Not your fault (SPN, OC)

March 2, 2017

The Impala was a joy to drive. She purred under Steph’s feet, responding to her every move. Felt a bit like a boat after a small car like her VW, especially with the rear-wheel drive, but that wasn’t going to daunt Steph. After getting her safely out of the garage and the first few miles flew past them without incident or uncertainty on Steph’s part, Dean relaxed somewhat on the back seat, the likelihood for a scratch free outing really looking up in his opinion. His only concern was that Steph was maybe abiding by the traffic regulations a bit too strictly and thus they were taking too long getting there.

“So who are we pretending to be today? Or are we using our real names for once?” the girl asked when she heard a bit of a respite between all the sniffling and coughing going on back there, glancing into the rearview to make eye contact with the boys.

“Meet the Evans family,” Dean smirked, pulling out fake driver’s licenses from his coat pocket, handing Steph’s to her.

“Oh, I like that,” she said gleefully as she took a quick glance at the name before pocketing it. “Lots of pop culture references. Harry Potter and Soul Eater characters, or Captain America even, you know the actor playing…”

“AC/DC. It’s AC/DC, dammit,” he deadpanned, getting the inspiration from former band members. Never in a million years would he have thought that Steph would put an entirely different, geeky spin on it. Though he should have anticipated it.

Sam snickered beside him, earning himself a lackluster punch in the shoulder from his brother. Teasing Dean with a partner in crime was way too much fun. Though the sneeze that followed definitely wasn’t. Instant karma.

“HUH’ghrshshoum-uh…” they still hurt like nobody’s business. Sam fumbled for his last tissue in his coat pockets, dabbing his raw nose gingerly.

“Yeah, that too,” Steph waved Dean off dismissively with a laugh. “So who am I? Little sister?”

“Actually wife and sister-in-law…” the older Winchester revealed almost shyly. That might have been a foregone conclusion, now that he thought about it, especially since he came up with the cover story and aliases way before he even knew of his feelings for Steph. It just seemed convenient. Especially at places like the doctor’s. Although the sister cover could have served the “next of kin” purpose just the same… Yeah, that might have been solely his subconscious talking with that one. “If you don’t mind that is.”

“No, it’s cool,” she nonchalantly remarked, but internally her mind was spinning a hundred mile an hour. Holy shit, that was unexpected. Even if only pretend… Dean didn’t seem like the person to get tied down. Or would want to for that matter. Yet he came up with it… all on his own. What exactly did that mean regarding the nature of their relationship?

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, only punctuated by the occasional sneezing from the back. Steph could tell exactly who the culprit was each time, the sounds they made were so distinguishable, even though both could be quite forceful – and manly if you asked her. Sam’s were almost always very sudden, with a sharp, loud inhale, rolling off with a sort of throaty “r” sound, ending with him trying to soften, almost swallow the end then just having to let the air out anyway, resembling somewhat of a moan. Dean on the other hand tended to silently – or sometimes not so silently – build up for longer, his expression forewarning those in the vicinity that the sneeze was coming, the ending being more forceful with its wet “ksh” sound, just letting it out. At least when he wasn’t stifling, which fortunately on Steph’s insistence he wasn’t doing too often.

No one was particularly in the mood for music, the boys too headachy and miserable. Steph was deep in thought, only realizing that she hadn’t looked up the address of where they were going on Google when they were already at the town limits. She fished her phone out with one hand from her bag, awkwardly leaning to the side and making sure to keep Baby steady.

“Hey! Eyes on the road, missy!” Dean snapped at her when he realized what she was doing as she tried to bring up the app on the device, suddenly envisioning all kinds of catastrophes happening to them, even though Steph hasn’t even swerved an inch from the center of the lane during this whole time. She was a pretty good driver actually.

“You check the address then, hubby of mine,” she chuckled as she handed it over her right shoulder, enjoying the stunned expression on his face at the endearment maybe just a tad too much in the rearview.

“Gimme that!” he grumbled, snatching the phone to input the search, then speaking up again in a few seconds. “Go left at the next light.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Steph gave him a mock salute, earning herself an eye roll, which promptly made Dean groan in discomfort, because it aggravated his headache. Her amusement instantly turned into concern. “We are almost there, don’t worry.”

The parking spaces right in front of the clinic were all full much to their dismay, so they had to park about a block down the street, which normally wouldn’t have been a problem, but the boys weren’t the steadiest on their feet at the moment. Their sense of pride would never let them complain though. Steph eased the Impala into the space on her first try, without any corrections needed, which seriously impressed Dean, although he was getting the feeling she must have driven a muscle car before in the past. You just can’t be that good on your very first.

They somehow clambered out of the car, all shivery when the morning air hit them, then flanked Steph from both sides as they walked down the street at a moderate pace to the urgent care, where – immediately after stepping in through the two sets of glass sliding doors – the reason behind the lack of parking became pretty evident. The waiting room was packed… great. They were going to be there for hours.

Dean made a face of mild disgust at the prospect as he eyed all the sick people around them. For being a hunter his slight germaphobia was diverting to watch. It wasn’t debilitating in any sense of the word, he just sucked it up most of the time, but one would think that given the nasties that he came into contact with on a daily basis his threshold would be fairly high, but no… snotty, sneezy, coughing strangers got him every time. Even if logically speaking right now he was probably one of the sickest people in there. On the other hand he had never shown any kind of discomfort when he dealt with his brother or his lovely fellow legacy if they were the ones sick. Family was a different matter.

Steph sent the two Winchesters off vehemently to go sit down before they keeled over, while she went up to the front desk to get them signed in and obtain those pesky patient health questionnaires to fill out.

“Name? Nature of the problem?” the nurse asked in a mildly bored tone that almost had Steph raising her eyebrows. No “hi”, “good morning” or anything? Why work in healthcare if you can’t muster the minimal courtesy and compassion towards the people who come through the doors?

“Dean Evans and Samuel Evans, the flu for both,” she said pleasantly anyway, sort of proud of herself for not messing up the names as she handed over the IDs so the woman could pencil them in.

Dolores, according to her name tag – oh the irony and how befitting – glanced up with a look that told everything about her opinion on grown men needing an escort to the doctor’s, having their women wait on their hands and feet while they wrestled the “man flu”, which she probably thought was just a bad head cold. Steph seriously wanted to slap the plump woman. She never understood why this gender stereotype came to be in the first place and quite honestly took offence in it. Not to mention that she was a 100% sure that Sam and Dean were not playing up their symptoms. They would literally be the last people on Earth to admit to feeling unwell when sick, much less succumb to it. Who did this lady think she was, judging them without knowing the actual circumstances?

“Fill these out,” the woman handed her two clipboards with the forms and a pen, disinterested efficiency in her movements.

“Thank you,” Steph told her with enthusiasm and a big smile on her face just to spite her, before twirling around to find her boys, both sitting in one of the many rather uncomfortable plastic chairs along the walls, their coats in their laps but all other layers of clothing still on, saving her a seat.

“HAE’grchshshsh-uh…” Sam sneezed loudly into his palms right the second she got there and she could see the balding man sitting on his left scoot a little bit over towards the other edge his seat, trying to get as far as possible from him with the limited options that he had.

“Bless you,” the purple haired girl chirped, handing him a tissue pack from her bag, and plopping down between the two Winchesters as Sam blew his nose – without much success – earning herself a wide-eyed expression from the earlier guy, probably in awe of her courage or questioning her sanity for willingly exposing herself to their germs.

Dean was sitting there on Steph’s right, slumped in the chair, arms crossed, eyes closed, and a hard expression on his face, probably trying to block everything out.

“Hey, doing okay there, Dean?” Steph asked softly, rubbing his upper arm affectionately. He merely grunted in response that could just as well have been a yes or a no, then started coughing into his fist. He really needs to lay off the throaty sounds if he wants to avoid these fits. She gave him a water bottle, which he took gratefully, taking a sip greedily to appease his throat. Careful planning and preparedness, my friends, she mentally patted herself on the back.

The questionnaires though… it’s one thing to fill out a form like this with your real information, however personal and embarrassing it might be, so that the doctor could threat you correctly, but filling it out with false information in a way that still didn’t hinder the main purpose – getting the right care – was a challenge. Or more like a nightmare without proper medical knowledge.

Drug sensitivities and addictions? Mhm, Sam, do you think demon blood constitutes as such? Steph shook her head amusedly and just crossed that section out. Lung problems? Well, there was the time he was coughing up blood due to the Trials… Have you had recent surgery? Do stitches done at home count? Broken bones… right… too many to list. She sighed heavily.

Sam glanced at her with raised brows, silently inquiring what the matter was, but she was too focused on the piece of paper in front of her to notice, which incidentally also clued him in as to the source of her distress.

“Gimmbe,” he mumbled congestedly, reaching for his form to continue to fill out. Sam was always so nice and considerate, no matter how crappy he felt. Steph’s heart warmed, and leaned into his shoulder just a tiny bit to show her appreciation.

She gave the clipboard to him without a word, along with the pen and wondered if she had another one in her purse so she could continue with Dean’s simultaneously. And there was! Women’s bags… a land of eternal wonder.

Wrestling through the same sections was easy enough, most points she already decided on leaving out applied to Dean too. But… history of heart problems? Anger management issues? Nah, leave them empty. And then she got to the questions relating to his sex life. She leaned in towards Dean’s ear, touching him lightly on the arm so he wouldn’t get startled.

“So, how often do you have sex, dear husband? With women, men or both? Any STIs I should know about?” Steph whispered with a chuckle, unable to keep her amusement to herself, especially with all the homoerotic subtext of the Supernatural books running through her mind. And of course there were his numerous conquests among the ladies…

Dean on the other hand was very unamused by this, and his stoic glare said as much as he slowly turned his head to look at her. Yeah, that intimidation technique had never worked on Steph. She just turned back to the form with a shrug, finishing it off with a shake of her head, but she resisted the urge to make the information more interesting than it was.

Just as she was taking the clipboard from Sam and getting up to bring both back to the front desk, someone walked up to her, at first only the approaching feet in her peripheral vision catching her attention, then came the words obviously directed at her.

“Well, if it isn’t the crazy chick!”

She recognized the jesting voice instantly. It was the guy from the store yesterday. Ugh. Of course. He was in the cold/flu isle too, why else would he have been there if he wasn’t sick. She hated small towns. Only one clinic. Making her run into people she absolutely did not want to run into. Steph wanted to just ignore him, hoping that Sam and Dean wouldn’t make anything of the encounter, but he just had to continue. “Taking your equally psycho brothers to the doctor’s? That so sweet…” he drawled mockingly, looking at the slumped forms on either side of her with disdain, not realizing the grave mistake he had just made by poking the sleeping bears that were the Winchesters. For his defense, in their current position they really did seem harmless.

“Look just…” Steph started, trying to say something to make him get lost when Sam and Dean stood up, sheer willpower temporarily overcoming all their symptoms, suddenly looking very imposing and menacing as they towered over the guy, who couldn’t have been taller than 5’10.

“Husband actually, and that’s my brother,” Dean uttered in a leveled tone that felt even more threatening than if he had been shouting, despite the hoarseness in his voice. Steph could see the black haired dude gulp, probably just barely avoiding to shit his pants as he his gaze quickly jumped between the two brothers. Dean, especially under the influence of the Mark, was one scary fella. Ominous you could say. And it seemed Sam wasn’t all that far behind on the intimidation scale either when it came to defending Steph, the additional 3 inches and hard set expression definitely doing the trick at catching up to Dean in this regard despite his naturally puppy dog looks. “Do we have a problem?”

“Guys!” Steph sprung up, placing a calming hand on both their chests to diffuse the situation, turning her head to the guy with the most diplomatic tone she could muster. “Just leave us alone, please.”

And miraculously he did, probably sensing that this was the only way he had a smidge of hope at getting out of this scot-free. The girl let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“Stop making a scene already!” she forcefully whispered to the boys who still hadn’t sat back down, noticing the wary looks flicking to them from the neighboring seats. At least the fact that they were provoked was evident as well. Thank God they never really came into town and were using fake names, because she could already imagine the rumor mill starting.

Reluctantly they did return to their temporary plastic “bullpens”, though the tension still hasn’t left their shoulders as they watched the man go to front desk then sit down in the farthest corner away from them as possible.

“Was he…?” Dean began to ask under his breath, his voice breaking.

“Yes, the flirty guy from the store,” Steph confirmed quickly in equally hushed tones.

“Well… he isn’t flirting anymore, that’s for sure,” her fake husband remarked, finding great joy in that fact before he started coughing again.

“Yeah, you scared him off alright, big guy, now try and quit talking. It’s making my throat hurt to just watch,” she rolled her eyes, handing him the water again, before quickly going and dropping off the forms.

Sam was still casting suspicious glances over to the other side of the room when she got back, but kept quiet otherwise.

About an hour and a half later their names were called, Sam going in first. He insisted that Steph didn’t leave Dean alone and went in by himself, maybe a tiny bit worried still that Dean would jump the offending guy if given the chance.

Steph was seriously doubting that. Now that the adrenalin has long worn off he looked and sounded considerably worse, leaning his head heavily on her shoulder as much as the armrests allowed. Poor guy, she thought, trying to give him loads of comfort without going overly PDA, resting her hand on either his thigh or cheek, occasionally running her fingers through his hair.

“eh… ehhksheewww…” Dean muffled a sneeze into a tissue tiredly, the contraction in his chest muscles triggering another cough, desperately wishing this outing to be just over already, when Sam finally came out about fifteen minutes later. There were multiple doctors so the line moved faster than that overall, but both boys going in to see the same doctor made more sense, so it wasn’t a surprise that the nurse scheduled them in like that.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Steph asked the younger Winchester as he approached.

“Ndah, I’mb okay,” he said with a small smile. “Go ond ind.”

At the same time Dean looked up from her shoulder hopefully, giving her hand a small pleading squeeze. Alright, going in with him she was.

“Behave,” she gave a last warning to Sam, knowing that he knew what she was talking about.

“Yes, mba’amb,” Sam gazed up sheepishly as he was taking his seat. He was acting a little off, but Steph couldn’t really pinpoint the reason behind it.

Stephanie stood a bit stiffly from having sat in one place for so long, refraining from helping Dean up, no matter how much she wanted to, then just simply took his hand and walked with him towards the exam room, looking every bit the married couple they were pretending to be.

The walls in there were just as clinical, white and grey as in the waiting room, with white counters and cabinets along the left side wall and an exam table in the middle that Dean promptly eased himself down on, while Steph just came and stood beside him as a comforting presence, her hand in his.

The doctor, a woman, much to Steph’s initial dismay, came in from the adjacent room, probably her office, but to her surprise Dean didn’t start flirting with her at all. No cheeky smirks, lingering glances, no nothing. Huh. Too sick to be hitting on girls? Though that couldn’t be right, he was perfectly capable of being affectionate with her despite feeling like shit.

“Dean Evans, right?” the lady asked in a kind yet professional tone that Steph very much appreciated. Nothing like the front desk nurse at all.

“Uh-um,” Dean nodded, avoiding to speak as much as he could.

“And you must be the bossy sister-in-law, Stephanie, then,” Dr. Turner, according to her name tag, commented, again with no malice in her voice, just maybe a bit of amusement.

“Steph is fine,” she corrected with a laugh. What the hell had Sam and she been talking about in here? And the miniscule fondness in her tone… Sam’s insistence that Steph came in made a bit more sense now. He didn’t want Dean hitting on the good doc… maybe because Sam was secretly smitten with her? That kind of explained her absolute lack of fangirly response to Dean’s looks too. Dr. Turner preferred the tall, moppy haired kind of men it seemed. Of course, this all just could be in her head, Steph realized, but still, this little fantasy amused her very much, despite the very tiny twinge of jealousy and protectiveness she felt. Dean seemed totally oblivious to all of this, though his lack of attention could be forgiven in the current situation. “Don’t listen to a word Sam says, if I hadn’t practically forced the both of them to get into the car to come, they would have been happy to unnecessarily suffer for two weeks.”

Dean cast her an annoyed look, but didn’t bother to comment. He knew it was true. Well, not the happy part, but the general idea.

“Oh, I’m not judging, it was the right call. Your brother-in-law has a nasty sinus infection. He said you suspected as much, so good catch. Sam authorized me to disclose any information with you regarding his current condition and care. Also said to just give you his prescriptions too, since you would be handling their care and medication anyway. The dosing information is on there, but we can discuss it if you need, once we are done with Dean too, okay?” the female doctor explained as she handed the pieces of paper over, again with such warmth and compassion that Steph rarely saw in this profession anymore and wondered how dear ol’ Dolores was tolerated here. Or maybe Dr. Turner was the outlier after all. Then the question arose how she was putting up with all the sour faces.

“Thanks,” the girl said, taking a quick glance at them. Antibiotics, prescription antipyretics, and something she didn’t recognize, maybe something antiviral. At least Sam was thorough too. She was worried he wouldn’t be able to tell everything that went on yesterday because he had been too out of it, like the fact that Tylenol didn’t work at all and Advil only moderately.

“So Dean, I’m seeing here that you are feeling similarly under the weather, could you tell me a bit more about your symptoms?” Dr. Turner asked, setting the clipboard with his information down on the counter.

“Fever and coughing mostly,” he rasped, then incidentally sneezed with a harsh heh’gKSHSHshsh into the crook of his arm, which subsequently led to coughing, giving away the severity of said cough.

“And throat pain, nasal irritation too apparently,” she observed the way he winced a bit. “Okay. Feeling lethargic at all? Like having no energy to do anything?” she inquired further, not letting the situation be brushed off by Dean. Steph was starting to be in awe of her. No wonder Sam took a liking to her, and surely her willowy frame, long, curly dark brown hair tied in a bun and brown eyes helped too.

“Yeah… uhm, yes,” he admitted, pausing to clear his throat.

“When did this start?” the doctor asked.

“It hit me yesterday morning I guess, but I was sort of feeling off already the day before,” Dean revealed, inconspicuously taking a guilty glance over to Steph, anticipating her reaction to those news.

So he went out on a hunt with the knowledge that he was getting sick. UGH! Steph sometimes could strangle him. And now this made her wonder about Sam too. They had been fussing over her that whole day, not once mentioning that they were feeling unwell. See? So much for the damned man flu theory. And then she remembered the morning of her training session. Sam had slept in. He never sleeps in, even when they get back late from a hunt. That should have been her first clue that something was up. Which also meant it probably wasn’t her who gave them this wretched virus. On some level that was a relief. On another damn you guys for being so reckless!

“Alright, let me just take a quick look at your throat first,” Dr. Turner put on some rubber gloves and a face mask, checking his lymph nodes first, then asking him to open his mouth wide, pressing his tongue down with a wooden spatula. “We can take a swab sample and do a rapid test if you like, but with this off-season flu epidemic going on, it’s pretty much a given that’s our primary culprit.”

“No, that’s fine,” Dean declined once he was released.

“Any pressure in your sinuses?” she asked.

“Not really,” Dean replied truthfully, not reacting at all when she put some pressure on his forehead with her thumb.

“Lung pain? Trouble breathing?” the doctor continued.

“Some, not too bad,” he said.

“I see. Let’s listen to those lungs then. Take your upper clothing off down to the T-shirt, okay?” she instructed.

Dean reluctantly complied – especially not wanting to let Steph’s hand go – although his lower most layer was a Henley not a T-shirt, because he wanted to keep the Mark hidden, shivering hard as the cool air hit his fevered skin through the thin material.

“Feeling cold?” Dr. Turner looked concerned, since the heating was always a little higher in the exam rooms for exactly this reason, making sure that patients wouldn’t be chilled when they had to take their clothes off, and Dean even had long sleeves on.

“Yeah,” he nodded, practically willing himself to feel warmer, even clutching the sides of the exam table to stop the shuddering, but it wasn’t helping.

“What was your last temp?” the woman asked as she took her notes of her previous examinations down.

“It was 103.5 last night,” Steph replied this time, knowing that Dean had no idea. “The Advil helped some, and he didn’t feel that warm during the night and this morning, but we left as soon as I woke him, so I don’t have a more recent number. He wasn’t doing so well in the waiting room though.”

“No problem, we can check it now,” she said without a hitch, going to one of the drawers, getting an ear thermometer, putting a hygiene cap on it, and coming back to take Dean’s temperature, which only took a couple of seconds. “103.7, okay, that’s definitely not ideal.”

Yeah, that was the understatement of the year. The doctor then proceeded to listen to his lungs with her stethoscope, pulling his shirt up just enough to press the cold metal to his skin at the right places, front first, then the back, asking him to take deep breaths to hear the extent of the crackling in his lungs. They had to pause several times because of the ensuing coughing fits.

“Well, Dean, you are the proud owner of a case of bronchitis, on top of probably the same viral infection your brother has too. Thankfully it hasn’t developed into pneumonia yet, and hopefully with antibiotics and antiviral medication, plenty of rest and fluids it won’t either, but you need to take it easy for at least the next week, but preferably until all your symptoms are gone. I’m also prescribing you the same antipyretics as for your brother, and a heavy duty cough syrup that should help clear all that gunk out,” Dr. Turner announced finally, returning to her notes on the patient form, but catching the displeased expression on his face. “I advise you to take this seriously, and listen to your wife. I saw the look on her face when she heard you were already starting to feel sick on Saturday, so I’m guessing you were doing something strenuous that you really shouldn’t have if feeling unwell. Don’t make her worry more than necessary,” she finished her rant as she filled out the four prescriptions, handing them to Steph.

“Thanks,” the girl said again, a small smile on her face.

“If you get any worse, experience shortness of breath while in a resting state, lung pain gets worse, the fever won’t go down with those medications either, for example or have any other concerns, severe side effects to the medications, you should either come back or go straight to the hospital. The only reason I’m not sending you right this second is because you have someone to take care of you at home,” the doctor instructed sharply.

“I’ll make sure he goes,” Steph confirmed, feeling Dean’s unimpressed stare for being handled like a child aimed at the back of her head.

“Any questions about the dosing? Are you feeling sick or unwell at all by the way? This does seem like a pretty virulent strain,” Dr. Turner inquired, which again just showed how thorough she was.

“Uhm, I was sick last week, but I recovered just fine already,” Steph admitted, managing to not lie but also conveniently leave out the part that it had been as recent as this Friday-Saturday, not earlier in the week, and getting over it actually meant being healed by an Angel of the Lord. Oh, what a mess they would be in now if Cas hadn’t come when he had, with all three of them this sick. Though the fact that he still hasn’t gotten back to her about Sam and Dean was irking as well as worrying her a bit. Was he in trouble and unable to call, or just didn’t have the heart to say no, or was too far away, so just ignored her instead? “The instructions seem clear enough, but if anything comes up I’ll just call the clinic during business hours.”

“Alright, that’s a bit of a relief I guess, but you should still observe good hygiene practices, wash your hands regularly, try to avoid touching your face, because you could still be susceptible to their secondary infections. Get well soon then, and I hope I won’t have to see you again,” Dr. Turner dismissed them warmly. Steph was pretty sure Sam had different hopes, just maybe under more pleasant circumstances.That included their hunting lifestyle. He wouldn't make a move when there was absolutely no way in hell it would work out.

March 3, 2017

10 hours ago, lilysneeze said:

“Look just…” Steph started, trying to say something to make him get lost when Sam and Dean stood up, sheer willpower temporarily overcoming all their symptoms, suddenly looking very imposing and menacing as they towered over the guy, who couldn’t have been taller than 5’10.

“Husband actually, and that’s my brother,” Dean uttered in a leveled tone that felt even more threatening than if he had been shouting, despite the hoarseness in his voice. Steph could see the black haired dude gulp, probably just barely avoiding to shit his pants as he his gaze quickly jumped between the two brothers. Dean, especially under the influence of the Mark, was one scary fella. Ominous you could say. And it seemed Sam wasn’t all that far behind on the intimidation scale either when it came to defending Steph, the additional 3 inches and hard set expression definitely doing the trick at catching up to Dean in this regard despite his naturally puppy dog looks. “Do we have a problem?”

This was my favorite part of the whole chapter. It's so cute, I just can't

March 3, 2017

@CHOCOLATE <3 It was definitely fun to write

March 3, 2017

11 hours ago, lilysneeze said:

Dean was sitting there on Steph’s right, slumped in the chair, arms crossed, eyes closed, and a hard expression on his face, probably trying to block everything out.

Beautiful image. (hnnnnnnnng)

11 hours ago, lilysneeze said:

“Gimme that!” he grumbled, snatching the phone to input the search, then speaking up again in a few seconds. “Go left at the next light.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Steph gave him a mock salute, earning herself an eye roll, which promptly made Dean groan in discomfort, because it aggravated his headache. Her amusement instantly turned into concern. “We are almost there, don’t worry.”

Haha. Love this.

March 3, 2017

@MissBayliss I'm glad you like this story! I'm a big fan of your stuff too!

March 3, 2017

This was brilliant to read good job on the writing it was a lot to read.

March 4, 2017

On 3 March 2017 at 6:41 PM, lilysneeze said:

@MissBayliss I'm glad you like this story! I'm a big fan of your stuff too!

:blush:

I wait impatiently for more... :heart:

March 5, 2017

On 2017. 03. 03. at 11:38 PM, pikachu78 said:

This was brilliant to read good job on the writing it was a lot to read.

I hope it's not too long thought!

On 2017. 03. 04. at 1:49 PM, MissBayliss said:

I wait impatiently for more...

Wait no more, my dear!

After they came out of the exam room Stephanie went and got their paperwork plus took care of the nitty gritty details regarding the financials of this visit, since they had no insurance, meanwhile Dean was sent off to keep his brother company until she finished, with which he happily complied.

Overall the bill wasn’t that bad, in her opinion, just a couple hundred dollars, and was worth every cent if it got the boys better as an end result. Of course they would still need to fill the prescriptions which would in total cost around another hundred. Steph really didn’t mind how much it was, but she was definitely not telling Dean. He would just try and find a sneaky way to reimburse her. Which honestly still wasn’t out of the question, knowing him.

By the time she got back to the waiting room creepy guy was gone. Whether in one of the exam rooms or left entirely she did not know or care, she was just glad that was a potential confrontation she could skip, for the sake of the boys’ health. Oh, they could handle themselves and win, no doubt, but the inevitable crash after getting so worked up she wouldn’t be looking forward to.

A wicked grin grew on her lips as her eyes landed on Sam. She had to get to the bottom of whatever vibes she was getting regarding the pretty little doc lady, and if her suspicions were true there was teasing to be had. Honestly it was unfair that he rarely got on the receiving end of it from her. Getting Dean to join in on the fun would be awesome too, he complained about Sam and Steph ganging up on him all the time, so he could have this opportunity for a little payback. But all this would have to wait until they were feeling at least marginally better.

“Hey handsomes, ready to skip this joint?” Steph walked up to the Winchesters who were in different states of hunched over, barely keeping it together, and probably the only thing on their minds was getting horizontal, and not for the fun kind of activities.

“God, yes,” Dean groaned, promptly standing up, getting a head rush, and only Steph’s steadying hands firmly on his elbow saving him from face-planting. Sam tried to be more careful as he clambered up but still got dizzy, catching himself on the wall behind the seats before Steph could offer a hand. They were such a mess, really. Steph just wanted to coddle them until they were back to their former selves. She made sure they got their coats on then ushered them towards the exit.

“Come on guys, one quick stop to the pharmacy and we can be on our way,” she encouraged them as the sliding doors opened, thinking that first an ATM might be more prudent because she was truly out of cash now and even though she could probably use her card at the drug store, it never hurt to have some on her for later.

Steph also remembered that she wasn’t really able to stock up their groceries yesterday, but she wasn’t going to put the boys through that right now. They needed a bed and warm, fuzzy blankets like two hours ago.

“HUH’grtchshshsh-uh…” Sam sneezed harshly into one of his many tissues the second they got outside and the cooler breeze of air hit his face. He was a bit sweaty, his long hair sticking to his forehead in places as if he was too hot, but by the time they got to the car he was shivering again.

“Did the doc take your temperature?” the girl asked worriedly as the boys got into the back form either side, following Sam and leaning in to brush his hair out of his face and quickly assess his fever. He was definitely too warm.

“Yeah, uhmb, it was 103.1,” he said curtly, averting his gaze, and again Steph was getting the feeling that he was hiding or embarrassed about something, and it surely wasn’t his fever. That was pretty evident, no point in being self-conscious about it, especially after the last few days.

She let it go for now, just nodding in acknowledgement before closing his door, and hastily climbed into the front so that they wouldn’t have to sit in the draught for too long. Dean was behind shotgun this time, already kind of dozing against the coolness of the back window.

She started the car and got back on the road without Dean even noticing it, thanking everything holy that she didn’t repeat the supermarket parking lot incident of almost ramming into oncoming traffic. The pharmacy was just five blocks away and she parked on the other side of the street, happy to find that there was an ATM right there in front of her. Two birds with one stone.

“I’m just gonna be a few minutes, okay?” Steph announced, turning to the back. Dean was still out as a light, no reaction whatsoever.

“Do you have your gund?” Sam leaned forward to her and asked seriously, though the severity of his tone was a bit dampened by the fact his voice was so thick with congestion that you could barely make out some of his consonants. Would go great on a comedy sketch though.

“Yeah, right here,” she inconspicuously took her Colt M1911A1 – similar to Dean’s just newer and it didn’t have a custom handle – out of her satchel to prove it. The last visit into town was scary as fuck. She wasn’t taking any chances.

“Whad kidd of bullets do you have?” he inquired further, his brows furrowing in a way that made Steph just want to touch that spot on his forehead to soothe it away, but she guessed that would just make it worse with his sinus infection and all.

“Demon trap, I think, but I have a mag of silver and witch killing ones in here too,” she released the magazine to make sure, completely missing Sam’s astonished face, then popped it back in with one switch, practiced motion. Yeah, lady purses were a land of eternal wonder. You never know what’s hiding in there. She just wished it was a tad bigger so she could fit a saw-off with salt rounds in it too. Statistically speaking demons and ghosts were the most likely thing she would ever run into by chance and she was mostly unprotected against those with this set up. It was really bugging her. But she had some special anti-demon handcuffs to make up for that somewhat.

“Uhmb, dat soundds… prepared,” Sam remarked diplomatically, and he was quite frankly proud and impressed, but also a bit sad that the constant paranoia of the hunter’s life had rubbed off on her so much. He of course saw the little chink on that armor too, also sensing her anxiety so came up with a solution. “Take dis too, okay?”

Sam took the demon killing knife from his coat pocket, flipping it in his palm, then handing it to her hilt first.

“Are you sure?” Steph asked, her eyes wide as she gingerly took it, and ran her fingers over the broad of the blade. That was a pretty special item, kind of irreplaceable. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if she lost it. Though she supposed angel blades were a substitute but still. Those didn’t grow on trees either.

“Yeah– hah… HEA'KRSHOUMB… ow,” Sam let out an earsplitting sneeze, the momentum of which caused him to hit his head on the back of the front seat as he tried to duck to avoid sneezing on Stephanie.

“What the…” Dean jumped from the noise, suddenly wide awake.

“Bless you…” she said unsurely at the same time, looking at Sam with concern when he didn’t instantly reemerge, before her eyes flickered to Dean’s startled face, just in time to see it contort as he, you guessed it right, started coughing his lungs up from the sudden inhale. “Okay, sit tight, I’ll be back soon, then I’m getting you guys home and drowning you in meds, alright?”

She didn’t wait for a reply, deciding to just get on with business already was the best course of action. She just leaped out of the car after tossing the blade into her bag, and rushed over to the ATM to get some money, then was practically running to the other side of the street to the pharmacy. Yes, she was in a big fucking hurry.

Fortunately only two people were in front of her in the line. On the downside, a few seconds later the door chimed again, and from the corner of her eye as she was looking at one of the displays along the side wall she noticed it was creeper dude. Fucking annoying small towns… Steph almost walked out right then and there, but the next drug store was too far by foot and she didn’t want to go back to the Impala and drive there, just to have the boys wait again. So she stayed as quiet and inconspicuous as she could with her back to him, hoping he wouldn’t recognize her. Yeah, not so easy to do with purple hair and a bright teal hoodie on, kind of distinguishable.

If he did know it was her, he didn’t say anything, and for some reason that was just making Steph even more uncomfortable. She had a very bad feeling, which only intensified when the two people in front of her finished, and no one else had entered the pharmacy in the meanwhile. She would be left all alone with the guy once she gave the prescriptions to the pharmacist and he went to the back to fill them.

Just as the man’s back disappeared behind the door leading to the inner store space, she turned around on instinct, catching the moment when her stalker’s eyes flickered back from all black to their normal brown – she now noticed – color. Motherfucker! I knew it!

“Well, I guess the secret is out, darling,” he chuckled making a grab for her neck but she quickly ducked and avoided it, only to be kneed hard in her chest, winding her as she flew back against one of the glass displays from the force. One or more of her ribs might have actually cracked.

Steph crumpled forward onto the floor, trying to catch her breath, covered in tiny cuts all over her exposed skin from the shattered glass.

“I knew something was special about you, when I sensed the anti-possession tattoo, that you must be a hunter,” the demon came to crouch down beside her, mocking her with every word. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you with the Winchesters.”

Steph cursed to herself that she had parked on the other side of the road, since sitting naturally in the car, both Sam and Dean were facing away from the pharmacy. They probably had no idea this fucktard had followed her in, unless they were constantly turning back to watch the entrance, which she was sure they weren’t doing, they were just too tuckered out to be on constant high alert when they weren’t expecting anything to happen. Though even if they knew what were they going to do? They didn’t know he was a demon and had no means to fight him off anyway. She had the knife.

Unfortunately the pharmacist had to choose right that moment to come out to check what the ruckus was about, his neck instantly getting snapped with a small flicker of the demon’s wrist. That gave Steph another piece of the puzzle. Whoever this guy was, he was at least a mid-level demon.

“Now where were we? Oh, right. Crowley will be pleased to know the Winchesters have a new little pet. Imagine his gratitude when I actually deliver her as a fine gift,” he gloated. Mid-level and fallen out of grace, so to speak, at the “court”. Interesting.

Demons and all their exasperating need for dramatic exposition. That gave Steph enough time though to reach into her bag that was under her stomach, her hands first touching her gun. She could work with that. With nimble fingers she pulled it out, aiming for the demon’s shoulder as she rolled over to get a better angle and firing before he could even blink.

“Ha, do you think bullets will work on me? You are stupider than I thought, even for a hunter,” the demon jested, unfazed, not yet realizing that he had been trapped.

“You sure about that?” Steph smirked, her left already fumbling around her satchel to find either the knife or the handcuffs, since she was only buying herself time with her earlier move.

It took the demon a second to realize he was unable to vacate the meat suit, which was enough for Steph’s hand to get what she needed from her bag, spring to her feet after rolling back and ram into the guy at full force, cuffing one hand, her action obscured by her guttural yell. She pushed him all the way against the other wall where a heating pipe ran, hooking the handcuffs around it and snapping it onto his other wrist while he was still too distracted by surprise.

“You bitch!” the demon sneered as he realized what had happened, pulling hard against the restrains, the metal cutting deep into the vessel’s flesh.

Steph wondered if he could be saved, the meat suit that is, as she took a step back from him, trying to catch her breath. The wound from the bullet was far from lethal. Question was, just how long had he been possessed, and how hard the demon had been riding him. Probably wouldn’t be worth the risk though. If she exorcised the demon, it could just go and report everything about this whole encounter to Crowley. Then all of Dean’s efforts of keeping her hidden from the King of Hell would go to waste.

She sighed in contemplation, wincing around her hurting ribs, when Sam and Dean burst in, taking in the destruction in the shop.

“We heard a gunshot. Steph, are you alright?” Dean came up to her hastily, all wheezy as if he had sprinted a whole marathon. They had probably sprung out of the car and ran right over the second they heard the unmistakable sound. Which also meant others heard too probably and soon the cops would show up if anyone called 911.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she tried to wave him off, the movement causing her pain as the muscles pulled against her ribs. Man, she hadn’t felt any of that a second ago when the adrenalin had been pushing her forward. “Flirty douchebag here on the other hand is a demon.”

“WHAT???” Sam and Dean yelled in shocked unison, though Sam seemed a little less surprised than Dean, angry glares landing on the guy, Dean breaking away to cough a second later.

“Here,” Steph got the demon killing knife out and handed it back to Sam. “Do what you want with him.”

She then walked over to the counter, lifted the little divider at the left end that employee’s used to get behind the counter from the customer side and crouched down gingerly – trying to not hiss in pain – by the pharmacist, checking for a pulse, just in case, but no, he was thoroughly dead. Dammit.

Without looking back or paying attention to what the boys were doing, Steph walked inside the inner room of the store, door flinging behind her, finding no one else back there, just their prescriptions filled and ready on the table, all six orange plastic tubes plus a dark brown glass bottle containing what most likely was cough syrup. Why couldn’t he just stay in here? She stuffed them all into her bag and came back out, throwing a hundred dollar bill on the counter as payment by the cash register, only to notice Dean’s super pissed form plowing punch after punch into the demon.

“Dean!” she yelled, not getting any kind of reaction from him. “DEAN! Stop it!”

When she said “do what you want with him” she meant killing the demon, or exorcizing him, or something, not mindlessly beating the crap out of him, which was only uselessly wasting Dean’s energy when it should be saved for getting through this monster of a flu. Sam just stood there, not moving a finger, either unable or unwilling to impede him.

Steph threw Sam a dirty glance as she rounded the counter quickly, running up to Dean, and catching his elbow, almost getting yanked forward with his momentum as he threw another punch before he pulled back. He spun around to see who the hell dared to interfere with his revenge, and there was a fraction of a second where she thought he was going to hit her, unable to recognize her, or just plainly seeing red and working out the urge on the first thing his eyes landed on. Then finally the hard mask of the single minded killing machine the Mark usually turned Dean into fell away, and he enveloped her in a bone crushing hug of relief. As the side of his face touched hers, she noticed he was burning so hot she honestly didn’t know how he wasn’t hallucinating from the fever. It had to be at least a 104.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Steph yelped as her ribs protested, her whole body going rigid, trying to minimize the damage and the sensation.

“Shit, are you hurt?” Dean released her immediately, his slightly unfocused eyes roaming over her to see if she was bleeding.

“Just some bruised ribs,” she said, hugging her side to recover from his onslaught. The guilt could already be seen settling in his eyes, however hard she hoped he didn’t go there.

“Lemme see,” he said sternly.

“It can wait until we get home,” Steph insisted, wishing the attention to be taken off of her. All things considered they were in still rougher shape than her.

“No, it can’t. They could be broken,” Dean demanded, even though he was swaying slightly on his feet.

“We don’t have time for this, the cops could be here any second, and we need to see if there is a security camera first, then get out of dodge,” the girl urged, her eyes pleadingly gliding over to Sam. They had no way of explaining any of this, even if they whipped out fake badges which she wasn’t even sure they had on them.

“Huh’rshshsh-um… I’ll handdle the cambera, Deand you go get the car aroundd to the back so we cand leave widdout gettigg seend,” Sam interjected helpfully, though honestly Steph wasn’t sure Dean handling Baby in his current condition was a good idea.

“What do we do about him?” her eyes flickered back to the now unconscious demon, still chained to that damned heating pipe.

“I think the honor is yours,” Dean rasped simply as Sam stepped forward, handing her the demon killing knife again. She had subdued him all by herself, she should get to finished it off.

Her first kill, huh. Not how she imagined it, that’s for sure. She didn’t hesitate though, the blade sliding right into the demon’s heart, electric flashes coursing through him as the knife worked its magic, permanently ending the evil that lurked inside the meat suit.

March 6, 2017

Just started with this story. I was worried it was only Sam who was gonna be sick, but yay for sick Dean! And coughing. :-) Pushes every button I have. Love it. And it's long too! Thanks ?

March 7, 2017

Oh wow, now there's intense plot too! You're amazing.

March 15, 2017

On 2017. 03. 07. at 0:23 AM, Wow Really? said:

Just started with this story. I was worried it was only Sam who was gonna be sick, but yay for sick Dean! And coughing. :-) Pushes every button I have. Love it. And it's long too! Thanks ?

I know it turned out way longer than I originally intended, LOL!

On 2017. 03. 07. at 1:04 AM, Hovercuke said:

Oh wow, now there's intense plot too! You're amazing.

Felt kind of natural with everything that has been happening. I kind of prefer plot heavy sickfics anyway...

The whole thing was rather anticlimactic as the boys stood there silently and watched her do the deed. Steph pulled the knife back out, wiping the blade on a bandana, just as Sam strutted to the back to find out where the recordings of the security camera were stored, while Dean left through the front to collect the car. All very businesslike. She wondered if all hunts were like this. No added fanfare and such.

Steph removed the cuffs from the poor bloke who had absolutely nothing to do with this whole thing – just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, getting possessed by a demon – and he slumped further down onto the floor lifelessly. The whole flirting thing was probably just the demon too, trying to gauge what she was made of.

She hid the etched restraints along with the knife in her bag, collecting her gun too from the floor where she had dropped it. There was nothing she could do about the tiny smears of her blood though, scattered among the glass shards. Her DNA would go on permanent record in association with a crime scene. Fucking demons, ruining lives in too many ways to count.

After she deemed there wasn’t anything else she could do to cover their tracks, she joined Sam, who was quickly typing on a keyboard, erasing all digital evidence that they had ever been there. Or at least trying to, he kept squinting at the monitor, pinching the bridge of his nose and massaging his temples as if fighting off a very bad headache, seemingly unable to concentrate.

“Maybe just taking the drive would be easier,” the girl suggested, seeing his distress, putting a soothing hand at the back of his neck. He was burning up. It was evident that he wasn’t at the top of his game, though she didn’t blame him for it.

He nodded slightly, proceeding to just physically remove everything, along with the back-up drives too.

The two of them hurried out the back door, where Dean was already waiting in the Impala. Currently busy sneezing his head off over the steering wheel, spraying everywhere despite his attempts to cover. Just yummy.

“hksh… hi’shew… h’tchsh… heh’ksh… heh… eh… HEH’SHSHOO… ugh,” he practically groaned in pain before he starting coughing harshly. By the time he was done he was so dizzy that he couldn’t even muster the energy to move to the back seat where Sam had already clambered in. Dean driving any further was definitely out of the question too.

“Can you move over a bit, baby?” Steph inquired patiently even though she could hear the sirens of the police cars approaching on the street on the other side of the buildings.

Dean woozily scooted over and Steph had him lie down into her lap before she moved the bench forward again so that she could reach the pedals. He was way too big to stretch out comfortably, his legs cramped against the door, but his girl’s fingers in his hair once she got them moving and didn’t need her right hand much anymore to drive was worth every bit of inconvenience.

Steph managed to get them back to the Bunker without incident, no one was on their tail either. That could be temporary though, who knew if any of the other stores had security cameras pointed at the back of the pharmacy. Maybe a call to Charlie was in order. She could take care of it in seconds.

Dean was practically passed out again, his breathing a bit shallow and rattling, which Steph did not like at all. Sam was similarly worse for wear in the back, snoring loudly with his mouth slightly open and head lolling against the window.

Just when she began assessing her options for actually getting them in their beds from the garage her cellphone went off loudly, waking the boys from their slumber. Dean immediately started coughing, sending her questioning looks as to who was calling her. There weren’t that many options.

“Hey, Cas,” Steph answered after checking the caller ID, burying her head in her palm, elbow propped on the car door. The angel sure had funny timing.

“Hello, Stephanie. You called,” he said in that gravely, almost confused sounding voice, as if he was totally perplexed by that fact and couldn’t imagine a possible reason why she would reach out to him.

“Did you get my voicemail?” she inquired with a sigh, having a bad feeling about this conversation already.

“No, I have not checked it yet,” Castiel replied simply, not getting the significance or importance of doing so before calling missed calls back. Social norms weren’t his strong suit though, Steph knew that well.

“Where are you now, Cas?” the girl questioned instead getting to the topic, because if he wasn’t somewhere around here the whole thing was honestly a moot point.

“Washington, we just got here,” the angel stated. So he was most likely with Metatron. Steph doubted that Cas was into using the majestic plural.

Steph almost asked whether he was referring to the state or DC, but actually it didn’t really matter, both were roughly equal distance from the Bunker, being the geographic center and all. A two day drive at the minimum either way. She had never known Cas at full power, with his wings, able to teleport and everything, but damn that would have been convenient right about now, popping in as fast as a blink of an eye. But that was just it, he wasn’t at full power. What was I thinking? Steph berated herself mentally.

“HAE’hkgxrchshoum” Sam sneezed painfully in the backseat, the force of it snapping him forward.

“Is something wrong?” Cas asked after a few seconds of silence, clueless to her inner turmoil, but no doubt heard the thundering background noise.

“Uhm, no… Sam and Dean are just sick, but I think I have it under control, we got some prescription medicine from the doctor’s,” she decided that there was no point in lying really. It always just caused more problems than what it seemingly solved.

“I see,” the angel said, deep in thought. Steph could practically see his furrowed brows as the gears turned in his head, assessing priorities and options.

“It’s alright, Cas. I shouldn’t have called anyway. Happy grace hunting with Metatron,” the girl tried to ease his dilemma.

“There is nothing happy about hunting with Metatron,” he asserted with way too much intensity to his tone.

“It’s just a saying, Cas,” Steph sighed again, with an amused smile dancing on the corners of her lips. The trench coated man had that effect on people.

“Oh,” Castiel breathed with no doubt a bit of a tilt to his head as he processed that information. “Well then, when we are finished I could stop by. In three days probably.”

“Thanks, Cas,” she said earnestly before hanging up. They could survive three days with the meds no matter how bad things got, but she was pretty confident that by then the boys would be well on the mend.

“Did it… did it hurt?” Dean snickered at her with a loopy grin before proceeding to hacking up a lung again.

Steph rolled her eyes, already seeing where this was going but decided to indulge the very ill older Winchester anyway.

“Did what hurt, sweetie?” she murmured, brushing back his hair that despite being short was starting to stick to his forehead. He was way too feverish for her liking.

“When you fell from heaven?” Dean managed to croak out breathily before resuming his coughing. Exactly what she thought. Though interesting that this is the second time a severely feverish Winchester compared her to an angel.

“Dude, that’s a lambe pick-up linde evend fromb you,” Sam groaned, almost feeling embarrassed for his brother before he caught Steph’s gaze telling him with a shake of her head that there was no point in teasing. Dean was way too out of it. Also proven by the fact that no response came from him to the jibe.

“Do you think you have enough energy to help me get him inside?” Steph whispered to the younger Winchester in the back, feeling more and more concerned about Dean who was practically a sack of limp jelly in her lap now.

There was just a momentary flash of panic in Sam’s eyes as he tried to gather his bearings for the task, because honestly he was feeling like utter shit too. He finally nodded with determination then slowly clambered out of the car on Dean’s side, making sure that he was steady before he stood.

“Sweetie… stay awake for me a bit longer okay?” Steph roused Dean gently, making him sit up. He was so disoriented as Sam opened the front door, it wasn’t even funny. She swung her bag across her shoulder, and hurried to the other side to help Sam.

Even if she didn’t have a bruised rib, she would have never been able to bear Dean’s whole weight, and honestly his legs weren’t doing much of the work now. Both of she and Sam were thoroughly exhausted and out of breath when they finally deposited Dean in her bed.

Sam stayed and helped as much as he could – although more like watched – while Steph stripped him of his clothes, down to a boxer, contemplating if the sponging would be enough while the meds kicked in or if she should try and get into the bathtub. Speaking of which, she got the prescription bottles out of her bag, sorting out which was whose, handing the three that was in Sam’s name to him.

“Take one of each now, okay? And you should probably take a cool shower. Do you need any help with that?” she asked, desperately hoping that the answer would be no so that she could concentrate on Dean who seemed to be worse off between the two of them at the moment, even if only marginally. Sam looked just about ready to collapse too, even though he was already sitting in the sofa. Definitely cool washcloths, because without Sam she didn’t stand a chance.

“Ndo, I cad mandage,” he tried to wave her off, pushing himself out of the armchair to go back to his own room, but swayed so hard on his shaky feet that he almost brought Steph down with him to the floor when she sprung up to steady him.

“Scratch that, just take the pills and strip down to a single layer of clothing okay? I’ll come over in a few minutes,” the girl sent him off with a worried glance over her shoulder as he staggered out, glad that his room was just next door and not all the way down the hall.

Dean was shivering hard with his fevered skin exposed to the room temperature but too out of it to do anything about it except clumsily trying to find the edge of the blanket beneath him, but not succeeding at all. It was pretty thin so Steph decided to allow him to have it, helping his fumbling hand to get him under the covers. She then got his pills and measured out his cough medicine.

“Baby…” she stroked his face but all she got as a response was a rumbling groan of discomfort and discontent. “I need you to take these.”

Maybe thanks to the urgency in her tone or whatever it was, but he cooperated enough to be pulled into a sitting position, swallowing everything offered to him before basically just flopping back down. Steph tried to arrange the pillow behind his back so that he could breathe better, then placed a cool wet cloth on his head for now before going over to check on Sam.

He looked like he had lost his steam somewhere right in the middle of getting into bed, on his stomach, one leg still on the floor, the blanket haphazardly thrown over his middle. But at least he was dressed appropriately for bed.

“Sam…” Steph approached quietly, tucking his hair out of his face, which was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Did you take you meds?”

“Yeah-heh,” he mumbled, accompanied by a nod before his nose scrunched up in preparation of a sneeze. “hah'rcheh-uh… huhrraegxgshoo… hae'reeshumh!!!”

Sam tried to turn his face to muffle his sneezes into his pillow and avoid spraying Steph, but only half accomplished that goal, too tired to move fast enough or to do anything about the stream of congestion on his upper lip, snuffling miserably. Honestly he was grossed out by himself, and extremely embarrassed by the fact that he had a witness to all of this, but like mentioned earlier he was beyond caring at this point. Besides, Steph was like family.

“Bless you,” Steph just sighed, getting some Kleenex from the box on the nightstand and wiping his nose. That elicited a slightly raised brow of surprise on Sam’s part before he took over. There were limits to the sickly humiliation he was willing to endure. She threw the crumpled tissue into the trash bin with a shake of her head after he dropped it down to the floor. “Come one, let’s get you in bed properly.”

“I thigk Deand would object to that,” he chuckled with a goofy grin before coughing lightly into his wrist. At least his cold seemed to be staying out of his lungs.

“Haha, very funny,” she rolled her eyes as she coaxed him into bed, making him turn on his side at least so she could place a cool cloth on his forehead too. He was out like a light within seconds.

Once the younger Winchester was situated too, Steph rose from her crouch by his bed, trying desperately not to gasp because of the pain that shot through her torso, lest she woke or alarmed him. The last thing they needed was worrying about her too.

She shuffled over to her own room, making sure that Dean was still breathing and mostly fine before grabbing some sweats and loose shirt along with a medkit, and taking a long shower to wash off the horrors of the morning.

The hot water soothed her tense muscles some, but could do nothing about the angry reddish purple bruise that was now forming on the right side of her torso. It was really sensitive to touch and Steph could only hope that it really was just bruised and not cracked or worse. At least her breathing seemed fine, not sharp puncture like pains with inhales just the uncomfortable stretching of muscles. Before putting on her fresh clothes she was sure to wrap her chest as best as she could to avoid further damage, but that’s all she could do for now.

The next few hours were spent with diligently applying cold washcloths and towels to every square inch of exposed skin on the boys’ bodies until Steph was satisfied that the heat emanating from them was considerably lower than before thanks to her ministrations or the meds. She kept constant vigil by their sides switching rooms about every hour. The Winchesters practically slept through the day, only woken by her for medicine and some fluids to be coaxed into them on a regular basis. Good thing Steph had made so much soup the day before, it came pretty handy right now.

Afraid that Dean would subconsciously crush her against his side and unwittingly aggravate her injuries if she tried to sleep with him, around 11 PM Steph decided to just try and get some shuteye in the armchair in her room, however uncomfortable that might be. Her ribs screamed for a level surface but she wasn’t willing to leave the sick boys’ sides. As it is she had an alarm for 3 AM set up on vibrate on her phone stashed in her pocket so that she could check on them without waking them and then switch to the armchair in Sam’s room for a while.

So much for that plan. She was so exhausted and knocked out by the pain meds she ultimately took in the evening when the throbbing in her upper body became too much to bear that the low buzz of the vibrations did nothing to drag her out of dreamland. Dean on the other hand heard it.

“Steph?” he rasped groggily, feeling around for her by his side, but ultimately coming up empty and very confused by that fact. He flicked the bedside lamp on, blinding himself and instantly waking Steph.

“Mhm… hey, everything alright?” the girl asked, squinting at the bright light as she tried to push herself out of the chair to rush to him but gasped and winced in pain instead, falling back to her original position.

“Fuck, we never took a look at your ribs,” Dean realized, his fuzzy brain putting together yesterday’s events. Guilt was written all over his face.

“It’s okay, I wrapped them,” she clambered up more carefully this time, coming to sit by the older Winchester’s side on the bed, her hand practically automatically reaching for his forehead to gauge his temperature. It did feel a lot cooler, though still a bit warm. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over, but better I guess,” he sighed, coughing a little that finally started bringing stuff up so he promptly grabbed a few tissues to spit into.

“Good,” Steph breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing her tired eyes.

“You look beat, come to bed,” Dean beckoned her.

“Yeah, uhm, just gonna check on Sam first,” she was hoping that his fever had broken by now too, but if not then another sponging was in order. Dean looked just a tad hurt at first, as if he got rejected, but let her go with an approving nod. Or maybe he was just upset that he couldn’t do it himself and it was a bitter reminder that his little brother was just as sick too.

Sam was peacefully asleep, albeit snoring loudly through his still present congestion. Steph assessed him in the weak light filtering in from the hallway, happy that he didn’t wake from her touch. His temperature seemed to be at a much manageable level too. Hopefully they were both on the mend.

Despite her earlier plans she left Sam, carefully closing his door behind herself, returning to her own room where Dean was intently waiting for her, already having scooted over on the bed to make sure Steph had enough room to sleep, and casting questioning glances to her.

“He seems better,” was all she said, hesitantly standing by the foot of her bed. It was very inviting, but she still worried about Dean’s snakelike arms and extreme cuddling tendencies when unconscious.

“I’ll behave, come,” he invited her with that trademark smirk. He really must have been feeling somewhat better to be flirting with her again. Well, at least the lack of extremely high fever was an immediate plus. Though he sure was a charmer half out of his mind too. Still, the effect it had on her was much different when he did it in a lucid state of mind. More on the sexy than the pitiful side. “That chair can’t be good for your back.”

“Says the man who has slept countless nights in the back of cars, shitty motel rooms, couches and chairs,” Steph chuckled, carefully climbing in bed, trying to keep her torso as straight as possible through the whole process.

“Yeah and my back dolefully bitches every single time,” Dean muttered emphatically, visibly struggling with what to do with his hands that naturally wanted to embrace the girl by his side. In the end he just intertwined their fingers to keep them occupied and away from her hurting ribs.

“Goodnight, Dean,” Steph smiled with a shake of her head and roll of her eyes, running her thumb along the back of his hand.

They didn’t have to wait long for sleep to claim them again.

March 17, 2017

Yay!

Thank you for the awesomeness. Sick Dean is my happy place (sad to say)

Hope there's more to come!

March 17, 2017

I'm just now catching up on this, and I am totally loving it. I have to admit, the point that I got really into this was when the boys started getting sick. (The beginning of the story is great too. It's just, ya know, personal preferences and all :wink3: ) I really love all the little comments that you threw in early on about the boys' sneezing that the OC takes notice of. Like when Sam was only sneezing in singles, and then he started sneezing in multiples. And the part where she was comparing the sounds of Sam and Dean's sneezes. And then when Sam starts up with his sinus problems, whereas Dean's illness turns into bronchitis. I don't know why, but I love it when both boys are ailing, and attention is drawn to the different ways in which they are suffering. (If that makes sense at all?) And I love your OC, love all the little plot twists...loving all of this :heart:

Really looking forward to the next part!

March 22, 2017

On 2017. 03. 17. at 3:52 AM, Wow Really? said:

Yay!

Thank you for the awesomeness. Sick Dean is my happy place (sad to say)

Hope there's more to come!

Well the one I'm posting now is the last part regretfully, but it has been a LOOOONG sickfic for sure

On 2017. 03. 17. at 4:43 PM, gingerdean said:

I'm just now catching up on this, and I am totally loving it. I have to admit, the point that I got really into this was when the boys started getting sick. (The beginning of the story is great too. It's just, ya know, personal preferences and all ) I really love all the little comments that you threw in early on about the boys' sneezing that the OC takes notice of. Like when Sam was only sneezing in singles, and then he started sneezing in multiples. And the part where she was comparing the sounds of Sam and Dean's sneezes. And then when Sam starts up with his sinus problems, whereas Dean's illness turns into bronchitis. I don't know why, but I love it when both boys are ailing, and attention is drawn to the different ways in which they are suffering. (If that makes sense at all?) And I love your OC, love all the little plot twists...loving all of this

Really looking forward to the next part!

Thank you so much! I tried writing this sickfic with sneeze fetishy people in mind too, though sometimes I like the plotty sickfics better. Hopefully this caters some to all. Here's the last installment.

Three days later the Winchesters were well on their way towards full-blown cabin fever. They were DEFINITELY feeling much better and itching to do something, to get out of the Bunker or basically anything, despite the random sneezing fits and coughing that still ensued on a regular basis. Both their fevers were stably below 101 for at least 24 hours now without the help of meds, though of course they still had their rounds of antibiotic and antiviral pills to finish. Steph had to remind them not to stop taking them despite feeling on the upswing. Dean of course had some grumbling remarks about that.

“Come on,” Sam practically whined at the breakfast table after practically shoveling the food inside his mouth now that his appetite was back. His voice was still a bit stuffy but not nearly as bad as before. “Let me do something.”

Dean at least had Steph to keep himself occupied. The better he felt the less he seemed to be able to keep his hands to himself, always lingering on one body part or another of Steph’s, but Sam was utterly bored out of his mind. At one point Steph had considered confiscating their phones and laptops to prevent them from searching for cases until they were all better, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Instead she sneakily made sure to reroute anything that came up to other hunters. Thankfully that was all but one case, a simple werewolf hunt based on the signs, so it didn’t take that much convincing. But all in all TV and music could entertain the boys only for so long. Or books for that matter in Sam’s case. He was back to researching how to get rid of the Mark of Cain, which he could do from the comfort of the couch, bundled in blankets, but even that started to feel tedious to him without being able to leave the Bunker.

So this sort of put Stephanie in a dilemma. In all honesty, they really needed that supply run right about now, which became painfully evident to her when she found that they were completely out of eggs this morning, so breakfast wasn’t such a fancy affair as before. Namely cereal, toast with jam and the odd fruit she could still find. So that gave her an idea.

“Come here,” she beckoned the disgruntled hunter who complied with brows raised in suspicion. She stuck a thermometer in his mouth, motioning him to sit back down until she got a reading. Internally she decided that if it was below a 100 she would let him go get groceries, just to occupy him with something pretty harmless that would allow him to venture outside. Honestly sometimes she really believed that toddlers were easier to handle than these two.

“99.8,” the younger Winchester announced, looking up at her hopefully as if knowing that it was below the arbitrary line she had drawn. Steph hesitated for a moment, biting her bottom lip. And then he threw in the eyes. Damn the freaking puppy dog eyes.

“Alright,” she sighed, relenting to his will, going to the fridge to tear her complied shopping list down from the pad. “You feel up to a supply run?”

Sam’s head was bobbing up and down eagerly, even if the motion did make him wince a bit at the lingering pain he still had in his sinuses. He snatched the piece of paper from her and practically skipped out of the kitchen before she could change her mind.

Yepp. Just like hyperactive toddlers presented with new toys.

“What’s got into Sammy?” Dean walked in with a perplexed expression on his face, no doubt having run into his brother in the hallway.

“Apparently grocery shopping is the next big thing,” Steph tried to say with a straight face but failed miserably when she saw Dean’s despondent expression.

“Man,” he griped enviously. “Why does he get to get out?”

Have I mentioned big ass toddlers?

So as a solution she stuck the thermometer into his mouth too, much to his surprise, but he too sat down compliantly after a second. One thing they learned in the past few days was that everything went just that much smoother if they didn’t try to fight Steph’s caretaker tendencies.

“100.1,” she said, checking after the beeping. “That’s why. His was below 100.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean cursed under his breath.

“Am I not entertaining enough for you anymore?” the girl mock pouted.

“That’s… that’s not what I said,” he carefully backtracked, sensing a trap here.

“I know,” Steph chuckled. Ah, it was way too easy to tease him. “You know that does mean we have the Bunker to ourselves for a while…”

The shit eating grin that appeared on his face was just plain adorable. Not to mention sexy as fuck.

Just as a precaution Sam went east on Route 36 instead of west for shopping, despite the fact that no car with the description of the Impala had a BOLO on it in relation to the pharmacy incident, and Charlie had also made sure that there was no footage of them left anywhere that could connect the boys or Steph to the scene, hacking into every security system in the area. Still, better be safe than sorry.

“huh'rshoum” he sneezed into his wrist as he got out of the car, blowing his nose quickly before fetching a cart. Undoubtedly he was still under the weather a little bit but nothing that would hinder him in doing something as normal as getting groceries. Even if his nose was still chapped and pink.

Sam strolled along the aisles, pushing the cart casually with his elbows, leaning onto it as he gathered all the items on his list, but of course he was on high alert for trouble. That is until he got to the dairy section and the cold from the fridges hit him, making his nose twitch with a tickle deep in his sinuses.

“HUH’KRSHOO… hkrsh…” the hunter sneezed into his elbow forcefully, wanting to curse this wretched sinus infection away already. He was utterly done with sneezing like three days ago.

“If it isn’t Sam Evans, I’d recognize those sneezes anywhere,” came an amused female voice from behind him, taking the younger Winchester completely by surprise. He spun around, only to be met with the chocolate brown eyes and lovely smile of Dr. Turner. Truth be told, he really had given her a wide selection of examples back then, so it wasn’t a farfetched idea that she would be able to identify him based on those.

“Doctor…” Sam began, taken aback for a moment, but honestly he was glad he got to see her again. Though this seemed like an awfully convenient and rather big coincidence. How to test her for the supernatural without being too conspicuous?

“Sophie is fine,” the woman waved his formality off with a small laugh, none of that professional cool distance in her demeanor that she kept up all throughout his examination.

“Your name is Sophie Turner? Like the Game of Thrones actress?” he quirked his brow at her, honestly unable to keep the smile off his face as he offered a hand to shake, with his bracelet that had a silver clasp turned to the inside of his palm.

“Yes, but no relation,” Sophie confirmed unflinching or showing any reaction to the silver before conspiratorially leaning closer to Sam’s ear to whisper. “Unfortunately.”

Smart, beautiful, tall and geeky. Geez. This woman was way too perfect. Too bad nothing would ever come of it. Though she seemed interested enough. Wasn’t there some ethics code against this? Flirting with patients? Although technically one could argue that he wasn’t her patient anymore. All Sam could do was stare, unable to decide how to proceed as he got stuck in the whirlwind of moral dilemma and attraction.

“Are you okay, Sam?” she assessed him with concern. He still looked ill, even if admittedly much better than when she had last seen him in her office. “Honestly I’m surprised your sister-in-law let you out of the house so soon.”

“Yeah, uhm, yeah, I’m fine,” the hunter reached into his jacket for a bottle of holy water, pretending that he needed a drink because of his throat or something. “I kind of… khm… pestered her into letting me do the grocery shopping. I get stir crazy after being stuck inside for so long.”

He fumbled a bit with the bottle, “accidentally” spilling some on the good doctor. No sizzling. Well so far so good.

“Careful,” Sophie steadied his hand with her own, all smiles for him. Apparently she also had a thing for guys who got kind awkward and clumsy around girls, not just the tall, mopey haired ones. One could suppose in a sense Sam sometimes fit all those criteria.

“Sorry,” Sam looked apologetic as he took a quick swig to keep up the pretenses before putting the bottle away. “So, uhm, funny seeing you here?”

“Well, I live here in Mankato. I only substituted in Smith Center because their doctor was out with the flu too,” she explained, her expression suddenly turning a bit forlorn. “Have you heard about the pharmacy?”

“Yeah, we heard. Tragic, really,” he said without missing a beat, his face giving nothing away, keeping his tone appropriately regretful.

She sighed, shaking her head as if trying to forget about the whole thing, while Sam wondered if he had been convincing enough in the ensuing, and somewhat awkward, silence.

“Ookay… way to kill the mood, Sophie,” the doctor muttered under her breath self-deprecatingly before looking back up into Sam’s hazel eyes, absentmindedly playing with her long brown curly locks that weren’t constricted by the professional hairdo this time. “Do you want to maybe get a coffee or something?”

“Uhm, I’d love to…” the younger Winchester began to turn her down, although very reluctantly so, trying to be as kind about it as he could. “You seem like a great gal, but I don’t want to string you along. We travel a lot for work, and…”

“Good thing it isn’t really coffee that I was offering then, right?” she grinned, cutting the string of excuses short, because truth be told that wasn’t a no in general, just a no to a relationship and she appreciated the honesty. She wasn’t sure if she wanted anything too serious at the moment anyway. Especially not with a former patient. But ever since Sam Evans had walked into her exam room she wanted him in her bed, hot and heavy. At the time she never thought she would actually get a chance, and now that it was here she wasn’t going to let it pass just because it would be a onetime thing.

“Oh,” the hunter exhaled before suddenly her intent became clear to him. God, I suck at casual flirting, he thought, Dean would have a field day with this.

Sophie giggled at his furrowed brows that suddenly turned into wide-eyed expression a second later settling into an adorable, kind of coy smirk that told her that he got the message loud and clear.

Shopping was abruptly reduced to a hurried affair, both of them running off to get everything after agreeing to meet at the checkout line. They were out of there within ten minutes and Sam took her to back to her house to engage in some ‘not coffee’. Driving a sleek classic black Chevy certainly didn’t hurt either, the sight of it evidently had the good doctor swooning, though the deal was sealed long before Baby came on the scene.

Things weren’t going so flawlessly back at the Bunker. After preparing breakfast for Dean too, Steph had them settled on the couch, watching a movie. Well, pretending to watch a movie. It quickly turned into a make out session, which honestly left her all tingly as if she was a teenager again. No one has ever made her feel this way before.

Then Dean’s hands started to roam, which was all well and fine until he reached her chest. She was able to hide the wince that wanted to surface because of the pain in her ribs for a while, but when Dean had practically pushed them down to the side and was heavily on top of her, Steph couldn’t stop the gasp that left her lips, her face contorting in pain.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” the older Winchester backed off immediately as he realized his mistake, shifting himself back onto his heels, looking contrite and honestly a bit afraid to touch her again lest he caused her pain. Again. There’s just been too much of that this week.

“Not your fault,” the girl breathed automatically, reaching an arm out to him, asking for help to sit back up.

“Right. According to you, it’s never my fault,” he grumbled with a roll of his eyes as he carefully pulled her up, Steph clutching her side the whole time.

“Well, you didn’t kick me in the ribs,” she offered the simple explanation. It wasn’t his fault she was injured. This time neither mentally nor physically.

“You never should have been alone in there, thrown into the middle of the situation with a demon,” Dean countered, because honestly that’s how he felt. They had failed her in this. If they hadn’t been sick she would never have run into the fucker. Not the first time, not the second, nor the third.

“You couldn’t have known there would be a demon,” Steph quipped with a sigh, tired of this downward spiral already. Though at least Dean was talking to her and not wallowing in his perceived shame all alone. That was a big step forward she supposed.

“The guy was fishy from the start, we should have dug deeper the moment you had a bad feeling about him,” he had to admit she had superb hunter’s intuition, her first thought in the store was that he was a demon. The hunter was kicking himself mentally for not following through even if it did seem at the time that he was just a guy trying to get her number.

“First off, you were sick as a dog, I’m not blaming you for not realizing he was a real threat. After calming down I honestly thought I was just spooked too. Second, you can’t protect me from everything. That’s why we train, so I can handle myself if anything happens. I didn’t die, I call that win,” she ranted on, wondering for a second if Dean had been listening to her at all in the ensuing silence.

“I shouldn’t have gotten carried away when you are clearly hurt,” he declared in a softer tone finally as if he just HAD to find a way to spin this against himself. Fucking guilt complex.

“Then I’ll take charge,” Steph said confidently, pushing Dean back down on his back with ease, since he wasn’t really putting up any resistance. Then she straddled him, which caught him in wide-eyed surprise. Steph had never initiated anything sexual between them before, too unsure of herself and her place in this relationship until now. And of course Dean had been really ill which so far prompted her to be a caretaker rather than a partner, even if he wasn’t shy showing his attraction all this time. Whether he would have been physically able to follow through until now was another question, and they both probably had very different opinions on that.

She leaned down to press a kiss against his lips, but of course the forward motion upset her the muscles in her torso all over again, making her pause midway as she caught her breath. Dean noticed of course, too much on high alert to get immersed in his wants and needs now.

“Maybe we should resume this another time,” he gently suggested, moving to sit back up.

“Shut the fuck up, Dean Winchester,” the girl pushed him back down by the shoulders, kissing him hard. In only a fraction of a second he was responding, mouth moving in sync with hers, his hands finding their way back to her hips, paying very close attention at keeping them there. A few moments later Steph reemerged with a playful smirk on her lips. “You don’t always get to call the shots.”

Dean found the whole thing absolutely hot and mesmerizing. Steph always had the ability to surprise him and she didn’t disappoint this time either, flipping their roles around like this. Carefully he began peeling her shirt off of her, trying not to look at the angry purple bruise that would surely ruin his mood again.

Just as he got it safely over her head with her help, the Bunker door opened with a loud bang, someone trotting down with purposeful steps on the stairs. It was way too early for Sam to be back yet, it had only been about an hour since he left.

“Dean? Sam?” came Cas’s inquisitive voice through the war room to their spot, giving Steph just enough time to wincingly straighten back up and yank the just discarded shirt in front of her bare chest – because screw bras while at home – when the angel walked into the library, having a clean line of sight on her and Dean. “Hello… Stephanie?”

Castiel’s eyes went wide for a second and he quickly turned around as he realized her state of undress, no doubt feeling highly uncomfortable and embarrassed. She quickly put the shirt back on, getting off of Dean, who found this moment perfect to choke on his own breath and begin coughing.

“I am confused as to how the sight of breasts is supposed to help with an upper respiratory infection,” the angel mused out loud, wondering if it was safe to turn back around yet.

“Shut it, Cas,” Dean huffed between shallow breaths as Steph helped him sit up, clearly peeved that someone other than him got to see more skin on his girl than he would have liked.

“They are not related,” she supplied amusedly, trying not to laugh at either of their reactions to the situation. “I’m decent again by the way.”

The man in the trench coat turned to face them again, though he clearly had trouble looking Steph in the eye.

“I am glad things seem to be going well between you two,” he offered sincerely, his eyes twinkling with something that could be interpreted as ‘I told you so’.

“So what’s up, Cas? Did you find your grace?” Steph diverted the topic, trying very hard not to dwell on the fact that seemingly everyone had known of Dean’s attraction to her for a long a time, except her.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I did,” the angel revealed, though his reaction was far from the exuberant joy this event should have warranted, which suggested that something must have happened.

“Where’s Metatron?” Dean piped in, his face in a hard mask, his thoughts taking the same drift.

“He escaped with the demon tablet,” Cas admitted shamefully.

“Excuse me. What?” the older Winchester inquired menacingly, already imagining what the rogue Scribe of God could do with that thing.

“Okay, calm down you two, no need to get into a shouting match,” Steph intervened, getting up from the couch to act as a physically barrier between them.

“You are hurt again,” Cas observed her movements carefully, shooting an accusatory glance to Dean around her.

“Don’t look at him like that, he had nothing to do with it,” she snapped her fingers in front of him to get his attention back. “I had an unfortunate run in with a demon when we went out three days ago.”

“Three days… Wait a minute. Before or after I called you back?” the angel looked at her now as if she was a small child to be scolded.

“Before…” Steph confessed in a small voice.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Cas asked exasperatedly.

“Say what exactly? Tell you to come back and heal all of us? Without your grace?” she burst out, hoping he would see the ridiculousness of a request like that.

“That is not a problem anymore,” he walked up to her instead, placing two fingers on her forehead and healing her completely, before going over and doing the same for Dean, whose skin tone became immediately a healthy light pink instead of the different shades of pale he had been sporting for days.

“Oh, lookie! Air! I’ve almost forgot what a joy you are to have,” he exclaimed happily, taking a few deep lungfuls and relishing in the fact that it didn’t send him right into a coughing fit, the problem of Metatron seemingly forgotten for now.

“Where’s Sam?” the angel asked, noticing the other hunter’s profound absence.

“At the grocery store,” Steph replied, Dean too immersed in his renewed health to engage in conversation. “I’ll call him,” she offered, dialing already, when she saw Cas’s furrowed brows that suggested he had elsewhere to be, though it would still take at least twenty minutes for him to get back even if he left right at this second.

And Sam wasn’t even picking up.

In the end it was another three hours before the younger Winchester made an appearance.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dean bellowed instantly, his worry resurfacing as aggression as he stomped his way to the garage upon hearing the roar of Baby’s engine.

“Uhm, supply run, I thought Steph would have told you,” Sam replied with raised brows at the unprovoked verbal attacked, sniffling a little as he went to the trunk of the car to unload.

“For four freaking hours?” the older brother questioned, because unless he went like all the way to the Walmart Supercenter an hour away, there was absolutely no reason for grocery shopping to take this long.

“I might have run into someone at the store…” he tentatively admitted, casting uneasy glances at his brother, anticipating instant teasing.

“Who?” Dean asked exasperatedly, not really having the patience for twenty questions at the moment.

“Sophie… I mean Dr. Turner,” the younger Winchester revealed, the tips of his ears turning just slightly red from the embarrassment at this interrogation.

Dean’s face went from accusatory to perplexed then quickly to surprised before settling on impressed as he put two and two together. Way to score, Sammy!

“You could have sent a text,” Dean suggested nonchalantly as if that was the most natural thing in the world, not wanting to add to his guilt and ruining the afterglow by revealing that Steph had been going out of her mind with worry, blaming herself, stating that she should never have let Sam go, that he had been still too sick and imagining the worst possible scenarios that could have happened causing his delay, like collapsing in the store or running into other demons, getting killed or captured because he was unable to fight them off alone in his condition.

“Seriously? What am I? 15? Having to check in with my big brother before I do anything?” he burst out indignantly, refusing to be treated like a kid.

“The joke’s on you. You missed Cas and his magic fingers,” the older hunter laughed out. The angel even waited an hour but then had to excuse himself because of the urgent matters he had to attend to.

“Ew,” Sam crinkled his nose and brows, not wanting to know what Dean was insinuating but it sounded like bad porn.

“Healing, Sam. Healing. He got his grace back,” Dean explained, deadpan expression on his face after the failed joke.

“Oh,” the younger Winchester exhaled, now realizing that Dean in fact looked like the model of health, contemplating the situation before shrugging. “Well, it was still worth it.”

“Sure, it was,” Dean just laughed, trotting back towards the inside of the Bunker to deliver the good news to Steph.

In another three days Sam was also back to a 100%, diligently swallowing his pills as prescribed.

And then Charlie called. She had found the Book of the Damned.

THE END

March 23, 2017

This was awesome.

Sorry to see it end, but as they say.. all good things... ?

Hopefully you have more in the works ?

March 24, 2017

On 2017. 03. 23. at 3:15 AM, Wow Really? said:

This was awesome.

Sorry to see it end, but as they say.. all good things... ?

Hopefully you have more in the works ?

I have another SPN sickfic, still unfinished, called Seriously, Sammy... it's S08, Trials era sick!Sam.

March 24, 2017

7 hours ago, lilysneeze said:

I have another SPN sickfic, still unfinished, called Seriously, Sammy... it's S08, Trials era sick!Sam.

Gotta admit, I'm all about Dean lol.

Thanks so much, though! ❤️

Not your fault (SPN, OC)

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