Not The Demons You're Looking For - (24 Parts)

[Aprilcot]

AWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm glad it is near impossible to only torture one boy at a time!!!!!!

Of course the exclamation marks are back!!!!!!!!!!

Where else would they be?!!!

I LOVE big brother protectiveness, and I can't wait to see where this is going!!!

Please continue!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[crazy_cat_girl]

It's Dean's willing self-sacrifice that always always gets to me. Dean intending to sleep on the couch when he is so sick, just because he is ruining Sam's sleep makes my heart ache. Whenever Dean does something like that, my first thought is always of the Wee!Chesters and how many times Dean has done something similar in their past.

And exhausted Dean at the end....Poor guy. Awesome!

A lot of things in this chapter made me laugh. I love your moments in Dean's mind. I love the part where he was thinking about kissing Andy. And I really loved "Guilt Town, Population: Dean." The Nyquil Factor definitely changed the voice of this chapter and it was great!

I can't wait till the next morning.

[LOSTfreak]

GGFFFKKRRRMF!!!!.....MAHHAHA!....DAH!.... *tackle hugs you*

[aggedy_ann]

Awwww....poor boys. I love the last part. Dean wanting Sam to rest, and I'm kinda getting the vibe that Sam is scared to be alone right now. And then to have Andy be able to take to focus off of Dean when it look Sam is about to start lecturing. I love the dynamic with the three of them.

[W.I.N.]

AWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm glad it is near impossible to only torture one boy at a time!!!!!!

Of course the exclamation marks are back!!!!!!!!!!

Where else would they be?!!!

I LOVE big brother protectiveness, and I can't wait to see where this is going!!!

Please continue!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, you crack me up!

I am a big fan of Dean being all big!brother too: it's hard-wired into his programming, even when he feels like death.

It's Dean's willing self-sacrifice that always always gets to me. Dean intending to sleep on the couch when he is so sick, just because he is ruining Sam's sleep makes my heart ache. Whenever Dean does something like that, my first thought is always of the Wee!Chesters and how many times Dean has done something similar in their past.

And exhausted Dean at the end....Poor guy. Awesome!

A lot of things in this chapter made me laugh. I love your moments in Dean's mind. I love the part where he was thinking about kissing Andy. And I really loved "Guilt Town, Population: Dean." The Nyquil Factor definitely changed the voice of this chapter and it was great!

I can't wait till the next morning.

Yeah, Dean isn't exactly rational when it comes to Sam. It's the oft-cited Dean Prime Directive: protect Sam at all costs.

I'm really glad that the "voice change" came out in this chapter. Poor boy, he's sick and medicated to the gills and still feels like crap, and his thoughts are kind of going all over the place.

(And secretly "Guilt Town, Population: Dean" is my favourite sentence of the whole chapter. I was absurdly pleased with myself for coming up with it. )

GGFFFKKRRRMF!!!!.....MAHHAHA!....DAH!.... *tackle hugs you*

I will take that as a compliment! :D

Awwww....poor boys. I love the last part. Dean wanting Sam to rest, and I'm kinda getting the vibe that Sam is scared to be alone right now. And then to have Andy be able to take to focus off of Dean when it look Sam is about to start lecturing. I love the dynamic with the three of them.

Thank you! And yes, poor boys. Neither of them are dealing very well with the whole "quasi-crippling visions thing," poor bunnies. I am really enjoying the dynamic between the boys myself. Andy is turning out to be a far more interesting and fun character to write than I'd originally anticipated.

~W.I.N.

[Lady Blessington]

Can the Winchesters be my hot water bottles? ...Please?

I love Sam pouring the water into Dean, and the bitchface categorizations, and solicitous Andy, and the helpless sneeziness. And also that this story exists. Did you seriously just apologize for it being long?

[ID2006]

I love Sam wanting Dean to stay, and Dean knowing if he pusghed it further it would turn into some sappy girly moment.

[W.I.N.]

Can the Winchesters be my hot water bottles? ...Please?

There *must* be an Application For Winchester Hot Water Bottles Form out there somewhere. I just know there is.

I love Sam pouring the water into Dean, and the bitchface categorizations, and solicitous Andy, and the helpless sneeziness. And also that this story exists. Did you seriously just apologize for it being long?

Uh, I guess I sort of did apologize there... The Canadianness of it all is a bit embarrassing. I'm having so much fun writing it, though, that I can't *really* feel sorry for how long it's getting.

I love Sam wanting Dean to stay, and Dean knowing if he pushed it further it would turn into some sappy girly moment.

Yeah... Dean doesn't really cope well with open displays of emotion. Silly boy.

~W.I.N.

[obsessed]

You make everyone coo "AWWW" to both these boys. Talent.

[W.I.N.]

You make everyone coo "AWWW" to both these boys. Talent.

Thank you! Mind you, the boys do a lot of it all on their own. I only enable by giving them viruses.

~W.I.N.

[W.I.N.]

I'm kind of impressed with myself at keeping on track with this story. The lovely feedback is a huge motivator, so THANK YOU.

~W.I.N.

*****

Part 11

Over the past few years Sam had grown accustomed to not sleeping well. He'd had nightmares ever since he was a little kid, as far back as he could remember, although they'd only started getting really bad in his last year at Stanford, right before Jess... right before everything in his carefully-crafted new life had come tumbling down in a burning pile of rubble. Since then the nightmares had been pretty much a constant in his life, waking him up shaking with terror and bathed in sweat, and most of the time he avoided sleep until he was close to passing out from exhaustion. Not the healthiest way to cope, but it was the best he could do. Being kept up by Dean's coughing was almost a refreshing change, and at least it gave him something other than his own problems on which to focus. Eventually, though, exhaustion caught up with both of them, and Sam was able to snatch a few hours of sleep, untroubled by dreams.

Waking up first in the morning was nothing new to him, either. In their family, Dean was the only morning person, usually up with the sun and utterly obnoxious until Sam had gotten his hands on a cup of coffee. Just because he was already awake didn't mean Sam had to be happy about it. This morning, though, Dean was still out like a light, his breath crackling audibly in his lungs. Sam brushed his fingers as lightly as he could over his forehead, checking surreptitiously for fever, wasn't sure that his brother wasn't a little too warm. Without a thermometer it was impossible to tell for sure. If it was a fever, it was low enough not to be an immediate cause for concern.

A glance at the clock told him they'd slept later than usual. A lot later, in fact. He put it down to exhaustion, a poor night's sleep, and the fact that they were sleeping on the most comfortable bed they'd had in years. Between motels and the Impala, the beds they usually had ranged from lumpy to barely acceptable, but almost never qualified as comfortable. He found Andy in the kitchen, staring gloomily at a carton of eggs on the counter. He looked up at Sam's approach, and smiled sheepishly.

“Uh, hey. I mean, g'morning. I thought it would maybe be better if I let you guys sleep a bit. You looked like you could use it.”

“You weren't far wrong,” Sam agreed, eyeing the eggs. “That bed's really comfortable. More comfortable than anything I've slept on recently, anyway. So what's all this?”

“I figured I ought to get groceries. We can't eat out all the time. Not cheap, you know. Except I suck at cooking, to be honest.”

Sam grinned. “Well, I can cook eggs, in spite of what Dean says. They're not really exciting, but it's hard to wreck scrambled eggs. Got a pan?”

It felt nice to go about the ritual of making breakfast. Even in an unfamiliar kitchen, the small gestures came back to him, the scent of real coffee brewing instead of instant stuff made on the run, or cheap cups grabbed in gas stations, the sound of eggs and bacon sizzling in a pan. When he'd been at Stanford he'd made a point of making breakfast for Jess on Sunday mornings, with her watching him from her spot, half-sitting on the kitchen windowsill, mug of coffee cradled in both hands. Sometimes she'd help, chopping onions for an omelette, and she'd give him a playful hip-check, teasing him about being in her way, all arms and legs, and then breakfast would be forgotten for a while. The thought made his heart skip a few painful beats in his chest, but the memory was a good one, and he couldn't quite bring himself to banish it.

“You okay?”

He looked up, surprised, hadn't realized how much he'd been telegraphing his emotions. “Yeah, sorry. I was thinking about something else. My girlfriend,” he clarified, wondering why he suddenly felt the need to explain himself.

“I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Thought it was just you and your brother,” Andy was busy setting the table, looking oddly domestic in his stocking feet.

“It is. She died last year.”

“Oh, man, I'm sorry. That really sucks,” the sincerity was unmistakeable, even if the delivery was awkward. “Uh, how...?”

“It was a fire,” Sam said shortly, then relented when he saw the look on Andy's face. “The demon killed her. Same way it killed my mother.”

Andy paled. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to tell him. He was probably worried about Tracy, now, and with good reason. The yellow-eyed demon wasn't exactly pulling its punches lately. Sam was saved from having to try to fix what he'd just done by the sound of Dean thumping his way down the stairs and poking his head into the kitchen. He looked like death warmed over, deep circles under his eyes, his skin pale, hair still mussed, clad in the sweats and wife-beater that Sam had coaxed him into the night before. He obviously hadn't bothered to shower yet, or even to brush his teeth.

“Bordig,” he padded into the kitchen in bare feet, his voice barely audible above a croak, and painful-sounding.

“Jesus, Dean,” Sam blurted before he could think about it, and was rewarded with a glare. Dealing with a sick Dean was fifty percent science, fifty percent complex performance art, and Sam wasn't exactly on top of his game these days. Clearing his throat, he changed tactics. “There's fresh coffee and orange juice, and if you're willing to wait a couple more minutes, there'll be scrambled eggs and bacon.”

Dean just looked at him and nodded his thanks.

“I'm guessing you're not going to be doing a lot of talking today?”

Dean shook his head, buried his nose in his elbow. “HHEIISHH!” He kept his arm up over his face, coughing painfully.

“Gesundheit.” Sam felt his face crease into an expression of sympathy. He left the eggs to cook, poured coffee into a mug and handed it to his brother before rummaging in the fridge for the orange juice. “You think you could stand to eat something?” he slid the eggs and the bacon onto separate plates as he spoke, laid them out on the table. “See? I promise I didn't burn anything.”

Dean gave him a weak smile, then turned a dubious look on the food. He swallowed his coffee with an obvious effort, stared at the food for a while longer as though he might just be able to intimidate it into consuming itself, then shook his head minutely and stood up again. “Goig to tagke a shower,” he said, his look daring Sam to say anything about the way his voice broke on most of the words, faded before the sentence was even finished.

Sam simply nodded. “Don't use up all the hot water.”

Dean rolled his eyes, turned his back to sneeze into his cupped hands. “HEPKTSCH! HEIISHHUH! HEPKCHUH!”

“I mean it, Dean.”

His brother made a very distinctive “whatever” motion in the air with one hand, disappeared back up the stairs. Sam heard him coughing even from the second floor, and bit his tongue, trying not to worry too much. Dean rarely got sick. Banged around, sure: he spent most of his time being tossed around by various supernatural nasties, and Sam had splinted and bandaged and stitched him up more times than he cared to count. Getting outright sick, though, that was rare. He couldn't remember the last time Dean had come down with a virus, and this one seemed like it was kicking his ass. He found himself wondering if everything that had happened —the djinn, the demon threat perpetually hanging over them, Dad— if maybe that hadn't all come together and wrecked Dean's immune system. Whatever it was, he was sick now, and getting visibly sicker as time went on.

“You guys have the most dysfunctional relationship ever,” Andy remarked, making Sam jump. He'd forgotten he was there, sitting quietly at the table, sipping at his coffee.

Sam gave a small huff of laughter. “We make it work.”

“The mind-to-mind communication thing you've got going is pretty cool, though.”

Sam shrugged. “There's nothing special about it. We just... know each other.”

“Uh-huh. I can tell. It's still pretty cool. I'm an only child, never had that.” Andy tucked into his portion of eggs with enthusiasm. “I think he's worried about you.”

“Dean's always worried about me. It's like his default mode.”

Andy arched an eyebrow at his tone. “No, I get that. I mean really worried. Like, making himself sick worried.”

With a sigh Sam plunked himself down in a chair, reached for his own coffee. “I know. I just... there's not much I can do to make him stop worrying, you know? It's not like there's a switch in his head that I can just flick on and off.”

“I guess. You think he's going to be okay to, uh, keep looking into this?”

“The problem will be trying to convince him not to keep going. Dean subscribes to the 'walk it off' philosophy of sickness. A trait he got from our Dad.”

Andy surprised him by laughing. “Oh, 'cause you're so reasonable about it? Come on, man, you passed out in the street yesterday. I mean, you were practically convulsing. We had to carry you back here, and now you're telling me that you can pop a couple of Tylenol and it's all cool?”

Sam ducked his head with a small smile. “Touché.”

“Oh, man,” Andy was still chuckling. “No matter how badly this whole situation sucks, I gotta say my life has never been as interesting since I met you guys. It's all so freaking messed up,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, “but it's kind of fun, too, in its own weird, messed-up way.”

“I know what you mean,” Sam surprised himself by agreeing. It was fun, in a weird way. He'd never thought of hunting that way before, but it was undoubtedly satisfying to piece things together, help people, to know he'd made a measurable difference in the world. And it was actually fun, too: exhilarating in a way that the normal life he always thought he'd wanted could never be.

“So, uh, that woman in your vision? Think you could recognize her now?”

“Maybe,” he scrunched up his nose, got up to fetch his laptop and the papers from the living room where Dean had left them the day before. He spread them on the kitchen table, shoving the dishes to the side, and looked at the photographs again. He immediately eliminated three of the women, then re-read the birth notices. —“You can't have him!”— echoed in his mind, and he discarded the women who'd given birth to girls. “Well, that narrows it down more,” he said, staring at the remaining three women. “Not sure it was worth the potential ruptured blood vessel, but yeah. It's one of these three. This one, I think, but I can't be sure. Lesley Barnes. D'you have internet access?”

“No, but the neighbours have wireless. Why?”

By way of answer Sam pulled out his laptop, flipped it open, and hooked into the network. “If we're going to interview this woman, we have to know where she lives, right?” A few keystrokes found him an address. The good thing about people who otherwise had nothing to hide was that they were ridiculously easy to find. “She lives on South 14th Street. Know where that is?”

“Yeah. It's right next to Noble Park, right on the banks of Cottonwood Creek. It's not that far.”

“Right. As soon as Dean's ready, we'll figure out just how we're going to get Lesley to talk to us. FBI is probably a bit of a stretch,” Sam tapped a finger against his laptop, thinking out loud.

“I could always... you know...”

“If she's one of the demon's kids, or whatever, that might not work,” Sam pointed out.

“Oh. Right. I forgot.”

Yeah, well, I didn't, Sam thought, a little bitterly. Sometimes it felt like he'd never be allowed to forget any of it.

*****

[Aprilcot]

Believe me, this story cracks me up!!

It's so good! And Dean is soo annoyingly funny and brotherly!!!!

I want an older brother!!!!

Please continue!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[LOSTfreak]

*makes a pathetic whining noise* It's so good! My power of speech has returned and I must say that the sicker Dean gets, the more jubilant I become. I'm extremely excited for the next part! I'll be down in Hell .

[W.I.N.]

Believe me, this story cracks me up!!

It's so good! And Dean is soo annoyingly funny and brotherly!!!!

I want an older brother!!!!

Please continue!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love the early Dean. He spends a lot of time just getting on Sam's nerves by doing older brother things —borrowing his stuff, chewing with his mouth open, calling him "Sammy" (although that one I think is kind of involuntary), using up all the hot water... I'm an only child, so all this comes from watching how my friends interact with their older siblings.

I'm glad you're enjoying this. I'm having a lot of fun writing it.

*makes a pathetic whining noise* It's so good! My power of speech has returned and I must say that the sicker Dean gets, the more jubilant I become. I'm extremely excited for the next part! I'll be down in Hell .

Woo, you're articulate again!

If you'll be down in Hell, I have a feeling I'll be driving the bus there.

I'm really glad people seem to be liking it so much. Means I'm doing something right.

~W.I.N.

[aggedy_ann]

*winces* I don't know if it's cuz I just got over some sort of virus thingy or your writing or both, probably both. But I can seriously feel Dean's pain here. I've been better for about a week, and your writing just brings it back and makes me totally empathize with Dean. Poor muffin.

[W.I.N.]

*winces* I don't know if it's cuz I just got over some sort of virus thingy or your writing or both, probably both. But I can seriously feel Dean's pain here. I've been better for about a week, and your writing just brings it back and makes me totally empathize with Dean. Poor muffin.

Ouch. *winces too*

Sorry.

Dean really is a poor muffin, though. I hadn't originally planned on him getting quite this sick, but as I continued writing it just made more sense that way. Like I said, I'm really mean to him in this story. Poor bunny. *pets him*

~W.I.N.

[Fae]

I love it. The boys are adorable. I would love to see dean having to stay in bed or nestled on the couch. I am really enjoying this

[ID2006]

love love love this..... as with all your work.

[W.I.N.]

I love it. The boys are adorable. I would love to see dean having to stay in bed or nestled on the couch. I am really enjoying this

You may have to wait a few chapters, but I'm pretty sure you won't be disappointed on that front. There were some pretty specific requests in the prompt I got, so it's going to happen, but Dean is a *very* stubborn guy, so it'll take a bit more to knock him off his feet. God, I'm mean.

love love love this..... as with all your work.

Aww, thank you!

~W.I.N.

[Fae]

Yummmmmmmm! I look forward to that.

[Lady Blessington]

There's NOTHING like a slow descent into mega-head-cold that gets continually reexamined as it hits new stages.

You just win, W.I.N.

*smishes you until you can't breathe*

[telltale]

Oh wow, I just OD'd on like five chapters of this. Mmm.

Lovely sick!Dean aside, what an engaging read. I'm on the edge of my seat reading it! Also, I was never an Andy fan before, but I so am now. CUTE.

I hadn't originally planned on him getting quite this sick, but as I continued writing it just made more sense that way.

Ahahaha!

Ahem. I'm a big fan of super!sick!Dean, as you may have noticed, so that got an evil laugh out of me.

I love that he's losing his voice, btw. It's so... idk. ::snuggles Dean::

[W.I.N.]

Yummmmmmmm! I look forward to that.

Glad to oblige!

There's NOTHING like a slow descent into mega-head-cold that gets continually reexamined as it hits new stages.

You just win, W.I.N.

*smishes you until you can't breathe*

Gack! *wheeze*

And yes, slow descent into the Head Cold of Doom is my kind of story. Very glad you're enjoying it. Uh... let's just say we haven't hit rock bottom yet, either.

Oh wow, I just OD'd on like five chapters of this. Mmm.

Lovely sick!Dean aside, what an engaging read. I'm on the edge of my seat reading it! Also, I was never an Andy fan before, but I so am now. CUTE.

I hadn't originally planned on him getting quite this sick, but as I continued writing it just made more sense that way.

Ahahaha!

Ahem. I'm a big fan of super!sick!Dean, as you may have noticed, so that got an evil laugh out of me.

I love that he's losing his voice, btw. It's so... idk. ::snuggles Dean::

I was wondering where you'd got to! I figured life must've gotten crazy, but I missed your comments.

I'm glad that you were able to come back to a whole bunch of bonus chapters, though. I always love it when that happens: a short period of absence compensated by lots and lots of ficcy goodness.

When I have a cold the first thing to go is my voice, so I decided to inflict that on Dean. For one, it must be SUPER frustrating for him not to be able to talk (how can he snark at Sam with no voice?), plus it gives me an excuse to play with the fact that he is EXTREMELY physically expressive. The boy is 90% body language anyway, so I wanted that to shine through.

~W.I.N.

[telltale]

I was wondering where you'd got to! I figured life must've gotten crazy, but I missed your comments.

I'm glad that you were able to come back to a whole bunch of bonus chapters, though. I always love it when that happens: a short period of absence compensated by lots and lots of ficcy goodness.

When I have a cold the first thing to go is my voice, so I decided to inflict that on Dean. For one, it must be SUPER frustrating for him not to be able to talk (how can he snark at Sam with no voice?), plus it gives me an excuse to play with the fact that he is EXTREMELY physically expressive. The boy is 90% body language anyway, so I wanted that to shine through.

~W.I.N.

It was sooo nice to come back to a bunch of chapters, yes! What a treat!

And it's true that Dean is very physically expressive. What comes out of his mouth is mostly all snark, snark, snark, but his face ALWAYS gives him away. More when you can, pleease? I'm so pumped to read more of this!

[W.I.N.]

It was sooo nice to come back to a bunch of chapters, yes! What a treat!

And it's true that Dean is very physically expressive. What comes out of his mouth is mostly all snark, snark, snark, but his face ALWAYS gives him away. More when you can, pleease? I'm so pumped to read more of this!

More is coming right up.

Poor Dean. It must be really frustrating to have Sam read him like an open book all the time.

~W.I.N.