Grape Juice (Secret Santa: for *lovely_lily*) - (3 Parts)

[27jj]

Its the 19th where I am, so I'm posting now!!

***

Title: Grape Juice

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby

Word Count: 3,180 (all three parts)

Warnings/Spoilers: Through Season 2, Episode 2 (Everybody Loves a Clown).

Disclaimer: I don't own or make money from Supernatural. All mistakes, however, are 100% mine.

A/N: Prompt will be at the end, last post.

A/N 2: I'm posting this in three parts over the course of today.

A/N 3: I'm not sure what it is with me and medicine flavors lately…enjoy!!

***

Part One

***

The sun is hot on his back as Sam walks out through the salvage yard, toward the sound of Dean working on the Impala. Dean is quiet as he approaches, and Sam paces a little, his gray v-neck sticking uncomfortably to his skin with sweat.

He settles against a Mustang, fingers the rusty paint, looking anywhere but at Dean. Thinks about going back inside.

Dean finally looks up at him from where he’s working, his expression clear. Just tell me what you came out here to say, and then leave me alone.

So Sam tells him, and it’s not easy to say everything out loud, to tell Dean about the guilt that’s been eating away at him. He knows everything he’s done recently, everything he’s said about Dad, is too little, too late. And when he leaves Dean to finish up on the Impala, he knows he’s still left a lot unsaid, things that will probably never be said, but he can’t bring himself to turn around, to go back and face Dean.

He’s careful to wipe the tears from his eyes before he goes back inside, and he can feel the small cuts that run across his face, not yet fully healed. As he reaches for the doorknob, there’s a crash in the distance, the sound of glass breaking, followed by a repeated pounding noise. He flinches, turns in the direction of where he just came, and can barely see Dean through the cars, smashing the Impala over and over again with a crowbar, and for a few seconds, he can’t breathe.

***

The weather changes rapidly after that, and the next thing Sam knows, the skies have grown dark, clouds moving in to hide the sun. Dean doesn’t come in until well after the rain has started to fall, soaking wet and exhausted, just as the sun is sinking behind the horizon.

He doesn’t talk to Bobby, doesn’t even look at Sam. Just heads upstairs to dry off while Sam stays in the kitchen.

When Dean falls asleep sometime later, Sam slips out the door and makes his way out to the Impala in the rain. He spends too long out there, leaning on his palms against the car. He knows that the next few days around Dean, he’ll pretend not to know about the massive dent in the trunk of the Impala, but when he sees it he feels like he’s got a matching dent somewhere in his chest, where it feels as though someone has taken a crowbar and beaten him over and over.

It’s cold outside, and so dark he can hardly see past a few feet. The rain is coming down hard, drenching him within minutes, leaving him shivering, leaves his nose cold and running.

Bobby is sitting in the kitchen when he comes back inside, and he offers Sam a hot cup of coffee without a word. Sam accepts it gratefully, the steaming liquid warming him. His clothes and hair are dripping wet, and Bobby tells him he go change into something dry.

Just as he’s about to take Bobby’s suggestion, Dean comes and leans against the door frame, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Why are you all wet?” He asks tiredly, nodding at Sam, who shrugs in return. Dean’s eyes flash to the window. He knows, and Sam knows he knows, that Sam was outside. It’s not exactly rocket science.

Bobby gets up and busies himself getting Dean a cup of coffee. Dean doesn’t join them at the table, instead stays where he is in the doorway, quiet, but Sam senses he’s angry about something. Eventually, he leaves, and then Bobby goes up to bed, and Sam is left alone sitting at the kitchen table.

None of them get much sleep that night.

***

Dean spends most of the next day outside, working on the Impala.

He’s out there first thing in the morning, as soon as there’s a break in the rain. Sam knows it’s just as much of a reason to not be around him as it is to fix the dent he’d smashed in the trunk, and it stings a little. Dean’s never been the caring and sharing type of guy when it comes to his feelings, but he’s never been this closed off, this distant before, and it’s a little worrying.

Sam’s stomach rumbles when he wakes up, and he reluctantly climbs out of bed. He’d only gotten two hours of sleep, and that was between nightmares of clowns that turned into his father, laughing at him maniacally before they fell to the floor, lifeless.

He rummages through his duffle until he finds a black hoodie, a little wrinkled but clean, and puts it on before going downstairs. Dean is outside, Bobby is MIA, and the house is quiet, empty.

Its suddenly freezing cold in the house. Sam pulls the hood of his sweatshirt up and pulls his hands inside the sleeves, slumping onto the couch with a shiver. He sniffles, his nose running again, and he realizes spending time out in the rain in the middle of the night might not have been his best idea.

Closing his eyes, he stretches out so that his feet are up on the coffee table and his head is resting against the cushions. He yawns, finds himself starting to doze, and his mind wanders to Dean. He can see the events of yesterday in his mind, the way Dean damaged the Impala. Can see Dean hitting it over and over and over again, until, after a moment, the Impala turns into a giant clown, which looks too much like Dad, and-

Sam jolts awake, panting. He crosses his arms across his chest, squeezing his eyes shut against the image, then tucks his head down against his shoulder with a sudden sneeze.

“Hihh-ishchoo!”

It catches him off guard, and another sneeze soon follows.

“Kkptch-uh!” He catches it in his sleeve. His head is pounding, and he tries to hold in another sneeze when he hears Dean come through the front door.

“Sam?”

Sam grunts, trying not to breathe through his nose, but Dean’s right there in front of him, and Sam feels the tingling overwhelming his sinuses, threatening to betray him.

Its a few seconds before Sam realizes that Dean is still standing there, an odd look on his face, but he hasn’t said anything yet. He chances a rub at his nose, but Dean takes no notice, only shrugs when Sam looks at him expectantly.

“Never mind.” And then Dean’s gone again, outside or upstairs, Sam’s not sure which. He’s just gone.

Sam lets out a relieved sigh, but the sneeze is long gone, leaving his nose irritated and congested. If Dean finds out he’s getting sick, he’ll never hear the end of it.

[ooo]

He flinches, turns in the direction of where he just came, and can barely see Dean through the cars, smashing the Impala over and over again with a crowbar, and for a few seconds, he can’t breathe.

Ouchy.

...then tucks his head down against his shoulder with a sudden sneeze.

Mmm, yum!

So excited for more of this! Wheee!

[MusicaDiabolos]

ANGST. Oh my God, you're my favourite person right now! Angsty and sneezy Sam is so, so wonderful

[swann_ee_song]

Ooooh. It's just the right combo of angst and sneezy!Sam I think. Also, your tired!Sam is my favourite flavour recently.

... will be stalking this for more like no tomorrow!

[shygreeneyes]

Oh, the early-season 2 ANGST! It is so sweet.

[ID2006]

lovely lovely... oh I wish I could remember that car smashing episode better.

[obsessed]

I'm in love. <3

[27jj]

He flinches, turns in the direction of where he just came, and can barely see Dean through the cars, smashing the Impala over and over again with a crowbar, and for a few seconds, he can’t breathe.

Ouchy.

...then tucks his head down against his shoulder with a sudden sneeze.

Mmm, yum!

So excited for more of this! Wheee!

Thanks for reading!!

ANGST. Oh my God, you're my favourite person right now! Angsty and sneezy Sam is so, so wonderful

YOU are my favorite person!! I'm really glad you like the angst! Thanks for reading:)

Ooooh. It's just the right combo of angst and sneezy!Sam I think. Also, your tired!Sam is my favourite flavour recently.

... will be stalking this for more like no tomorrow!

Thanks! I'm glad the angst and tired!Sam works for you:)

Oh, the early-season 2 ANGST! It is so sweet.

Ahh, I know, those early seasons were so great for that! Thanks for reading:)

lovely lovely... oh I wish I could remember that car smashing episode better.

Thanks:) I remember it because it made me so sad:( (And because I re-watched it for this fic...)

I'm in love. <3

Thanks for reading!!

[27jj]

***

Part Two

***

The cough starts sometime later in the evening, when Sam’s in Bobby’s library reading. It’s not like he has anything else to do, and with Dean avoiding him like the plague, he figures he may as well do something enjoyable.

At first he thinks it’s from all the dust. As soon as he pulls a book down from a shelf even taller than he is, he’s coughing and sneezing and coughing even more, enveloped in a cloud of dust. His eyes are gritty, his nose constantly itching, and his throat is starting to burn. But an hour later, when all the dust has settled, he’s still coughing every few minutes.

He’s coughing roughly into a fist when he hears something in the doorway behind him. He jumps up from his chair and spins around to find Bobby standing there, suspicion on his face.

“You okay, boy? That cough doesn’t sound good.”

“Wh-what? Yeah, I…hehhh…I’m f-fine-ehhh…why?” As soon as he speaks, his nose has other ideas. He tries to change the subject. “Where’s Dean?”

“Kid, I’ve known you since you were a little runt. Don’t try to pull one over on me.” Bobby eyes him, moves closer, and it takes every ounce of strength Sam has not to sneeze. He starts to say something, tries to deny that he’s anything but fine, but the sneeze wins.

“Ehhh…ehh-hetchsh!”

Bobby moves toward him as the sneeze gives way to another fit of coughing and more sneezes.

“Ktshch-uh! HETCHshoo. Hihh-hitchshoo! Ugh.”

He feels Bobby’s hand on his shoulder as he scrubs at his nose with a hoodied sleeve, and is grateful when Bobby doesn’t say anything further.

“Dond’t…dond’t tell Deand, okay?”

Bobby’s expression is soft, understanding.

“Is there anything I can get ya?”

Sam thinks for a minute. “Grape juice?”

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

When Sam wanders downstairs in the morning after another sleepless night, he’s surprised to find not only Bobby in the kitchen, making breakfast, but Dean as well. He hasn’t seen much of his brother these past few days.

Dean looks about as tired as he feels, dark circles under his eyes, and he hardly looks up from his food when Sam pulls out a chair.

The tickle that had been persistent in his sinuses the day before makes a return as soon as Sam sits at the table across from Dean, and he groans inwardly at the poor timing. He sniffs, but that only makes things worse and he tries to rub his nose as discreetly as he can.

He can feel Bobby’s eyes boring into him when he sets a plate of food down on the table in front of him.

“Thangks,” he says to Bobby, wincing immediately at the congestion in his voice before clearing his throat as quietly as he can.

Before he can do or say anything else, a sneeze catches him off guard.

“Hehhahhchshuh!”

Dean looks up sharply but doesn’t say anything. Sam sniffles, another sneeze building.

“Hehh….ih’hehhh….” Dean studies him, and Sam feels himself flushing under the intense stare.

“Wh-what?”

“Nothing,” Dean answers, looking back down at his food.

“Kktchsh-uh!” Sam cups his hands to his face, and his hair flops over his forehead as his head ducks down with the sneeze. His nose twitches, his nostrils flare, and he takes in an involuntary gasp. “Ehhh! Hetchshoo!”

“Gesundheit,” Bobby’s voice comes gruffly from behind him. He mumbles a ‘thank you’ and picks up his napkin, blowing his nose quickly without looking at Dean. His nose is already sore, and probably bright red, and he’s becoming more and more congested by the minute.

“Are you…sick or something?” Dean looks at him, and Sam sees something that might be concern, but it quickly changes to annoyance. “Because that would really suck right now.”

“No, Dean,” Sam snaps. “I’m not si-ihhh...sick. Just some dust in here or something.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“We can’t hunt if you’re sick,” Dean states matter-of-factly.

“We aren’t on a hunt.” Sam coughs lightly into his sleeve.

“Yeah, well, I found us a hunt.”

“Dean, I get that you’re still upset, but we can’t just go running off on another-”

“You don’t get anything, Sam,” Dean snarls, cutting him off.

“Dean-”

“I’m going outside,” Dean says heatedly before storming out.

“I don’t care,” Sam mumbles to his back, but it’s a lie. He looks apologetically to Bobby, then gets up and leaves the kitchen.

He feels cold again, and he’s shivering a little. He grabs a book from the library and takes it out to the couch, settling down but not really reading. The lines blur on the page before his eyes, and his head feels full and heavy. He thinks about heading back into the kitchen, maybe getting some coffee, but before he can he falls asleep.

***

Dean comes inside noisily several hours later, lets the door slam behind him, but he stops short when he sees that Sam is asleep on the couch.

His brother looks miserable. Red nose, face flushed, forehead creased, and Dean can tell by both the way Sam is snoring congestedly and the by the fact that Sam’s got one of his gigantic hoodies on, hood pulled up over his floppy hair, that Sam is sick.

It all hits him now. Sam had been getting sick since yesterday. Dean just hadn’t realized, too caught up in his own shit to even notice that Sam was unwell. But Sam had lied to him earlier, and Dean had only made things worse.

He’s torn, wanting to stay and do something, anything to take care of his brother, but not sure if it would be welcome. He’s about to leave, to go upstairs the spare room, pretend to go to sleep, when he spots something on the table that makes him flinch.

When Sam was six, he went through a grape phase. Grape juice. Grape candy. Grape-scented markers. Eventually, it changed so that Sam had only demanded grape-flavored anything when he was sick, and hated it otherwise.

So the biggest thing that clues Dean in to the fact that Sam is sick is the half-drunken glass of dark purple liquid sitting on the coffee table. Dean didn’t even know that Bobby had grape juice, let alone that Sam would want any. Over fifteen years later, and Sam is going through that phase again. Apparently.

Dean makes a decision as he tries to push away the feeling of guilt that’s creeping up on him. He’s careful to be quiet as he goes upstairs and searches through the hall closet until he finds an extra blanket. Downstairs, Sam hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch. Dean quietly pads over and unfolds the blanket, laying it over his brother’s sleeping form. Sam snuffles and turns onto his side, pressing his head deeper into the pillow.

Dean waits for a second, until Sam’s light, congested snores start up again, before he places a hand lightly on Sam’s forehead. He’s a little warm, but probably not warm enough to break out the thermometer. Sam is shivering a little though, so Dean takes the quilt that’s draped over the back of the couch and tucks that around Sam too.

He toes off his boots and shrugs out of his flannel over-shirt shirt, lowers himself to the ground beside the couch, and sits in the dark, listening to Sam’s snores.

[obsessed]

Awww, the angst is too lovely.

I love the Grape Juice you put into there, and the guilt.

And I lovelovelove everything else too. <3

[estrelleta]

Can't tell you how much I love this... <3 The perfect balance of angst and cute. Can't wait for more!

E x

[ID2006]

This is Fantabulous. I love the grape thing. And the Dean sitting by Sam. And the everything else about this. Your descriptions are so perfect.

[shygreeneyes]

The denial! The surrender! The adorableness!

[27jj]

Awww, the angst is too lovely.

I love the Grape Juice you put into there, and the guilt.

And I lovelovelove everything else too. <3

THANK YOU!! I am so very happy that you liked it:) Thanks for leaving awesome feedback!

Can't tell you how much I love this... <3 The perfect balance of angst and cute. Can't wait for more!

E x

Yay! I'm thrilled you enjoyed it! Thanks:)

This is Fantabulous. I love the grape thing. And the Dean sitting by Sam. And the everything else about this. Your descriptions are so perfect.

Thank you so much for reading!!!!

The denial! The surrender! The adorableness!

Thanks for reading:) Glad you're enjoying!

[27jj]

Here is the final part!

***

Part Three

***

The next morning, Dean wakes up on the floor, disoriented and sore. His brother is still asleep on the couch, but he’s pushed all the blankets down toward his feet.

Dean places a hand on Sam’s forehead again and brushes the hair from his face, checking for fever. Sam snuffles and leans into the touch, his nose scrunching up slightly. He’s still a little warm to the touch, but it’s nothing serious. Sam always got a small fever even when he was just sick with a cold. He hopes that Bobby has a thermometer, just in case.

Sam sniffles again and shifts a little in his sleep, and Dean pulls one of the blankets back up over his shoulders.

He borrows one of Bobby’s cars and drives into town for a few things from the drugstore. Sam’s snoring away when he gets back, so he goes upstairs to take a shower. When he heads back downstairs, he finds Sam at the kitchen table, head propped on folded arms, asleep.

Bobby’s at the stove, pouring hot water from a kettle into a mug. When Bobby places the mug in front of Sam, he jerks awake with a start, disoriented, and sneezes forcefully.

“Wha’? AhhHETCHSH!”

He catches it in a tissue that he’d been clutching in his right hand, and several more crumpled tissues surround him on the table.

“Bless-”

Sam holds a hand up, his breath hitching. He holds the tissue ready, but after a few seconds he groans and lowers his hand.

Dean shakes his head, a small smile on his face, and turns to Bobby. Beside him, Sam’s breathing becomes irregular again.

“Ihhh… dabbit…”

“Bobby, do you have a thermometer? Sam’s kind of warm, and I just want to be sure.”

“Hehh…I’m n-not warm…”

“Yeah, I got one around here somewhere. I’ll go check.”

“I don’t h-have a fever!” Sam protests, his voice cracking on the last word, and Bobby rolls his eyes before leaving the room.

“Shut up and drink your tea. Wait, tea? Why are you drinking tea? Sore throat?”

“No, uh, Bobby was out of c-coffee.”

Sam hides a cough behind his hand and picks the mug up, holding it between his hands but not drinking. He immediately sets it back down to press his knuckles against his nose.

Dean eyes the coffee pot, which is full of coffee, but decides not to push the matter. He turns back to Sam to see him scrubbing furiously at his nose, a vacant expression on his face. After another half of a minute, Sam finally gasps, face scrunching up before he sneezes helplessly into the crook of his arm.

“HETCHshoo! Hehh-tchshuh. Ehh-KTCHSH-uh!”

“Bless you. I got you some stuff,” Dean tells him, passing him a tissue before he retrieves the plastic sack he’d brought home earlier that morning. He pulls out a bottle of grape-flavored cough syrup, a box of tissues, and a few bottles of grape juice.

“And,” Dean continues, “if you’re good, I got popsicles.”

Sam laughs, which turns into a sneeze.

“Hahh-chuh! Ugh. This s-uhh-ktchshch! Sucks.” He looks over pathetically at Dean with red, watery eyes. “Are they grape popsicles?”

***

When Bobby comes back with the thermometer, Dean has poured them each a glass of grape juice and opened another box of tissues, which Sam is going through at a record speed.

“Etchshoo! Hetchh! Uhh…”

Bobby hands the thermometer to Dean.

“Okay, Sam, open up.”

“Atshch-uh!”

“Okay, maybe stop sneezing first.”

“I cand’t,” Sam says miserably before blowing his nose loudly. Dean sighs and shoves the thermometer in his mouth.

“I dond’t hab a feber,” Sam mumbles around it. But when Dean pulls it out, he frowns.

“One-oh-one exactly, Sammy. You know what that means. Bed.”

“Heshchshoo! I dond’t wandt to.”

Dean leads him upstairs anyway, medicates him with cough syrup, decongestants, and Tylenol before pulling back the sheets.

“Okay, Sammy. Get some sleep. You’ll feel better if you do.” He’s grabbing the tissue box when Sam clears his throat.

“I…I dond’t wandt to sleep.”

Dean pauses, and there’s a stretch of silence before he speaks again.

“Nightmares?” Dean asks all too knowingly, and Sam nods.

“About what?”

“Clowns,” Sam answers, and Dean almost laughs before he continues. “And Dad.”

“I know. Me too.”

Dean would give anything to not let Sam have more nightmares, but Sam’s practically falling asleep standing up, so he guides his brother into the bed.

“It’ll be okay, Sammy. It’ll be okay.”

***

The next few days Dean spends trying to make Sam more comfortable. He brings him tissues and medicine and juice and makes him stay in bed, and eventually his cough goes away and the congestion lets up. Sam looks up another hunt on his laptop and they start packing their things up.

Two mornings later they’re headed toward Red Lodge, Montana where a couple of severed heads and a pile of dead cows await them, AC/DC blasting from the speakers of the newly repaired Impala.

***

FIN

***

Prompt: 1: Supernatural: Well I enjoy my angst If you remember right after the beginning of season 2 in the episode Everyone loves a clown where Sam and Dean have that confrontation about John's death, the one where Deans starts beating the impala. (Sorry if that spoiled things for you..) I always imagined they spent a couple more days at Bobby's after that and things were kind of tense between them. With Dean being kinda pissed at Sam and Sam just wanting things to be back to normal between them. Then Sammy gets sick and at first Dean doesn't care but then Sam gets worse and he feels all guilty, and then much caretaking ensues.

[ID2006]

As with all Supernatural stories, I'm sad when they've ended, but I do love having a completed story filled with sneezing, coughing, and caretaking goodness.

[obsessed]

Oooh, loved this one.

[iluvsneezes]

Aww, this story is unbelievably adorable! Sammy's desperately trying not to sneeze, and Dean realizing he's truly sick and covering him up with a blanket.

You always write such beautiful stories, hon!

[swann_ee_song]

Just, wow. I have no words..........

I liked every bit of it. and I haven't been much for angst these days, but somehow the season 2 angst is just perfect.

[BlueRandom]

I just got to read this all in one go! Like Christmas ...

Bobby’s at the stove, pouring hot water from a kettle into a mug. When Bobby places the mug in front of Sam, he jerks awake with a start, disoriented, and sneezes forcefully.

“Wha’? AhhHETCHSH!”

That part was so cute!

And I love the build-ups, and Bobby in the background, and the whole grape-theme. Was -making.

[ooo]

EEE, so much awesome hot fic! I loved the little grape theme you had running through this. And I can't even tell you how much I adore Sam falling asleep at the table with a tissue in his hand. And of course all the deliciously lovely sneezing and more sneezing and trying to talk through it and thermometer-ing. Gahhh.

[scent]

Aww, this story is unbelievably adorable! Sammy's desperately trying not to sneeze, and Dean realizing he's truly sick and covering him up with a blanket.

You always write such beautiful stories, hon!

I totally agree! They're so cute! :-) Hope to see more in the future. Perferably with Sam/Jared having allergies.... love those!

[MusicaDiabolos]

Yay, you finished it! Ah, the memories...our boys in the first two seasons were almost angstless by comparison. But not quite. Love Sam's desperation, and Bobby and Dean taking care of him!

[Lady Blessington]

That was awesome. I feel like you used a really light touch with the angst and the recapping and chose just the right things to focus on, to make me want to catch every detail. Poor Sammeh. The clown/Dad nightmares, the grape-flavour regressing... Dean's moodiness at first... Bobby's concern... this was great. And HOT. This was the smokin'est part for me:

When Bobby places the mug in front of Sam, he jerks awake with a start, disoriented, and sneezes forcefully.

“Wha’? AhhHETCHSH!”

He catches it in a tissue that he’d been clutching in his right hand

I think you know Sam-angst and even sick Sam aren't generally my thing. I was surprised how much this captivated me. Thanks for a great read.

[scarlett_ohara2]

He’s careful to wipe the tears from his eyes before he goes back inside, and he can feel the small cuts that run across his face, not yet fully healed. As he reaches for the doorknob, there’s a crash in the distance, the sound of glass breaking, followed by a repeated pounding noise. He flinches, turns in the direction of where he just came, and can barely see Dean through the cars, smashing the Impala over and over again with a crowbar, and for a few seconds, he can’t breathe.

Incoherency? Check.

Love? Check.

This was incredible- the absolute perfect tag to "Everybody Loves a Clown." Goshhhhhh I can't even come up with words to tell you how much I loved this.

P.S. Isn't writing angst FUN??