The Sounds Of Sickness (SPN, Dean and Sam)

[Wolfwings22]

I’ve been going back to some of my Supernatural writings and it’ll always be one of my favorite fandoms, so I thought I would share some of the things I’ve been working on. I hope you guys enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

I like the idea of Sam and Dean being stuck in the car, Dean with a horrible/extremely messy cold, and having just ran out of tissues. So now he has to find a way to contain his explosively messy sneezes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    There were few things that Sam found annoying. Sure, people grinding their teeth or slurping milkshakes through straws weren't his favorite things to listen to, but he could tolerate them if he had to. No, there was truly only one thing that really annoyed Sam Winchester more than anything else.....

 

    That would be Dean when he had a cold.

 

    To be fair, the normal parts of a cold didn't bother him when it came to other people. He wasn't around them long enough to be bothered by it. The fact that he was trapped with his big brother day after day in either seedy motels or the Impala made everything Dean did when sick ten times more annoying.

 

    Dean would have prolonged coughing fits until he gagged, which would send Sam's stomach churning. He would cough up thick globs of green phlegm that stuck to the back of his throat or in his infected lungs. His sneezing was louder than a gunshot and seemed to strike at the most quiet times when everyone else would be least expecting it. Sam knew that Dean couldn't help it, but it didn't make it any less infuriating. The sniffling was bothersome too. Dean didn't always see the point in blowing his nose and would instead sniffle every couple seconds to force the moisture back into his nostrils and stop it from dripping from his face. When Dean finally did blow his nose, it was always with a trumpeting honk that seemed louder than necessary in Sam's eyes. Dean would always groan afterwards, eyes narrowed and face screwed up in an obvious scowl of discomfort. All of those things got under Sam's skin but the worst was always Dean's snorting.

 

    Although that wasn't one of the more common sounds associated with a cold, it was when dealing with Dean. He often would swallow back globs of grossness into the back of his sinuses and down his throat. It sounded like a soft gurgle combined with a cough if Dean pulled enough back. The thought disgusted Sam more than anything else since he knew that it often caused more harm than good. Sure, snorting it back like that could help in minute situations when tissues were not available, but it could also lead to a sinus infection, which they did not have time to deal with.

 

    Huh'HrchsSH! Huh'RHchsSH!"

 

    There went Dean's gunshot of a sneeze. His head snapped down against his chest and back of his wrist pressed against his twitching nostrils admittedly a second too late. That was Dean's MO not to realize they were upon him and not even try and cover with anything other than a sleeve or hand, if he even went that far. That was another thing that drove Sam up a wall. Dean was very unsanitary and would often not use tissues and would instead use his hands or sleeves if they were easier and more accessible. He was also known to bring the collar of his shirt over his nose and direct wet, explosive sneezes into the too thin material until it became damp and useless. That was a little more tolerable in Sam's mind, but still pretty gross.

 

    "Do you have to do that in the car when I'm less than a foot away from you," Sam complained, frowning over at Dean as he continued to rub at his flooding nose.

 

    Dean crinkled his nose in distain. "Ad whadt ab I supposed to do, Sabby?"

 

    Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes. Dean's stuffy talk was a staple of any cold and Sam had no trouble deciphering what he said.

 

    "Uh, there should be dinner napkins somewhere here, or a bandana, or really anything that isn't your hand."

 

    Dean looked down almost bashfully at his wrist before rubbing it harshly against his jeans to dry it. "Cand't helb id, Sabby."

 

    "I think you can. You just choose not to."

 

    A fire of anger lit in Dean's eyes. Any illness automatically forced him on edge and made anything that was said spark an immediate reaction. "I'b sick."

 

    "Yeah, I've noticed." Sam let out a deep breath to stop himself from snapping at his already irritated brother. "I know that you're sick, but that doesn't give you a free pass to become a walking Petrie dish."

 

    Dean gave a hefty snort to force the remnants of his last sneeze back deeper into his sinuses.

 

    "Dean, cut that out! You're going to get a sinus infection at his rate and I can't deal with your grossness for another 3 weeks," Sam shouted.

 

    Dean's eyes widened for a moment, embarrassment showing on his features for a split second. It disappeared just as quickly as it arrived, leaving a frustrated and moody Dean in it's wake. The low grade fever that he was sporting wasn't helping matters, nor was his body aches. Dean without illness was barely tolerable at some points; Dean with a cold was insufferable.

 

    "Didnd't realize thadt I grossed you oudt. I'll bake sure dnot to say adythig undil we reach Idaho." Dean furiously turned on his side in the passenger seat, almost hugging the door. He turned his back to Sam and scooted as far as he could go so that Sam couldn't reach out and touch him. His shoulders slumped and the only sound that could be heard from him was a few frantic sniffles.

 

    Sam swallowed a groan. He hadn't meant to snap at Dean when he was feeling crappy. Sickness had always hit Dean hard and he never wanted to admit it. Sam could often coast through colds of his own it if he rested and took medicine every six hours. Dean rarely did those things, and would often push himself to the brink of total exhaustion. There were a few hunts that Sam could remember having to take Dean to the hospital afterwards because they had hunted a werewolf in a freezing forest when Dean had bronchitis that turned into pneumonia. Sam didn't want his brother to be uncomfortable any longer than he had to be. His concern often didn't come across as concern and he feared he had worded everything all wrong. He had to treat lightly when dealing with a sick Dean. It was almost like dealing with an angsty teenager.

 

    "Dean, c'mon man. I didn't mean it," Sam began, attempting to break the silence and be the bigger person. After all, this disagreement had been 90% his fault.

 

    Dean didn't answer.

 

    Sam tightened his grip on the steering wheel and adjusted his position on the seat. "Are we seriously doing the silent treatment? We're a little old for that, don't you think?"

 

    Dean still didn't answer.

 

    "C'mon, Dean. You can't stay silent the entire time you're with me," complained Sam with a roll of his eyes. This was becoming infuriating like an itch that Sam couldn't scratch. They had a four hour drive ahead of them and Sam couldn't drive in complete silence. Luckily, it wasn't long before the effects of Dean's cold had him sniffing and snorting uncontrollably once again.

 

    A sudden intake of air from Dean had Sam turning to look out of the corner of his eye. Dean's shoulders lifted before he pitched forward, entire body jolting with the effort. "Huh'HrchsHS! Huh'rChsHS! Huh'HrCHSshSH!"

 

    "Bless—"

 

    Dean held up one finger vaguely in Sam's general direction. Sam gritted his teeth together impatiently, imaging the cloud of germs that were probably floating around and infecting the entire Impala. If Sam had a prayer of not catching this from his brother, he needed to either put some real distance between them and find something for Dean to sneeze into. Although, Sam wasn't even sure if Dean would care one way or another.

 

    "Huh'HrcHSSH! Huh'HchrSHsSH! Huh'HrchsHsSH!"

 

    "Bless you, Dean." Sam allowed the hostility from earlier to roll off his shoulders. Getting angry at Dean for this—even for something that he could actually help—wasn't going to get them anywhere. "Dean, you okay?"

 

    Dean pivoted straightforward with his head still buried in the crook of his raised elbow. His eyes blinked quickly and he regarded Sam with an almost panicked expression. His nose continued to twitch, but he didn't dare lower his arm. Snorting back the congestion was one thing, but it didn't seem to be an option for Dean at the moment.

 

    "Dean?"

 

    "Uh, godt ady tissues, Sabby?"

 

    "Oh, now you ask?" Sam bit back the remark and raised his knees to the steering wheel while he reached around to see what he could find. He came up on a couple old maps that were outdated and some wrappers from burgers Dean had ate on his shift driving, but no tissues or anymore napkins.

 

    "Huh'HrchsSH! Huh'HrchsSH! Huh'HrhcSHsSH! Ugh, Sab!"

 

    Dean's frantic call wasn't helping the situation. Sam set his jaw in determination and began to take the Impala onto a break on the dirt road and pulled over to the side. He quickly threw the Impala into park, feeling it lurch forward a little sharper than he meant. Dean would certainly chew him out for that later.

 

    Sam threw the door open and quickly headed to the backseat. His duffle was the first one that he found and he rummaged around in his attempt to find something that Dean could use. It wasn't like they carried tissues around in case of sickness, instead just swiping boxes from different motels when the need arouse. That complicated things when they actually needed the soft material for times such as this. Although, if Sam was being honest, he suspected that Dean may need something with a little more sturdiness to them than fluffy lotion soaked tissues.

 

    "Sab?"

 

    "I'm coming, I'm coming. Geez, how impatient can you be?" Sam realized that if Dean was asking Sam for help on this that it was a fairly dire situation. It wasn't like the dire situations that popped up from hunting, but it was certainly something that couldn't be ignored. Sam wanted to say something about how if Dean wouldn't snort back all that congestion they may not have this problem, but he assumed that it wouldn't do either of them any good, and would only serve in frustrating Dean even more.

 

    Sam's fingers finally enclosed on one of his favorite shirts. It was soft and worn as it was almost five years old. It was one that Sam could part with if he had to. After all, Dean had given up so many things for Sam over the years and even as late. Sam could give one of his possessions to his brother to use when he was feeling like crap. He tried not to think about Dean contaminating it with his grossness, but Sam wasn't going to get it back, so Dean could do whatever he wanted with it.

 

    Sam drew back and slipped back into the driver's side. He threw the shirt on Dean's lap while Dean sat hunched forward, panting with eyelashes fluttering. Sam knew his brother enough to know a sneezy expression without Dean having to warn him. He just wanted his brother to use the shirt instead of his arm.

 

    "Here," Sam broke in, trying to pull Dean's attention away from his nasal plight.

 

    "Thadt's dnot bine."

 

    "I don't care if it's not yours. Do you have any idea how many times you've done stuff like this for me? Just take it, Dean," Sam instructed, brushing a finger against his right eyebrow.

 

    "Dond't look."

 

    "You don't have to tell me twice."

 

    Dean brought the soft flannel shirt up to his nose and coughed heavily into it. The sound of Dean blowing his helplessly running nose echoed in the small space. Sam averted his gaze and locked it on the vents that were blowing against a tuft of fuzz that clung to the driver's side door; anything was a welcome distraction to the ungodly sounds that Dean was making beside him.

 

    Dean scrubbed and mopped up at his seeping nostrils before setting the shirt on his lap. He gave a deep, gurgling snort and swallowed thickly.

 

    Sam wrinkled his nose. "You have to stop doing that, dude."

 

    "Does it really bother you that much?" Dean sniffed again, letting out a deep grating cough that rose from the depths of his lungs. He clutched at his chest feebly, fingers digging into his shirt to massage the tightening muscles.

 

    Sam leaned back in the seat and scratched behind his ear. "I'm more or less concerned for you. Sinus infections are awful, man. You know that. I just don't want to see this get any worse for you."

 

    Dean bowed his head and gave another violent sniffle. "I hear ya, Sammy. I didn't realize it bothered you so damn much."

 

    A glimmer of amusement crept into Sam's gaze as he regarded the slightly crestfallen man beside him. "Tell you what, next time I'm sick I'll do the same and then you can let me know if it's annoying," he offered.

 

    Dean glanced up and raised his left brow. "I can't nearly be as annoying as you."

 

    "Is that a challenge?" Sam would've probably struck out at Dean playfully if Dean wouldn't have been shivering due to fever or sounding as if each breath was going to bring up a lung due to a coughing fit. They could save teasing for a time when Dean actually stood a chance of fighting back.

 

    Dean thought for a moment before giving his head a tired shake. He was too tired to be arguing with Sam when just breathing took everything out of him. "I didn't realize it got your panties in a twist, Samantha."

 

    The hope of a genuine conversation was thrown right out the window. Sam rubbed a hand against his jaw and sighed heavily. "Just forget it, Dean. I try to be nice and you find a way to get angry at that too. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut."

 

    Dean opened his mouth to answer only to pause when his head bobbed down into Sam's discarded shirt. "Huh'HrcHSSH! Huh'HchrhsHs! Huh'HRchsSH!" Dean blew heavily into the shirt, grimacing at the pain it brought. His sinuses ached each time he sneezed or blew his nose. Dean had a feeling that there was already a sinus infection brewing just by the way that each touch anywhere near his sinuses almost brought tears to his eyes. He didn't want to complain about it, though, and risk Sam giving him crap about it.

 

    Sam glanced over to Dean and noticed the wrinkle of uncomfortableness against the bridge of his nose and the shivers that traveled up his arms. "You okay, man?"

 

    Dean thought about saying something smart, but one look up at Sam to see the dewy liquid pools of concern that were looking back at him told Dean he could answer honestly. "Not really."

 

    Sam sighed. "Okay. Let's see if we can find a motel in one of the small towns that we pass. We can stop there until you're feeling better," he decided without any input from Dean. More often then not Dean would insist that he was fine until he collapsed of a fever of 104, or when he quite literally sounded like he was going to hack up a lung; Sam wanted to get in front of this before it escalated to that point.

 

    To Sam's utter bewilderment, Dean gave a defeated sigh. "Okay, Sammy."

 

    "You must really be feeling like shit if you're agreeing this easily," Sam murmured, pulling the Impala back on the long dirt road that stretched for miles in front of them.

 

    Dean squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, tucking himself into a curled ball with his shoulders hunched forward and knees drawn up. "Feel like shit."

 

    Sam's irritation with Dean began to melt away like the first thaw of spring. Snapping at Dean about something he already knew was causing him discomfort wasn't going to get them anywhere. Dean was a grown man and could do what he wanted. He wasn't purposely annoying him that Sam knew of. These things tended to happen when sharing the same space day after day. Common annoyances turned into bitter feuds if left unchecked. Sometime in the motel catching up on sleep and watching crappy TV would do them both good, Sam was sure of it.

 

    "Huh'HrchsSH! Huh'HrhcsHSs!"

 

    Sam winced at the uttered, forceful sound that shook his brother. It sounded like those sneezes came from the depths of his soul and raked his throat on the way out. By the way that Dean swayed even while sitting with eyes hazy and body hunched, Sam could tell how painful those sneezes had been for him.

 

    "Bless you," Sam chimed in sympathetically.

 

    Dean rubbed at his nose through the shirt, clinging to it for dear life. He paused as he thought about choking the rest back into his sinuses before deciding against it. He blew his nose into the shirt and leaned back against the seat.

 

    Sam felt a flash of pride that Dean had taken what he said to heart and actively tried to change. That was a step in the right direction in Sam's mind. "Can I get you anything, Dean?"

 

    Dean shrugged. "Some tissues when we stop?"

 

    Sam could feel himself grinning ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat. He quickly composed himself into giving a small tip of his head. "Yeah, we can do that."

 

    Dean muttered something under his breath before resting his forehead against the window. It wasn't long before deep, congested snores filled the car, drowning out the sound of the radio that Sam had turned on low.

 

    The snoring didn't bother Sam nearly as much as the snorting and sniffling did. But, that came with the territory of being close to a sick Dean.

 

    About halfway to their destination, Sam felt a harsh tickle in his nose. He attempted to rub it out with the side of his hand while still focused on the road, but it was quickly clear that wasn't a possibility. He took in a sudden intake of breath, head tipped back before falling forward into his partially raised arm.

 

    "HitchsSH! HithcshsSH!"

 

    A tired grin spread on Dean's face as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Bless ya, Sammy."

 

    Sam let out a constricted groan. Of course it would be his luck that he would already be infected with Dean's germs. "Damnit," Sam hissed.

 

    Dean chuckled. "Looks like we're going to need two boxes of tissues."

 

The End

[Jettous]

That was really great. 

[periwinkle.ducks]

This is so good! The sneeze spellings and descriptions of Deans cold were amazing, and the sibling dynamic is perfection 😂