Story! A Medical History of Sam and Dean Winchester
Title: A Medical History of Sam and Dean Winchester
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13 for adult situations and implied wincesty touchings
Word Count: 2,354
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Everything is mine, and then I wake up.
Summary: Throughout the years, Dean (like any other child) got sick. And Sam didn't.
When Dean was eight years old, he got the chicken pox.
Sam doesn't remember it that well, but Dean crows about how high his fever got, how he almost died (though Sam suspects Dean is embellishing a little). Dean also brags about how he got a whole week off of school.
What he doesn't mention is that he spent most of that week in a bathtub full of oatmeal and calamine lotion, wishing he could tear his skin off. Sam dutifully kept him company by driving his toy truck along the side of the tub and making *vroom* sounds.
When Sam is nine, chicken pox breaks out in his classroom, and John sends him to school regardless.
"It's better that he gets it when he's young, it's much worse when you're older, Dean." He tries to explain to his eldest, who secretly smiles at the thought of Sammy covered in little red spots. Dean wants him to get it soon so he can play connect-the-dots with markers.
Two weeks later, it is clear that Sam hasn't shown a single symptom, even though he was over at Billy Huffman's house-twice. And all seven of the Huffman children have it.
When Sam is twelve the doctor shakes his head and gives him the vaccine, explaining that not all kids get chicken pox. Sam pouts because he won't get a week off of school, but Dean is suspicious.
*****
Dean caught a nasty stomach bug when he was ten. John stopped in the middle of driving cross-country to turn around and head back to Pastor Jim's. Dean couldn't keep any kind of food down and the car ride is torture. He sat in back by himself and Sam rode shotgun, covering his ears whenever Dean started retching.
They make it to Jim's in record time; but after being in close quarters with Dean for a day, John is looking green.
Jim confines the both of them to bed-rest and daytime TV. Dean and John eat nothing but saltines and drink ginger ale. Sam whines that he wants soda too, and without thinking he drinks from Dean's cup. John is too weak to reprimand him so Jim pulls him aside and explains to Sam about germs and being contagious.
The next day Sam is fine, Dean is bedridden but keeping down non-cracker-type solids, and John has enough strength to flip through the papers, hoping the Jersey Devil's trail doesn't go cold.
Jim washes his hands constantly and covers his mouth when any of the boys cough, but it's no use. By the end of the day he's as sick as the both of them.
Sam's pretty much got the run of the place to himself, except he doesn't do much but play cards with Dean and refill soda glasses. He takes a bath with his trucks in the holy water fountain; John loses it when Dean tells, and he ends up with his face in the toilet, reprimanding Sam in-between dry heaves.
When the bug passes, John sends Sam and Dean to wait in the car while he talks quietly with Jim. From the car, Dean carefully watches his father and Jim while Sam plays with his seatbelt. The two men nod a lot and mouth Sam's name every so often and John rubs his face in frustration.
*****
Dean was never fond of the ocean to begin with, and when he tries shrimp for the first time at age twelve, his throat closes up.
When he wakes up in the hospital John and Sam are there; and there's also an immunologist there who explains to Dean that he's terribly allergic to shellfish. She tells him about the foods he should avoid, what to do if he thinks he's been exposed, what the EpiPen is for.
When she leaves, John sits down on the bed and pats Dean on the head. Sam offers him the last of his gummy worms. Dean chews carefully, and John smiles and tells him his mother was also allergic, just like him.
Sam is terribly jealous and regrets giving him the candy.
*****
They're on a hunt, Dean is seventeen and Sam is thirteen. They trawl through the woods for hours, trying to find the sonavabitch forest creature that's been scaring the locals. They all swear it looks like a walking tree, and eats children. Sam jokes that he thinks it's an Ent; and Dean doesn't know what that is and doesn't much care as long as he gets to kill it.
John's away for the weekend, he promised to return from Bobby's on Monday with the car fixed up. Sam knows Dad's giving it to Dean, John had been eying a new truck, and Dean had been attached to the damn Impala ever since his feet could reach the pedals.
They trample through the thick brush until dawn, and then they decide to trudge back to the motel. Along the way Dean and Sam trip, simultaneously, and fall face down in a patch of leaves.
When they get back, Sam flops down on his bed, exhausted. He's got brambles in his hair and sap on his fingers and leaves on his jacket- but those can all wait until after he naps. He almost nods off before being interrupted by a shout.
Dean is in the bathroom having a panic attack. There are red blotches all over his face and he's clenching his teeth, trying not to scratch. Sam pulls a leaf off of his jacket and immediately surmises that he and Dean fell in a patch of poison ivy. He runs out to get hydrocortisone cream and instructs Dean to carefully take his clothes off and shower.
When Sam gets back Dean is sitting on his bed, still dripping wet and bouncing his knee. The redness is still there, and it's spread to his neck and chest. There's a towel barely wrapped around his waist and Sam gets flustered for a minute longer than he'd admit.
Dean looks up and smiles when Sam enters and says, "Thank god, I'm dying here Sammy."
Sam tosses the bag at Dean's head and mumbles an ineffectual "Don't call me Sammy."
"Nurse Sammy."
"Shut up, Dean." Sam says, turning away as Dean rubs the white goop all over his chest.
"Hey, how come you didn't get any-?" Dean begins, but shakes his head. "Never mind."
Sam peers at Dean, "Didn't get any what?"
"Forget about it."
"Say it, Dean." Sam pouts.
Dean sighs, "Things like this never happen to you."
"I can't help it that your skin is so sensitive and delicate. Like a girl."
Dean scowls and puts the cap back on the tube. He gives Sam a hard look and finally says, "When you were a baby, you had colic, right after Mom died. I haven't seen you get sick since."
Sam sits on his bed quietly and doesn't face Dean. He gives him the silent treatment when he tries to apologize. Dean shrugs his shoulders and goes to put on his clothes. They eventually catch a few hours of sleep. When Sam wakes up, Dean's face is still a red blotchy mess, with scratch marks he couldn't help leaving and he refuses to go outside. Sam waits for John to get back and they go kill the tree-monster.
Dean's face clears up and he gets the keys to the Impala the next week. Sam only starts talking to him again because Dean offers to chauffeur him to R-rated movies.
*****
Sam is fifteen when he figures it out. Why he can't breathe sometimes when he looks at Dean. His lungs hitch and his heart beats faster.
Dean tries to read his face, eyes scanning back and forth like over the pages of a book. Sam just stares up at him and gasps, in and out.
Part of the reason could be that Dean is practically sitting on his chest, having just knocked him over while they were sparring.
The other reason could be that Dean is nineteen now, and he has yet to figure out the concept of Sam's personal space. And in those nineteen years Dean has grown into the most beautiful man Sam has ever seen crouching above him.
So there's things to consider; like Dean's face, hovering right above his own. His is mouth inches away from Sam's, and his breath is warm against Sam's face.
"You okay?" Dean finally asks.
Sam catches his breath, finally, and murmurs an affirmative. Dean gets off of him and helps him up.
"You're not gonna be sick, are you?" He asks.
"No, why?" Sam turns away and starts to leave the room.
"You look pale, Sammy." Dean says as he turns to catch up with him.
"Must be something I ate," Sam quickens his pace and suddenly he's running, out of the motel, out of the parking lot, he just keeps running. Dean is giving chase but he's far behind him. A few moments later the ensuing footfalls stop and Sam he can hear his phone going off even through the wind is screaming in his ears. Dean's face appears in his mind's eye and he stops short.
Sam's hunched over, in the middle of a thicket near the highway, coughing and wheezing for breath and spitting on the ground. Five minutes later, Sam looks behind him, and Dean's caught up finally, yelling "Sammy!"
Sam lets Dean yell at him, lets Dean vent out any frustrations he's had all over him. When he's done, they walk back to the motel in silence.
Dean loses his voice for the rest of the day and glares daggers at Sam, who continues to mope quietly. He can't explain to Dean that he's not used to feeling sick.
*****
Dean hooks up with some girl in a dive bar in the middle of nowhere. When he gets Mono a month after that, Sam is furious for reasons he can't say.
He's pretty much babysitting Dean during the worst parts of the infection. Fetching him stuff, making sure he's comfortable. Every time he calls him 'Nurse Sammy' he twitches but reminds himself that Dean's in pain and there's a lot more to endure.
The fever is really bad one night, 101.5 degrees, and Sam's got all the windows open and cold compress on Dean's forehead. Dean is delirious, can barely focus on what's happening and his hand is firm on Sam's knee as his brother leans in closer. Under normal circumstances, such an action would send Sam into a sputtering fit, but he can't really worry about his attraction to Dean when he's too busy worrying about Dean.
So Sam stays awake all night drinking coffee and sitting by Dean's side while his brother drifts in and out of sleep. Sam listens to Dean mumble and babble and none of it makes sense and he wishes he could understand.
The next morning Dean is asleep, but the fever is at a manageable 99 degrees and falling. Sam lets himself fall into bed, setting his alarm for one hour of rest, just enough to recharge his batteries a bit.
When the alarm goes off, a hand that doesn't belong to him turns it off. He picks up his head slightly to see Dean lying on the bed next to him, picking at a bowl of cereal. He's watching old Saved By The Bell reruns.
"Whuh?" Sam tries to make his words form but he's just too exhausted.
"Go back to sleep, Sammy."
"Buh?"
"I said sleep, Sammy; I'm fine. Now shush, Kelly is about to do her little cheerleading thing." Dean smiles, "Always thought Jessie was hotter though, thank god for Showgirls..." And Sam nods off.
When Sam wakes up again, Dean is still in bed next to him, cross-legged, watching him. It's been hours and Sam feels rested but still groggy.
"It's not fair, Sammy; I'm the one who should be taking care of you. Not the other way around."
"S'okay Dean," Sam says pulling himself upright and stretching like a cat. "I don't mind."
"Yeah, well you should mind." Dean furrows his brow, "I would mind."
"No, you wouldn't." And Sam is still sleepy, so everything feels like a dream so when he crawls into Dean's lap, and there's no immediate panic on his part.
But Dean is freaking out; Sam can feel his heart beat faster through Dean's thin t-shirt. Sam's arms are around his neck and he pulls Dean closer to his mouth.
"Sam, what are you-? You shouldn't..."
Sam does anyway, crushes their mouths together and Dean sputters through his lips but latches on anyway. Sam's mouth is dry; but Dean's is wet and tastes like medicine mixed with orange juice. It should be disgusting but Sam doesn't care. When he pulls back, Dean's eyes are wide and confused and Sam shrugs.
"Don't worry, Dean. I don't get sick." And it wasn't what Dean meant at all, but he also doesn't care anymore.
Dean gets better but is still feeling a general sense of fatigue, which is a common aftereffect. Sam doesn't mind staying in bed with him.
*****
The Yellow-Eyed Demon is nothing more than a smoldering pile of ash on hallowed ground. In a Devil's trap, surrounded by seven circles of salt. After being exorcised back to the lowest level of hell by seven priests, four hoodoo magicians, three Kabbalist rabbis, two Shamans, six psychics and one Gnostic minister.
So, it's pretty much as dead as it can get. The Winchester brothers are free to drive off into the sunset like the heroes they have become. A lifelong burden has been lifted off their shoulders. There's a sense of accomplishment, of finality, and Dean smiles and tosses his flask out of the car window with his good arm. They laugh and head for the nearest town.
Three days later, Sam catches his first cold.
He couldn't be happier.
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13 for adult situations and implied wincesty touchings
Word Count: 2,354
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Everything is mine, and then I wake up.
Summary: Throughout the years, Dean (like any other child) got sick. And Sam didn't.
When Dean was eight years old, he got the chicken pox.
Sam doesn't remember it that well, but Dean crows about how high his fever got, how he almost died (though Sam suspects Dean is embellishing a little). Dean also brags about how he got a whole week off of school.
What he doesn't mention is that he spent most of that week in a bathtub full of oatmeal and calamine lotion, wishing he could tear his skin off. Sam dutifully kept him company by driving his toy truck along the side of the tub and making *vroom* sounds.
When Sam is nine, chicken pox breaks out in his classroom, and John sends him to school regardless.
"It's better that he gets it when he's young, it's much worse when you're older, Dean." He tries to explain to his eldest, who secretly smiles at the thought of Sammy covered in little red spots. Dean wants him to get it soon so he can play connect-the-dots with markers.
Two weeks later, it is clear that Sam hasn't shown a single symptom, even though he was over at Billy Huffman's house-twice. And all seven of the Huffman children have it.
When Sam is twelve the doctor shakes his head and gives him the vaccine, explaining that not all kids get chicken pox. Sam pouts because he won't get a week off of school, but Dean is suspicious.
*****
Dean caught a nasty stomach bug when he was ten. John stopped in the middle of driving cross-country to turn around and head back to Pastor Jim's. Dean couldn't keep any kind of food down and the car ride is torture. He sat in back by himself and Sam rode shotgun, covering his ears whenever Dean started retching.
They make it to Jim's in record time; but after being in close quarters with Dean for a day, John is looking green.
Jim confines the both of them to bed-rest and daytime TV. Dean and John eat nothing but saltines and drink ginger ale. Sam whines that he wants soda too, and without thinking he drinks from Dean's cup. John is too weak to reprimand him so Jim pulls him aside and explains to Sam about germs and being contagious.
The next day Sam is fine, Dean is bedridden but keeping down non-cracker-type solids, and John has enough strength to flip through the papers, hoping the Jersey Devil's trail doesn't go cold.
Jim washes his hands constantly and covers his mouth when any of the boys cough, but it's no use. By the end of the day he's as sick as the both of them.
Sam's pretty much got the run of the place to himself, except he doesn't do much but play cards with Dean and refill soda glasses. He takes a bath with his trucks in the holy water fountain; John loses it when Dean tells, and he ends up with his face in the toilet, reprimanding Sam in-between dry heaves.
When the bug passes, John sends Sam and Dean to wait in the car while he talks quietly with Jim. From the car, Dean carefully watches his father and Jim while Sam plays with his seatbelt. The two men nod a lot and mouth Sam's name every so often and John rubs his face in frustration.
*****
Dean was never fond of the ocean to begin with, and when he tries shrimp for the first time at age twelve, his throat closes up.
When he wakes up in the hospital John and Sam are there; and there's also an immunologist there who explains to Dean that he's terribly allergic to shellfish. She tells him about the foods he should avoid, what to do if he thinks he's been exposed, what the EpiPen is for.
When she leaves, John sits down on the bed and pats Dean on the head. Sam offers him the last of his gummy worms. Dean chews carefully, and John smiles and tells him his mother was also allergic, just like him.
Sam is terribly jealous and regrets giving him the candy.
*****
They're on a hunt, Dean is seventeen and Sam is thirteen. They trawl through the woods for hours, trying to find the sonavabitch forest creature that's been scaring the locals. They all swear it looks like a walking tree, and eats children. Sam jokes that he thinks it's an Ent; and Dean doesn't know what that is and doesn't much care as long as he gets to kill it.
John's away for the weekend, he promised to return from Bobby's on Monday with the car fixed up. Sam knows Dad's giving it to Dean, John had been eying a new truck, and Dean had been attached to the damn Impala ever since his feet could reach the pedals.
They trample through the thick brush until dawn, and then they decide to trudge back to the motel. Along the way Dean and Sam trip, simultaneously, and fall face down in a patch of leaves.
When they get back, Sam flops down on his bed, exhausted. He's got brambles in his hair and sap on his fingers and leaves on his jacket- but those can all wait until after he naps. He almost nods off before being interrupted by a shout.
Dean is in the bathroom having a panic attack. There are red blotches all over his face and he's clenching his teeth, trying not to scratch. Sam pulls a leaf off of his jacket and immediately surmises that he and Dean fell in a patch of poison ivy. He runs out to get hydrocortisone cream and instructs Dean to carefully take his clothes off and shower.
When Sam gets back Dean is sitting on his bed, still dripping wet and bouncing his knee. The redness is still there, and it's spread to his neck and chest. There's a towel barely wrapped around his waist and Sam gets flustered for a minute longer than he'd admit.
Dean looks up and smiles when Sam enters and says, "Thank god, I'm dying here Sammy."
Sam tosses the bag at Dean's head and mumbles an ineffectual "Don't call me Sammy."
"Nurse Sammy."
"Shut up, Dean." Sam says, turning away as Dean rubs the white goop all over his chest.
"Hey, how come you didn't get any-?" Dean begins, but shakes his head. "Never mind."
Sam peers at Dean, "Didn't get any what?"
"Forget about it."
"Say it, Dean." Sam pouts.
Dean sighs, "Things like this never happen to you."
"I can't help it that your skin is so sensitive and delicate. Like a girl."
Dean scowls and puts the cap back on the tube. He gives Sam a hard look and finally says, "When you were a baby, you had colic, right after Mom died. I haven't seen you get sick since."
Sam sits on his bed quietly and doesn't face Dean. He gives him the silent treatment when he tries to apologize. Dean shrugs his shoulders and goes to put on his clothes. They eventually catch a few hours of sleep. When Sam wakes up, Dean's face is still a red blotchy mess, with scratch marks he couldn't help leaving and he refuses to go outside. Sam waits for John to get back and they go kill the tree-monster.
Dean's face clears up and he gets the keys to the Impala the next week. Sam only starts talking to him again because Dean offers to chauffeur him to R-rated movies.
*****
Sam is fifteen when he figures it out. Why he can't breathe sometimes when he looks at Dean. His lungs hitch and his heart beats faster.
Dean tries to read his face, eyes scanning back and forth like over the pages of a book. Sam just stares up at him and gasps, in and out.
Part of the reason could be that Dean is practically sitting on his chest, having just knocked him over while they were sparring.
The other reason could be that Dean is nineteen now, and he has yet to figure out the concept of Sam's personal space. And in those nineteen years Dean has grown into the most beautiful man Sam has ever seen crouching above him.
So there's things to consider; like Dean's face, hovering right above his own. His is mouth inches away from Sam's, and his breath is warm against Sam's face.
"You okay?" Dean finally asks.
Sam catches his breath, finally, and murmurs an affirmative. Dean gets off of him and helps him up.
"You're not gonna be sick, are you?" He asks.
"No, why?" Sam turns away and starts to leave the room.
"You look pale, Sammy." Dean says as he turns to catch up with him.
"Must be something I ate," Sam quickens his pace and suddenly he's running, out of the motel, out of the parking lot, he just keeps running. Dean is giving chase but he's far behind him. A few moments later the ensuing footfalls stop and Sam he can hear his phone going off even through the wind is screaming in his ears. Dean's face appears in his mind's eye and he stops short.
Sam's hunched over, in the middle of a thicket near the highway, coughing and wheezing for breath and spitting on the ground. Five minutes later, Sam looks behind him, and Dean's caught up finally, yelling "Sammy!"
Sam lets Dean yell at him, lets Dean vent out any frustrations he's had all over him. When he's done, they walk back to the motel in silence.
Dean loses his voice for the rest of the day and glares daggers at Sam, who continues to mope quietly. He can't explain to Dean that he's not used to feeling sick.
*****
Dean hooks up with some girl in a dive bar in the middle of nowhere. When he gets Mono a month after that, Sam is furious for reasons he can't say.
He's pretty much babysitting Dean during the worst parts of the infection. Fetching him stuff, making sure he's comfortable. Every time he calls him 'Nurse Sammy' he twitches but reminds himself that Dean's in pain and there's a lot more to endure.
The fever is really bad one night, 101.5 degrees, and Sam's got all the windows open and cold compress on Dean's forehead. Dean is delirious, can barely focus on what's happening and his hand is firm on Sam's knee as his brother leans in closer. Under normal circumstances, such an action would send Sam into a sputtering fit, but he can't really worry about his attraction to Dean when he's too busy worrying about Dean.
So Sam stays awake all night drinking coffee and sitting by Dean's side while his brother drifts in and out of sleep. Sam listens to Dean mumble and babble and none of it makes sense and he wishes he could understand.
The next morning Dean is asleep, but the fever is at a manageable 99 degrees and falling. Sam lets himself fall into bed, setting his alarm for one hour of rest, just enough to recharge his batteries a bit.
When the alarm goes off, a hand that doesn't belong to him turns it off. He picks up his head slightly to see Dean lying on the bed next to him, picking at a bowl of cereal. He's watching old Saved By The Bell reruns.
"Whuh?" Sam tries to make his words form but he's just too exhausted.
"Go back to sleep, Sammy."
"Buh?"
"I said sleep, Sammy; I'm fine. Now shush, Kelly is about to do her little cheerleading thing." Dean smiles, "Always thought Jessie was hotter though, thank god for Showgirls..." And Sam nods off.
When Sam wakes up again, Dean is still in bed next to him, cross-legged, watching him. It's been hours and Sam feels rested but still groggy.
"It's not fair, Sammy; I'm the one who should be taking care of you. Not the other way around."
"S'okay Dean," Sam says pulling himself upright and stretching like a cat. "I don't mind."
"Yeah, well you should mind." Dean furrows his brow, "I would mind."
"No, you wouldn't." And Sam is still sleepy, so everything feels like a dream so when he crawls into Dean's lap, and there's no immediate panic on his part.
But Dean is freaking out; Sam can feel his heart beat faster through Dean's thin t-shirt. Sam's arms are around his neck and he pulls Dean closer to his mouth.
"Sam, what are you-? You shouldn't..."
Sam does anyway, crushes their mouths together and Dean sputters through his lips but latches on anyway. Sam's mouth is dry; but Dean's is wet and tastes like medicine mixed with orange juice. It should be disgusting but Sam doesn't care. When he pulls back, Dean's eyes are wide and confused and Sam shrugs.
"Don't worry, Dean. I don't get sick." And it wasn't what Dean meant at all, but he also doesn't care anymore.
Dean gets better but is still feeling a general sense of fatigue, which is a common aftereffect. Sam doesn't mind staying in bed with him.
*****
The Yellow-Eyed Demon is nothing more than a smoldering pile of ash on hallowed ground. In a Devil's trap, surrounded by seven circles of salt. After being exorcised back to the lowest level of hell by seven priests, four hoodoo magicians, three Kabbalist rabbis, two Shamans, six psychics and one Gnostic minister.
So, it's pretty much as dead as it can get. The Winchester brothers are free to drive off into the sunset like the heroes they have become. A lifelong burden has been lifted off their shoulders. There's a sense of accomplishment, of finality, and Dean smiles and tosses his flask out of the car window with his good arm. They laugh and head for the nearest town.
Three days later, Sam catches his first cold.
He couldn't be happier.