Look What the Sammy Dragged In, part 2
(Sorry my page is such a mess. I'll fix it one day...)
Part 2
As Dean pulled the Impala through the stoplight, Sam glanced over at his struggling brother, and sighed. "Bless you. Uh, Dean...you really oughta pull over. If you start sneezing like that again while we're moving, you're gonna wreck the car."
"T-hii... Traffic, Sab." was all Dean was able get out. And Dean was right. They were in the middle of a three-lane stretch of road in stop-and-go traffic, and they were flanked by a line of cars on either side. They were in a precarious situation now, and they both knew it.
Sam scratched at his chin thoughtfully, then grabbed some old fast food napkins from the glove compartment and held them out to his brother. "Here, try blowing your nose. See if it helps."
Dean grabbed the napkins greedily from Sam's hand and pressed them to his face, sneezing in mid-attempt to blow his nose. "sn-efffffttt!" After he was finally able to get in a couple good, honking blows, Sam grimaced as Dean tossed the soggy wad into the back seat, which landed neatly on top of Sam's jacket.
Sam turned to Dean with wide eyes. "Come on, Dean! Gross, man."
"Doesn't matter. We're gonna burn that damn thing when we get back to the hotel, anyway." Dean's voice was a little clearer now, but he still had that unfocused, pre-sneezy look on his face. Sam chewed nervously at his cuticle and looked ahead. They were only about a mile from the hotel now...as long as Dean could restrain himself from having another fit like the one he'd had back at the stoplight, they really should be okay. Sam scrunched his enormous, fur-covered body as close to the passenger side door as he was physically capable of, not wanting to do anything else to set his brother off again. Knowing Dean, it wouldn't take much.
Unfortunately, the traffic was still moving at a steady crawl, and it was a slow go back to the hotel. Dean managed to make it a good several minutes before his breath started to catch again, and Sam started to notice Dean shifting around in his seat, just a little. Not a good sign, but Sam was actually pretty impressed with his brother's control up until this point. Aside from stifling three random, near-silent sneezes into his shoulder, Dean was actually managing quite well, all things considered.
That was until, out of nowhere, a violent sneeze erupted from the driver's side of the car, loud and sudden enough to make Sam's whole body jolt in surprise. He glanced over at Dean, who was now scrubbing at his nose with a frantic look on his face.
"Gesundheit."
Still looking straight ahead, Dean took in a sharp breath, then clamped down hard on his nose, jerking forward with a silent, painful-looking sneeze. Even as he came up for air, his breath was already starting to hitch again.
"Uh, Dean...are you alright?"
Dean nodded, paused, then started shaking his head 'no' instead, as his nostrils started to flare. "It's...I guh, gotta..." Dean had one hand hovering uncertainly in front of his face, and was in an obvious struggle to keep his eyes open and on the road. Fresh tears had welled up in his eyes, and were starting to spill over onto his cheeks. Uh oh. Sam could tell that Dean was on the brink of a sneezing fit, and Dean obviously knew it as well. Looked like it was gonna be a bad one, too.
Unsure of what else he could possibly do to help the situation, Sam slid in close to his brother and put one of his hands on the steering wheel, a move that would cause Sam to get his ass handed to him under normal circumstances. "K' dude...If you gotta do it, go ahead. You're covered."
The deathly glare that Dean shot towards Sam lasted all of about half a second. The sudden increased proximity of Sam's dander-covered body was Dean's breaking point, and a desperate sneeze burst out of him before he'd even had time to move his hand from the steering wheel to his face. A fine mist sprayed the steering wheel of the Impala, and Sam's hand along with it, but Sam didn't have the heart to even pretend to be bothered by it.
"hih'HXSHH'huh!"
"Bless you."
"hih'ESSHH'huh, 'EEESHH'hue!"
"Bless you."
"ih-hiiii-"
"Oh shit, Brake!"
Dean was right in the middle of another build-up, but having heard Sam's yell, he somehow managed to abort the threatening sneeze, and stomped clumsily on the brake pedal, bringing the Impala to an abrupt halt. The car behind them laid on the horn for at least several seconds.
"Alright, we're switching. Move over, dude." Sam jumped out of the car and hobbled over to the driver's side of the car, cursing to himself as the pain shooting through his left leg gave him an untimely reminder of his injured knee. Sam nearly took a nosedive as he turned the corner towards the driver's side of the car, and had to grab onto the hood of the Impala to regain his balance. As he was getting ready to open the door, the man in the SUV behind them poked his shiny, bald head out the window, and started screaming at Sam. "Are you people drunk, or something? Get off the damn road before you kill someone, assholes!"
Sam raised his hand towards the furious man. "Sorry! We're sorry. It's my brother, he's uh...sneezing. Just...sorry!" he repeated stupidly, as he ducked into the car. "Dude, come on. Move over."
Dean was too preoccupied with his allergy attack to register what Sam was saying at first, but finally managed to multi-task enough to slide his way over to the passenger seat, with a little pushing and prodding from Sam.
Once he had the Impala moving again, Sam glanced in the rearview mirror, and winced. "Dude, Mr. Clean back there is ready to kick your ass. He thinks you're drunk. We need to get off the main road in case he calls the cops on us."
"Mr... HNGG'isshh! ...who? What?"
Sam shook his head. "Never mind." Dean was now hunched over with both hands over his face, breathing in deep, measured breaths. It was only at that moment that Sam registered the fact that the passenger side of the seat was coated in a layer of dust and cat hair, from when Sam initially drug all that shit into the Impala earlier. And now his brother was sitting right in it. Shit. No wonder Dean was still struggling so much.
Dean continued to sit in silence for several seconds more, until finally his hitching, gasping breaths filled the silence in the Impala. Dean's body shuddered as he launched into a lengthy fit of rapid-fire sneezes into his cupped hands, each sneeze louder and harsher than the previous one. This time Sam counted, holy shit, eight sneezes in a row, at which point Sam looked over at his brother in wide-eyed concern. Finally, Dean finished up with one more powerful sneeze, before he brought his head up, gasping for breath. Yikes.
When Dean was finished, he lowered his head back down into his hands, groaning softly in the aftermath. Sam couldn't stop himself from reaching over and rubbed several gentle circles on his brother's back. Dean let out a loud, muffled grunt in response, indicating that the last thing he wanted right now was to be pawed at, and Sam quickly pulled his arm back.
"Sorry. You alright?"
"That...sucked."
"Yeah, I bet. That was some fit you just had."
Sniff! "I know...Ugh. We almost to the hotel yet?"
"S'just around the corner dude. We'll be there in just a minute, alright?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One hour later...
"heh...hetch'eshhh-huh."
"Jesus, Dean."
"h'atcchh'hooo! hihh-"
"Dean, you really need to-"
Dean held up a finger at Sam, eyes still closed, and breath hitching wildly. "Hiii-uh. eh'heshh...huh. hiiiiii....hi''ESSHSHH'hooo!" Dean scrubbed at his nose with his sodden tissue, and sat back in his chair, sighing. "Okay...I think I'b done now."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Sure you are. You've said that five times already. I give you two minutes, at most."
Both Sam and Dean were now freshly showered, wearing clean, cat-dander free clothes, and were now recuperating from their respective injuries and allergy attacks in their hotel room. Sam's clothes from earlier were wrapped neatly in a trash bag in the trunk of the Impala, ready to be laundered. (Or burned, depending on which Winchester you asked.) Dean had somehow managed to wrap Sam's knee, in between his body-wracking sneezes, and Sam's leg was now propped up on a mound of pillows, with a bag of ice sitting on top of it. A second ice bag was sitting on Sam's injured shoulder.
"Huh--IIIsshh'uh!"
Sam sighed. "Dude, stop. Sneezing. There's not one shred of cat hair in this entire room."
Dean blew his nose, then glared at Sam over the wad of tissues covering his face. "Well I don't know what to tell you, Sam. I guess my nose hasn't gotten the memo yet, 'cause it's not like I'm sitting here sneezing my face off for kicks." Dean narrowed his eyes as his nose twitched sharply once, then two times more. "Oh, come on. Dammit. ih-hiii..."
Sam sighed as Dean lunged forward with another sneeze. Dean's nose definitely hadn't gotten the memo yet, not that it was at all surprising. Dean was always like this after suffering a particularly bad allergy attack. Sam could expect at least an hour or two more of relentless sneezing from his brother- especially if he continued to refuse the only medicine that ever gave him any relief.
"Dude, please. I'm begging you here. Will you just take the damn Benedryl already?"
Dean scowled. "No. If I take that crap again, I'll be good for nothing for the rest of the...damn...night...hng-usshhh'huh!" sniff. "Ugh, God." Dean threw his wad of tissues on the floor and plopped down onto his bed, and was practically sulking. "This isn't fair. All I wanted was one night, Sammy, one night. Is that really so much to ask? Just some good, cheap booze, and that hot little bartender down the street...She gave me her number two days ago, dude." Dean crossed his arms and glared at Sam." Screw the Bendryl. I'm not gonna let those goddamn cats cockblock me for the second day in a row."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Dude, even if you don't take the Benedryl, there's no way you're gonna get any action tonight. Your eyes are so damn swollen, no girl is going to want to take you anywhere, except maybe to the nearest emergency room."
"Whatever. You're exaggerating."
"Oh really? Go look for yourself.'
"Such a drama queen", Dean muttered, as he stumbled his way over to the mirror, scrubbing at his nose the entire way. Dean took one look at his reflection, and winced, hissing loudly. "Ah, crap." Dean turned to glare at his brother across the room. "I'm gonna kill you for this, Sam."
Sam still felt guilty as hell for causing Dean so much distress today, but he was getting pretty damn tired of Dean's constant abuse at this point. "Dude, I can only say I'm sorry so many times. And besides, it's not my fault that you're so damn allergic to cats-"
"-ESSH'uhhh, 'heh'eshhh'huh!" Dean cut Sam off with a pair of sudden sneezes, then groaned as he sunk back down miserably on his bed. "Ugh, God. Don't even say that word."
"Sorry." Sam couldn't stop himself from grinning at that, and he turned his head away so Dean couldn't see. Even Sam had to admit that Dean was kind of adorable, sometimes. Sam pulled himself up from his bed and limped over to the dresser across the room. He pulled the box of Benedryl out of the top drawer, chucked it into Dean's lap, then grabbed his wallet off the nightstand. "Come on, man. Give it up. Find us something to watch on TV, I'll go grab us a pizza."
"Uh-uh. You're not...not...hi'KISSH'ooo!...Not going anywhere on that knee, gimpy. You need to keep ice on that for another half an hour, at least."
"Well you're not going anywhere until I vacuum out the inside of the Impala. Sneezy."
The two brothers glared at each other for several seconds, but it wasn't too long before they both relented. Neither of them were getting anywhere like this, after all, and they certainly weren't getting anywhere in the Creative Insults department. Sam sighed, reclined back on his bed, and threw the ice bag back onto his knee. "Fine. Bring me over my cellphone. I'll see if there's any place around here that delivers."
"Fine." Dean dry swallowed two of the Benedryl, grabbed Sam's phone off of the bedside table, and tossed it towards his brother, who caught it mid-air. "See if you can find some place with Chinese."
"I don't want Chinese."
"Dude, you owe me."
Sam huffed loudly. "Fine." Sam started scrolling through the internet, in search of local restaurants. "Alright...there's a Chinese place about six blocks from here that delivers. What do you want?"
"See if they...they have, have uh...hi-.hiiii ...'ETCHHHH-ooo!"
"Sure thing." Sam smirked. "Do you want that with rice or chow mein?"
Sniff! "Ugh. Bite me."
THE END
Part 2
As Dean pulled the Impala through the stoplight, Sam glanced over at his struggling brother, and sighed. "Bless you. Uh, Dean...you really oughta pull over. If you start sneezing like that again while we're moving, you're gonna wreck the car."
"T-hii... Traffic, Sab." was all Dean was able get out. And Dean was right. They were in the middle of a three-lane stretch of road in stop-and-go traffic, and they were flanked by a line of cars on either side. They were in a precarious situation now, and they both knew it.
Sam scratched at his chin thoughtfully, then grabbed some old fast food napkins from the glove compartment and held them out to his brother. "Here, try blowing your nose. See if it helps."
Dean grabbed the napkins greedily from Sam's hand and pressed them to his face, sneezing in mid-attempt to blow his nose. "sn-efffffttt!" After he was finally able to get in a couple good, honking blows, Sam grimaced as Dean tossed the soggy wad into the back seat, which landed neatly on top of Sam's jacket.
Sam turned to Dean with wide eyes. "Come on, Dean! Gross, man."
"Doesn't matter. We're gonna burn that damn thing when we get back to the hotel, anyway." Dean's voice was a little clearer now, but he still had that unfocused, pre-sneezy look on his face. Sam chewed nervously at his cuticle and looked ahead. They were only about a mile from the hotel now...as long as Dean could restrain himself from having another fit like the one he'd had back at the stoplight, they really should be okay. Sam scrunched his enormous, fur-covered body as close to the passenger side door as he was physically capable of, not wanting to do anything else to set his brother off again. Knowing Dean, it wouldn't take much.
Unfortunately, the traffic was still moving at a steady crawl, and it was a slow go back to the hotel. Dean managed to make it a good several minutes before his breath started to catch again, and Sam started to notice Dean shifting around in his seat, just a little. Not a good sign, but Sam was actually pretty impressed with his brother's control up until this point. Aside from stifling three random, near-silent sneezes into his shoulder, Dean was actually managing quite well, all things considered.
That was until, out of nowhere, a violent sneeze erupted from the driver's side of the car, loud and sudden enough to make Sam's whole body jolt in surprise. He glanced over at Dean, who was now scrubbing at his nose with a frantic look on his face.
"Gesundheit."
Still looking straight ahead, Dean took in a sharp breath, then clamped down hard on his nose, jerking forward with a silent, painful-looking sneeze. Even as he came up for air, his breath was already starting to hitch again.
"Uh, Dean...are you alright?"
Dean nodded, paused, then started shaking his head 'no' instead, as his nostrils started to flare. "It's...I guh, gotta..." Dean had one hand hovering uncertainly in front of his face, and was in an obvious struggle to keep his eyes open and on the road. Fresh tears had welled up in his eyes, and were starting to spill over onto his cheeks. Uh oh. Sam could tell that Dean was on the brink of a sneezing fit, and Dean obviously knew it as well. Looked like it was gonna be a bad one, too.
Unsure of what else he could possibly do to help the situation, Sam slid in close to his brother and put one of his hands on the steering wheel, a move that would cause Sam to get his ass handed to him under normal circumstances. "K' dude...If you gotta do it, go ahead. You're covered."
The deathly glare that Dean shot towards Sam lasted all of about half a second. The sudden increased proximity of Sam's dander-covered body was Dean's breaking point, and a desperate sneeze burst out of him before he'd even had time to move his hand from the steering wheel to his face. A fine mist sprayed the steering wheel of the Impala, and Sam's hand along with it, but Sam didn't have the heart to even pretend to be bothered by it.
"hih'HXSHH'huh!"
"Bless you."
"hih'ESSHH'huh, 'EEESHH'hue!"
"Bless you."
"ih-hiiii-"
"Oh shit, Brake!"
Dean was right in the middle of another build-up, but having heard Sam's yell, he somehow managed to abort the threatening sneeze, and stomped clumsily on the brake pedal, bringing the Impala to an abrupt halt. The car behind them laid on the horn for at least several seconds.
"Alright, we're switching. Move over, dude." Sam jumped out of the car and hobbled over to the driver's side of the car, cursing to himself as the pain shooting through his left leg gave him an untimely reminder of his injured knee. Sam nearly took a nosedive as he turned the corner towards the driver's side of the car, and had to grab onto the hood of the Impala to regain his balance. As he was getting ready to open the door, the man in the SUV behind them poked his shiny, bald head out the window, and started screaming at Sam. "Are you people drunk, or something? Get off the damn road before you kill someone, assholes!"
Sam raised his hand towards the furious man. "Sorry! We're sorry. It's my brother, he's uh...sneezing. Just...sorry!" he repeated stupidly, as he ducked into the car. "Dude, come on. Move over."
Dean was too preoccupied with his allergy attack to register what Sam was saying at first, but finally managed to multi-task enough to slide his way over to the passenger seat, with a little pushing and prodding from Sam.
Once he had the Impala moving again, Sam glanced in the rearview mirror, and winced. "Dude, Mr. Clean back there is ready to kick your ass. He thinks you're drunk. We need to get off the main road in case he calls the cops on us."
"Mr... HNGG'isshh! ...who? What?"
Sam shook his head. "Never mind." Dean was now hunched over with both hands over his face, breathing in deep, measured breaths. It was only at that moment that Sam registered the fact that the passenger side of the seat was coated in a layer of dust and cat hair, from when Sam initially drug all that shit into the Impala earlier. And now his brother was sitting right in it. Shit. No wonder Dean was still struggling so much.
Dean continued to sit in silence for several seconds more, until finally his hitching, gasping breaths filled the silence in the Impala. Dean's body shuddered as he launched into a lengthy fit of rapid-fire sneezes into his cupped hands, each sneeze louder and harsher than the previous one. This time Sam counted, holy shit, eight sneezes in a row, at which point Sam looked over at his brother in wide-eyed concern. Finally, Dean finished up with one more powerful sneeze, before he brought his head up, gasping for breath. Yikes.
When Dean was finished, he lowered his head back down into his hands, groaning softly in the aftermath. Sam couldn't stop himself from reaching over and rubbed several gentle circles on his brother's back. Dean let out a loud, muffled grunt in response, indicating that the last thing he wanted right now was to be pawed at, and Sam quickly pulled his arm back.
"Sorry. You alright?"
"That...sucked."
"Yeah, I bet. That was some fit you just had."
Sniff! "I know...Ugh. We almost to the hotel yet?"
"S'just around the corner dude. We'll be there in just a minute, alright?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One hour later...
"heh...hetch'eshhh-huh."
"Jesus, Dean."
"h'atcchh'hooo! hihh-"
"Dean, you really need to-"
Dean held up a finger at Sam, eyes still closed, and breath hitching wildly. "Hiii-uh. eh'heshh...huh. hiiiiii....hi''ESSHSHH'hooo!" Dean scrubbed at his nose with his sodden tissue, and sat back in his chair, sighing. "Okay...I think I'b done now."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Sure you are. You've said that five times already. I give you two minutes, at most."
Both Sam and Dean were now freshly showered, wearing clean, cat-dander free clothes, and were now recuperating from their respective injuries and allergy attacks in their hotel room. Sam's clothes from earlier were wrapped neatly in a trash bag in the trunk of the Impala, ready to be laundered. (Or burned, depending on which Winchester you asked.) Dean had somehow managed to wrap Sam's knee, in between his body-wracking sneezes, and Sam's leg was now propped up on a mound of pillows, with a bag of ice sitting on top of it. A second ice bag was sitting on Sam's injured shoulder.
"Huh--IIIsshh'uh!"
Sam sighed. "Dude, stop. Sneezing. There's not one shred of cat hair in this entire room."
Dean blew his nose, then glared at Sam over the wad of tissues covering his face. "Well I don't know what to tell you, Sam. I guess my nose hasn't gotten the memo yet, 'cause it's not like I'm sitting here sneezing my face off for kicks." Dean narrowed his eyes as his nose twitched sharply once, then two times more. "Oh, come on. Dammit. ih-hiii..."
Sam sighed as Dean lunged forward with another sneeze. Dean's nose definitely hadn't gotten the memo yet, not that it was at all surprising. Dean was always like this after suffering a particularly bad allergy attack. Sam could expect at least an hour or two more of relentless sneezing from his brother- especially if he continued to refuse the only medicine that ever gave him any relief.
"Dude, please. I'm begging you here. Will you just take the damn Benedryl already?"
Dean scowled. "No. If I take that crap again, I'll be good for nothing for the rest of the...damn...night...hng-usshhh'huh!" sniff. "Ugh, God." Dean threw his wad of tissues on the floor and plopped down onto his bed, and was practically sulking. "This isn't fair. All I wanted was one night, Sammy, one night. Is that really so much to ask? Just some good, cheap booze, and that hot little bartender down the street...She gave me her number two days ago, dude." Dean crossed his arms and glared at Sam." Screw the Bendryl. I'm not gonna let those goddamn cats cockblock me for the second day in a row."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Dude, even if you don't take the Benedryl, there's no way you're gonna get any action tonight. Your eyes are so damn swollen, no girl is going to want to take you anywhere, except maybe to the nearest emergency room."
"Whatever. You're exaggerating."
"Oh really? Go look for yourself.'
"Such a drama queen", Dean muttered, as he stumbled his way over to the mirror, scrubbing at his nose the entire way. Dean took one look at his reflection, and winced, hissing loudly. "Ah, crap." Dean turned to glare at his brother across the room. "I'm gonna kill you for this, Sam."
Sam still felt guilty as hell for causing Dean so much distress today, but he was getting pretty damn tired of Dean's constant abuse at this point. "Dude, I can only say I'm sorry so many times. And besides, it's not my fault that you're so damn allergic to cats-"
"-ESSH'uhhh, 'heh'eshhh'huh!" Dean cut Sam off with a pair of sudden sneezes, then groaned as he sunk back down miserably on his bed. "Ugh, God. Don't even say that word."
"Sorry." Sam couldn't stop himself from grinning at that, and he turned his head away so Dean couldn't see. Even Sam had to admit that Dean was kind of adorable, sometimes. Sam pulled himself up from his bed and limped over to the dresser across the room. He pulled the box of Benedryl out of the top drawer, chucked it into Dean's lap, then grabbed his wallet off the nightstand. "Come on, man. Give it up. Find us something to watch on TV, I'll go grab us a pizza."
"Uh-uh. You're not...not...hi'KISSH'ooo!...Not going anywhere on that knee, gimpy. You need to keep ice on that for another half an hour, at least."
"Well you're not going anywhere until I vacuum out the inside of the Impala. Sneezy."
The two brothers glared at each other for several seconds, but it wasn't too long before they both relented. Neither of them were getting anywhere like this, after all, and they certainly weren't getting anywhere in the Creative Insults department. Sam sighed, reclined back on his bed, and threw the ice bag back onto his knee. "Fine. Bring me over my cellphone. I'll see if there's any place around here that delivers."
"Fine." Dean dry swallowed two of the Benedryl, grabbed Sam's phone off of the bedside table, and tossed it towards his brother, who caught it mid-air. "See if you can find some place with Chinese."
"I don't want Chinese."
"Dude, you owe me."
Sam huffed loudly. "Fine." Sam started scrolling through the internet, in search of local restaurants. "Alright...there's a Chinese place about six blocks from here that delivers. What do you want?"
"See if they...they have, have uh...hi-.hiiii ...'ETCHHHH-ooo!"
"Sure thing." Sam smirked. "Do you want that with rice or chow mein?"
Sniff! "Ugh. Bite me."
THE END