Sen Beret's Anniversary Meme!

[senberet]

It's actually been a year and two months since I became involved with the fandom, but hey, who's counting?

Masterlist

rules

• comment on this post with your prompts! all prompts are welcome (be as vague or detailed as you'd like!) as long as they fit with the theme of sneezy/sick/allergic Sam, Dean, Castiel, John, etc.
• reply to prompts with your

Comments

FILLED: Cure From The East (1/6)

[anilkex1]

As Sam lay on his brick of a mattress, he knew he was in trouble. Not big trouble, but trouble nonetheless. His throat was scratchy and he had a headache that started behind his eyes and traveled into parts of his head he wasn’t used to feeling. He did the math, and remembered the freaked out mom at the grocery store the other day with those screaming kids, who all had runny, disgusting noses, touching everything and anything...including his hand and cart as one of them ran by.

He sighed, knowing that Dean was going to be a bitch about this. (“The triiiiiiiials, Sammy...you’re too tiiiiiiired...take it eeeeeeasy…”) Sam rolled his eyes. The trials were like, eons ago, Dean, get over it. I’m fine.

Still, he was starting to feel crappy...but he was confident that a couple Tylenol and a lot of water would take care of it. He had research to do, and since Dean was no help in that department whatsoever, his load was a little heavier than normal.

He groaned and got out of bed, making his way down the cold hallway and into the kitchen where his brother was already making breakfast, clad in his fluffy gray bathrobe and slippers. Sam suppressed a laugh at the sight - he never thought he’d see Dean this domestic.

Then again, he never thought he’d see Dean relaxed.

“Morning, Princess. Hungry?”

Sam swallowed and almost...almost...grimaced at the sharp pain in his throat, but caught himself at the last second. “Um...yeah...a little.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam and pointed the spatula at him, splattering bits of scrambled eggs everywhere. “Your voice sounds funny...you comin’ down with something?”

How the fuck….Sam blinked at him. “I just woke up, Dean. Gimmie a break…”

Dean just grunted, and turned back to the stove. “Grab some juice and sit down. Eggs’ll be done in a minute.”

Sam would have laughed outright at that point, but he was afraid to make a sound. If Dean got suspicious after four words, he needed to be careful. He poured himself some juice and sat at the table, waiting, like a good little brother.

Kevin shuffled in, yawning and scratching his head. His hair stuck out in every direction possible and his eyes were barely open. He mumbled what vaguely sounded like ‘gudmrng’ and slumped into a chair.

“You look chipper,” Sam commented, sipping his juice and wincing as the acidic liquid burned his throat.

“Yeah? You’d look fucking chipper, too, if you were up all night translating some stupid dead language off a stupid hunk of rock. And you look like shit anyway, so shut up.”

Dean turned around and gently cuffed Kevin on the head. “Stand down, Prophet-boy. Eat some eggs. You’ll feel better.”

Dean placed two plates full of steaming eggs and bacon on the table, and stood waiting with his arms crossed.

Sam and Kevin timidly looked up at Dean as they picked up their forks. “Um...why are you staring at us?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed in exasperation. “I want to know if it tastes okay. I tried something new...and…” his voice trailed off as Sam and Kevin just stared at him.

Kevin deadpanned, “The mighty hunter has fallen.”

Sam added, “...And turned into Julia Child.”

“Fuck you both. Eat.” Dean grabbed his own plate and sat down.

Kevin snickered and practically attacked the food, telling Dean that the eggs were awesome as Dean nodded in agreement, trying not to look too pleased with himself. Sam tried to eat - he really did. It tasted great...at least he was sure it did. But his head was killing him (shit...the Tylenol’s in the bathroom…) and his throat was not cooperating. He ended up moving the food around more than actually putting it in his mouth.

Dean eyed Sam quietly as he shoved the eggs in his mouth (they were fucking amazing...he admitted to himself...). He could tell something was off with his brother, and that Sam wasn’t ready to admit it. He was all too familiar with this game, and could play it all day if necessary. He just knew he had to be careful, though, given that Sam was living off Angel Prozac right now, and and the last thing he wanted to do was send Sam into a tizzy and force Zeke to heal him more than he already is.

Or...more than Dean assumes he already is.

He sighed and went back to his breakfast.