Sammy's Sunburn
Title: Sammy's Sunburn
Author: yami_faerie
Rating: PG (mild swearing again)
Genre/pairing: sorta-casefic h/c, gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word count: 600-ish
Summary: From 27_jaredjensen's prompt on the sneezy-Sam meme: "sneezy Sam’s nose gets sunburned". That is all.
Disclaimer: Not mine, thanks for asking.
Tennessee in July is humid and gross. Sam’s allergies never do well in the south during the summer months (except for Florida; Sam’s allergies never do well there ever), but Bobby says there’s a vengeful spirit causing accidents in Memphis, so away they go.
It’s this gradual progression that Dean knows every step of. First Sam starts rubbing his nose, then he starts sniffling, then his eyes get red and teary, then there’s a little congestion followed by -
”Ha’CHHHOO!”
Sneezing. And it doesn’t stop.
At least Dean stocked up on tissues (like, seven boxes) before they drove this way. Dean is good at being prepared. Dean could’ve been a fucking boy scout, he’s that awesome.
“Ugh,” Sam groans as they cross the Mississippi River. “I hate summer.”
“Southern summers hate you too, Sammy,” Dean replies cheerfully. “Here, have another box of tissues.”
“Thanks,” Sam mutters and then he starts sneezing again, several little ones in quick succession that he follows up with a loud trumpeting noise as he blows his nose.
Dean grimaces and keeps on driving.
***
All the attacks are happening at one of the older parks in the city, and the spirit seems indiscriminate about what time of day it does its thing. Dean finds a place to park and then he and Sam head over to sit themselves down near the spot where the majority of the attacks have happened. There’s a bunch of old tables with chessboards imbedded into them, and there’s a few old men playing chess nearby. Dean opens the local paper and settles down with his sunglasses in a relatively shady spot. Sam sits opposite him where there’s mostly sun and starts going through all the information Bobby gave them, chatting away to Dean between sneezes.
“We should play a game,” Sam says twenty minutes later.
“I hate chess,” Dean replies (and no, it has nothing to do with the fact that Sam always wins, nothing at all).
Sam sighs, sneezes some more and slumps in his seat. They don’t really talk for the next five hours.
Finally, Dean’s stomach starts complaining enough that he decides they should go get some food and crash for the rest of the day. They can come back tomorrow, interview witness, all that jazz. Sam’s sneezing hasn’t slowed down at all, and it’s making him cranky.
“It’s okay, Grumpy,” Dean says as they pull through the first drive-through of a fast food place they can both agree on, “we’ll find somewhere with a working A/C and all that good stuff.”
Sam just sneezes some more and rubs at his nose. “Ow,” he whines. “It hurts, Dean.”
Dean hands over a credit card at the window and turns to look at Sam. “Your nose is kinda red,” he observes.
Sam bitchfaces and rubs his nose again, giving another pained whine. Dean rolls his eyes and slaps Sam’s hands away from his face. “Stop rubbing it and it won’t hurt, Sammy, Jesus.”
Sam blows his nose and whines some more. Dean gets his card and their food and then he’s off the find a decent-looking motel, telling Sam every minute or so to just leave his fucking nose alone already.
They check into a non-smoking room, and when Sam enters the room, Dean finally gets a good look at his brother’s face.
“Sammy,” he sighs, “you got a sunburn there.”
“Wha-CHOO! Blech, sorry, what?”
Dean could kill his kid, he’s so fucking oblivious sometimes. Grabbing Sam by his sleeve, he drags him over to the bathroom, flips the light on and says, “Sunburn. You with me, now?”
Sam blinks at his reflection and sneezes again. “My nose is sunburned, Dean,” he says unhappily.
“Yeah,” Dean says sarcastically. “Never woulda guessed.”
“Jerk,” Sam mumbles before he sneezes some more. “Ugh, it’s so painful.” He reaches up to rub it again and Dean grabs his arm.
“The more you touch it, the more it hurts, Sam, how did you get a full-ride to Stanford, seriously?”
Sam just lets loose another string of sneezes mingled with moaning and whining. Christ, this fucking kid, what is Dean ever going to do with him?
"He'CHHUUH! Ow..."
END
Author: yami_faerie
Rating: PG (mild swearing again)
Genre/pairing: sorta-casefic h/c, gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word count: 600-ish
Summary: From 27_jaredjensen's prompt on the sneezy-Sam meme: "sneezy Sam’s nose gets sunburned". That is all.
Disclaimer: Not mine, thanks for asking.
Tennessee in July is humid and gross. Sam’s allergies never do well in the south during the summer months (except for Florida; Sam’s allergies never do well there ever), but Bobby says there’s a vengeful spirit causing accidents in Memphis, so away they go.
It’s this gradual progression that Dean knows every step of. First Sam starts rubbing his nose, then he starts sniffling, then his eyes get red and teary, then there’s a little congestion followed by -
”Ha’CHHHOO!”
Sneezing. And it doesn’t stop.
At least Dean stocked up on tissues (like, seven boxes) before they drove this way. Dean is good at being prepared. Dean could’ve been a fucking boy scout, he’s that awesome.
“Ugh,” Sam groans as they cross the Mississippi River. “I hate summer.”
“Southern summers hate you too, Sammy,” Dean replies cheerfully. “Here, have another box of tissues.”
“Thanks,” Sam mutters and then he starts sneezing again, several little ones in quick succession that he follows up with a loud trumpeting noise as he blows his nose.
Dean grimaces and keeps on driving.
***
All the attacks are happening at one of the older parks in the city, and the spirit seems indiscriminate about what time of day it does its thing. Dean finds a place to park and then he and Sam head over to sit themselves down near the spot where the majority of the attacks have happened. There’s a bunch of old tables with chessboards imbedded into them, and there’s a few old men playing chess nearby. Dean opens the local paper and settles down with his sunglasses in a relatively shady spot. Sam sits opposite him where there’s mostly sun and starts going through all the information Bobby gave them, chatting away to Dean between sneezes.
“We should play a game,” Sam says twenty minutes later.
“I hate chess,” Dean replies (and no, it has nothing to do with the fact that Sam always wins, nothing at all).
Sam sighs, sneezes some more and slumps in his seat. They don’t really talk for the next five hours.
Finally, Dean’s stomach starts complaining enough that he decides they should go get some food and crash for the rest of the day. They can come back tomorrow, interview witness, all that jazz. Sam’s sneezing hasn’t slowed down at all, and it’s making him cranky.
“It’s okay, Grumpy,” Dean says as they pull through the first drive-through of a fast food place they can both agree on, “we’ll find somewhere with a working A/C and all that good stuff.”
Sam just sneezes some more and rubs at his nose. “Ow,” he whines. “It hurts, Dean.”
Dean hands over a credit card at the window and turns to look at Sam. “Your nose is kinda red,” he observes.
Sam bitchfaces and rubs his nose again, giving another pained whine. Dean rolls his eyes and slaps Sam’s hands away from his face. “Stop rubbing it and it won’t hurt, Sammy, Jesus.”
Sam blows his nose and whines some more. Dean gets his card and their food and then he’s off the find a decent-looking motel, telling Sam every minute or so to just leave his fucking nose alone already.
They check into a non-smoking room, and when Sam enters the room, Dean finally gets a good look at his brother’s face.
“Sammy,” he sighs, “you got a sunburn there.”
“Wha-CHOO! Blech, sorry, what?”
Dean could kill his kid, he’s so fucking oblivious sometimes. Grabbing Sam by his sleeve, he drags him over to the bathroom, flips the light on and says, “Sunburn. You with me, now?”
Sam blinks at his reflection and sneezes again. “My nose is sunburned, Dean,” he says unhappily.
“Yeah,” Dean says sarcastically. “Never woulda guessed.”
“Jerk,” Sam mumbles before he sneezes some more. “Ugh, it’s so painful.” He reaches up to rub it again and Dean grabs his arm.
“The more you touch it, the more it hurts, Sam, how did you get a full-ride to Stanford, seriously?”
Sam just lets loose another string of sneezes mingled with moaning and whining. Christ, this fucking kid, what is Dean ever going to do with him?
"He'CHHUUH! Ow..."
END