Do Things (SPN, Sam)

[Wolfwings22]

So, I’ve been a bit on an Supernatural kick (then again, when am I not) and was up so late last night and apparently I wrote this, though I don’t remember much of it. So, I did some quick editing and thought that I would post it. It’s just a quick oneshot with a sick Sam, but I thought that you guys may enjoy it. I hope you like it!

 

 

 

 

 

Sam has a cold. He's tired and his nose hurts and his head hurts and everyone keeps expecting him to do things, but all he really wants to do is take a nap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    Sometimes hunting sucked.

 

    Sometimes your boosts got soaked and seeped into your socks. Sometimes your favorite sawed off shotgun was thrown against a tombstone and broke in half. Sometimes you fell into a ravine and it left you drenched. Sometimes you had a head cold that left your face full and skin tingling along with pain when you tried to breathe and body aches to match. Those were what sometimes happened on a hunt, but right now Sam was experiencing all of them simultaneously and it really fucking sucked.

 

    Sometimes life just sucked.

 

    That was on repeat in Sam’s mind as he drug himself forward through the boggy marsh. The chill sent extra shivers through his already freezing body, teeth gritting and nose dripping. Every couple of steps Sam would tighten his arms around his body to close in any warmth that threatened to leave him. Hypothermia on top of everything else Sam felt was not in anyway ideal.

 

    “Look alive, Sammy.”

 

    Sam’s already sullen attitude became that much more frustrated at Dean’s chipper voice. He knew that his brother was trying to keep the mood up for the both of them after a very depressing hunt that, unfortunately, wasn’t over yet. They would have to be back once they figured out what else the women could possibly be attached to besides the locket that contained a picture of her family. Destroying the locket hadn’t done anything but piss the spirit off and left Dean and Sam tired and needing to regroup to come up with a better plan. Although, that was the last thing that Sam wanted to think about it at the moment.

 

    Sam had been feeling the beginnings of this for the past couple days. It had started with a tickle in the back of his throat and a throb behind his eyes. He had been hoping that the feeling would disappear if he ignored it, but that hadn’t been the case. It was only that morning when Sam woke up that he realized that the impending feeling was overwhelming and that this wasn’t one illness he could ignore.

 

    That hadn’t stopped the case because it never did. They still had to hunt the thing. They still had to research it. They still had to put it to rest. All of that had to be done whether Sam was sick or not.

 

    When the Impala finally loomed into view, Sam was physically and mentally exhausted. His nose was raw and red, discharge flowing freely even as he tried to wipe the evidence away with the back of his sodden hand. His lungs burned with each breath, sending him on coughing attacks that lasted almost minutes each time. Sam was finished trying to hide how he felt from his brother when it was going to give him the same result each time, so he didn’t bother to contain the sudden hacking fit that overtook him and left him almost staggering.

 

    Dean glanced back over his shoulder, noticing that Sam was falling behind despite the fact that the car was fairly close. “Sammy?” He watched as Sam struggled with each step, coughing productively into his shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. We’re almost there.”

 

    Sam looked up tired, eyes red rimmed and cheeks flushed. “M’fine.”

 

    “Yeah, I’m not so sure about that.”

 

    Dean swept forward and shifted the shovel onto his left shoulder and wrapped his right arm around Sam’s shoulders. Although he was shorter than his brother, he still was able to hold his weight relatively well and still lead both of them forward. He was just as battered as Sam and yet he was in better shape than him, which sent off the alarm bells in Dean’s mind.

 

    “You have to stay awake for just a little longer until we get to the car, okay? It would be a little hard if I had to drag your passed out ass all the way there,” Dean pointed out softly.

 

    Sam blinked his eyes hazily. The breath caught in his throat and he suddenly ducked forward, almost falling as his own body shook. “Tischshshew! TrchshshShew! TichsHsSHew!”

    

    Dean held Sam through the slight fit. He was used to Sam’s sneezing pattern. It was always once.....twice.....and maybe three times. It was always rather quiet compared to what Dean expected, but he was quite used to it. He had given Sam a hard time for it when he was younger only to find out how subconscious he was about it. He had promptly stopped and now he would only chuckle softly to himself.

 

    “Alright, Sammy, let’s get you back.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

    Sam promptly fell onto the bed after dropping his broken shotgun onto the floor. His runny nose was pressed against his face with the side of his hand, leaving a smear of residue on his cheek. He didn’t see himself sitting up anytime soon so it wasn’t of much concern.

 

    “Oh no you don’t.”

 

    Sam felt hands grasp his shoulders and haul him upward into a sitting position. He blinked deliberately, struggling to chase away the need to sneeze. “Dean, I just want to sleep.”

 

    Dean clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Not until you take a shower. You’re filthy! Do you really want to crawl into bed like that?”

 

    Honestly, Sam couldn’t have cared less. He just wanted to sleep. So what if he was doing so in his dirty clothes? He was going to be the one to sleep in the bed, not Dean. Why did his brother care so much all of a sudden?

 

    “Don’t do that. I know it sucks, but it’ll be better after a shower.”

 

    Sam forced himself to his feet, already toeing off his boots and socks as he drug himself and his duffle toward the bathroom. Breathy coughs forced their way from his mouth and he didn’t even bother to cover. Dean was behind him and had been in close proximity to him for the past week, so if he hadn’t caught it by now, chances were that he was in the clear.

 

    Why Dean wanted to make him do things, Sam was unsure of it. Either way it sucked and he wanted it to be over.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

    Sam shuffled back from the bathroom with hair dripping wet and a bundle of toilet paper pressed against his twitching nostrils. His eyes were screwed up and his arms heavy. It was taking all of his strength to keep the toilet paper pressed against his nose so that he didn’t forget to cover when he actually sneezed.

 

    “You okay there, Sammy?”

 

    Sam wanted to snap at his brother to tell him to stop calling him that. Unfortunately, his enraged sinuses didn’t offer him the chance.

 

    “TricshhsShew! TirchsHShew! TirhcsHsSHew!” Sam scrubbed at his nostrils, deciding not to blow his nose. He was way too tried for that.

 

    “Bless you.”

 

    Dean waved a half used box of sandpaper like tissues in the air from his spot on the bed he had claimed as his. “Take some and blow your nose so that you can breathe tonight,” he instructed while flipping through channels with his other hand.

 

    Sam ignored his words and gestures and fell back down on the bed. He struggled to haul his legs onto the bed and pulled them up to his chest. His damp hair left a spot of moisture on the pillow, droplets of moistures traveling down his back and causing him to shudder.

 

    “Sam, your hair is wet!”

 

    Sam didn’t say anything as Dean came over with a towel that he got from goodness knows where. He propped Sam back up into a sitting position like he had done earlier and began to dry his hair with circular motions of the towel. It was soothing and almost had Sam falling asleep right then and there.

 

    Once Dean finished, he began to set Sam back down gently. He was quick to run his fingers through Sam’s hair from his forehead down his scalp. The tips were still wet, but at least Dean had a little more ease at letting his brother go to sleep with mostly dry hair.

 

    It was with Dean still beside him, watching over him, that Sam began to fall into a light slumber.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

    “Sam, it’s time to take your meds.”

 

    Sam opened his eyes and saw the time flashing from the alarm clock on his nightstand.

 

    2:19

 

    Sam let out a low groan and forced a hand over his face. His pointer finger barely grazed his nose when he felt the impulse to sneeze without much warning. He barely had enough time to direct the onslaught into his pillow. “TicshSHew! TirhcsHSSHew! TirchsSHew!”

 

    A laugh sounded, warm and charming. “Dude, it sounds like you’re saying ‘tissue’ when you sneeze. Isn’t that a little ironic?”

 

    Sam didn’t have the energy nor the will to answer. This wasn’t the first time Dean had brought it up even though it had been quite a while since he last mentioned it. He settled for rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and sniffing in hard, sending the mucus down the back of his throat.

 

    “That’s not great for you to do that, kiddo. But, I’ll choose my battles if you take this,” Dean instructed while lifting a cup filled with radioactive colored liquid almost in Sam’s face. “Come on, Sam. Just real quick and then I’ll leave you alone.”

 

    Although Sam turned his nose at the mere suggestion, he took the cup and sipped it down all the same. The taste was awful even though he could barely taste it thanks to his congestion. He didn’t dwell on it, though, and settled for flopping back down before Dean could give him anymore orders.

 

    Sam let out a tired mumble.

 

    Dean set the little plastic cup on the nightstand and looked back to his brother. “Excuse me?”

 

    “Twenty-four,” Sam reiterated with a sudden cough.

 

    Dean tilted his head in mock confusion. “And what is that supposed to tell me?”

 

    “Not a kid anymore, Dean. I can take care of myself.”

 

    Amusement shone in Dean’s eyes. He reached out and tucked Sam’s stringy hair behind his ear. “Clearly. That’s why you’re a shivering, sneezing, coughing mess that can barely keep his head up. You’re the very picture of health.”

 

    Sam didn’t feel the need to argue with his brother any further. It wasn’t going to get him anything—that was clear from Dean’s amused tone—so it was often best to leave it at that.

 

    Sam yawned and tried to fall asleep again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

    Sam awoke once more to something cool being placed on his forehead. It sent shivers radiating through his jaw to make his teeth clench. It was like his whole body had been placed in a tub of ice yet the only cool spot Sam could definitively pick out was his forehead.

 

    “Fever spiked a little. We have to get it down and I thought you’d appreciate this way better than throwing you into the shower.”

 

    Sam wrinkled his nose. “Want to sleep.”

 

    “I know, it’ll be over in a minute. Just close your eyes and give your body time to cool off.”

 

    Sam couldn’t understand why Dean just wouldn’t let him sleep. He had been asking for it since the end of the hunt and Dean was still pushing him to do more than he ever wanted to. Never before had he been so desperate for sleep and not be able to. At least at college he could pull an all-nighter and take an exam only to sleep the rest of the day. Here Dean was constantly with him, fussing over him until he was sure that Sam was taken care of.

 

    “That it. Relax.” Dean murmured softly.

 

    Although Dean’s voice wasn’t typically soothing to anyone looking in, Sam found it more than relaxing. He often craved his brother’s voice when he was anxious or lonely. It wasn’t something he would ever admit to Dean even though the thought was constantly at the forefront of his mind.

 

    Sam’s nose had started to run like a faucet yet he seemed in no hurry to tend to it. Instead he left it run while his eye lids fluttered closed only to open them wide once more.

 

    Dean noticed it and took a couple tissues from the box. He pressed them delicately under Sam’s nose to clean him up. “It’s okay, Sam. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

    

    Sam couldn’t help but smile as he finally drifted off into a long sleep.

 

The End

[Seeker]

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