Oddity's short story thread (SPN)

[Rika]

Man, each one just gets better and better.

Dean all stuffed up and trying to talk....gah.

And Dean hurt but only caring about his brother.

You slay me.

SLAY ME.

And I love it.

[Zwee]

That's adorable! I totally forgot about that, Sam WOULD want to know all about his mom, and Dean would want to recreate his sick day. Because it's kind of a fact that Dean's a mommy's boy. And this was too cute. Loved it. Thank you!!

[27jj]

“I dunno.” Sam shrugged. “I guess this is kinda my last chance to hear these stories.”

MY HEART.

Mmm, love me some stuffed-up Dean though;) I thought it was adorable how Sam wanted to give him his sick day! Your stories make me haaaapppyyyyyyy.

[SexualOddity]

Aw man, I'm really sorry to post on here before updating, but I just wanted to tell Zane that I just met Castiel. Oh my goodness! I've only watched one episode but... wow. I'll definitely try to come up with something for you

[Lady Blessington]

Oh, whoa. HI. Hiiiii. Hello provider of new and fabulous sneezy Deeeean. I love your thoughtful/concerned Sammeh and your bedraggled Dean with his sense of humour still intact. And your spellings and crazy-hot buildups. Rock ON.

[Foxfire]

OMG!!! You are an absolutely awesome SPN Story Writer - and soo many! How did I miss them?!?!?

Sick Faith Dean - I can totally image that Sam is afraid of losing Dean. Never thought about that but it makes so much sense that Sam is kind of obsessed with Dean's health! Very very very good story!

Sneezy Sam and Girl Dean - Hilarious! All my colleagues are looking at me like I'm crazy because I'm laughing like a maniac :

Both sick - Awww! Poor boys! I kind of want to snuggle them! Anyone else in???

Sick Season 3 Dean - Now I'm sad But I love how Dean tries to console his brother - to bad all will end bloody...

[SexualOddity]

Thank you again guys. Your comments make my day.

I'm still trying to figure out a decent Castiel idea for Zane, but so far I can't quite come up with a credible reason for an angel to sneeze. I might have a look back on some of the other Cas stories on here.

In the meantime though, here's some allergic!Sam. I almost didn't write this one because it has a nosebleed and I really hate anything icky, but it was one of those ideas that wouldn't leave me alone til I'd written it, so I've dialed down on the ick as much as humanly possible, but if you're really sensitive to that stuff (like me) you might want to give this a miss or at least proceed with caution.

Also, if you don't know series 4 well, this will mean absolutely nothing to you. Sorry! If you do know it well though, it should make sense... providing I haven't been too cryptic!

--

Breath hitching, Sam fumbled in the glove compartment for a box of tissues. Pulling a tissue from the box, he clamped it around his nose and mouth before dissolving yet again into a fit of muffled sneezes. “Hu-ISSHHHoo! HurrASHHoo! HuhASHoo! HISHOO! HISHOO! Hur-ISHOO Hur-ITDCHoo! Huuh… huuh HuDJCHoo!”

Sniffing, he ran the back of his hand under his nose, only to leave a trail of blood where he had wiped. Swearing under his breath he took a huge wad of tissues and used them to pinch his nose tightly as each breath became harsh and juddering as he prepared for another fit of sneezing.

“Heh-UMPJTCH-choo! Heh-UMPT-chu! Heh-IMPTCH! Heh-IMPTCH! Heh-IMPTCH! Heh-IMPTCH! Heh-IMPT-choo!”

When the fit finally came to an end, huffing with exhaustion, Sam dropped the now-blood-stained clump of tissues into a quickly-filling waste paper bag by his feet and took another bundle to hold under his nose. One hand occupied with stemming the bleeding, he fumbled with his water bottle, trying to unscrew the lid.

Dean sighed. “Pass it here.”

Dean took the bottle from his brother and unscrewed it, before pouring a small amount onto a separate wad of tissue that Sam held out for him and tilting the rear view mirror in Sam’s direction.

“You see okay?”

“Mmhm,” Sam answered, using his free hand to wipe blood from his face with the sodden tissue.

Dean watched his brother, forehead creased in a frown. “Sam,” he began, “I think we’re gonna hafta take you to an allergist.”

Sam shook his head and dropped the wet tissue into the wastepaper bag. “The pollen count’s really high. It’ll stop when it settles down,”

Dean looked unconvinced. “I’ve seen you when the pollen’s high a million times. I’ve never seen this before yesterday.”

Sam tipped his head forward and pinched hard on the bridge of his nose. “You worry too much.”

Dean sighed again, frustrated. “I just wish I knew what was causing it. Has your hayfever felt worse this year?” he asked, turning the mirror back to reflect the road behind them.

“Nope.”

“You taking different medicine for it?”

Sam shook his head.

“Well, it’s not anything that grows locally,” Dean reasoned, “We were here last year during allergy season. You still bleeding?”

Sam briefly removed the tissue from under his nose to check. He nodded.

Dean clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t get it. I mean you don’t even get nosebleeds. I can’t remember a single time. Well, apart from when you were…”

But the next word caught in his throat. He turned slowly to Sam, afraid to see an answer in his brother’s eyes. Sam was studying his shoes.

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice quavered on the word.

Sam let out a long sigh. “If I tried to explain, would you even listen?” he muttered, his voice dangerously soft.

Dean’s teeth clenched, his own voice tight and toneless now. “What could you possibly say?”

Sam didn’t answer.

Dean slammed the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “Fuck this Sam!”

They drove the rest of their journey in silence.

[VividBubbles!]

Hmmmmm... intresting, intresting. I really liked this drabble. Usually I don't like allergy sneeze stories but I mean this takes the cake! I wonder what's causing Sam to sneeze. Hmmmm. I can't wait for your Castiel story! MORE SNEEZY!SAM! UPDATE SOON!

BYE!

[Zwee]

Aww... I really liked this. It made me hurt a little, because of the crazy 4th season plot that made me want to throw something, but I still REALLY liked it. AND it helped that I'm looking back on it, which means I can just enjoy the fact that Sam's sensitivity to pollen is increased by the thing that makes me want to throw something! Hey, you must be a genius! You're making me love this torn up, broken Sam! Not that I didn't while he was this torn up and broken, but you're making me love him in a different way! Cute, cute. And I definitely loved Dean's reaction. Even though it's upsetting. Thanks!

[27jj]

Oh, wow. Very interesting!! Firstly, you write amazing allergic!Sammy sneezing fits. Also, I am weirdly okay with nosebleeds as long as they're in fic... poor Sammy;( And I love that you set this in S4- even if it hurts my heart a little. Ahh, when Dean realizes what's going on...Nicely done!!

[iluvsneezes]

Very nice!!!

[Lady Blessington]

SexualOddity, I can't message you because your account is new, but please come play at my sneezy-SPN-boys comment-fic meme on LJ! And everybody else too.

[Rika]

Hey madserver!

Can we get a link?

Or should we just search for you?

Not sure how LJ works...

[Lady Blessington]

Oh sorry! LOL

http://mad-server.livejournal.com/56533.html

[Foxfire]

Poor Sam. Being all sneezy and bloody and all because of...

Poor Dean, too. After Hell and with Sam being kind of a mystery - not very easy life he came back to...

[SexualOddity]

Another meme one. Short this time so I thought I'd post it here.

--

Dean was sick to the back teeth of fucking light duties. This sucked. Sam sucked. Hell, when Sam broke his arm, Dean couldn’t remember a single time that he’d told him he shouldn’t be doing something. But an ankle, that’s different apparently, that’s more dangerous. Stupid, pansy-ass geek.

So, basically, this was Dean’s Saturday night. Babysitting Boring-MacBoratron while Sam drove out in HIS car to salt and burn a ghost. Like Dean couldn’t salt and burn a ghost for fuck’s sake. But, no he was sat here at MacBoratron’s kitchen table, spinning a bullet around on the wood for entertainment, while Boratron tried to convince him to look at his stamp collection. Wonderful.

But things changed damn quickly when the lights began to flicker. Dean took his crutches from where they were propped against the dinner table and hobbled into the living room, to see what was going on. Nothing.

Pulling open the door to the stairwell, Dean turned to Boratron, “Karl (that was Boratron’s name), do me a favour and get me the salt from your kitchen.”

Boratron nodded enthusiastically and disappeared, leaving Dean to sigh in frustration and think about managing the stairs.

He was a few steps up and progress was fucking slow when Boratron caught up to him and pressed a shaker into his hands.

“Salt,” he told Dean.

Dean murmured his thanks and hauled himself up the remaining stairs. When he reached the top there was the figure of a pale woman in a torn dress. Without thinking twice, Dean let one of his crutches drop to the ground, took the stopper from the base of the salt cellar and launched salt over the ghost.

Dean blinked when the ghost didn’t respond, and then reflexively wrinkled up his nose. “Oh you have got to be kidding me,” he groaned as he realised what had happened. “HehtSHUH!” he sneezed, twisting to one side. “S-salt Karl! HuhASHHAH!” he yelled down the stairs, his jaw set in frustration. “HeptCHUH!” He scanned the room for anything he could use as a weapon. He frowned at what looked like a replica Halberd. It could be iron, he reasoned, screwing up his nose as it stung from the pepper that was thick in the air.

“HEHPT-CHISSHyew!” he sneezed violently into his elbow, before hobbling on a single crutch to pick up the model weapon. “HehptTCHU! God!” he spat in frustration, only to be caught by another sudden sneeze that had him bending at the waist. “HehTCHOOAH!” He gave a long and liquid sniff, before instantly realising that, surrounded as he was by pepper-heavy air, that probably hadn’t been the smartest idea. And yeah, everything fricking exploded. “HepTCHAH! HeptCHAH!” He clung on tight to the axe as sneeze after sneeze battered through him. “HeHEPTCHAH! HeptCHISSYEW! CHISSHHYEW! ISSHH!”

He could just barely manage to snatch a glance at the ghost between sneezes, but it was enough. As it lurched towards him, he swung with the Halberd. Dean sneezed and the ghost screamed and vanished. So it had been iron. Idiot wannabe had more money than sense.

Just as the spirit disappeared, Boratron appeared at the top of the stairs, holding what Dean could only assume was, this time, an actual salt cellar. Dean’s mouth opened in amazement, but before he could say anything, he was bent double once again, leaning over his crutch with a set of furious sneezes. “ESSSHA! HuhESSHA! HA-HAPTCHISSHYEW!”

“I brought the salt,” Karl offered.

Dean could have turned the stupid toy axe on him.

***

Fifteen minutes later, Dean was back in the Impala. In the fucking passenger seat, mind, but it was better than nothing. He had his head tipped back over the head rest, the fingers of one hand massaging the bridge of his nose.

“I swear to God, it still burns,” he told his brother before wriggling his nose. “HehESSHyew!”

Sam reached over Dean to open up the glove compartment. “Blow your nose again,” he instructed, holding out the box of tissues.

Dean pulled out a few tissues, but instead kept them hovering just in front of his nose, looking remarkably vacant with his eyes drooping and mouth hanging open. It made Sam chuckle.

“HurISSHHyew!” Dean sneezed, “HaHITTchyew! Shouldd have kdnownd you’d find this… HurASHHH! funny.

“I find it genius,” Sam told him. “How in all this time have I never thought of it before? I could have replaced your entire canister.”

Dean glared at Sam from behind the tissue as he blew his nose. “Oh yeah, cos that’d be such a smart move on a hunt. HaISSHH!”

Sam reached a hand across to his brother’s shoulder. “Aw Dean, I would have watched out for you.”

Dean sucked his teeth and rubbed the underside of his nose with the back of his hand. “I swear to God Sammy, you ever try pull anything like that and itching powder down your pants is gonna seem like a cake-walk.”

Sam grinned.

“And about that,” Dean continued.

“About what?”

“Watching out for me. You can…” He sniffed. “You can quit it. HehHISSHHu!”

Sam eyed him, not understanding.

“I just took out a spirit on crutches, up a whole bunch of stairs, sneezing my fricking head off. HiTCH-TCHU! Don’t you fucking dare tell me I can’t do a salt and burn.” He thumbed through his music collection for a cassette tape and put it into the stereo, then snatched at another tissue to rub his nose. “Now drive us to the drugstore. My throat is sore.”

--

Written for this awesome prompt by 27_JJ:

Sam and Dean are hunting a ghost. They split up, one to go salt and burn the bones while the other one stays with the victim. The spirit shows up at the vic’s house, the Winchester who’s with him/her says, hurry go get your salt from your kitchen. She/he goes but accidently grabs the pepper. Pepper gets everywhere. Winchester sneezes. Winchester is also badass enough to fend off the spirit anyway.

[VividBubbles!]

Hehe! This is adorable! They should totally make an episode where the get pepper instead of salt! I'd watch it over and over and over and over. IT'D BE AWESOME! UPDATE SOON!

BYE!

[flower]

SexualOddity--you are very quickly becoming one of my favorite writers on here. I don't know why I didn't read these before. My favorite so far is the one with Dean sick from season 3. You write great "stuffy nose talk". I can't wait for more, thank you!!

[SexualOddity]

This is a meme one again, but it's short so I thought I'd stick it in here:

Space.

Dean… Dean doesn’t really see past what’s right in front of him. Pain to Dean is the way that Sam will hold his neck stiffly if Dean ever convinces him to come out of this wardrobe. It’s the way that Sam’s face will look when Dean opens the door, swollen and red and irritated. It’s the near-constant sniffling and sneezing that he can hear from the other side of the door. That’s pain to Dean. It’s what Sam’s doing to himself.

He doesn’t get that it’s a trade-off. It makes no sense to Dean, because he’s obsessing over the aches and pains and allergies, and it looks like some kind of self-hating masochism. But if he only knew the alternative he wouldn’t look at Sam that way. Sam is being sensible. Sam is taking care of himself. Because this: this wardrobe, this ache in his neck and knot in his back, the prickling in his nose, his itchy eyes and the dry, irritating tickle at the back of this throat; this makes sense. He can handle it. He knows where it starts and ends, how far between the door and the roof and his face, he knows exactly what hurts and what’s bothering him, and where it is. It’s dark, but he can stretch his hands out and feel solid, so he only has to worry about the distance between that solidity and himself.

“CHUH! CHUH! HehtCHUHhuh!”

Sam can hear Dean’s sigh. It sounds as if he’s leaning against the door.

“This really isn’t doing you any good Sammy.”

Sam doesn’t reply.

“Will you please just come out and talk to me?”

Sam just rubs his nose against his bunched up legs and sneezes some more.

“You know, you’re kinda too big for the wardrobe now Sammy. You don’t fit. Why don’t you come out here and we can sit on the bed. You can spread out a little and it’s not so dusty.”

“I don’t like the bed,” Sam murmurs.

No one says anything for a minute, but when Dean does speak there is the slightest hint of frustration in his tone. Sam notices.

“Why?”

“It’s too big.”

There is another sigh. “Sam, it’s over now. Big is good, you’ve spent too long in cages.”

Sam doesn’t answer for a long time, just rests his head back awkwardly against the wood, his neck achingly resistant. Eventually he mutters. “It’s not a cage.”

“Come out then Sammy?”

“No.” The answer is instant.

“Why?”

Sam sighs, and sneezes, and pulls an arm to his face so he can rub his nose on his sleeve, and wheezes against the dusty air.

“It’s small in here.”

There is no answer from the other side of the wardrobe.

Sam drums his fingers against the wardrobe door. “I can forget about out there. Here there’s just this space. This: between my eyes and the door. I can watch that. And if the space is safe then I’ll be safe.” He feels his cheeks heat up as he tries to explain.

“It’s small under the covers too,” Dean replies at last, “Especially if you’re wrapped up in my arms.”

“Room’s big.”

“Then let me do the watching for you.”

Sam sighs. “I’ll work up to it.”

And the prompt: Since returning from the cage, Sam struggles with wide open spaces (sure, it was a cage, but it was Lucifer's cage, so that doesn't mean it wasn't vast and endless and empty and so completely filled with them).

Sam now takes refuge in small, tight, compact, restricting spaces (no room for him) such as being wedged between furniture, curled under beds, wrapped up in his brothers arms.

[glaciosity]

all of these are so good! ewncspiefwjoad:') i feel so many emotions, i can't even...

keep going! i want to read more; i can't wait!

[Lady Blessington]

Oh man. Dean and the pepper shaker are still so hot.

[LovelyLinda]

Awww, I missed your drabbles <3

They are amazingly well written! I loved the idea with Dean and the pepper shaker, it's so fucking hot *_*

And I loved Sam being all 'Heh, I should have thought of that earlier" =D

Pleeeease, let there be more, the world needs sneezy sexy Dean

[SexualOddity]

Another ickle one. Just a little meaningless allergy drabble. For JJ's meme.

Tired eyes warm into a grin as they walk through the door.

“Well now, it’s been a while. How’re you two boys doing?”

“I’bm dyindg” Sam’s voice comes croakily from behind Dean.

“What he means is: it’s Spring.”

“You get hayfever?” Ellen asks, looking at Sam over Dean’s shoulder.

“Yes, yes, to thadt questiond.” Sam replies, emphatically. “Andd it is way worse thand just dormal sprindg.”

He half-heartedly swats Dean on the arm with the back of his hand, presumably by way of punishment. Before Dean can retaliate though, Sam is turning away, wrist pressed up against his nose and struggling one-handed to unravel a roll of toilet paper from his pocket.

“Let me,” Dean offers, as he takes the roll from Sam and breaks off a few sheets to hand over.

“HehhKHISHUuu!” He lifts the paper to his face just in time and gives a couple of heavy breaths before he’s off into a fit. “HehhTISSHHHoo! ISHHHU! HISSHH!”

Ellen raises an eyebrow when Sam keeps on going. “He gets it bad.”

“Well, he does, but this is from driving through the fucking wilderness . Kid ran out of tablets yesterday and there was nowhere to buy more.”

Ellen frowns. “Want me to see if anyone has any?”

“Nah, we’ve got some now. Bought them from some guy we saw. They haven’t kicked in yet.” He glances over at Sam, who is still sneezing. “Obviously.”

Sam seems to be slowing down, which makes Dean marginally less worried about his brother hyperventilated in the middle of the fucking bar. Sam fusses with his eyes and nose.

“HUHHT-TCHYEW! TCHYEW! HuhSHEW! I’bm gondda… HehPSSHYEW!” he manages wearily before dissolving into sneezes once again. In the end he just waves a lacklustre arm in the general direction of the corner of the bar and holds out a hand for the rest of the toilet roll.

“God,” Ellen comments as Sam settles himself at one of the tables. “You wanting a drink?”

“Oh God yes.”

Ellen chuckles as she takes a pint glass from the shelf. “You’d think you were the one who was suffering.”

“Hey, I have to deal with all his snotty tissues in my car,” Dean protests. “Better get one for sneezy over there too though.” He fishes in his pocket for some cash. “I think he probably needs it.”

“So dare I ask… business or pleasure Dean?”

Dean snorts. “More like, get us the fuck indoors. Have you any idea how hot that car is with the windows up.”

Ellen laughs, then winces at the sound of Sam launching into yet another sneezing fit in the corner of the room.

“Guess I’d better go sit with the patient,” Dean tells her, before handing over a note and scooping up the two glasses. Sam’s stopped sneezing by the time Dean gets over there. Instead he’s just slumped on the table, forehead against the wood and hair falling over his face like he’s some big, allergic, brown-haired mop.

Sam looks up wearily as Dean sits down, and damn he does look awful. His eyes are completely bloodshot, nose red and utterly raw, and Dean wonders whether that swollen up skin is just allergic-puffiness or the start of a sinus infection. He brushes flat, sweaty hair from Sam’s forehead, sneaking in a sneaky brush with the backs of his fingers against Sam’s skin as he does so. It’s cool, which is something. Dean makes a mental note to keep an eye on it anyway.

He gives Sam a sympathetic frown. “You look… very uncomfortable.”

“I feel very undcombfortable,” Sam mutters. He sniffs, and wrinkles his nose, rubbing the underside hard with his finger. And God, the kid looks so pathetic, all stuffy, and sweaty from the heat, so miserable he’s almost pouting, breathing roughly through his mouth as his nose begins to twitch.

“You’re so adorable.” He smiles at Sam, who’s already surrounded by his own private collection of crumpled up tissues.

Sam raises an eyebrow. “It’s dot the word I’d use.”

Dean grins and takes a swig from his beer. “True though. You remind me of when you were a kid clutching at a tissue, stamping your feet and asking me when Spring was gonna be over.”

Sam eyes suddenly sharpen on the corner of the table, where they had been looking lazily. He breathes deeply and then lets it all go almost in a mouthful. It reminds Dean of an awning, billowing and shrinking against a sudden gust of wind. His nose is twitching rapidly then and he grabs at the toilet roll.

“For fucks sake!” Sam almost growls through gritted teeth. But then he’s breathing again, fast this time, all these quick little gasps tumbling out over one another, and he’s lifting with each of them, head tipping back…

“HihKiHISHYEW! UHKTCHYEW! EhhTCHYEW! EhkKCHHISHHYEW! UHSHHuu! USHHUU! USHHHH! H’USHHh! H’USSHHhu! Heh! USHHH! USHHH! USHHH! Huh…Huh…USHHH! HEHKHHITCHYEW!”

When he finishes he sinks back against the table, groggily reaching for some more toilet roll to hold against his nose. “Deand…” he murmurs.

“What’s up kid?”

“Is Sprindg over yet?”

[glaciosity]

These are all so satisfying. Allergic puppy dog Sammy is adorable. Your writing is brilliant.

[SexualOddity]

Thank you! Just realised I forgot the Prompt for this one:

High pollen count day, and Sam's out of/forgot to take allergy meds, which means lots of sneezing and itchiness. Poor Sam gets irritable on days like this. Dean thinks it's kind of adorable. Prompt by 27_JJ