Convention Madness (SPN RPF -Jensen, Jared)

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

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Oh, me likey. Me likey this alot. Let the torture of Heaven and Hell rain down upon the Angel Misha and Demon Mark

[luckyleprechaun]

“That’s awful,” Misha muttered, then stifled a massive yawn behind a fist.

“Dude, what’s that about? Why are you tired?” Jared wrinkled his brow.

“Uh,” he shrugged, “Just getting old, I guess.”

Jared laughed with him but then let his eyes become serious, “You’re not getting sick, are you?”

Misha looked confused for a second, “What? No. I’m not… I told you I’m immune to everything!

YES

YES

YES

This is perfection.

[HPG]

Jeannie was having a very difficult time doing his hair.

“You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?” she joked, patting his hair as he hung his head low, blowing his nose for the millionth time.

Omg, I could totally see him doing that purposely for a prank or something. It seems like his type of humor. Anyhow, this part was really good and I enjoyed it immensely.

[MissBayliss]

Things are getting heavy, guys...

PART 15

Jensen was pissed. He was pissed that he was sick. He was pissed that he could barely speak. He was pissed that he had eucalyptus drops shoved in his mouth throughout all the scenes to stop him coughing long enough to get the shot. He was pissed that Danneel and JJ had come to visit him and he couldn’t spend any time with them. He was pissed that he was being an inconvenience. He was pissed they’d had to take a break because of him. But most of all he was pissed that instead of a half hour break, they’d let him sleep for an hour and 45, blocked the scene with a body double and filmed the other guy’s coverage without him.

He knew they were trying to be nice, trying to be considerate, but that was just disrespectful. To Jensen, Jared and Misha. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they’d asked him first. He probably would have said no, and got up anyway to do it, but that was his decision to make.

He wasn’t particularly subtle at hiding the fact he was pissed either, considering he’d woken up, seen the time and legged it to set as quickly as possible. He was red faced and panting by the time he got there, bent over, hands on knees, holding himself up.

“What the fuck?” he complained, “Why didn’t you get me up?”

“You needed the rest, kid. We –“ Bob started to explain himself but Jensen held up a hand.

He coughed hard until his gag reflex kicked in, but managed to keep his lunch down.

“Case and point,” Bob threw his arms up.

Someone brought him a water bottle and made him sit down. Jensen grumbled. He was still pissed.

So, after much debating, that had Jensen as much out of breath as the short jog had left him, he was back on set with Jared and Misha. Mark was still in makeup and would be filming with them after this scene was over. It was taking longer than expected…

…

“Misha, buddy, you’re killing me here.”

Bob called cut and walked onto stage.

“Sorry, I don’t know what it is.”

“Can somebody get Misha a script? Take five guys, read over your lines,” he sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.

Jared swallowed, closing his eyes. This was a disaster. He was hoping Misha would have been able to carry them through the scene, but he was screwing up as much as they were. He was surprised Jensen had remembered all of his so far.

“I know we’ve been on this one for a while, I’m sorry,” Bob said, “But Misha, you and Jared have got to give me more. It’s bad enough I have to have Jensen sitting.”

“Bob, I’m good to…”

“No, Jensen, it’s not your fault,” Bob stopped him, “I can’t have you keeling over again, so stay put.”

Jared hated getting in trouble. It felt like he was a little kid again, and yeah, he should have been putting in more energy but that was kind of all he had. He felt so bad for Misha though, they’d put so much pressure on him.

“We’ll get you all some coffee, and we’ll go again. I appreciate what you’ve done so far,” Bob was trying to be nice, when he was really exhausted and probably frustrated with them. All the scenes they were shooting today had been blocked to have Jensen sitting down as much as possible. Jensen didn’t like to say but they could all tell he was starting to get wobbly on his feet again, his face flushed as his fever went up and up. Makeup was coming in every couple of takes to fix him up, and Jared. He’d been scolded more than once for rubbing his nose, making it even redder. Jared hadn’t spoken to Jensen much, or Misha really, they hadn’t had much time to chat considering how behind they were. Where they were usually slowing down production with pranks and jokes and general silliness, now they were slowing it down with coughs and sneezes and moments where they just couldn’t remember their lines.

Jared put a hand on Misha’s shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

Misha pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “I don’t know, man. I’m just really tired…”

“Headache?” Jared asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” his voice was definitely deeper, huskier… more ‘Cas’ like.

“We’ll get some coffee. You’ll be fine,” Jared patted his back and gave him a smile. God, he hoped so.

Jensen was coughing again, so Jared sat down at the table next to him.

“Sorry we didn’t get you before. Thought you could use the sleep…” Jared could do puppy dog eyes as well as Sam could.

Jensen shrugged.

“We didn’t – huh’SKSCHUuu! – We didn’t do any of… heh… Heh’SCHUUuu!”

Jensen pulled a tissue out of his pocket and handed it to Jared, smiling.

I forgive you, dude, written all over his face.

Jared took it gratefully and scrubbed his nose.

Jensen cleared his throat, “Wha-“ he paused because his voice didn’t come out, grabbed his water bottle and took a long sip. He tried again, but it was so quiet Jared had to lean in to hear him.

“What’s up with Misha?”

Jared shook his head, “Says he’s tired. He’s probably getting sick if you ask me. You seen Shep this morning?”

Jensen stared at him, I’ve been asleep for 2 hours, dude. How would I have seen him?

“Oh, sorry. I forgot,” Jared muttered, “I think he had a big night.”

Jensen shook his head, bit his lip. He looked down and pulled at a bit of loose thread on his shirt, mouth moving like he wanted to say something.

“Hey,” Jared tapped his shoulder, “Spit it out. What’s up?”

Jensen shook his head again, “I don’t –“ he cleared his throat, “My voice…” he pointed to his neck, wincing.

“Shit, Jensen…” Jared looked around, “Hey, can we get some tea or something?”

Jensen folded his arms across the table and lay his head down on them. Jared rubbed his back up and down.

“It’s alright, buddy. We’ll get you some tea…”

Jensen moaned, “No,” he breathed, sitting back up. He grabbed his phone out and went into a text message.

I don’t think I can speak

“What? What do you mean?”

No voice left

“No, man. It’ll be fine. We can take a break…”

Had too many breaks

“Dude…” Jared started but he didn’t really know how to finish it. Jensen’s voice had been dying throughout the day and whenever he tried now, he just got a rasp of air, that sounded like it scratched on his poor tonsils.

Jensen tapped Jared’s shoulder, and he looked at him. Really looked at him.

His face was pale this morning, but now it was flushed. His cheeks red, even redder around the eyes, that were tired, glazed and bloodshot. His face was a little sweaty but his neck was dripping, the collar of his shirt already soaked through. His nose glistened. The makeup tried to hide the peeling skin around his nose but it was rather unsuccessful. His adam’s apple moved up and down, as he tried to swallow and his blinked more than necessary, like he couldn’t really see properly. But more than that, it was the look Jensen was giving him. Pleading. Jensen would never ask for help, never ask for a break, even when he was sick. He never gave up. But his eyes right now were asking, begging Jared, please, make it stop. And that was it. Enough was enough.

“Somebody get Bob,” Jared called.

Misha strolled over, tucking his script away, “Is something wrong?”

“Jensen’s done.”

“What?” he asked, looking down at him.

“He’s done, man.”

It was confirmed when Jensen slowly lay his head back down on his arms, not even protesting.

Jared let his hand slide up and down Jensen’s back. He was warm, too warm.

…

Jensen woke up in his trailer. He couldn’t remember much of how he got there. He vaguely remembered Jared on one side, Misha on the other, and then… did he puke on Misha’s shoes?

He smacked his lips and rubbed his belly, yeah. Yeah, he puked on Misha.

“Ohhhh, gosh,” he groaned, rolling over.

His throat burned. His mouth tasted thick with infection, coppery and kind of salty. It was gross. His body ached, like he’d just done a nine hour fight scene kind of ache. His bones hurt, his skin hurt, his eyes hurt. And it was so damn hot.

He sluggishly pushed the blanket off, arms not moving with the precision he tried for. He struggled for his phone in his pocket and called Jared. It took him a while to even see the screen as his eyes were so blurry.

“Jensen? Everything okay?”

“What’s going on?”

“Dude, did you forget about your voice? I figure you want to know what’s going on… You’ve wrapped for the day. Bob’s done some rewrites, moved some things around. Don’t think you’ll be in this episode much anymore…”

“Are you…?”

“I’m okay. I’m feeling better. It’s Mark and I shooting a scene right now. He’s… he’s not so good. But he’s pushing through… He’s currently… puking in a trashcan. It’s fine, don’t get up.”

Jensen slid back down onto the bed.

“He’s not as bad as we were. Just… puking every now and then.”

“Misha?”

“Misha? He’s got a break. And, yes, you threw up on him,” he laughed, “It was pretty funny actually.”

Jensen sighed.

“Look, don’t worry, dude. Just sleep. Clif’ll take you home when you’re feeling a bit better. I just spoke to Danneel, she’s with JJ at Stanley Park. They’re having a great time… Relax. Get some rest.”

Jensen nodded, then realized Jared couldn’t see him. He heard him huff a little fond laugh though.

“We’re finishing up in a minute. I’ll come check on you… Bye, Jensen.”

Jensen shoved the phone back in his pocket and pushed himself to sit on the edge of the bed, panting, chest heaving. He needed to get up, needed to talk to someone. Damn, he needed to apologise to Misha.

“huh’KTSCHEWww! Heh’sSXHGUhh!”

Jensen slammed his eyes shut. Fuck, that was painful. He shook his head, steeled himself when the room spun and pushed to his feet.

He managed to make it to Misha’s trailer by some miracle, just putting one foot in front of the other. He knocked on the door and waited a minute, muffling a cough into his sleeve. He groaned in annoyance at the aching in his throat, and knocked again.

Misha opened the door in a swift motion and stepped back. Jensen took a double take on seeing his face.

"Whoa, Mish, you alright?" his voice stung but he managed to make a sound.

Misha stepped back, letting Jensen come in. The trailer smelt like puke and sweat.

"You okay, man? You're scaring me," he croaked.

Misha's eyes were vacant and glazed, and then in a moment Jensen witnessed all the colour drain from his face. He teetered where he was standing and luckily Jensen’s reflexes still seemed to be firing because he caught his dead weight before he hit the ground.

"Shit, shit, shit," Jensen muttered as he managed to lower Misha to the point where Jensen was basically kneeling on the ground, holding up his upper body, head limply swinging towards Jensen's chest.

"Can I get some help in here!" His attempted scream left him coughing into his shoulder, arms trembling trying to hold Misha up.

"Come on, buddy. I'm too sick for this, help me out,” he rasped.

Misha's eyes blinked open hazily.

"Mish! Misha, buddy. I need you to help me get you to the couch, okay? You have to help me out."

Every part of Jensen was shaking with fatigue, but at least the adrenaline had given him his voice back.

Misha's eyes darted around and he seemed to come around a bit more.

He nodded and breathed, "Okay."

Misha got up to standing with Jensen's help and they staggered together to the couch where Jensen lay Misha down.

"Just keep your head down, okay?" Jensen said, lifting Misha's legs onto the cushions.

Jensen pulled his phone out of his back pocket, fingers fumbling he dropped it and it clattered to the floor. His heart was pounding, it felt like it was going to leap out of his chest. He wiped the sweat off his brow, looked down at Misha who was sweating just as much.

"Shit," he whispered again, deciding to leave his phone on the ground, because that was just far too much effort, he walked a few steps and stuck his head out the door, flagging down a teamster that was walking passed.

Suddenly there were a couple of people running towards the trailer, including Jared.

He went back to Misha and put a hand on his head, "You're going to be alright, buddy," he said... and then he passed out.

…

Sorry for the cliffhanger... couldn't help myself

[NorthernLady]

Oh this continue to be an excellent read Here's my favorite bits :

Misha pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “I don’t know, man. I’m just really tired…”

“Headache?” Jared asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” his voice was definitely deeper, huskier… more ‘Cas’ like.

*Skwiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii*

Jensen woke up in his trailer. He couldn’t remember much of how he got there. He vaguely remembered Jared on one side, Misha on the other, and then… did he puke on Misha’s shoes?

He smacked his lips and rubbed his belly, yeah. Yeah, he puked on Misha.

“Ohhhh, gosh,” he groaned, rolling over.

SO much LOL

“Are you…?”

“I’m okay. I’m feeling better. It’s Mark and I shooting a scene right now. He’s… he’s not so good. But he’s pushing through… He’s currently… puking in a trashcan. It’s fine, don’t get up.”

Jensen slid back down onto the bed.

“He’s not as bad as we were. Just… puking every now and then.”

“Misha?”

“Misha? He’s got a break. And, yes, you threw up on him,” he laughed, “It was pretty funny actually.”

Again with the massive LOL That whole discussion was gold really!

"You okay, man? You're scaring me," he croaked.

Misha's eyes were vacant and glazed, and then in a moment Jensen witnessed all the colour drain from his face. He teetered where he was standing and luckily Jensen’s reflexes still seemed to be firing because he caught his dead weight before he hit the ground.

Misha has left the building! Sorry couldn't help myself Feverish and fainting Mish, this episode might need more rewrite for a sick or cursed angel. Unless nobody sais a word to Bob and they all continue pretending that everything's ok. Well at least Misha's gonna be able to pull his lines, if he remembers them

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

............So much Mmph! I can't even.....

Curse you for writing and bouncing my feels! Curse this story for making me cry, laugh, and angst! Curse evil cliffhangers!

guhhhh.......

[luckyleprechaun]

One of the best parts yet! Can't they have some luck… nah!

So, after much debating, that had Jensen as much out of breath as the short jog had left him, he was back on set with Jared and Misha. Mark was still in makeup and would be filming with them after this scene was over. It was taking longer than expected…

Heeeeeee…!!

Misha pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “I don’t know, man. I’m just really tired…”

“Headache?” Jared asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” his voice was definitely deeper, huskier… more ‘Cas’ like.

Oh… and he can't remember his lines… yes…

Jensen woke up in his trailer. He couldn’t remember much of how he got there. He vaguely remembered Jared on one side, Misha on the other, and then… did he puke on Misha’s shoes?

He smacked his lips and rubbed his belly, yeah. Yeah, he puked on Misha.

“Ohhhh, gosh,” he groaned, rolling over.

I was laughing at this for at least five minutes at this bit. OMG MISHA

“Are you…?”

“I’m okay. I’m feeling better. It’s Mark and I shooting a scene right now. He’s… he’s not so good. But he’s pushing through… He’s currently… puking in a trashcan. It’s fine, don’t get up.”

Jensen slid back down onto the bed.

Again with the massive laughing. OMG

Misha opened the door in a swift motion and stepped back. Jensen took a double take on seeing his face.

"Whoa, Mish, you alright?" his voice stung but he managed to make a sound.

Misha stepped back, letting Jensen come in. The trailer smelt like puke and sweat.

"You okay, man? You're scaring me," he croaked.

Misha's eyes were vacant and glazed, and then in a moment Jensen witnessed all the colour drain from his face. He teetered where he was standing and luckily Jensen’s reflexes still seemed to be firing because he caught his dead weight before he hit the ground.

"Shit, shit, shit," Jensen muttered as he managed to lower Misha to the point where Jensen was basically kneeling on the ground, holding up his upper body, head limply swinging towards Jensen's chest.

"Can I get some help in here!" His attempted scream left him coughing into his shoulder, arms trembling trying to hold Misha up.

"Come on, buddy. I'm too sick for this, help me out,” he rasped.

Oh, I have grown to love fainting… this gorgeous mental image…

[ID2006]

Omfg, can't breathe, need more

[MissBayliss]

Hehe, sorry to leave you hanging for so long! I've kind of lost some momentum so I'm trying to get it back. Here's another part in the meantime.

PART 16

Jared crashed into the trailer first, beating out the teamsters. He arrived just in time to see Jensen collapse. It was a controlled fall, like he wasn't completely unconscious, thank God.

"Jensen, Jensen," Jared dropped to his knees next to his friend, "Can you hear me?"

Jensen blinked owlishly, sat himself up a little.

"Misha," he pointed.

Jared turned to see Misha curled into the tiniest ball, shivering, covered in sweat.

"Shit," he cursed, "Get the medic!" he yelled to the teamsters.

He sat Jensen back against the wall, "You okay?"

Jensen nodded, trying to breathe more slowly.

Jared furrowed his brow, but left Jensen to go and check on Misha.

Misha's skin was burning. He was almost seizing he was shaking so hard. Jared wet a couple of towels he could find and put them over Misha, around the back of his neck and under his knees. He was so absorbed in trying to cool Misha down that he hadn't noticed Jensen coughing. It was white noise, but by the time he tuned in it had been going on a while.

"Jensen, you alright?" He turned his head towards Jensen, who was red faced, fisting his chest.

He made the 'okay' sign and swallowed with some effort.

Jared went back to removing Misha's shoes and socks.

One of the guys ran in, "What do you need me to do?" He asked Jared, who had clearly taken control of the situation, even if he was still on the mend himself.

"Get him some water," he pointed to Jensen.

He'd unbuttoned Misha's, well Castiel's, shirt, running the wet towels over his skin.

He mumbled something incoherently.

“Hey, Misha. Are you with me buddy?”

He groaned, and shivered again hard.

“Fuck, Misha. Why didn’t you tell someone you were this sick?” Jared ran a hand through his hair, basically just talking to himself.

Dan, one of the teamsters was helping Jensen take a sip of water, holding the glass to steady his hand as Jensen sloshed it all over himself.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he whispered, after swallowing a few mouthfuls.

The medic arrived and after some gentle coaxing they eventually had Misha resting semi-comfortably and Jensen off the floor. He’d made it a few steps before his knees buckled and they managed to walk him the rest of the way to a chair, where he was now leaning right back, head resting on the wall, washcloth over his eyes, breath sawing in and out.

“Guys?” A small scratchy voice came from the huddled lump on the couch.

Jared was up and in front of Misha in a flash.

“Hey, you okay? Do you need anything?”

“Why are you in my trailer?”

Jared laughed, “Because you’re a feverish fainting mess, that’s why.”

“Jensen?” Misha squinted over at Jensen, who hadn’t moved yet.

“Mmm,” he groaned, peeling the washcloth off one eye to look at Misha.

Misha looked back at Jared.

“He’s okay. I’m keeping an eye on him,” Jared said, picking up on Misha’s concern.

“Right here, guys,” Jensen croaked. Then he looked at Misha, “Sorry for…” he gestured to the man in front of him, seemingly apologizing for his current illness.

Misha smiled and closed his eyes, “Probably shouldn’t have licked your face, huh?”

Jared laughed and Jensen managed a tiny smile.

“Hey,” Misha said, looking down, “Which one of you undressed me?”

…

Jared took Misha’s temperature and it had come down a lot, and he was sweating pretty profusely. Good signs that his fever had broken. But, he needed him to drink or he’d get dehydrated pretty darn quick.

Misha was sitting up, half drunk water bottle in his hand, when Bob came in, followed by a few AD’s, and Clif.

Jensen was now sleeping, head down on the table, and hadn’t made a sound in a while, except for when he sniffled in his sleep.

Jared got up from where he was crouched in front of Misha to let them in.

“You boys are sure making this hard,” Bob greeted them with, “Misha, are you alright?”

“I’m great…”

“Whoa,” Jared put a hand up, “Let me remind you the way this sickness goes. Even if he feels better now, it’s going to get worse again. This is just the start… How’s Mark?”

“Mark’s just had the medic assess him. He’s got a mild fever, he’s okay to keep going.”

“Jared, seriously. If this is going to get worse, I may as well film all I can now.”

Jared sighed, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Bob shook his head, “I’m so sorry to make you do this. I know how awful you must feel. We’ve got the location tonight, so we have to film those scenes. We’ll give you a couple of hours to rest, while I do some rewrites. I’m email you the new script as soon as I can…” he paused as Jensen snuffled and turned his head in his sleep, “And for the love of God, someone get Jensen to his trailer.”

As Bob left, Clif moved in beside Jensen.

“Come on, big guy,” he coaxed, with a hand on Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen’s head snapped up, and he groggily rubbed the drool away from his mouth. Drool and snot.

“Oh, come on,” he rasped, sniffing thickly.

Jared handed him a bunch of tissues.

“Man, I wish I had got a photo of that,” Jared teased.

Jensen scowled from behind the tissues, and promptly emptied his sinuses.

“Huh’KKKSCHU! Heh’TSCXH! Heh… huh’SCXHU-uh!”

“Bless you,” Jared said, wincing at the look of pain on Jensen’s face.

“Hu’SCHU! ETXSCHEww!” Jensen gently blew his nose again and scrunched the tissues into his hand, “Fuck me…” Jared saw him say, even though he couldn’t hear it, because that last sneezing fit had cost him what was left of his voice.

“Alright, sneezy,” Clif said, “Can you get up, or do you need help?”

Jensen held a finger up, signaling to let him rest for a minute.

With everything going on with Jensen and Misha, and playing nurse and care-giver, Jared had almost forgotten that he felt unwell. It was strange how when someone needed you to be okay, magically you seemed to be. As he reflected on himself, which he really hadn’t had a chance to do a moment ago, he silently wished he hadn’t. Because now that Clif was here with Jensen, and Misha seemed to be doing better than he was when he’d first came in, he felt himself physically sag at the exhaustion weighing on him. The congestion, that was there but just hadn’t been bothering him, pressed on his sinuses and his head slowly pounded. Yes, he was feeling better, but he was still sick. Sick and tired.

When Jared looked up, Clif’s eyes were analyzing him, and he knew he’d seen the exhaustion wash over him.

“Alright, Bob’s giving you 2 hours. Make the most of it. Jared, go and get some sleep.”

“But, what about…”

“I’ve got it. I’m serious, you look like you’re about to drop.”

Jensen’s head came up at the mention of Jared not being well.

“Dude, calm down,” he sniffed, shaking his head at Jensen, “But, yeah, I think I’m going to have a nap, if you’re – “

“Jared, I’ve got it,” Clif slapped him on the back.

Jensen took that moment to try and get up. The chair almost toppled over as he stumbled on his feet, Clif reaching him quickly to keep him upright.

“Shit,” Jared cursed, “Let me help you with him. Misha, you alright for a few hours?”

Misha looked down at himself, clad in only suit pants and nothing else, “Where’m I gonna go?”

…

*So now Jensen is down and out and it's up to Jared, Misha and Mark to carry on through the night...

[NorthernLady]

“Shit,” Jared cursed, “Let me help you with him. Misha, you alright for a few hours?”

Misha looked down at himself, clad in only suit pants and nothing else, “Where’m I gonna go?”

Awwwwwww sickie Misha, Jensen's Dean peaking through and Jared forgetting that he's sick too.

Misha smiled and closed his eyes, “Probably shouldn’t have licked your face, huh?”

Jared laughed and Jensen managed a tiny smile.

“Hey,” Misha said, looking down, “Which one of you undressed me?”

This call back to the face licking and the undressing... Somebody outta make a Destiel joke in the next chapter... please

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

~*Carry on my watward sooooon, they'll be peace when you are doooone*~

I can't even find the appropriate words to describe how happy this made me

The only thing I can think of that would make this even more perfect, would be including Misha's allergies to tissues. The temptation must be done!

[MissBayliss]

I'm really getting mean lol prepare for more whumpage...

PART 17

For the second time that day, Jensen woke up in his trailer with no recollection as to how he got there. It was alarming to say the least. This time when he woke, he wasn't alone. Clif was sitting by his bed, smiling at his phone, big fingers typing slowly. Jensen's eyes drifted across the trailer, landing on a rather large moose shaped lump on his couch.

He closed his eyes again. He wanted to ask what was going on, how he got there, but his mind was too fuzzy. Not to mention he was having a hard enough time just breathing in and out. His nose was completely blocked, so he had to breathe through his mouth. The air was dry and stingy. The pain in his throat was worse than anything he'd ever experienced and it felt like he couldn't speak even if he tried, and he didn't want to try. His lungs and throat felt full of something and he knew he should probably swallow, clear his throat or cough, but he didn't want to mess up the delicate system he had going. His skin felt hot but prickled with goosebumps.

He maneuvered his tongue out of his mouth to wet his dry, cracked lips. Even that felt sluggish and took more energy than it should have.

When Clif still hadn't noticed he was awake, he lifted a heavy hand to swat at him.

Cliff caught the wayward limb, almost knocking the phone out of his hand.

"Whoa... Hey, man. How you feeling?"

Jensen met his eyes, trying to figure out which Clif was the real one.

"Okay, so not good," Clif put a hand across his brow and frowned, "You're a hot mess, do you know that? Literally."

Jensen shut his eyes and turned away from the intrusive hand.

"Come on, don't be a baby."

Jensen opened his eyes to glare at him, which only made Clif laugh.

"Dude, your Dean look doesn't work when you look this pathetic."

Jensen was getting pretty sick of the teasing without being able to defend himself. He tried to sit up, pushing up with his hands, but his whole body was shaking.

"Jensen, stay in bed," Clif's voice lost its playful tone so Jensen gave up and lay back down.

Jared snored loudly and snuffled from is spot on the couch.

Jensen raised his eyebrows.

"He didn't want to leave until he knew you were okay... but he kind of passed out waiting. He's been pushing a bit too hard, I think."

Yeah, no shit, Jensen thought.

Jensen wanted to ask about Misha. He remembered seeing him collapse and shaking, and then… some other stuff… half undressed and, no. That couldn't be right.

"You're wondering about Misha?"

Clif, you mind reader. I could kiss you.

Okay, he really needed to stop with the homoerotic thoughts. Damn fevers.

He blinked slowly and nodded.

"He's fine. He's going back to filming with Jared and Mark in about an hour. We're just waiting though. We know you and Jared spiked a fever first, couldn't stop puking, and then all this happened, with the cough and the sneezing and the," he gestured to Jensen, "tonsillitis... I'd say we're in for a rough week with this one."

Jensen closed his eyes, exhausted from processing his long answer.

He reached out and tapped Clif again.

"What?"

Jensen mouthed "Danneel" hoping he'd understand.

"Oh! The girls are fine. They've gone to dinner, I'm going to pick them up soon and take your ass home at the same time. Once I'm sure you won't puke in my car."

Jensen took a deep breath and that was it, he’d messed up the system.

Clif sat him up as he coughed, holding a hand against his back.

"Jensen?" Jared sounded terrible, completely stuffed up and croaky.

Jensen waved a hand as Clif helped him lie back.

Jared was rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Jesus," he groaned, then cleared his throat loudly, "Are you alright?"

Jensen gave a sarcastic thumbs-up.

Jared got up, leaning on the wall, "I think I'm gonna go get some sleep," he yawned.

"Want me to walk you?" Clif asked, tentative look on his face like he wasn't convinced he wouldn't topple over.

"Nah, I'm good. Stay here. I'm good," he said again, bundling his coat on and searching the pockets for a tissue.

"Alright, well, I'm taking Jensen home soon. Then I'll be back to drive you to set."

"Good," Jared nodded at Jensen, “Shit,” he mumbled, still searching through his pockets.

Clif handed him the box of tissues that were sitting at Jensen’s side.

He grabbed a bunch and turned away, “ETSCHU! ATXCHU’uh!”

The sneezes were loud and forceful, echoing off the walls of the trailer. Jensen cringed in sympathy.

Jared cleared his throat and threw the tissues away.

“Bless you,” Clif said, studying him.

Jared sniffed again and tucked some more tissues in his pockets.

“Thanks,” he stepped closer to Jensen, “Get home and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow. Feel better,” he gave one final squeeze of his shoulder.

Jensen nodded, you too.

…

Misha arrived at the location set with Mark. They’d been driven together and Jared was still waiting for Clif to drop Jensen off. It was a good 45 minute drive, so at least they’d got to nap some more. If Misha said he was fine, he was lying, but hey, so was everyone else so he didn’t see the big deal. He knew how sneezy and congested Jensen and Jared were. He’d seen them coughing up their lungs, with wet long hacks, blowing their nose, sneezing their heads off. He could hear it in their voices, in their breath, and he knew it was only a matter of time.

Mark had already started with the dry cough. It was a slippery slope. He hadn’t been able to place why he felt so off that morning, but it was more just confused and dizzy. He’d had a headache, and taken some Tylenol, but it didn’t help him focus. He was annoyed at himself for forgetting his lines. Take after take he had to watch Jensen sit there deteriorating, slumping further and further into the table, until he’d called it quits. He didn’t blame the guy. If it wasn’t him messing up a take, it was Jensen turning away to cough up mucus or stifling sneezes into Dean’s sleeve. His voice had gotten quieter and quieter until it was just a whisper. “Jensen, we’re having trouble with sound. You’re going to need to be a bit louder,” Bob had called from his director’s chair. Jensen sighed outwardly. It wasn’t his fault.

Anyway, Misha was happy that Jensen had thrown in the towel. No one wanted him pushing himself past breaking, but now it meant he would be in more scenes. Having Sam Winchester drag Castiel along with him and leaving Dean home sick, for a big alleyway fight scene. The actual storyline hadn’t been changed much, they’d simply replaced Dean with Cas and switched up the dialog. ‘Cause who could imagine Cas saying, “You are one fugly son o’ a bitch”?

Mark coughed beside him and Misha looked over. He was pale and had been significantly quieter than usual.

“Can’t believe this,” Mark complained as he rubbed his forehead.

“What?” Jeez, no need to work on the Cas voice tonight. He was already sounding like an angel of the Lord.

“How did I get sick? How did I get sick?!” he griped, pulling his jacket closer as he shivered.

Misha just looked out his window as they pulled up. He had nothing really to say to that.

“You’re the one who was snuggling up with him,” Mark went on, punctuating his sentence with a cough.

“I think neither of our strategies worked very well,” Misha sighed.

The car pulled up and they wearily dragged themselves out into the cold.

“Jesus, it’s freezing,” Mark shuddered.

The cold air made Misha cough. It was surprisingly phlegmy and made his head pound. How he was going to keep going till 2am, he had no idea.

…

Misha checked his watch. Midnight. They’d stopped to move the cameras again. Things had been… bumpy. The cold night air was not doing anyone any favours. Jared’s nose ran mercilessly. They were hard pressed to get a full take out of him before it started running all over his face. Apparently that had made it even more difficult not to sneeze, as he was doing that about every two minutes. Sometimes once, sometimes fits of up to seven. If the poor guy’s nose had been red when they started the day, it was even worse now, and the cold had given his cheeks a rosy flush as well. He was, as expected, ridiculously apologetic about it.

Misha didn’t really have the energy to care. He was exhausted and breathless just watching Jared blow his nose over and over.

Mark spent every other minute complaining about his ailment, but as soon as the camera was rolling, he was Crowley. Misha, Jared, everyone, was astounded by his professionalism and dedication. They still had a bucket on set, just beside the camera, which Mark had used twice and Misha had come close to using once. There’d been times where a lot of them had been sick before. They worked so closely together that it was inevitable. This though, was a particularly bad one. Misha wasn’t the sickest he’d been. The leviathan scene had been the worst, and this was close but not quite as bad. He remembered standing there, black ooze dripping down his chin and the mournful expression on Jensen’s face as he stared up at him.

“That’s it guys. We’re going home.”

Jensen had stood up and put his foot down, all for Misha. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever done for him. Of all the jokes and pranks and general tomfoolery, he knew they had his back. He knew they really cared.

There was a wet sniff by his ear and a warm, damp puff of air on his neck.

“Hey, are you okay?” A cloud of smoke billowed out of Jared’s mouth as he spoke, letting them know how truly cold it was.

Misha turned his head slightly, any more movement would send stabbing pain through his already throbbing head, “Yeah, you?”

Jared sniffed again, dragging his sleeve under his nose, “I’m awful. And you’re a liar,” he rasped.

Misha pulled a hand up to rub at his temples.

“Come on, let’s sit down,” Jared hit him gently with the back of his hand.

Misha followed Jared to the chairs and slumped down.

“Where’s Mark?” he asked.

“They’re using him for blocking,” Jared croaked, clearing his throat and sniffing loudly again.

Misha nodded, quite content to sit there for the rest of the night and never move again. Then he noticed Jared shuffling beside his, scrubbing at his nose and he knew, by the way the night had been going what was about to happen. After hours of listening to it he knew the signs, and Jared was gearing up for a massive sneezing fit.

“Sh-shit,” he gasped, hastily rummaging in his pockets.

He gave up, having exhausted his source of tissues a while ago and buried his face in his elbow.

“Huh’eh…uh’KSCHXUuuu!” he sniffed, “Heh’KSSHHEWww! Urrghh… I ca – can’t… KKXTSHHUuuh! Mish – sha…”

He kept his head buried in his elbow, other arm reaching out and gripping Misha’s trench coat. Desperate.

“I need ahh – a tissSCHUuu! Huh’PSKCHUuu! Gahhh…”

“Hang on,” Misha looked around. He was too tired to run and find him some, his throat hurt too much to yell out. Luckily a PA wasn’t too far.

“Hey! Can you grab us some tissues please? Like… pronto.”

Jared was still gripping his shirt, gasping, trying to get a breath.

“Huh… uh.. Heh’TSHCHOOoo! Huh’schkewwww – uh…”

“Okay, okay, hey…”

Jared was slumping forward. Misha wrangled him back into the chair, his arm still wrapped around his face, grip getting weaker around a wad of the trench coat.

The PA came back with a box full of tissues.

“Here,” Misha pulled four from the box and shoved them into Jared’s hand, “Clean yourself up. Just… take a breath.”

Jared’s eyes were red and bleary. He lazily wiped at his sleeve with the new tissues, then pressed them to his face.

“Het’schhew! Huh’kxchuuu! Oh my god…”

“Still not done?” Misha leaned back in his chair.

“I think – ssnnnfffth – I think I’m done,” Jared coughed for a solid thirty seconds, bringing up all sorts of crap.

“You sound gross,” Misha said before he could stop himself.

Jared’s eyes came up, red and watery, but half lidded and annoyed.

“Thanks, dude,” he groaned.

Misha shivered in the wind, closing his eyes for a second.

“You need some more coffee?” Jared asked, nudging him.

“I need a nap…”

“Yeah, you need coffee… Hey, can we please – yeah, that’d be great…”

Jared was conversing with the PA again, Misha’s eyes were still closed and he rubbed his forehead again.

Jared coughed, “Two more hours, dude. Two more hours…”

Misha didn’t really care how long they had left. Any amount of time was too long.

…

[NorthernLady]

Misha didn’t really care how long they had left. Any amount of time was too long.

Awwww poor sick MIsha! Well poor sick everybody but everyone knows I'm a Cas girl so I'm indulging myself

I really, really love the fact that they're trying really hard to finish the episode and work around any symptoms that they have. Jared's sneezing fits are spectacular. Mark being grumpy and whining about being sick.... that was perfect Mark And Misha having Cas's voice.... oh....em... gee Can't shake the idea that his state is maybe worsening... that irrepressible need to nap can't be good....

I'd be very curious to see a little bit of the scene they are recording with the remaining boys and how that's going... I don't know if you're inspired to give us a little bit of that?

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

"Come on, don't be a baby."

Jensen opened his eyes to glare at him, which only made Clif laugh.

"Dude, your Dean look doesn't work when you look this pathetic."

loving this!!!

Jensen wanted to ask about Misha. He remembered seeing him collapse and shaking, and then… some other stuff… half undressed and, no. That couldn't be right.

"You're wondering about Misha?"

Clif, you mind reader. I could kiss you.

Okay, he really needed to stop with the homoerotic thoughts. Damn fevers.

oh please do kiss him! Everyone gets sick. Mwahahahaha~

[NorthernLady]

Jensen wanted to ask about Misha. He remembered seeing him collapse and shaking, and then… some other stuff… half undressed and, no. That couldn't be right.

"You're wondering about Misha?"

Clif, you mind reader. I could kiss you.

Okay, he really needed to stop with the homoerotic thoughts. Damn fevers.

oh please do kiss him! Everyone gets sick. Mwahahahaha~

You know, I was wondering why Cliff wasn't sick yet... I mean, he's been babysitting them for the whole ordeal and hasn't sniffled once. Not that I want him to (somebody gotta take care of the boys) but, it'll have to be addressed sometime... Oh, oh.... he's probably a closet germaphobe and rubbing that alcohol thing on his hands every times the boys aren't looking at him

I can see it now.... he turns his back, rub that stuff in when no one's looking... when he turns back, the smell makes Jared (Or Misha or Mark) sneeze... Oh lord! There goes my brain....

[luckyleprechaun]

Misha checked his watch. Midnight. They’d stopped to move the cameras again. Things had been… bumpy. The cold night air was not doing anyone any favours. Jared’s nose ran mercilessly. They were hard pressed to get a full take out of him before it started running all over his face. Apparently that had made it even more difficult not to sneeze, as he was doing that about every two minutes. Sometimes once, sometimes fits of up to seven. If the poor guy’s nose had been red when they started the day, it was even worse now, and the cold had given his cheeks a rosy flush as well. He was, as expected, ridiculously apologetic about it.

Misha didn’t really have the energy to care. He was exhausted and breathless just watching Jared blow his nose over and over.

JARED.

BABY.

These images are making me… so happy. Perfect mental pictures.

Then he noticed Jared shuffling beside his, scrubbing at his nose and he knew, by the way the night had been going what was about to happen. After hours of listening to it he knew the signs, and Jared was gearing up for a massive sneezing fit.

“Sh-shit,” he gasped, hastily rummaging in his pockets.

He gave up, having exhausted his source of tissues a while ago and buried his face in his elbow.

“Huh’eh…uh’KSCHXUuuu!” he sniffed, “Heh’KSSHHEWww! Urrghh… I ca – can’t… KKXTSHHUuuh! Mish – sha…”

He kept his head buried in his elbow, other arm reaching out and gripping Misha’s trench coat. Desperate.

“I need ahh – a tissSCHUuu! Huh’PSKCHUuu! Gahhh…”

“Hang on,” Misha looked around. He was too tired to run and find him some, his throat hurt too much to yell out. Luckily a PA wasn’t too far.

“Hey! Can you grab us some tissues please? Like… pronto.”

Jared was still gripping his shirt, gasping, trying to get a breath.

“Huh… uh.. Heh’TSHCHOOoo! Huh’schkewwww – uh…”

“Okay, okay, hey…”

Jared was slumping forward. Misha wrangled him back into the chair, his arm still wrapped around his face, grip getting weaker around a wad of the trench coat.

The PA came back with a box full of tissues.

“Here,” Misha pulled four from the box and shoved them into Jared’s hand, “Clean yourself up. Just… take a breath.”

Jared’s eyes were red and bleary. He lazily wiped at his sleeve with the new tissues, then pressed them to his face.

“Het’schhew! Huh’kxchuuu! Oh my god…”

“Still not done?” Misha leaned back in his chair.

“I think – ssnnnfffth – I think I’m done,” Jared coughed for a solid thirty seconds, bringing up all sorts of crap.

THIS SNEEZING FIT.

MY GOD.

He's gripping the trench coat…

Misha's also going downhill…

Jensen's just awful…

Mark's complaining…

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THESE UPDATES MAKE ME.

[ID2006]

So nice to see more of this

[NorthernLady]

Posted 20 July 2015 - 08:33 AM

I'm really getting mean lol prepare for more whumpage...

I'm ready MissBayliss... do your WORSE (please just don't kill anyone!!!!)

[MissBayliss]

Some notes to start: A couple of you have mentioned Clif. Basically, I just need him to be well for the purpose of the story, and I know in real life he'd probably be the first one to get sick after J2, but I like him as their caregiver and looking after them. So, there's not going to be any mention of that really, as of yet.

Secondly, life is a little busy right now. So, I'm going to try and get updates posted as quickly as I can, but they might be a little further apart than I would like to post. Bear with me, please.

Thirdly, thank you for your continued support with this fic and all the fics I've posted on here. It's like the best thing ever coming on and reading your comments. And I'm STILL going back and reading comments from things I posted a year ago, and just feeling so amazed and thankful every time.

Y'all are awesome.

Here's the next part. It's a little shorter, but I wanted to give you something. (I'm also finding it difficult to juggle so many sick people in a story but I'm trying to satisfy everyone's preferences And don't worry, they will all enter stage 4...)

PART 18

Sam turned to cough into his fist. He groaned and Castiel narrowed his eyes at him.

"You seem... upset."

"Yeah, no kidding I'm upset. First of all Dean was the one who insisted we take this case, even though he's been going crazy with the mark of Cain lately. I know he's not sleeping, because every time he actually does he wakes me up screaming and crying out..." Sam sighed and rubbed his head, "Then he goes and gets sick, and still, after everything, insists we do this job."

"But Dean's not here..." Castiel said, finishing Sam's thought for him.

"No," Sam sighed again and let out another cough, "No, he's not."

"Sam, if Dean's so sick maybe we should..."

"It's just a human illness, Cas. He'll get over it."

Cas cocked his head, "and what about you, Sam? How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," he groaned, "but I'll live. Let's just finish this and -"

"Hello, moose. Feathers."

"Son of a bitch," Sam cursed, turning to look at Crowley who had appeared behind them.

"Oo, watch your language, Sam. You're starting to sound like Dean. Speaking of Dean, where is the little squirrel?"

"He's... home sick."

"Princess get the sniffles?"

"What do you want, Crowley?" Sam snapped.

"Alright, alright. It's all business with you, isn't it? Fine. I need you to help me with a little problem."

"Look, we're a little busy right now..."

"Sam!" Cas yelled, as the creature approached Sam out of the darkness.

"Cut!"

Jared bent forward with a sneeze, having managed to slave off the urge long enough to make it through a full take.

"Good work, guys. That was great. Think you can do a couple more like that?"

Jared sniffled and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Bob shuffled on his feet, "Okay, reset. Let's reset."

Beth, the PA, came in with styrofoam cups of honey tea for them all.

Jared wrapped his hands around the cup, trying to suck in as much warmth as he could. His voice had been thick with congestion and husky as he started to lose it. He sipped at the tea and relished the warm liquid cascading down his throat.

Misha's voice had been breaking every other line. He gulped his tea and stared sadly at the ground.

Mark reeled away from the cup as Beth offered it, visibly gagging. Apparently even the smell was too much for him.

"No thanks, I - no, thanks," Mark stuttered, gripping his stomach.

Jared furrowed his brow looking at his cast mates. Misha was entering stage 3 of the sickness now, which was the congested lungs and wet cough. Jared shuddered as he remembered it hitting him too. After stage 1: high fever, and stage 2: nausea, you were already weak and depleted, giving way to stage 3. Jared wanted to be done here before Misha entered stage 4, which was where Jared was still hanging around, tissue pressed to his face and sneezing pretty much endlessly.

He'd noticed Mark start to sniffle occasionally too, which was not a good sign.

"Hey, Bob. I think we got it," Jared bundled the tissue into his hand, blinking blearily at the director.

"Well, that was really good, Jared, but we need to get a couple more."

"No, Bob... We got it. I think we should stop," Jared felt like such a rebel talking to his director like this, but it had been a long, hard night and he was tired and grumpy and sick, and he wanted to go home.

Bob looked at the boys, just as Mark dived for the puke bucket. He sighed.

"Yeah, you're right. Shit. You guys go get some sleep. We need you better by tomorrow."

"Thanks, Bob," Mark groaned from where his head was buried in the bucket.

“That’s a wrap, everyone,” Bob rubbed a hand through his hair.

Jared smiled weakly and went and put a hand on Mark's back.

"Come on, Shep. Let's go home."

Jared walked with an arm around Misha's shoulders and the other rubbing calming circles on the back of Mark's neck.

"We did it," he said, smiling.

Misha and Mark both glared at him.

He squeezed them tighter.

…

It was almost 2am when Jared made it through the front door. He had to be up at 7 again. Great. He kind of envied Jensen a little, who’d been home with his wife and daughter for hours, and been able to sleep half the day on top of that. But then he thought back to how sick he’d been and all he did was worry. He couldn’t call him, it was too late. He couldn’t call Danneel, she’d be asleep too. He thought about calling Misha, just to see how he was doing, but felt a little silly. He’d seen him not an hour ago and the poor guy probably just wanted to sleep.

He flopped onto his bed, sniffling, pulling the covers over him and burrowing down. He sent Gen a text saying ‘I love you’, then said a quick prayer that he’d feel better tomorrow. Bob was not going to let them get away with it two days in a row…

…

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

I swear this just keeps getting better and better. I can't get enough of this!

[NorthernLady]

"Sam!" Cas yelled, as the creature approached Sam out of the darkness.

Ohhhh you gave us a little bit of the show I loved Cas's lines and Crowley' snarks. And how exausted you made them to be at the end. Can't wait to read more about how everyone spent their night... probably not sleeping as good as they should

Oh and I almost forgot to ask... what creature was that? You meant Crowley?

[luckyleprechaun]

Sam turned to cough into his fist. He groaned and Castiel narrowed his eyes at him.

"You seem... upset."

"Yeah, no kidding I'm upset. First of all Dean was the one who insisted we take this case, even though he's been going crazy with the mark of Cain lately. I know he's not sleeping, because every time he actually does he wakes me up screaming and crying out..." Sam sighed and rubbed his head, "Then he goes and gets sick, and still, after everything, insists we do this job."

"But Dean's not here..." Castiel said, finishing Sam's thought for him.

"No," Sam sighed again and let out another cough, "No, he's not."

"Sam, if Dean's so sick maybe we should..."

"It's just a human illness, Cas. He'll get over it."

Cas cocked his head, "and what about you, Sam? How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," he groaned, "but I'll live. Let's just finish this and -"

"Hello, moose. Feathers."

"Son of a bitch," Sam cursed, turning to look at Crowley who had appeared behind them.

"Oo, watch your language, Sam. You're starting to sound like Dean. Speaking of Dean, where is the little squirrel?"

"He's... home sick."

"Princess get the sniffles?"

"What do you want, Crowley?" Sam snapped.

"Alright, alright. It's all business with you, isn't it? Fine. I need you to help me with a little problem."

"Look, we're a little busy right now..."

"Sam!" Cas yelled, as the creature approached Sam out of the darkness.

WHY IS THIS NOT REAL?!?

(Sorry, crazy caps lock)

Jared wanted to be done here before Misha entered stage 4, which was where Jared was still hanging around, tissue pressed to his face and sneezing pretty much endlessly.

And don't worry, they will all enter stage 4...)

*squee*

[NorthernLady]

MissBayliss, on 31 Jul 2015 - 08:13 AM, said:
Jared wanted to be done here before Misha entered stage 4, which was where Jared was still hanging around, tissue pressed to his face and sneezing pretty much endlessly.
MissBayliss, on 31 Jul 2015 - 08:13 AM, said:
And don't worry, they will all enter stage 4...)

*squee*

Yeah, double *squee*

[ID2006]

Crowley's lines, so amazingly spot on.

[MissBayliss]

"Sam!" Cas yelled, as the creature approached Sam out of the darkness.

Ohhhh you gave us a little bit of the show I loved Cas's lines and Crowley' snarks. And how exausted you made them to be at the end. Can't wait to read more about how everyone spent their night... probably not sleeping as good as they should

Oh and I almost forgot to ask... what creature was that? You meant Crowley?

No, I meant another creature, whatever they were hunting in the alley. Maybe another demon. Not sure haha I didn't want to get into the logistics of the episode too much and just focus on the boys and their sickness lol Glad you're enjoying it! I put that little bit of the show in there for you

Sam turned to cough into his fist. He groaned and Castiel narrowed his eyes at him.

"You seem... upset."

"Yeah, no kidding I'm upset. First of all Dean was the one who insisted we take this case, even though he's been going crazy with the mark of Cain lately. I know he's not sleeping, because every time he actually does he wakes me up screaming and crying out..." Sam sighed and rubbed his head, "Then he goes and gets sick, and still, after everything, insists we do this job."

"But Dean's not here..." Castiel said, finishing Sam's thought for him.

"No," Sam sighed again and let out another cough, "No, he's not."

"Sam, if Dean's so sick maybe we should..."

"It's just a human illness, Cas. He'll get over it."

Cas cocked his head, "and what about you, Sam? How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," he groaned, "but I'll live. Let's just finish this and -"

"Hello, moose. Feathers."

"Son of a bitch," Sam cursed, turning to look at Crowley who had appeared behind them.

"Oo, watch your language, Sam. You're starting to sound like Dean. Speaking of Dean, where is the little squirrel?"

"He's... home sick."

"Princess get the sniffles?"

"What do you want, Crowley?" Sam snapped.

"Alright, alright. It's all business with you, isn't it? Fine. I need you to help me with a little problem."

"Look, we're a little busy right now..."

"Sam!" Cas yelled, as the creature approached Sam out of the darkness.

WHY IS THIS NOT REAL?!?

(Sorry, crazy caps lock)

Jared wanted to be done here before Misha entered stage 4, which was where Jared was still hanging around, tissue pressed to his face and sneezing pretty much endlessly.

And don't worry, they will all enter stage 4...)

*squee*

Haha, I know right! I would die if there was an actual episode like this. The Dean cat allergy thing almost got me haha

Glad you're enjoying it! They will enter stage 4 soon mwuhahahaha

Crowley's lines, so amazingly spot on.

Thanks! Haha I haven't written Crowley before I don't think but he's fun to write for

And guys! This fic has over 10,000 views! Get out of town! I'm very happy and love you all