To Be Human (SPN, Jack)

[lillian]

Yep, more Jack! This one picks up at the end of 14x3 “the Scar” when Jack tells Cas he must have a cold and that’s why he’s coughing. A few episodes later, Dean comments that Jack still has “that cough.” So here’s some fluff about what could have happened in between (with some angst because dads but nothing extra dramatic and no major spoilers). disclaimer- Jack is 18

___
 

"Maybe... maybe we could go on a hunting trip. I mean, if you want to," Cas said, offering a casual shrug.

Jack looked up at him, face full of trust and excitement. Cas couldn’t stop a proud smile of his own. Suddenly, Jack ducked his head and began to cough. Not the stifled throat clearing he’d been doing since that morning, but full, deep coughs. He sniffled and took a deep breath, wincing.

“Sorry,” he said. 

“Are you okay?” Cas asked, frowning. Jack gave him a reassuring smile. 

“I’m fine. I’m human now. Probably just getting my first cold.” 

Cas felt a small pang of sympathy, then relief. He’d had a cold once, when he was human. It had not been pleasant, but he'd survived it. Jack rubbed his nose and sniffled again. Just a human cold. He would go find supplies. A runny nose, he could fix.

“I’ll make you some soup, then,” he said gently, and closed the door. 

On his way to the bunker kitchen, he passed Sam in the hallway. 

“Sam– do we have tissues?”

Sam nodded distractedly. “Uh yeah, should be some in the linen closet.”

“Thank you.”

Sam nodded and turned to continue on his way.

“I do not require tissues, but Jack has a cold,” Cas said quickly.

Sam stopped and turned around, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

“Wait, Jack has a cold?” 

The little thread of worry Cas hadn’t been able to will away thrummed again, tight in his heart. He’d hoped that Sam would just nod and offer some advice about viral illnesses.

“Yes, he was coughing. I asked if he was alright and he said he probably caught a human cold.” He swallowed. “I believe him.” He searched Sam’s face. 

To his relief, Sam shrugged. “Okay, he just needs to hydrate and rest and he should be fine.”

“I am making him soup.”

Sam nodded. “Good. Tell him I hope he feels better.”

“I will.”

A cold. A human cold. Cured with tissues and rest and soup. Cas could handle that.

-

Sam knocked gently on Jack’s door. 

“Cobe in,” came a muffled voice. 

Sam eased the door open to find Jack perched on his bed, a clump of tissues hovering half-way to his face.

He snapped forward into the tissues with an irritated-sounding “het’SHHyew!” 

“Gesundheit,” Sam said, “that does sound like a cold.” Jack tried to look at him, but his breath hitched again as his teary eyes slipped closed. 

“ATCH’hew!” 

Sam smiled sympathetically. 

Jack wiped his nose. “Sor–” he cleared his throat. “Sorry. I started sdeezi’g a- ah - ATSHHuu! – and now I cad’t stop.” He wrinkled his nose. “This is gross.” 

Sam grabbed the box of tissues and held it out. 

“You do know how to blow your nose, right?” Dean said from the doorway. 

“Dean,” Sam admonished.

A hurt expression crossed Jack’s face before he ducked into the tissues to sneeze again, this time clenching his teeth to hold back the sound. 

“het’GXTsh!” 

He blew his nose quietly and balled up the used tissues. He sniffled, and reached for more from the box Sam was holding. He carefully blew his nose again, turning away from Sam and Dean as the soft, productive blows turned into a congested honk. 

“Soup is ready,” Cas said, coming to stand behind Dean with a steaming bowl of soup and a glass of water. Dean stepped out of his way, lingering by the door. Cas set the soup and water on the nightstand. Jack kept his body turned to the side, pitching again into the by now damp tissues.

“AKSH! hh… hah… hak’SHH! ughnn…”

“Bless you, Jack,” Sam said gently.

Cas frowned. “Is this… normal?” He tried to remember all the times he’d seen Sam or Dean sneeze, but found he couldn’t think about anything except the newly human nephilim in front of him.

Dean snorted. Sam glared at him. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty normal for the beginning of a cold.”

“It’s just so… itchy,” Jack said, rubbing his nose.

Sam smiled. "I know, but you'll feel better in a few days."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Will you two quit hovering and let him sleep? He’s got the sniffles. He’s fine,” Dean said, turning to leave.

–

Just check. Make sure his light’s out and he’s actually asleep. It’s not wussy to check. Dean paused by Jack’s door, listening. Light spilled through the grate at the bottom of the door. 

A ragged inhale followed by a choked cough sounded through the door. Dean stepped back, eyes widening, then raised a fist to knock. 

“Jack?” 

The coughs continued, Jack unable to answer. Dean threw the door open.

Jack coughed, eyes wide as he clamped his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Earlier, when he was coughing, Cas had reacted in a way that made Jack worry that what he was feeling wasn’t normal. Sam and Dean seemed mostly amused by his sneezing, but — Jack coughed harder, curling in on himself and turning away. He wheezed, the coughs gurgling in his chest. Something metallic filled his mouth and he swallowed it back down.

“Jesus, sounds like you’re gearin’ for pneumonia, Sniffles. You breathin’?”

Jack nodded. “Yes, I am breathing.”

“Then we’re golden.” Dean paused, unsure what to do next. Jack sat perched on the bed where they’d left him, a tissue crumpled in his hand. He saw Dean glance at the tissue, and he tossed it into a trashcan on the other side of the bed, pushing the can out of sight. He took a deep breath, and let it out with a wheeze. He coughed gently into his fist and smiled up at Dean. 

“Everything’s okay, I promise. I have a cold, right? And coughing is a symptom. I looked it up.”

“Yeah but you sound like you’d like one less lung in your chest.”

Jack frowned. Dean sighed. 

“I mean your cough sounds bad. Like, worse than just-a-cold bad.” He crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, looking at his hands folded in his lap. 

Dean frowned in surprise. “Sorry? You’re fightin’ off a bug, it’s not your fault.”

“Well I'm –” a panicked look came over Jack’s face and he quickly pinched his nose. “n’GZXT–!” He jerked forward so hard he almost hit his forehead on his knee. 

“Woah, easy there!”

“hnn… NXGT! hhhNXCHT!” 

Jack threw his head back, forefinger and thumb still clamped tightly over his nose, knuckles of his fist white with the effort of holding back his sneezes. Tears gathered in his dark blond lashes.

“haahhhh… hg’CHXT!NGXT!NXXT!ehh–” A tear slid down his cheek.

“Stop that, dammit!” Dean reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling Jack’s hand away from his face. 

Eyes still screwed shut, Jack turned away from Dean with a desperate “ASHH!ASH!ASH-shoo!” He heaved a breath and threw his arm over his face, wrenching himself from Dean’s grasp. “hahhh—hat-DJSHH!” He tented his hands over his nose and mouth and trembled with another wet “ISH…!” –another gasp– “igt-SHOO!” 

Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding him steady by the shoulder. 

“I– ihhh– I’b soh–hh! hgg’shh! huh… I’b sorry…” Jack panted, sniffling hard behind his hands. 

“Gesundheit.”

Dean snatched a handful of tissues and handed them to Jack, unconsciously starting to rub his back. 

Jack gave him a watery glance over the tissues, then shut his eyes tight and blew softly.

“C’mon, harder than that,” Dean said, and smacked him on the back, causing Jack to accidentally let out a loud gurgly blow. “There ya go. Again.” Jack blew hard, petering off into congested snuffles. 

Dean offered him the box of tissues. Carefully keeping the soggy handful tight to his face, Jack pulled out a few and rapidly switched them, tossing the soiled ones in an overflowing trash can by the bed. 

“I’b sorry…” he mumbled croakily, then tried to blow again. All that came out was a harsh honk. Dean rubbed his back in sympathy as he coughed stuffily into the tissues. He lowered them cautiously and sniffled, congested and strained. “Ugh… gross.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, you’re pretty gross right now,” he said good-naturedly. 

Jack’s eyes widened. “I’b really sorry, please go, I cad–”

“Woah, hey,” Dean said, “I didn’t mean it like that. Everyone’s gross when they’re sick. But do me a favor and don’t try to smother yourself again. That only makes it worse.”

Jack looked down at the wet tissues in his hand and then leaned over to throw them away. 

“I was tryi’g dot to mbake so buch doise…” he sniffled and scrubbed two fingers under his pink nostrils. 

Dean’s heart clenched a bit at the familiar gesture. Kid still watched his every move… He felt a pang of guilt. 

Jack coughed harshly into a fist and sniffled blearily. 

“Is id ogkay if I go tdo bed dow?” He asked softly. 

“Yeah, I’ll let you be,” Dean said, getting up so Jack could slip under the covers. “I don’t think Drs. Over and Cautious gave you enough cold meds so I’m gonna go grab the Nyquil, okay?”

Jack smiled slightly and nodded. “Ogkay…”

Dean ruffled his hair and turned to leave. 

“Deadn?”

“Mm?”

“Thagks…”

Dean sighed. “You’re welcome, bud.” He gently closed the door. Heading down the hall, he heard the sound of deep, chesty coughs muffled into a blanket. He walked faster.

__

Let me know what you think! I'm on a Supernatural kick atm but I will return to my abandoned Hetalia fic eventually... Thanks for reading!

Edited May 9, 2023 by lillian

[ID2006]

You have them all down perfectly 🥰 

[lillian]

@ID2006 thank you! I was really worrying. Especially about Jack !

Edited May 10, 2023 by lillian

[secret19]

This is gold. 

[lillian]

@secret19 🥰 aww you’re too sweet