That One Time in St. Whatever (SPN, young Dean)

[Sophie<3]

Hello friends! ~

I haven't posted a story since our Secret Santa, but now I'm back.  And yes, I know what you're thinking. "Supernatural? But we already have so many of those!"

I agree, and that's why I was initially reluctant about writing it. Buuut I decided to write about young Dean and Sam. So Dean is 18 in this and Sam is 13 (and yes, all the fetishy action stays absolutely on Dean's side!!) And I tried to go for a somewhat different writing style than normally, which is what made it more interesting for me and hopefully will make it more fun for readers, too! Basically, you're looking at a third-person narrative that wants to be a first-person. You'll see what I mean. 

There will be four parts for this. I've already written the first three and will work on the final one soon. The first one is pretty short. The following ones will be longer.

Hopefully, even though we've been so flooded with (really good!) SPN fics on here, some people will still be interested in this! Thanks and have fun! Comments are, as always, greatly appreciated!

 

Title: That One Time in St. Whatever

Warnings: Language

Part 1/4

 

Outside, nothing but farmland and cows. Wide, empty roads. September glow. A clear sky stretching endlessly over it all. Every once in a while, a small town with a few houses, a grocery store, a gas station. The town’s name on the water tower. Front yards. Clean porches. Flower beds. Small-town bliss.

Dean felt like they had been driving forever. He was resting his head against the window, trying to ignore the throbbing pain. He had woken up sick in the morning, a little before John had told them that they had to go away and they had started loading stuff into the car. Sammy had been devastated at the news. Dean didn’t really know why. The town they had been staying in hadn’t been anything special. While Dean had gone on hunts with Dad, Sammy had gone to school there for a while. The school was relatively small and seemed pretty shit to Dean, but apparently, Sammy had thought otherwise, because he had been kicking and screaming all the way to the car. Dean had flinched when Dad had finally lost patience and grabbed the kid’s neck like a dog’s, dragging him to the car ungently and decisively, tears forming in the boy’s eyes. But Sam hadn't really given him much of a choice. Dean knew that.

For the first few miles, Sam had been throwing an endless fit, saying how it wasn’t fair they made him leave town so suddenly again, how he didn’t care about any cases, he just wanted to go to school like a normal kid. Dean knew where he was coming from, in a way. And he felt bad. Of course he did. But on the other hand… people were dying all over the country. Dad could stop them dying. He was a hunter, and so was Dean himself. They could save people that nobody else could save, not the police, not even the FBI. So it was their responsibility to do just that, wasn’t it? Sacrifices had to be made. He hoped that in time, Sammy would begin to understand that.

John had told his youngest son the same things, explained to him over and over again that leaving a school was a small thing to ask when lives were at stake. All of this had fallen on deaf ears, though. Shortly after he’d quit the bitching, Sammy had retreated into dark, furious silence. He stared out of the window, only occasionally looking up to glare at John in the driver’s seat, but even without words, the hate and anger radiated off him like radioactive waves. They made Dean, who was riding shot gun, feel even worse.

Over the course of the car ride, he could feel the congestion settle more and more in his sinuses and that place right behind his forehead, slightly above the eyebrows. He tried to sniffle as little as possible. Dad could be very impatient when it came to these things, and Sam was pissed off already and didn't need to be irritated further. But he couldn’t really help it. He had his head leaned against the window almost the entire time and was facing away from John, making sure he didn’t see him wipe his nose with his sleeve. At the last gas station, he’d gone to the bathroom and grabbed some of the sandpaper type of toilet paper they had there and shoved that into his pocket. Whenever his nose began to overflow and he didn’t want to use his sleeve and Dad wasn’t looking, he’d take it out quickly and wipe his nose with it. Already, it was beginning to feel slightly chapped from the bad quality make-shift tissues. Dean hoped it didn’t look too red. What was the point in suppressing the sniffling to hide his illness when he looked like frickin’ Rudolph?

Oh, and that was another thing. He might be able to wipe his nose without John or Sammy seeing it, but try sneezing in a quiet car and have it go unnoticed. Exactly. No fucking way.

Mostly, what he did whenever he felt that particular tickle in the back of his nose, was try to make it go away again, so that the sneeze didn’t happen in the first place. He would press his fingers against it, pinch the bridge of his nose, hold his breath for as long as he could…

Just now, it was starting up again. He implemented all of those tactics again, seeing as they had kinda sorta helped in the past. When he shifted in his seat, John gave him a quick questioning look and Dean forced a hurried grin, before turning back to the window and pressing the back of his wrist against his nostrils. He tried to hold his breath, but ended up sucking it in by reflex, which was enough to set him off. The itch grew to an undeniable level, and all he could do was try to make the sneezes as quiet as possible.

“Hh’xxCHh! Hh’UGkH!”

Holding the congestion in was definitely the wrong thing to do, he knew that damn well. His body was telling him unmistakably by upping the misery level instantly. Throbbing head, completely blocked nose that now seemed to have damned him to a life of mouth-breathing…

“Bless you”, Sam muttered grumpily from the backseat, which did two things to Dean. Number one: it made him extremely uncomfortable, because it meant that he had failed at stifling the sound of the sneezes and Sam had obviously heard him. And if Sam had heard him, so had John. Number two: It absolutely melted his heart. There was the kid, absolutely furious with his family and the world, and he still found it in his heart to bless Dean like that. Damn. Talk about too good for this world.

“Thanks, Sammy”, he replied, wincing immediately at the horrible congested and raspy sound of his voice.

John’s eyebrows went up a fraction, but he didn’t take his eyes off the road. “You okay, Dean?”

Dean’s stomach twisted painfully. “’course”, he mumbled.

John nodded briefly. Apparently, that was enough for him.

Dean would’ve breathed a sigh of relief. If he’d been able to breathe. Actually, it might not have been so bad if he’d be given the chance to blow his goddamn nose. But the next gas station was probably miles away and until then, mouth-breathing like an idiot it was.

In an attempt to improve his situation marginally, he asked John if he could turn up the radio. That way, he could breathe and sniffle a little louder without being heard. It also made the headache worse, of course. But, you know, small comforts.

[SpamKey]

I always feel so bittersweet reading pre-series Supernatural stuff  Poor Dean, poor Sam, dammit John  This is so adorable!

[telltale]

Aw, don't feel bad about writing what you love.  There are definitely a lot of us that love it too for sure.

I love your writing style; it's quietly descriptive, from the scenery right down to Dean's cold symptoms, which yum.  I haven't read much pre-series fic, but I really like the dynamic you have set up here between the Winchesters, plus Dean is my guy  so I am pretty happy he is sick.  Sorry, Dean.

[Anilkex]

I agree with telltale. Don't apologize! It's what you love to write, so write! And Christ, you write sooooo good. I mean well. Goodly well? Awesome.

Besides. Some people are...um...stuck...in one fandom. So...for those people, SPN stories are wonderful. And, if, those people could ever pull themselves out of the SPN rut, then other fandoms could be appreciated.

 

You know.

Those people.  

Whoever they are...

[Wow Really?]

Very excited about this story! I'm with those folks up there ⬆️ There is no such thing as too many SPN stories lol. No such thing!

Great beginning! Can't wait for more ?

[Sophie<3]

21 hours ago, SpamKey said:

I always feel so bittersweet reading pre-series Supernatural stuff  Poor Dean, poor Sam, dammit John  This is so adorable!

Yeah, I know what you mean! And Dean's gonna suffer in this one... Sorrynotsorry!  Thanks for the comment!

18 hours ago, telltale said:

Aw, don't feel bad about writing what you love.  There are definitely a lot of us that love it too for sure.

I love your writing style; it's quietly descriptive, from the scenery right down to Dean's cold symptoms, which yum.  I haven't read much pre-series fic, but I really like the dynamic you have set up here between the Winchesters, plus Dean is my guy  so I am pretty happy he is sick.  Sorry, Dean.

Thank you, that's so sweet! I'm glad you like it!  I normally prefer sick Sam, but this story has different requirements for Sam.  

7 hours ago, Anilkex said:

I agree with telltale. Don't apologize! It's what you love to write, so write! And Christ, you write sooooo good. I mean well. Goodly well? Awesome.

Besides. Some people are...um...stuck...in one fandom. So...for those people, SPN stories are wonderful. And, if, those people could ever pull themselves out of the SPN rut, then other fandoms could be appreciated.

 

You know.

Those people.  

Whoever they are...

Hmm, well, if those people were to keep reading this story then and tell me what they think, that would be truly amazing!  You know, hypothetically speaking!  And thanks!

1 hour ago, Wow Really? said:

Very excited about this story! I'm with those folks up there ⬆️ There is no such thing as too many SPN stories lol. No such thing!

Great beginning! Can't wait for more ?

Haha, great! In that case, have another part!  

 

2/4

 

Those two stifled sneezes hadn’t been the first of the trip. In fact, they had been number five and six. And, Dean began to realize soon afterwards, they sure as hell weren’t going to be the last. Breathing through his mouth was irritating his throat even more, so every once in a while, he’d take an experimental breath through his nose, which usually turned into a noisy sniffle. His body was fighting the congestion with all it had. Namely, more sneezing. For about fifteen minutes, he fought the tickle down again and again. Then, when he was looking out the window at – surprise – more cows and farmhouses, he sucked in his breath a little too sharply and bam, it happened again.

Dean pressed his hand against his nose and tried to make the three sneezes sound more like coughs. “Hn’Ukk! uuChh! Hhh’UktchH!”

Maybe he had succeeded, because nobody blessed him. Or maybe Sammy had just retreated completely into his anger and John, well, he simply wasn’t the blessing type.

The small fit of three had loosened the stuff in the back of his sinuses, though, in a way that Dean couldn’t ignore, so he brought out the crumpled up toilet paper again and held it against his runny nose. Then, he sniffled quietly and afterwards, he could almost breathe through it again.

“Are we almost there?”, Sam asked darkly from the backseat.

John glanced at his youngest son. “Almost, yeah. We’ll be there in about an hour.”

“Great”, Sam said sarcastically. “Can’t wait.”

“You and me both, kid”, Dean commented, trying to cheer him up. It only served to make his throat hurt more, though. And when Sam was in one of his moods, it was hard to get a smile out of him.

The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon. They were entering another town now and Dean was looking at the golden light reflected on the houses’ windows, when a shiver went through him. He noticed suddenly that he was feeling strangely chilly, despite the temperature outside and in the car not having changed. Then, he noticed that his hands were also cold and clammy.

Apparently, he was starting a fever now, too. On top of his other symptoms. 

Fan-fucking-tastic.

His head was beginning to feel strangely heavy, too. And something about the vibration of the window against his temple was really relaxing… The radio music in the background was growing fainter and more distant…

And his nose was tickling again. Dean was back to being wide awake instantly. He moved in his seat, turned even further away from John, bit his lip, held his breath… It didn’t help. Again, he sneezed against the back of his hand, trying to mute the sound, but there was too much force behind it. “hnn’UTcH!”

“Bless you”, Sam said absent-mindedly from the backseat. John gave him a quick look, but said nothing.

A little later, they finally arrived in a small town that looked exactly like all the other small towns they had passed through, with a school and a few nice-looking houses, a few shops, a church and the obligatory water tower. Dean couldn’t even remember what it was called. St. Something? St. Martin, maybe? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t exactly care, either.

“This is it”, John announced, but kept driving. “This is where the murders happened. I’m meeting my buddy Rick here later, but first I’m dropping you off at a hotel nearby.”

“Does he have a theory?”, Dean asked, and had to clear his throat afterwards.

“He thinks we might be dealing with a vamp’s nest”, John replied tersely.

“Great, do we start tonight then?”, Dean asked.

John gave him an unreadable sideways look that made Dean really uncomfortable. “No, Dean, you’re staying with Sammy.”

“What? Why?”

“Because”, John said pointedly. “I said so.”

“You want to take on a vamp’s next with just one other guy?”, Dean asked, trying hard not to sound too critical.

“Don’t worry, son”, John said coldly. “We have people we can call if we end up needing backup.”

“But I’m your backup!”, Dean blurted out before he could stop himself.

“Not for this hunt”, John answered sternly. “You’re watching Sammy.”

“I don’t need to be watched!”, Sammy complained from the backseat. “I’m thirteen, not two, you know! I can stay at the motel by myself!”

“Sorry, Sam”, John said plainly. “But this isn’t a democracy.”

Sam gave a frustrated growl, then fell silent again. A little later, halfway between the last town and the next, they found the motel.

“Come on, Dean! Help me with the bags”, John ordered when he got out of the car. Dean opened the door on his side and stood up. And up went his pulse. He could feel his heart pump much more strongly than the situation warranted, and all at once his hands and feet went tingly and the world shook a little.

Add his cardiovascular system to the list of things that was fucked up, then.

He tried to grab hold of the car inconspicuously to steady himself until his vision cleared and his heart had almost resumed its normal rhythm.

As he walked to the trunk and grabbed two bags, the effort of lifting them making black dots appear everywhere, he wondered whether colds normally did stuff like that to you. Not that he could remember anyway. But not wanting John to see him struggle, he lifted the heavy bags and walked on through the dizziness, trying hard not to sway. He wondered whether maybe Dad had already noticed he wasn’t feeling too hot and that’s why he had ordered him to stay home with Sam. On the other hand, the kid was having a really bad day. He really did need someone to stay with him.

Carrying the bags the few feet from the car to their room was much more exhausting than it should have been. On his way inside, Dean ran into John. Literally. He got dizzy again suddenly and stumbled against John, managing to also hit his head on the doorframe a little and almost dropping one of the bags.

“Woah, watch your step, Dean”, was all Dad said.

“Sorry, Sir”, Dean mumbled, then dropped the bags with a sigh of relief. Next, he sat down on one of the beds, only for a second, and put his throbbing head in his hands. Tilting his head like that made his nose run again. He glanced at the door quickly and when he saw that John had left, judged that he would have the time to go blow his nose in private real quick. Getting up off the bed was another thing that ended up requiring more strength than it should have. Sniffling thickly, Dean made it to the bathroom, where he was happy to find a tissue box. He grabbed one, placed it over his nose and blew for a long time. Then, he threw the used tissue away, sniffled the last bit of congestion away and washed his hands. He wanted to hurry back out to the car before John could start wondering what he was doing, but when he turned around, the tickle in his nose flared back up. He paused, caught a glance at his own reflection in the mirror – pasty-faced and teary-eyed – and ended up sneezing openly for the first time that day. “hh’USHh!! Hhh’ISHhhhUah! Hh… hhh…ETt’chHH!”

Afterwards, he had to blow his nose again and he did it as quickly as he could, steadying himself with one hand against the wall when the force of the blow sent another wave of dizziness over him.

Back outside, John was busy arguing with Sammy, who was refusing to leave the backseat.

“You get out of there, right now!”, John demanded loudly, obviously losing his patience.

“No!”, Sam yelled in response, all crossed arms and furious glare. “I don’t even want to be here! I want to be back in Beaver Creek!”

“Beaver Creek”, John snorted. “Sam, there was nothing special about that town.”

“Yes, there was”, Sam growled angrily. “You just don’t understand.”

“What I do understand, though”, John said, lowering his voice dangerously, “is that people have died here and more are going to die if I don’t do anything! If that’s not a good enough reason for you to…”

“You never gave me a choice!”, Sam interrupted heatedly.

This was when John noticed Dean standing on the steps and turned around to him. “Dean, will you get your brother out the car please? I need to call Rick.”

“Sure”, Dean replied and walked towards the car as steadily as he could.

“Sam”, he said then, beginning softly and squatting down a little so their faces were on the same level. “Just come inside with me, okay?”

“No”, Sam said more quietly but with the same intensity. “I never even wanted to be here, Dean!”

“I know. Sucks to be us, yeah. But how is staying in that car going to help?”

Sam, who had been facing the window on the other side of the car demonstratively, was turning to Dean now and looking straight at him. “Why do you always do what he asks you to?”, he whispered urgently.

Dean sniffled involuntarily. “Sam… He’s our father.”

At that, Sam’s face contorted in ways too complicated for Dean’s tired brain to read. “So what?”

He sighed deeply. “Sam. Please just act your age and get out of the friggin’ car, alright?”

Stroppy wiggle of defiance from Sam. Then, finally, the kid gave in. Huffing and scowling, he got out of the car and followed Dean to their room.

 

[MissBayliss]

3 hours ago, Sophie<3 said:

The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon. They were entering another town now and Dean was looking at the golden light reflected on the houses’ windows, when a shiver went through him. He noticed suddenly that he was feeling strangely chilly, despite the temperature outside and in the car not having changed. Then, he noticed that his hands were also cold and clammy.

Apparently, he was starting a fever now, too. On top of his other symptoms. 

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Looove this fever description.

 

3 hours ago, Sophie<3 said:

“But I’m your backup!”, Dean blurted out before he could stop himself.

Aw, bless you, Dean.

 

3 hours ago, Sophie<3 said:

Dean opened the door on his side and stood up. And up went his pulse. He could feel his heart pump much more strongly than the situation warranted, and all at once his hands and feet went tingly and the world shook a little.

 

Another brilliant description.

 

3 hours ago, Sophie<3 said:

On his way inside, Dean ran into John. Literally. He got dizzy again suddenly and stumbled against John, managing to also hit his head on the doorframe a little and almost dropping one of the bags.

“Woah, watch your step, Dean”, was all Dad said.

“Sorry, Sir”, Dean mumbled, then dropped the bags with a sigh of relief.

Beautiful interaction.

 

Anyway, those are my favourite parts, and of course the muffling sneezes in the car. Aside from that, pace is great, descriptive imagery is wonderful, love the style of it. Can't wait for more  

[LeadaAlexys52]

So awesome! I love younger Dean. Specially with a fever!

I'm also going to pipe in non the - Never apologize for trying a new writing style - particularly when you have embraced it so well.

Can't wait for more!

[telltale]

Yay for fevers!    And your descriptive abilities.  I'm loving this.

[Sophie<3]

On ‎22‎.‎03‎.‎2016 at 0:22 AM, MissBayliss said:

Looove this fever description.

 

Aw, bless you, Dean.

 

Another brilliant description.

 

Beautiful interaction.

 

Anyway, those are my favourite parts, and of course the muffling sneezes in the car. Aside from that, pace is great, descriptive imagery is wonderful, love the style of it. Can't wait for more  

Awww... a detailed response, commenting on specific parts! Those are my favorites! Thank you so much for the lovely comment!  

 

On ‎23‎.‎03‎.‎2016 at 7:42 PM, Alexys52 said:

So awesome! I love younger Dean. Specially with a fever!

I'm also going to pipe in non the - Never apologize for trying a new writing style - particularly when you have embraced it so well.

Can't wait for more!

Thank you!  I'm really happy you like the writing style! That always means a lot to me!

On ‎25‎.‎03‎.‎2016 at 1:41 AM, telltale said:

Yay for fevers!    And your descriptive abilities.  I'm loving this.

Thanks! Help yourself to some more sick!Dean below!  (Did that sound weird? lol)

 

Guys, the next and final part is already written. So you'll just have to comment and let me know you want it!  And please let me know what you thought of this part. Thanks! xx

 

3/4

 

“Okay”, John announced, giving both of them a quick once-over. “I’ll be off to meet Rick. I don’t know when I’ll be back and I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try to be in touch, alright? Dean, you’re in charge until then.”

“Of course he is”, Sam said under his breath. John ignored him and only gave Dean a stern look.

“I trust you to take care of Sammy and anything else that might come up.”

Dean nodded and only hoped that he looked more certain than he felt. Because he felt like hell warmed-over. And not in the position to take care of anybody or anything, not even himself.

For a moment, their eyes locked, and even though Dean’s were burning, he forced himself not to blink or look away. Then, Dad nodded approvingly. “Alright. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

And with that, he grabbed his things (mostly weapons) and left the motel.

Sam was sitting slumped down on one of the beds, his crumpled-up jacket next to him. Dean was still wearing his and still shivering slightly. He walked over to the heater as casually as he could and turned it up. It was one of those crap old-fashioned radiators, but it was all they had.

“He doesn’t even need us for the hunt”, Sam said, staring darkly at a point in the distance. “We could have stayed in Beaver Creek. It’s not like he needs us here.”

“Yeah, maybe”, Dean said, and had to clear his throat. Congestion was constantly trying to settle in there and lower, in his chest, and his body was constantly fighting it. “But he didn’t want to leave us behind, okay? We’re safer if we stay together.”

“Then I wish he didn’t care about my safety!”

Dean sighed. He was still standing in front of the radiator and was trying to place his icy hands on it without Sam noticing, but the stupid thing was still cold. “Sam, will you knock it off, please? We’re here now! I know you hate it! But there’s really nothing we can do about it, so just suck it up and…”

He was interrupted suddenly when the tickle in his nose flared up again. After having been fought off again and again, it seemed that it had changed its attack mode to something a lot quicker and more efficient. Dean barely had time to bring up his arm before: “hhhUShH! Hhh’AShhh’oo!”

Sam looked up and raised his eyebrows a fraction, but Dean wasn’t going to wait for a reaction. He fled to the bathroom, raising his elbow to cover the lower half of his face instead of just using his hand. The sneezing was turning into a proper fit, something he rarely experienced.

“hhh’UShh’eh! Hh’UTChH! Hhh…hhh’UShh’oo! Hh’USHHh! Etch’eh! Hh… hhh… hhh’USHh’oo!”

Exhausted, Dean stared at himself in the mirror of the badly lit tiny bathroom, wondering what the hell was going on with him. Yes, okay, maybe he hadn’t exactly been feeling at his best for a few days. Maybe he had expected to come down with a cold one of these days. But literally what was this goddamn shivery, exhausted, hollow cheeks and glassy eyes business? This he had not been prepared for. A bit of a sniffle and a few sneezes, sure. Maybe even a cough, alright. But not literally feeling like he had been hit by a truck and was aching all over as a result. Not like he had been injected with some kind of slow-acting vicious poison that slowly drained its victims of all of their energy.

He swayed a little in the half-dark. The dizziness was still there, too. And he was tingling all over again. Warily, he put a hand to his own forehead and frowned. Was his face burning up? Or was his hand just completely frozen, making his face feel warm by comparison? And how the fuck was he supposed to know which of the two it was?

His nose was running again, so he grabbed a few more of the tissues, then flushed the toilet and blew his nose at the same time so that Sam wouldn’t hear it. The kid had enough to worry about. Dean’s health didn’t have to be on that list, too. Besides, he was supposed to take care of Sam, not the other way around.

After throwing the tissues away, he took a few deep breaths, steadied himself as best as he could, the walked out of the bathroom trying to look as casual and relaxed as he possibly could.

Sam was sitting up straighter now and watching him with those damn watchful eyes.

“Dean? Are you alright?”

He managed a smile for his brother. “Sure. How about you?”

Sam shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m okay. Just, you know…”

“I don’t, actually”, Dean replied, hoping that he could distract Sam from his own worrying state by directing the conversation towards the younger boy’s issues. “Why are you so angry?”

While he asked, he sat down on the edge of the bed, both for emotional closeness and to avoid passing out. But mostly for the latter. Taking a few steps had sent those black dots dancing again, but thankfully, they disappeared shortly after his butt touched the mattress.

“You wouldn’t understand”, Sam claimed, turning away a bit.

Dean sniffled involuntarily. Damn, he was not in the mood for this conversation. On the other hand, he couldn’t let Sam see how crap he felt. Plus, the kid needed him. And he had every right to whine and bitch about life sometimes. Dean knew all too well that John and him were asking a lot of Sam.

“Come on, Sammy, try me.”

Quick questioning glance. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah, sure. Beaver Creek seemed to me like just another variation of any shitsville small town we've ever lived in before, so if you could enlighten me on what was so great about it, by all means go ahead.”

He was talking more than his throat was happy with, much more, but everything else would have made Sam even more suspicious. Again, he couldn’t help but sniffle, but Sam was focused on other things, staring at his own hands. He was obviously trying to reach some kind of decision, and then an abrupt turn of his head told Dean that he had made it.

“It doesn’t matter”, he said decisively. “It won’t change anything if I tell you.”

“If that were true, most therapists would be out of work, you know?”

Sam wasn’t amused. “This isn’t funny. Just drop it, okay, Dean?”

Dean shrugged. He didn’t really have the energy for an argument. “Alright, then, Mr. Grumpy.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey! Drop the attitude, will ya?”

Sam only huffed.

Afterwards, they sat in silence for a little bit. Dean snuck a longing look at the other bed. If he could just lie down now, rest his aching body, go to sleep and stop feeling his throat and his itchy nose and the dull throbbing behind his forehead…

“Do you have homework to do?”, he asked, turning to Sam.

“Yeah, actually I do. But does it matter whether I do it?”

“Yes, Sammy. Yes, it does.”

“What if we’re never going back to Beaver Creek?”

“First of all, we might, okay? We don’t know for sure yet. It depends.”

“What does it depend on?”

“Many things. How long this hunt takes. Whether any other hunts come up nearby. That kind of stuff. And second, you do your homework for yourself, so that you learn something, right?”

It felt pretty hypocritical saying these things, considering that the last time he had done any homework had been sometime way back in his Freshman Year. But Sam was different than him in this respect. The little nerd actually thrived on learning all the things Dean had always considered pointless. And he was smart. Sure, he might end up becoming a hunter anyway, but until then, his potential shouldn’t be wasted.

For the first time that day, the corners of Sam’s mouth twitched a little. “Right”, he said. “Homework is soooo important to you.”

“Shut up”, Dean laughed, then had to cough a little bit. “I’m done with school, okay? You’re not! And I want you to do the best you can, okay? So do your homework.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll do it”, Sam said, got up, still grinning a little, then went over to his bags and found his school things.

“Do you remember any of the stuff you learned in eight grade?”, he asked Dean next with a quick look over his shoulder.

Dean’s chuckle turned into a cough, but he recovered quickly. “I remember helping dad kill a werewolf in eighth grade, okay? Now go work on your pre-geometry or whatever it is you have to do!”

Sam laughed a little, then got to work.

Meanwhile, Dean, who had claimed the bed next to Sam’s, was continuing his downward spiral. He had woken up in a bad state and had only gotten worse since. Without talking, it was hard to tell what exactly was happening to his throat, but it felt like it was swelling up. His nose was turning into an impossible combination of itchy, runny and blocked that he hadn’t thought physically possible until this point. The radiator did nothing whatsoever to heat up the room. Or maybe the room was heating up and Dean was just getting colder at an even faster rate? Either way, he was trying hard not to shiver too much, but he couldn’t keep his hands from shaking a bit. He still hadn’t taken the jacket off.

It was the kind of cold you feel when you haven’t slept for days. The kind that seems almost unrelated to any external factors, because it has seeped through your body and set up its home in the midst of your bones from where it radiates to the rest of you.

The sneezing and coughing got more frequent, too. Whenever he felt the tickle in his nose get stronger, he snuck off to the bathroom and tried to stifle the sound. A few times, it happened too quickly and he just sneezed on the bed, as he was, only managing to turn to the wall last second. He tried to hold in the cough, but sometimes it became too much and it just broke out of him.

At first, Sam was so focused on his homework that he didn’t really seem to notice, but after a while, he began sneaking suspicious glances in Dean’s direction. The older Winchester considered turning on the television, but first of all, he didn’t want to distract Sam from his school stuff and second of all, he was dreading the noise and what it would do for his headache.

So shortly after stifling a wet double that had snuck up on him too quickly to go hide in the bathroom (besides, he had just done that about ten minutes ago) he decided that he needed to leave the room. It was the only way.

“Hey, Sam”, he croaked, and cleared his throat quickly. “Are you hungry?”

“Hm? Er, not really.”

“Well, whatever. You need to eat. I’m gonna go out to get us something, aight?”

The kid looked up from his textbook. “Want me to come with?”

“Nah. Wouldn’t want to keep you from educating yourself. I’ll be right back.”

Something moved across Sam’s face. An idea. A decision. Something that Dean would’ve probably recognized if he hadn’t been so caught up in his own misery. 

Sam nodded thoughtfully. “Okay.”

His tone of voice was a little strange too, but again, Dean was too sick to think much of it.

“Great. See ya”, he said, grabbed his wallet and basically fled the room.

 

Being outside was better in a few ways, and worse in many others. It was better because it meant that Dean could cough and sneeze openly, without having to worry about anybody hearing him. For the first time that day, the sneezes brought on actual relief, at least for a little bit. And even though standing next to the highway, doubled over with a harsh cough wasn’t exactly pleasant, it sure as hell felt better than trying so hard to hold it in, it felt like you were going to suffocate.

So the good part was mostly that he was outside and walking alone. However, this also meant that he was outside. And walking alone!

Outside meant: wind, clouds moving to hide the sun, no crappy radiator, all of which equaled coldness. Rationally, Dean knew that it was a relatively warm September day, but to him it still felt like he was on an expedition somewhere up in Alaska. Stupid leather jacket with short sleeves and removable inner lining. Stupid him for removing it on the day he first got it!

Walking alone meant: walking. Which was another one of those things that you take for granted until it becomes almost unbearably hard. His knees felt weak, his legs were shaky, he was endlessly tired. A few times, he stumbled and almost fell. And he was alone, so if he actually fell and cracked his skull open or something like that, there was nobody to help him. Which was what motivated him to watch his step and straighten up his spine, even if it was hard.

When finally, he reached the next small town, the grocery store was hell. Flickering florescent lights that hurt his eyes and none of the food looked appealing. He grabbed some ramen they could cook (the spicy kind might help his throat) and two slices of pie.

How he ever made it back to the motel, he wasn’t entirely sure. He just knew that when he arrived, ready to have dinner with Sammy and then lay back down on the bed and relax his tired body, the room he returned to was empty.

Sammy was gone.

 

 

[Anilkex]

6 hours ago, Sophie<3 said:

Something moved across Sam’s face. An idea. A decision. Something that Dean would’ve probably recognized if he hadn’t been so caught up in his own misery.

SAAAAAAAAM DON'T DO IT!!!!! DEAN NEEDS YOU!!!!

(love how you wrote that)

 

6 hours ago, Sophie<3 said:

Sammy was gone.

Aw, shit.

6 hours ago, Sophie<3 said:

But literally what was this goddamn shivery, exhausted, hollow cheeks and glassy eyes business?

I have that answer. It's yummy.

And it literally is code for HUG DEAN.

[SpamKey]

Nuuuuu Sammy I know your life sucks but damn could you wait until your brother is not on the brink of death to pull a runner?!?! Poor Dean, now he's gotta go out in the cold and look for his baby brother, 'cause it's not like he's gonna just let him go...

[LeadaAlexys52]

More more more more!!! Please please please please!!!

[telltale]

Aw, Dean is soooo sick, and no, Sam, come back!  This is like an ideal h/c scenario; I'm loving it.

[Sophie<3]

On ‎28‎.‎03‎.‎2016 at 6:48 AM, Anilkex said:

SAAAAAAAAM DON'T DO IT!!!!! DEAN NEEDS YOU!!!!

(love how you wrote that)

 

Aw, shit.

I have that answer. It's yummy.

And it literally is code for HUG DEAN.

Thanks so much for the long reply!  I'm glad you're still on board here! And that last comment made me laugh!

 

On ‎28‎.‎03‎.‎2016 at 6:52 AM, SpamKey said:

Nuuuuu Sammy I know your life sucks but damn could you wait until your brother is not on the brink of death to pull a runner?!?! Poor Dean, now he's gotta go out in the cold and look for his baby brother, 'cause it's not like he's gonna just let him go...

You know it!  And you can read about it in the next part, which is coming right up!

On ‎28‎.‎03‎.‎2016 at 0:01 PM, Alexys52 said:

More more more more!!! Please please please please!!!

Your wish is my command!  (No, but seriously, thanks for letting me know you want to see the last part!)

16 hours ago, telltale said:

Aw, Dean is soooo sick, and no, Sam, come back!  This is like an ideal h/c scenario; I'm loving it.

Thank you! So glad you like it!

 

Thanks, everyone! Here's the final part now. And I hope those readers who choose not to comment also enjoy it!  

 

4/4

 

“Sammy?”, Dean called out and had to cough right away. When he could breathe again, he rasped his brother’s name a second time, hoping against hope. 

One of Sam’s bags lay open on the floor. He had left most of his clothes, but another one, the one with his school stuff, was gone. That was just like the kid. He was rebel enough to run away from his family. Not rebel enough to tell his teachers he hadn’t done his homework.

On the diminishingly small off-chance that this was all some kind of misunderstanding, Dean checked the bathroom. But it was empty, of course. Sammy was gone.

Sniffling thickly, Dean sat down on one of the beds. He needed a moment. His head felt like it was going to split open any second. The walk into town and back had been too much by itself and now he was dealing with an entirely different and much more severe problem.

“Huhh’ESHH’eh! Hh’UGTCh! Hh’UaTCh!”

Dean wiped his nose with his hand tiredly. At least, he didn’t have to suppress his sneezes now that Sammy wasn’t around. But still, he would gladly stifle a hundred sneezes to have his brother back.

Dean tried to think, but it was hard when every second he looked around, the room seemed to slide this way or the other. Things that were supposed to be steady and unmoving seemed to be slipping off in weird directions suddenly, like the bags on the ground and the picture on the wall and the ground itself.

Back of his hand to his forehead told Dean that, yes, dammit, his face was definitely warmer than normally. And he was sweating now, too, despite still feeling cold. Had it been up to him, he would have loved to kick off his shoes, climb under the blanket and sleep until he felt human again.

But he had more pressing things to do. He had been supposed to watch Sammy, and now the boy was gone. He flinched in anticipation of John’s reaction, should he come to the motel before Dean had brought Sam back. There was bound to be physical punishment. And Dean felt like, with the state he was in, a single slap in the face might send him straight to the ground.

He tried to think, think hard, but damn, he was cold and hot and everything hurt and now he was coughing again, arms clasped over his stomach, leaning forward with his eyes closed. But with every second he sat here, getting worse, Sammy was getting further away from the motel. He forced himself off the bed into a standing position. The food he had bought had been tossed onto the ground carelessly when he had first walked in and found his brother gone.

Dean had walked into St. Whatever The Hell It Was to buy their food. So Sam must have gone the other way, to avoid running into him. There, Dean congratulated himself. There was one clear thought.

“hh’EKktchh!”

As quickly as he could, he supplied himself with tissues from the bathroom, checked whether he still had the key, then left the untidy motel room.

Outside, it was even colder now that the sun had gone down. Dean began walking by the side of the road. His surroundings seemed strangely alive for a lonely country road. He thought he heard animals in the fields next to him a few times. Occasionally, he thought he had seen a shadow out of the corner of his eye and spun around wildly, but nothing was ever there.

If he wasn’t sick, none of this would have happened. He would have probably asked Sam to go shopping with him. Or maybe they would have ordered in. He had only gone off by himself so he could cough and sneeze in peace, and not for one second had he considered how badly Sammy wanted to be back in Deer Creak, for whatever stupid reason.

Three cars passed him. Each time, the noise seemed immense.

Dean was exhausted. He was shivering in the cold night air, and his knees felt like they might give way any moment.

The next car that drove by actually began to slow as it approached and then came to a stop right next to Dean. It was a battered pick-up truck and inside sat a middle-aged man with a baseball cap.

“You alright, son?”, he asked after rolling down the window. 

Dean had to cough, but nodded quickly. “Yeah, fine, thanks.”

The man didn’t look convinced, but Dean didn’t care. “Have you seen a boy?”, he asked, indicating Sam’s height with his hand. “About this tall? Dark, longer hair? Probably really grumpy-looking?”

He hadn’t really expected to get any information out of the guy, so when he said, “Yeah, I seen him”, he looked up in surprise.

“Really?”

“I’m tellin’ yah, son. I was driving out of Brownsville when I saw this kid on the road. I stopped and asked where he was goin’, right. He said something about wanting to get back to a town called… what was it…”

“Beaver Creak?”, Dean suggested.

“Yes, I think that was it! Anyway, I told him I could only give 'im a right into St. Martin’s, but he weren’t interested in that. I asked him where his parents were, and he said he was meeting 'em in the next town. That didn’t seem likely to me, you know. But then I told myself, hey, it’s a free country, and it’s none of my business.”

“Right”, Dean said and had to cough again. “So I’m walking in the right direction?”

“Yeah, I met the kid halfway between here and Brownsville. If you keep walking this way, you should be able to catch up with 'im eventually.”

“Okay. Thanks for your help, man.” Suddenly, Dean’s vision blanked again. He took a stumbling step forward, then steadied himself on the car until it returned.

“Woah!”, the guy in the truck called out. “Are you alright, son? You really don’t look too well!”

“’m okay”, Dean mumbled. “Just have to find my brother.”

“I’d give you a ride, kid, you know. It’s just that I’m already late and I have to drive into St. Martin’s, which is the other way.”

“It’s no problem, really. Thanks for stopping and telling me about Sammy. I… Hhh’UTchh!”

“God bless. Are you sure you’ll be okay? You look…”

“Like death warmed over, I know”, Dean replied, wiped his nose and forced a grin. “But I’ll be okay. Thanks again, man. Bye.”

He started walking as quickly as he could, and with a few seconds lag, the guy drove off.

At least now he knew that he was walking in the right direction. And he was trying to speed up, he really was, but it was hard. His eyes were streaming for some reason, he felt strangely off-balance…

And then, he actually tripped over something and fell forward and landed on his hands and knees. Everything hurt for a second. He closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath, but his whole body was tingling and his limbs were tired and his nose was running and his head was pounding…

He tried to get back up, his eyes still closed, but a wave of dizziness came over him and forced him back down. Everything felt strangely surreal already, and then he opened his eyes and saw her.

A woman with long blonde hair was standing a few feet from him. But she was no ordinary woman.

Her beauty was radiant. It seemed like she was glowing from inside somehow, like the golden light of a flickering candle seen through a sheet of paper.

Dean knew right away that she couldn’t be real. She was above human, other-worldly, above mundane, and above real, so stunning, almost translucent, enveloped by that glow; the center of a sense of comfort and peace.

Still on his knees, he stared at her and mumbled… “M-mom?”, his voice breaking.

A smile appeared on her flawless face. “Dean”, she said warmly and his name out of her mouth made Dean feel like maybe now he was glowing, too.

He knew that she wasn’t real, couldn’t be. It was probably just the fever making him see things. Sammy sometimes hallucinated when he was ill and burning up. The same thing was most likely happening to Dean.

But none of that changed the fact that he could see her. And he hadn’t seen her in almost thirteen years. He kept staring at her and didn’t dare blink, lest he miss one of those precious moments with her.

“Dean”, she said again. “My son. You need to find your brother.”

“I know”, Dean croaked. “I know, mom. I’m looking for him.”

“You need to keep going”, she said gently, but with urgency. “Sammy is counting on you. He is your responsibility.”

“I know”, Dean said again.

She looked at him with a warmth that he hadn't seen in another person's eyes in years. It was the way she had always looked at him when tucking him in at night, right before he had closed his eyes and gone to sleep, in those years before Sammy had come along. In those years before the fire.

"I love you, Dean", she said, speaking softly.

"Love you, too", he replied, overwhelmed. "And I miss you, mom. I miss you so much!"

"Go find Sammy now", she whispered and her image began to flicker.

“No, mom, stay!”, he called out desperately, but he blinked and she was gone.

 For a few seconds, Dean remained on the ground, experiencing an unjustified feeling of loss at the disappearance of his hallucination.

Maybe, if he had believed in angels, he would have thought her an angel. But Mary Winchester was dead. And angels weren’t real, Dean knew that for a fact. Only monsters were.

After a while, he got up and suddenly felt new energy run through him. He knew it was only borrowed energy, just like drinking and partying it up for a night only gave you borrowed happiness from the next day. ‘Sammy is counting on you’, echoed in his head as he stood up and got going again, speeding up his steps.

The continued coughing and sneezing barely bothered him. He just kept walking, determined to get to Sammy as soon as he could.

And then, only about two miles outside of Brownsville, Dean turned a corner and saw a boy walking ahead of him and recognized Sam’s walk and posture right away.

“Sammy!”, he called out and began running. Surprised, the younger Winchester turned around, looked like he also considered running for a moment, then stopped.

“What are you doing, Dean?”, he asked, when his older brother finally reached him, panting and coughing and trying to catch his breath.

“Dumb… question… Sammy. I’m coming… to get you.”

“Should’ve left earlier”, Sam said to himself, shaking his head. “Shouldn’t have taken so long packing.”

“Sammy”, said Dean, finally recovered from his coughing fit. “Look at me, Sammy.” And then Sam looked up and Dean stepped forward and hugged him hard.

“Never run away from me again”, he whispered, and Sam, who had initially been fighting the hug, began to relax into it.

“I’m sorry, Dean”, he said then, when his older brother let go, looking genuinely ashamed. “I just really need to get back to Beaver Creek.”

“Why? What’s out there for you, Sammy? That town was a shit hole!”

“Yeah, okay, maybe it was!”, Sam replied angrily. “But Dean.” Now his voice softened a bit. “There was a girl there. I met a girl. And I promised I’d take her to our homecoming dance this weekend.”

For a while, Dean didn’t know what to say. It was all a lot to take in. Sammy, his baby brother Sammy, was in love with a girl. It was the sweetest thing he had heard in a long time, and the most heart-breaking. Because of course they didn’t have a future. Of course, even if they returned to Beaver Creek, they wouldn’t stay for long.

“What was her name?”, was all Dean could think of asking, hating himself a little for the past tense he had automatically chosen.

“Mia”, Sam said quietly and in such a gentle voice, it broke Dean’s heart all over again.

“Sammy”, he said, then. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry we had to leave town and I’m sorry you can’t go to the homecoming dance. That really sucks.”

“Yeah”, the boy agreed sadly. “I didn’t even have time to tell her we were leaving.”

“I know”, Dean said quietly. “I…” He broke off, breath hitching. “hh… hh… hhh’ITCh’oo!”

“Bless you”, Sam mumbled.

“Thanks. Sammy. Will you come back to the motel with me, please? You know I can’t let you go.”

“But…” The kid looked up at him with a pained expression, probably because he had already realized that life wasn’t fair, that despite his best efforts, he wouldn’t make it to the homecoming dance and he might never even see his girl again. “But I really want to go, Dean! She’ll be waiting for me! I promised!”

“I know”, Dean whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“No!”, Sam yelled suddenly, caught up in a last bout of anger and denial. “I’ll go, Dean! I’ll take a bus! Or I’ll hitchhike. I might still make it on time! And you can’t stop me!”

Instead of a reply, Dean had to sneeze again. He brought up his arm, the tickle in his nose stronger than ever. “hhUSHH’eh! Hh’USHhH! Hh… hhh… UTCh’oo! ETCH’oo! Hh… hhh… hehhh… hh’ESHhH! Heh’UKCH’oo! Hh’EShh!”

The sneezing was turning into a proper fit. There was barely time to breathe in between sneezes. Each one tore at his throat and left him dizzier than the last. The final sneeze of the fit was so forceful, it triggered another coughing fit. So Dean stood by the side of the road, doubled over, feeling absolutely dreadful, when suddenly, he felt a small hand on his back.

“Dean”, Sam said in a small, stunned voice.

For the sake of his brother, Dean tried taking deep breaths, and finally, the coughing became less frequent, so he could catch his breath, then the fit ebbed away.

“Dean”, Sam said again, looking shocked and unsure. “You’re really sick, aren’t you?”

Dean sniffled thickly before he could help it. “Nah, Sabby, I’b just…”

But his voice sounded incredibly congested now and Sam was a smart kid. Dean realized he wasn’t fooling anybody and stopped talking.

“I thought were sick, you know”, Sam continued, still in that same small, uncertain voice. “But I thought it was just a cold, nothing you couldn’t handle. But now…”

He reached out and placed the back of his hand on his brother’s forehead. “You’re burning up”, he said, his eyes widening slightly.

“’s okay”, Dean whispered stuffily. “I’ll be fidde.”

“No, you won’t!”, Sam said, sounding alarmed. “Not if we don’t get back to the motel! You need to lie down, Dean! We need to bring down your temperature!”

The shorter boy put an arm around his brother’s waist and started walking, guiding the shaky Dean and making sure he didn’t fall.

“Does that meadd”, Dean began, “you’re dot goigg back to Beaver Creek?”

Sam looked at him like he was stupid. “And leave you here by the side of the road to die? No way, Dean. This is more important than any stupid dance.” More sadly, he added: “Mia will have to go without me.”

Dean couldn’t help but feel like Sam had just done it again: mature at least a year within a few minutes. He had seen it happen before. It was always heart-breaking, in a way. It seemed that whenever the kid acted his age, got a little bratty, did what all other kids and pre-teens do, something bad happened and he had to lose the attitude right away and step up his game.

As he gently but firmly led Dean back to the motel, stopping when his brother had to cough or sneeze and only occasionally putting a gentle, soothing hand onto his back, he seemed way older than thirteen.

The walk back was depletive and seemed to take forever and a day, but finally, they were back at the motel.

“We’re here”, Sam said softly.

“Thanks, Sammy”, Dean croaked.

Inside their room, he fell onto the bed. He actually felt delirious now. The room was spinning again. There were strange noises that shouldn’t be there. It sounded like howler monkeys or something. Like they were in a jungle instead of small-town Minnesota.

“Here, Dean”, he heard Sam’s voice beside. “Take these.”

He had pills and a glass of water. Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position and swallowed them.

“Where did you get those”, he asked hoarsely.

“Asked the man at the reception”, Sam replied.

“Huh.” Dean had never even heard him leave.

“It’s okay”, Sam said with a small smile. “They’ll make you better. You just need to sleep, okay? I’ll take care of things.”

“But I’m supposed to take care of you”, Dean complained, almost whining.

“That’s okay”, Sam reassured him, as he took of his shoes and covered him with the blanket. “We’ll just take care of each other.”

 

THE END

[telltale]

I love the way this last chapter captured the brother's bond, and what a great ending.  My bbs. 

[SpamKey]

Okay... Dean is back and being taken care of by Sammy... I can breath again

I just loved this last part! Like, the moment Sam realized how bad off his brother was, he discarded any plans to go back; his brither came first, girl or no girl! I love their brotherly bond, it's just too adorable!

[Sophie<3]

Thanks, telltale and SpamKey!  The brotherly bond is exactly what I was going for!

[Anilkex]

This reminds me of that episode in Season 9 where we learn about Dean's time at Sonny's home for wayward boys. Sam wants to go back, not just for the experience, but because he doesn't want to disappoint the girl. But Dean pulls him away, and while there's regret, there isn't regret. I like snapshots of them growing up. There's way too much potential material within the show's framework that easily combines heartache, angst, and hurt/comfort opportunities.

Loved this!

 

[gingerdean]

I really, really enjoyed this! I know a lot of people have said this already, but your descriptions were incredible.  I loved all the detailed imagery of Dean's symptoms, and the slow progression from the beginning of Dean's illness until it came to a head at the end.  I also loved how you described Dean trying to hold back his sneezes, and the ones that got past his defenses. And Sam's polite blessings throughout, so sweet.

On ‎3‎/‎29‎/‎2016 at 2:30 PM, Sophie<3 said:

He had left most of his clothes, but another one, the one with his school stuff, was gone. That was just like the kid. He was rebel enough to run away from his family. Not rebel enough to tell his teachers he hadn’t done his homework.

This cracked me up. Yeah, that seems to sum up young Sammy pretty well, doesn't it?

 

The part where Dean saw his mother just killed me. Especially when she leaves and he is crying out for her to stay.. oh my heart 

 

On ‎3‎/‎29‎/‎2016 at 2:30 PM, Sophie<3 said:

Sam looked at him like he was stupid. “And leave you here by the side of the road to die? No way, Dean. This is more important than any stupid dance.” More sadly, he added: “Mia will have to go without me.”

Gahh, so many feels packed into this little part. How the worry over his brother automatically trumps all else, and just like that, the dance that was the only thing that Sam cared about until then was just a 'stupid dance'.  And then the sad acceptance. Poor Sammy.

On ‎3‎/‎29‎/‎2016 at 2:30 PM, Sophie<3 said:

“That’s okay”, Sam reassured him, as he took of his shoes and covered him with the blanket. “We’ll just take care of each other.”

Perfect last line. Sums everything up about the boys just perfectly. I doubt Dean would ever see it that way, but it's so true.

Awesome job on this!  And I'll just go ahead and echo everyone else-  nope, there can never be too many SPN fics! As you can see, there are a lot of us out here that just can't get enough of it.. .

 

 

[Sophie<3]

Ooh, more replies. Fun!

19 hours ago, Anilkex said:

This reminds me of that episode in Season 9 where we learn about Dean's time at Sonny's home for wayward boys. Sam wants to go back, not just for the experience, but because he doesn't want to disappoint the girl. But Dean pulls him away, and while there's regret, there isn't regret. I like snapshots of them growing up. There's way too much potential material within the show's framework that easily combines heartache, angst, and hurt/comfort opportunities.

Loved this!

Oh, yes, now that you mention it, I remember it a little bit...? I didn't have it in mind, though, when I wrote this. I should probably try to rewatch it.  
Thank you! I agree, there's a lot of potential for all those things, which is why this story came pretty easily to me. Really happy you liked it, especially since you write a lot of SPN yourself!

12 hours ago, gingerdean said:

I really, really enjoyed this! I know a lot of people have said this already, but your descriptions were incredible.  I loved all the detailed imagery of Dean's symptoms, and the slow progression from the beginning of Dean's illness until it came to a head at the end.  I also loved how you described Dean trying to hold back his sneezes, and the ones that got past his defenses. And Sam's polite blessings throughout, so sweet.

This cracked me up. Yeah, that seems to sum up young Sammy pretty well, doesn't it?

 

The part where Dean saw his mother just killed me. Especially when she leaves and he is crying out for her to stay.. oh my heart 

 

Gahh, so many feels packed into this little part. How the worry over his brother automatically trumps all else, and just like that, the dance that was the only thing that Sam cared about until then was just a 'stupid dance'.  And then the sad acceptance. Poor Sammy.

Perfect last line. Sums everything up about the boys just perfectly. I doubt Dean would ever see it that way, but it's so true.

Awesome job on this!  And I'll just go ahead and echo everyone else-  nope, there can never be too many SPN fics! As you can see, there are a lot of us out here that just can't get enough of it.. .

 

 

Thank you so much, you are too kind!  I'm really happy that you liked my descriptions and portrayal of the characters, and especially the part with their mother, because nobody had mentioned it so far and it was meant to, um, induce some feels?  Again, thanks so much for the detailed comment! I really appreciate it!