An odd one.

[SexualOddity]

(Odd... see what I did there? Heheheh... Okay, no.)

But this is actually kind of weird because I wrote a while ago for a totally different prompt, but then I found it and kind of liked it and tried to force the halfwrittenyness to be a story in it's own right. And didn't really achieve it. But hey, it has allergicSam in it (and sick-but-not-sneezy-Dean, if you like that sort of thing), so...

--

It was always going to happen. Always. Hell, they’d been playing with death since they were in short trousers and not just the monster kind. Dental floss and alcohol dipped needles: it wasn’t exactly aseptic surgery. In fact, it was a testament to Sam that they’d gone this long without anything happening before. Dean told Sam that. He wasn’t sure if it made him feel any less guilty, but Sam stopped apologising in the end. Maybe he just took the hint.

It was stupid really, since it had been Sam who had got Dean through this with so few complications: no organ failure, no shock. It was sepsis, but it was straightforward sepsis, as far as such a thing existed. When it had all started Sam had seemed to know within seconds what was going on, and within twenty minutes they were at the hospital, Sam arguing at the reception staff and drilling them on what Dean needed.

Dean turned his phone over in his hand, the message: ‘8 missed calls’, still flashing up on the screen. Goddamn, Sammy could do with chilling out a little. Dean told Sam sometimes that he was stupid and overprotective. Sam told Dean it ran in the family.

There was an electronic beep from the thermometer, and Dean pulled it from his mouth. Ninety-nine. He flipped the phone open and punched in Sam’s number.

“What the hell Dean? You were supposed to call an hour ago!”

Dean grinned. “Aw, did you worry Sammy? I overslept,” he added, when it became clear that Sam wasn’t going to play along. “It’s ninety-nine, same as the past three weeks. Shocking, I know.”

“Okay,” Sam yielded. “How do you feel? Please don’t joke with me,” he added, “You’ve had me climbing the walls.”

“You’re sweet. Obsessive and sweet.”

“How do you feel?” Sam repeated, wearily.

“Got a bit of a headache. No big deal.”

“Okay. Take your painkillers, alright? I’ll be home in an hour.”

“Sure. Hey Sam…”

“Mmm?”

“I’m sorry. That I worried you and all.”

“It’s okay,” Sam told him, and Dean was sure he could hear just a hint of a smile in Sam’s voice this time. “I’ve long since come to terms with the fact that you live to drive me crazy.”

“Ninety nine.”

“Okay,” Sam sniffed “HuhUHSHHU! How d’you feel?”

Dean considered this. “Okay,” he answered. “Bit headachy.”

“Did…” The line went silent for a moment, and then Dean could hear Sam breathing. “Huuh Uh EihISSHU! Huh-eh ISSHU! Huh-ISSH! Huh-ISSHU! Did you take your painkillers?”

“Not yet. Did you take your medicine? Jesus!”

“Yeah.” He sniffed. “Okay, take your painkillers, and call me if it gets any worse. I’ll be home in about an hour.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he shut the phone. Sometimes he felt like reminding Sam just which one of them was the big brother. He didn’t though, because, well, Sam cared, and that made Sam feel better, and God knew this whole thing had been scary, for Sam more than for Dean.

So Dean took some painkillers, made some coffee, watched some crappy TV. He’d gotten very good at filling in time. Mainly because everything that could be considered vaguely productive had, at one time or another, been banned from taking place while Sam was out at work. It made time go slowly though, and it felt like an age before he heard the rattle of Sam’s key in their lock.

“How you feelindg?” Sam asked as soon as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes at the door.

Dean frowned as Sam came across to him on the couch. “God Sam, you look awful!”

And he did. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was swollen above and especially underneath his eyes and all across his top lip. He pressed a handful of crumpled tissues under his nose while it crinkled and twitched.

“HuhuhEITCHuh! AhISHtu! Yeah, thandks Deand. I love you too.” He turned away, bringing the tissue before his face again. “Ha-ISSHH! AhISSHH! HIT-CHA! CHAhisshu! HISHyew!”

Dean was already on his feet and on his way round the sofa to Sam. “God, Sam, why the hell are you so bad?”

“Because… hih…” He screwed up his nose and headed towards the bathroom. “HaISSH! HaISSH! HISSHHah!” There was a flush and Sam emerged unravelling a roll of toilet paper, while sneezing into the crook of his arm. “HuhtTCHyew! HahpTCHISSHu!”

Dean just stared at him, bewildered.

“Uh, dnormbally, they dondt gedt be to dusdt so mbudch cos they kndow idt s-uhh… idt sedts be off. HeEHSHU! HetTCHU!” Sam explained between sneezes, “Budt today we were shordt staffed so they didnd’t… HuhUHSHU! They didn’t have a lot of choice.” He blew his nose on the toilet roll. “You wandt sombethindg to eadt? HahHIHSSU!”

Dean stared, “The hell do I want something to eat. I want you to get your ass into the shower so you can stop fricking sneezing!”

“HehISSH! You combe first.”

“Why?”

“You’re sick. ISSH!”

“You’re allergic.”

“Doesnd’t matter.”

“So what, it’s fine for you to look after me but not the other way around?”

“TuhUSSHH!” Sam sniffed. “Yebp.”

“You’re such a hypocrite.”

Sam grinned. “Ndah, I jusdt love you... Uh… HuhHISSHU! Urgh! God, I hate my dnose sombetimbes.”

“Just get in the fricking shower! I’ll cook.”

Sam gave him a look.

“What is it, heating up mac and cheese? I think I can manage that.

“HISSHUH!” Sam shook his head. “I godt paid today.”

Interest sparks in Dean’s eye. “What does that mean?”

“HaISSHAH!” Sam sniffed. “I bought bacond.”

“Damn, I love you.” Dean wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck, but Sam pulled back, scrunching up his nose and sneezing over his shoulder. “HehtHIHSHyew! ISSHyew!”

“Shower!” Dean ordered. “I’ll make the bacon.”

Reluctantly, Sam obeyed, but he turned to look at Dean before disappearing into the bathroom. “Just… prombise be you’ll take it easy Deand.”

“It’s grilling bacon Sam, what the hell are you expecting to happen?”

But Sam didn’t drop his gaze.

“Alright, alright, I promise.”

“Good,” he sniffed and shut the bathroom door.

***

When he emerged out of the bathroom, he looked better, but still not great. His eyes were still puffy, his nose red, and he had a new bundle of tissue under his nose.

“Shower not work?” Dean looked up from where he was assembling bacon sandwiches on the kitchen surface.

“No, it did. I’m just all gross and drippy now.” He pouted. “Make it go away?”

“Will bacon help?” Dean held up Sam’s plate hopefully.

Sam blew his nose, grinning. “You bet. It looks great,” he told Dean.

It looked burnt, but it was nice of Sam to lie about it. Dean took his own plate and pulled out a chair from the table.

“You looked tired.” Sam observed, sitting opposite Dean.

“Someone makes me get up every morning to tell them my frigging temperature!”

“Oh please. You didn’t even ring until half eight today!”

“But if I had have been sleeping at half eight maybe I wouldn’t look so tired.”

Sam rolled his eyes and blew his nose. “Whaddya wanna do today then, lazybones? Back to the park?”

Dean wasn’t entirely sure why Sam continued to ask. Dean wanted to go to the park every day. They’d exercise, mostly run laps round the football pitch. It was odd, he’d never thought about keeping fit before, in their line of work it just kind of happened. But since he’d been out of action it had become like an obsession. He ran everyday, and kept a cheap set of weights I their room. It made him feel a little bit stronger, a little bit more like a hunter. Of course, exercise was another thing that had been banned while Sam was at work, although to be fair to Sam that was only after he’d passed out trying to do too much when Sam was away. Still, since then it was always his first choice for when Sam was around.

“Mmh hmn,” Dean answered, his mouth full of sandwich. “I want to do ten laps this time.”

***

Dean suspected that Sam was a little less fond of their trips to the park that he was. He spent the entire time craning his neck to check on Dean, offering water and cold flannels and not taking his eyes off him for a second, which was an impressive feat given it was early Spring and Sam could bearly breath outside, much less run laps.

"TiSHHHH! TISHHHH! HuhTISHHHhh! You uhh-huh... you okay back there? KhhhISHHyew!

“Sam it’s the first lap! I’m not going to pass out on the first lap!”

They made it to ten.

Sam clapped Dean on the shoulder. “ISHhhyew! HmmphISHhhyew! You... huhhh... You did awesombe,” he told him, sincerely.

Dean set his jaw. “I want to keep going.”

Sam dropped the pace of his run, looking his brother in the eye. “Are you sure? You godt idt ind you?”

Dean nodded and took a swig from the water bottle.

By the time they made it to fourteen Dean was really frigging tired. Sam slowed to a jog as they passed a park bench, but Dean shook his head. “One more.”

Sam was silent for a moment.

“I can do it, I promise.”

Sam grimaced. “HuhMnnpt! HuhMNNPT! Fuck!" He sniffed. "You’ll tell mbe the mbobment you start feelindg dizzy?”

“I promise.”

So round they went again, and Dean was amazed that Sam didn’t crash into anything the way he took the whole lap alternating between sneezing at the ground and watching Dean, eyes watery and arms braced to catch him if his legs gave way. This time when they neared the bench he wrapped his arm around Dean’s shoulders and guided him over.

“That’s definditely you duhhh-huhhh... donde for the day. HEH'Chhhshh! You’re gettindg pale.” He offered Dean the bottle of water.

Dean hunched over on the seat, elbows resting on his knees. He was shattered, but grinning.

“You really love this dond’t you?” Sam watched his brother with interest, curling his legs up under him on the bench.

Dean rubbed his fingers together. “Yeah I do. Sam, I think it’s time.”

“ISHHHuh! ISHHuh! Huh... CHISHhhyuh! Ugh, God." He shook his head to clear it and took a bundle of toilet paper from his pocket. "Timbe for what?”

“I wanna hunt again.”

[obsessed]

Oh me like!

[Zwee]

Ahhh, this is so good because it's like a cute little story with sneezing just mixed in...

I love it! I love worried, caretaking Sam who ignores his own health to make sure Dean's alright for the moment. It's literally like my favorite thing. (As you can probably tell from my story, Observant, haha.)

And naturally, your allergic Sam is perfect. Naturally.

I wish someone would bring me cold flannels when I go to the gym! Also, working-out brothers?? That's all kinds of hot, especially if they're in a park and Sam is sneezing constantly... I mean, jesus. You're just perfect!

Thank you ever so much! I love it.