not sure he wished to create. He tipped his head back, eyes squinting as he had seen Sam’s do and tried to focus on the light.

Pure brightness flooded his vision and it was difficult to keep his eyes open. But after only a second or two, he felt it. The itch deep inside his nose expanding, swelling into what would undoubtedly be a pretty impressive sneeze.

Cas found himself huffing out a laugh which was half a hitching breath, half a sigh. He felt a tear begin to collect in the corner of his eye before it was squeezed out, trickling slowly down past his temple.

“hh-! …-hihh…”

This was going to work. He could feel the urge rising, focusing all his energy on making this the biggest sneeze he could manage.

“hhih!-hhihh..huhhih-!!”

His shoulders were now hunching, his nostrils flaring as his breath caught in several hitches. As the feeling peaked, Cas felt his eyes close fully as his hands lifted up towards his face, the toilet paper ready and waiting for the huge, apocalyptic sneeze that was imminent-..

“hh… hihh-! HHH-!! …k’tchh!”

. . .

Despite his best efforts, all that was produced was a meagre, pathetic-sounding whisper of a sneeze which he had been producing since the previous day. And what was worse, it had the same effects as all the others, not giving him the satisfaction he needed to prevent any more-

“k’tchh!-ksshh! k’itschh!”

It was at that point that Castiel gave up. He took the wad of toilet paper, blew his nose and unlocked the bathroom door. His sinuses still twinged in ache of another sneeze but he refused. He was too frustrated with the entire ordeal – his condition, his lack of control over his reflexes, his humanity, his pathetically weak sneezes, everything. He didn’t really want to return to the Winchesters in this state but neither did he wish to remain in the bathroom and surrender to these pitiful human expulsions.

He sulked his way back to the study, flopping himself back down on the sofa where he had been laid before.

What Castiel had failed to realized was that his present condition was having a direct impact on his mood. Cas had never even considered that possibility that he could be sick; why would he? He had never been a human before and sickness was never something which he spent any amount of his time considering when he had been an angel.

If Cas was in a bad mood on just the second day, then the days which followed would outshine him – in every possible way.

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

Awwwwww!!!!! Poor Cas and his adorable kitten sneezes!

Yaaayyyyyyy!!!!

[darkness-is-the-light]

Puddin... Cas is so precious and adorable and I just want to hug him until he's well again. I adore the head canon of Cas having tiny sneezes, as they fit his reserved personality quite well (but it's also just extremely adorable). I cannot wait to read more. You. Are. Wonderful.

[MaiMai]

UM.

PUDDIN.

I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START WITH HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS.

No, human sensations were magnified in every way possible and retaining his celestial sensitivity made for being a human extremely difficult. He could feel the rush of blood in his veins, the sound of his pulse thrumming lazily and rhythmically in his ears, each brush of air sharp against his skin, each irritation, itch, scratch and burn almost unbearable. He didn’t know how humans tolerated it.

THIS IS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DESCRIPTION Cas trying (and failing ) to adjust to human sensations and experiences is the most precious thing ever >w<

Castiel had noticed how blunted and heavy Sam’s voice was sounded but it could have been for a variety of reasons – tiredness, illness, general blegh. He didn’t really know but Sam definitely didn’t sound like his usual self. He was sniffling frequently, the sounds of them becoming wetter with each one. He kept coughing sporadically, always aiming it into his shoulder facing away from Cas.

OKAY I LOVE THIS DESCRIPTION TOO AND CAS IS JUST SO CLUELESS AND YES

Not knowing exactly what was happening, Cas watched in awe as Sam’s expression wavered, his mouth falling open slightly as his head tipped back. The most extraordinary thing that Cas noticed though, was that Sam’s eyes were trained upwards, seemingly squinting at the light, his body trying to coerce him to close his eyes against the bright contrast but Sam was apparently trying to keep them open against his instincts. He remained in this position for a handful of seconds before his breath started to come in short little gasps, his shoulders hunching up rhythmically with each one. Cas watched as Sam’s nostrils began to flare in sync with his breathing, until they started to expand with a more jagged vigour, out of sync with everything else Sam’s body was doing.

There were a few terse seconds when Sam seemed to drag in one sharp inhale, his entire physique tensed as though preparing for something before everything Cas was unaware he was preparing for suddenly came exploding out in a violent:

“hh’TSSCHh’iu!”

WELP

I'LL JUST BE ON THE FLOOR OVER HERE IF YOU NEED ME

YOU AND YOUR BEAUTIFUL (I'm so dead it took me nine attempts to spell 'beautiful' correctly ) DESCRIPTIONS HELP

ALSO THAT SPELLING

. Sam had gone into great detail previously when Castiel had asked about it the first time about what it was and what it meant, that something was irritating the lining of the nose and sneezing was the body’s way of ensuring that a potential threat to its immune system was expelled instantly but Cas had to admit that he didn’t care for it. The way in which his body reacted without his command, his eyes closing, muscles tensing, breath wavering as the sensation waxed and waned until it ignited into an explosion.

That's so completely Sam, explaining it all to Cas in unnecessary detail.

Not only was the build up to it annoyingly ticklish but the release was always pitifully soft and delicate in comparison with both of the brother’s. They had always been so loud, so forceful, their sneezes sounding incredibly satisfying in ways which Castiel never knew he craved. Whenever he had sneezed recently, they had been so quiet, the sound barely louder than a whisper and always left his body in want of another until he either capitulated or staved it off. He wasn’t sure if this was due to the derisory force of them or if that was just the way his vessel was programmed – he had seen strangers surrender to hapless fits of several before, which were contrasting to the Winchester’s one or two – but either way, it was vexatious.

Due to the size and sound of his expulsions, Castiel had gone to great lengths to hide these from the brothers. Some of the times, he was able to fight it off with his sheer force of will by holding his breath or pinching his nostrils shut, but since the previous day, this had started to become more and more difficult. Each twinge in his sinuses was becoming more urgent and persistent than the last, resulting in a pitiful expulsion much quicker than he had relinquished previously. There had been occasions where he was able to excuse himself, barricaded himself in one of the bedrooms or the bathroom and allowing the sensation to take over but there had been the odd occasion where he had been unable to do either of these and accidentally released one in front of them.

POOR CAS ALL EMBARRASSED BY HIS SNEEZES AND JUST YEAH. QWQ

“Didn’t you hear that? It sounded like someone opening a can of soda. Like, four times.” Dean broke his gaze from Cas, his eyes casting one last sweep of the room before landing back on the ex-angel. His eyes were still disbelieving, accusatory. “Cas? You hear anything?”

Cas felt his ears burn with embarrassment at Dean’s tone, not only for the accusation that his sneezes sounded like a soda can

I'M LAUGHING SO MUCH OH MY GOD A SODA CAN

He tried to hold his breath to stave it off as he had done so many times before, but his face suddenly cinched inwards, his stomach muscles tensing as his head bobbed forwards with a breathy “k’sshh!” He had just enough time to pull his coat lapel across his face, swathing the brunt of the sound as he sniffled a little in the aftermath, his nose still seizing in want of another. He kept his lapel across his face, not even attempting to open his eyes as his head snapped forwards once more with a stilted “k’iissh!”

Usually, after two, Cas had been able to regain some kind of composure and was able to choose whether he expelled the sneezes or not, but this tickle was relenting, forbidding him to open his eyes and causing his breath to catch in his throat once, twice before:

“k’sshh!-k’issh! -..hh-kntssh’!”

AGAIN WITH THE PERFECT SPELLINGS OMG?? HOW ARE YOU GETTING ALL OF MY FAVOURITE SPELLINGS HOW

Pure brightness flooded his vision and it was difficult to keep his eyes open. But after only a second or two, he felt it. The itch deep inside his nose expanding, swelling into what would undoubtedly be a pretty impressive sneeze.

Cas found himself huffing out a laugh which was half a hitching breath, half a sigh. He felt a tear begin to collect in the corner of his eye before it was squeezed out, trickling slowly down past his temple.

“hh-! …-hihh…”

This was going to work. He could feel the urge rising, focusing all his energy on making this the biggest sneeze he could manage.

“hhih!-hhihh..huhhih-!!”

His shoulders were now hunching, his nostrils flaring as his breath caught in several hitches. As the feeling peaked, Cas felt his eyes close fully as his hands lifted up towards his face, the toilet paper ready and waiting for the huge, apocalyptic sneeze that was imminent-..

“hh… hihh-! HHH-!! …k’tchh!”

. . .

Despite his best efforts, all that was produced was a meagre, pathetic-sounding whisper of a sneeze which he had been producing since the previous day. And what was worse, it had the same effects as all the others, not giving him the satisfaction he needed to prevent any more-

“k’tchh!-ksshh! k’itschh!”

GAH CAS. THIS IS SO CUTE

What Castiel had failed to realized was that his present condition was having a direct impact on his mood. Cas had never even considered that possibility that he could be sick; why would he? He had never been a human before and sickness was never something which he spent any amount of his time considering when he had been an angel.

If Cas was in a bad mood on just the second day, then the days which followed would outshine him – in every possible way.

OOOHHHHH I'M EXCITED~~~

THIS IS ALL SO WONDERFUL OMG I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO THANK YOU QWQ

LOVE YOU

[AngelEyes]

This is Adorable! I love it!

[HPG]

After about 15 minutes of going over the lore of these creatures and scouring news reports for sightings of hoof-prints near where victims were found, Cas noticed Sam pull away suddenly, swiping his hand beneath his nose. Not knowing exactly what was happening, Cas watched in awe as Sam’s expression wavered, his mouth falling open slightly as his head tipped back. The most extraordinary thing that Cas noticed though, was that Sam’s eyes were trained upwards, seemingly squinting at the light, his body trying to coerce him to close his eyes against the bright contrast but Sam was apparently trying to keep them open against his instincts. He remained in this position for a handful of seconds before his breath started to come in short little gasps, his shoulders hunching up rhythmically with each one. Cas watched as Sam’s nostrils began to flare in sync with his breathing, until they started to expand with a more jagged vigour, out of sync with everything else Sam’s body was doing.

There were a few terse seconds when Sam seemed to drag in one sharp inhale, his entire physique tensed as though preparing for something before everything Cas was unaware he was preparing for suddenly came exploding out in a violent:

“hh’TSSCHh’iu!”

Okay, A. Best description ever. B. Cas is so freaking cute and I kind of love this story.

[sierraplaid]

Too adorable. You describe Sam's discomfort in such great detail, and I love your version of Dean. He's so wonderfully excellent at fussing. I love how you describe how Dean notices the subtle differences in Sam's sneezes and then go straight into: "Though when he thought about Dean’s sneezes, all he could ever hear was just one ear-shattering sound and it was done." I'm also excited about the contagion aspect between Sam and Cas. Looking forward to the next part!

[NorthernLady]

What Castiel had failed to realized was that his present condition was having a direct impact on his mood. Cas had never even considered that possibility that he could be sick; why would he? He had never been a human before and sickness was never something which he spent any amount of his time considering when he had been an angel.

If Cas was in a bad mood on just the second day, then the days which followed would outshine him – in every possible way.

Awwww Human Cas who caught Sam's cold... what a perfect setting Cas not realizing he was sick was perfect and his frustration faced with the size and repetitive nature of his sneezes, lovely. Very eager to see that foul mood you're predicting (I expect a smitting face rivaling Sam's worst bitchface ) and how the Winchester will react when they realize it's all because the poor new human is sick.