Supernatural Fic: In My Time Of Dying - PG
Title: In My Time Of Dying
Author: charli_macboyd
Characters: Sam, Dean
Genre: Humour. Gen fic, complete.
Spoilers: None. I swear. The title just spawned a silly little bunny that bit me.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Word Count: 389
Summary: Sam spots one of the first signs of the Apocalypse…a sick Dean.
“Dean you’re sick.”
“I don’t get sick.”
“Dude you’ve got snot hanging out of your nose.”
“Hay fever.”
“It’s the middle of winter.”
“Plants produce pollen all year round.”
“So suddenly you’re a botanist? Get back into bed.”
”You gonna make me?”
“Hey if you want to try and stay on your feet and hack and cough all over the place, then be my guest.”
“Shuddup and find me a tissue.”
4 hours later
“Sam, I think I’m sick.”
“I thought you didn’t get sick.”
“I think it might be Ebola or something.”
“It’s a cold Dean.”
“No seriously, I’ve read about it, I’m going to start bleeding out my eyes and ass as my insides turn to soup.”
“Take some Tylenol and go back to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep, this damn cough is keeping me up.”
“It’s keeping me up too.”
“Sorry to be such a burden to you. I’ll get up and clean the guns shall I? Despite the raging fever and constant mucus.”
“You don’t suit the martyr role.”
“I’m serious. I wouldn’t want my impending death to get in the way of your busy life.”
“Lie down, shut up and I’ll go and get you some chicken soup.”
“I don’t want chicken soup, Florence Nightingale, I want a hot nurse to come and give me a sponge bath.”
“I thought you were dying?”
“I AM dying, but I want to die clean.”
“Your mind would still be filthy.”
“What’s your point?”
1 hour later
“Here take this.”
“What is it?”
“Nyquil.”
“Dude, it’s green.”
“It’ll help you sleep.”
“You know I don’t put anything green in my mouth.”
“This isn’t a vegetable Dean, it’s medication.”
“It looks like Kryptonite.”
“Open your mouth.”
“…”
“Dean open your damn mouth.”
“…”
“You are such a pussy.”
“Give it here…Jesus! Shit tastes like goddamn green death.”
“It’ll help.”
“If it doesn’t kill me first.”
“What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”
“Thanks for the platitude, Mom.”
“Shut up and try and get some sleep.”
“Sam?”
“What Dean?”
“You’re a good brother.”
“That’s just the cold talking.”
“No I mean it man. You’re like a really tall Mother Teresa.”
“And you have a fever.”
“Sammy?”
“Yes Dean?”
“I hope you catch this, you sanctimonious little…”
“Shut up and go to sleep Dean. And for God’s sake wipe your nose”
Author: charli_macboyd
Characters: Sam, Dean
Genre: Humour. Gen fic, complete.
Spoilers: None. I swear. The title just spawned a silly little bunny that bit me.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Word Count: 389
Summary: Sam spots one of the first signs of the Apocalypse…a sick Dean.
“Dean you’re sick.”
“I don’t get sick.”
“Dude you’ve got snot hanging out of your nose.”
“Hay fever.”
“It’s the middle of winter.”
“Plants produce pollen all year round.”
“So suddenly you’re a botanist? Get back into bed.”
”You gonna make me?”
“Hey if you want to try and stay on your feet and hack and cough all over the place, then be my guest.”
“Shuddup and find me a tissue.”
4 hours later
“Sam, I think I’m sick.”
“I thought you didn’t get sick.”
“I think it might be Ebola or something.”
“It’s a cold Dean.”
“No seriously, I’ve read about it, I’m going to start bleeding out my eyes and ass as my insides turn to soup.”
“Take some Tylenol and go back to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep, this damn cough is keeping me up.”
“It’s keeping me up too.”
“Sorry to be such a burden to you. I’ll get up and clean the guns shall I? Despite the raging fever and constant mucus.”
“You don’t suit the martyr role.”
“I’m serious. I wouldn’t want my impending death to get in the way of your busy life.”
“Lie down, shut up and I’ll go and get you some chicken soup.”
“I don’t want chicken soup, Florence Nightingale, I want a hot nurse to come and give me a sponge bath.”
“I thought you were dying?”
“I AM dying, but I want to die clean.”
“Your mind would still be filthy.”
“What’s your point?”
1 hour later
“Here take this.”
“What is it?”
“Nyquil.”
“Dude, it’s green.”
“It’ll help you sleep.”
“You know I don’t put anything green in my mouth.”
“This isn’t a vegetable Dean, it’s medication.”
“It looks like Kryptonite.”
“Open your mouth.”
“…”
“Dean open your damn mouth.”
“…”
“You are such a pussy.”
“Give it here…Jesus! Shit tastes like goddamn green death.”
“It’ll help.”
“If it doesn’t kill me first.”
“What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”
“Thanks for the platitude, Mom.”
“Shut up and try and get some sleep.”
“Sam?”
“What Dean?”
“You’re a good brother.”
“That’s just the cold talking.”
“No I mean it man. You’re like a really tall Mother Teresa.”
“And you have a fever.”
“Sammy?”
“Yes Dean?”
“I hope you catch this, you sanctimonious little…”
“Shut up and go to sleep Dean. And for God’s sake wipe your nose”