Sore Throat? That’s An Understatement (SPN, Sam)

[Wolfwings22]

This is a fairly short one-shot that I have been working on. There’s not too much sneezing in this one, but I hope that it’s still enjoyable to read. I just can’t seem to get enough of sick Sam these days and decided to write something more with some free time that I had. I hope that you guys enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prompt- Sam has a sore throat. Like, excruciating, terrible, king-of-all-sore-throats sore throat. Dean thinks he's being wimpy until he finally shines a light down the thing and realizes Sam is not kidding.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    Sam laid in the motel and on the bed with his head in his hands. He tried to sigh until he felt the agony spreading through his throat. He had tried not to speak all day, but he could tell that Dean was starting to become frustrated with him. After all, he had asked Sam so many questions that day and Sam would nod and shake his head adamantly. Dean continued asking him what was wrong, but Sam refused to answer. Eventually, Sam was aware that Dean would just explode and really be pissed at Sam, but Sam didn't care. He just didn't feel good.

 

    He had started feeling a little run down about two days ago. He had slight body cramps and a tickle in his sinuses, but he hadn't thought anything of it. They powered through illnesses all the time. They never spoke about it and just continued whatever hunt they were on. If they had a break, maybe they rested, but it wasn't likely. That was why Sam was relieved when they actually settled down for the night.

 

    "Hungry, Sam," Dean called from the opposite bed. He was laying on his back with a menu lifted above his head as he read it. "They got some really good food here, I think. It may be deadly, but what the hell?"

 

    Sam looked down at his stomach. He hadn't eaten in almost two days, but he really wasn't hungry. He had nibbled on the corner of a sandwich the day before, but he didn't trust his stomach that whatever else he put in there that wouldn't cause a revolt. It wasn't that kind of illness yet, but he didn't want to jinx it. He settled for shaking his head when Dean looked at him.

 

    Dean sighed. "You gotta eat something. Hell, I have to eat something!"

 

    "Then go ahead," Sam responded. He instantly regretted it when he felt like someone had just pulled out part of his throat. He instantly reached his hand around and grasped at it with tears almost streaming down his face. He quickly swallowed back his pain as he tried to meet Dean's eyes.

 

    Dean tilted his head in surprise. "What the hell are you doing," he asked as he watched Sam paw at his throat.

 

    Sam instantly lowered his hand from his throat. "Sorry. Just sorry," Sam stammered before he realized that he was speaking again. The throbbing feeling had returned to his throat and to his chest. He sagged back against the bed.

 

    "Sorry? That's not what I need to hear. Sam, what's wrong," Dean repeated with more authority of his voice like a father instead of a brother.

 

    Sam sniffled while he opened his mouth. Before he could even think about speaking to his brother, his nose betrayed him. It gave a tiny twitch and Sam suddenly lifted his elbow to his face and pushed his head into it since he knew that this was going to be dangerously messy.

 

    "Huh'TcshSHshSH! Huh'TcshsHshSH! Huh'TcHSsHSHS! Ugh. Ow!"

 

    Sam had never felt this much searing pain in his throat before, even when he had been exposed to teargas or had strep throat when he was a teenager. He lifted one hand and rubbed the outside his tender lymph nodes on the sides of his neck as if that was going to do any good for the pain. He squeezed his eye shut as he felt tears stream down his face. However, he couldn't lower his elbow since he knew that he was just a mess and he didn't want Dean to see that.

 

    Dean blinked his eyes in surprise when he noticed what was going on. He rushed around until he found a box of mostly used tissues. He threw it aside since he wasn't sure where they had been. He instantly went over and kneeled by his duffle. He looked around and let out a breath of relief when he produced a red and blue bandana. It had a splotch of blood in the corner from an earlier hunt, but it was better than the tissues that looked like they were already used in the tiny paper box.

 

    "Here," Dean offered as he handed it to his brother. "Try this. I promise I won't look."

 

    Sam waited until Dean turned completely around before he allowed himself to remove his elbow from his nose. There was a damp spot there, but he hoped that Dean wouldn't notice. He grabbed the bandana and blew his nose heavily. Once he had finished, he gave his nose a few more swipes while he struggled to clear his throat, despite the pain that it brought him. He squeezed his eyes shut until Dean made his way over and sat down beside him on the bed.

 

    "Sammy," Dean began as he looked at his brother. "What is going on? You haven't been yourself in a few days. Don't think I didn't notice."

 

    Embarrassment showed on Sam's face. He really didn't want to speak anymore due to the pain in his throat. But, that would just clue Dean in even more and he didn't want to worry him. "Just feeling a little run down," he replied, pleased with himself that it wasn't a total lie.

 

    Dean raised an eyebrow as he looked his brother up and down. After a couple moments, Dean moved slightly closer to Sam. "Okay, time to be honest. What's going on or I'm going to hold you hostage in this room until you tell me. I guarantee that you'll crack before I do. Now, spill," Dean told him firmly.

 

    Sam thought about what semi truth that he could tell his brother next. He settled on telling him almost most of the truth out of fear of Dean weaseling it out of him in another way. Sam was just too tired for that. "My throat hurts a little," Sam replied softly.

 

    Dean knew that it had to be hurting a whole heck of a lot because Sam didn't complain about anything. He knew that he had to get to the bottom of this and quickly. "Can I at least look in your throat, "Dean requested, heart skipping a beat in his chest.

 

    Sam nodded slowly. "Okay," he agreed begrudgingly.

 

    Dean walked over to his duffle and took out a flashlight. "You know, I'm pretty sure that you're just being a big baby about this. How bad can a throat actually get?"

 

    Sam tried to halt the tears that threatened to fall down his face in frustration. He tried to stay as still as possible as Dean came back over to him. He sniffled powerfully, glancing up at Dean and drawing back just as swiftly. "W-Wait," he stammered with his nostrils flaring.

 

    "Again, Sammy," Dean asked warmly as he drew back, flashlight twirled in his fingertips. "Here, you got some space."

 

    Sam hated his brother watching over his shoulder like that, but he couldn't make his brother look away. Dean was too concerned to give up now. Sam just longed for it to be over with quickly. "Huh'TcsHsHSHSH! Huh'TcshHshSHSH! Huh'TcshHshsHSSH!"

 

    "Bless you. That still hurt," Dean inquired as he leaned forward.

 

    Sam didn't answer as he grabbed the bandana and blew his nose weakly, ears popping from the rush of air being forced from him. Once he was finished he threw the bandana aside and coughed painfully into a loose and raised fist. He then rubbed at his throat again with a pained expression etched on his face.

 

    Dean battered his hand away and grabbed the flashlight and started to shine it against his hand to make sure it was bright enough before looking over to Sam. "Okay, come here and open your mouth," Dean instructed.

 

    Sam reluctantly did as Dean told him. He opened his mouth wide and allowed Dean to shine the flashlight down his throat. Dean almost dropped the flashlight when he saw his brother's throat. It was redder than any red he had ever seen. It was like horrible blood in there and it just looked like charred flesh. He had never seen something so horrible looking in his life and the fact that it was causing his little brother pain was almost rage inducing.

 

    "Oh, boy, Sammy. That is horrible," exclaimed Dean as he drew back and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I know that you can't see it, but that is the worst sore throat I've ever seen. I can't even imagine how that feels! It looks like charred meat!”

 

    "Not good," answered Sam with a grimace.

 

    Dean wasn't even sure what to do for that. After all, Sam hadn't eaten in days so offering him food probably wouldn't do much good. They didn't have any medicine for a sore throat that bad, and even if they did, Dean wasn't sure if Sam would even take it. The only thing that Dean could think of was maybe something cool for Sam to drink that would coat his throat.

 

    "Hey, Sammy, how about some ice cream or something," Dean suggested.

 

    Sam blinked his eyes in surprise. Dean was great at caring for him, sure, but he was a little fearful of the look of his own throat if Dean was offering something like that that they didn't already have. "Um, okay," he replied. "That would be great."

 

    "Alright, I'll be right back," reassured Dean as he headed out, hoping that he would actually be able to help his brother. Getting him ice cream for his throat was the least that he could do.

 

    It only took about twenty minutes for Dean to arrive back. He smiled when he saw that Sam was already sleeping half hazardly on the bed. He was snoring loudly with his mouth open, head inclined at an awkward angle over the propped up pillows behind him. Dean chuckled as he set the ice cream into the tiny freezer in the corner of the room. It would be there when Sam needed it and Dean vowed that he would always take Sam's complaints serious from then on, because Sam only complained when things were really bad. Just like the charred flesh he called a throat.

 

    The End

 

[Seeker]

Poor Sammy  that sounds terrible! I'm always up for sick Sam and you always do such a good job! ❤

[sneezelover3]

This is very good!