God Bless You
It started with a sneeze.
One lonely, solitary sneeze that Dean raised an eyebrow at, offering a half-hearted 'gesundheit', and then immediately forgot about when, two seconds later, he narrowly avoided having his head taken off by a very pissed off ghost with a plate collection.
The next day, when it became apparent that - for the second time since they'd taken this godforsaken case - they'd burnt the wrong item in her house, Sam had headed to the library before Dean had even choked his first cup of coffee down his neck. He liked to think that was how he'd missed the signs.
Of course, that didn't make him feel any better when, two days later, he opened his eyes from a great dream involving the Impala and pie, and was confronted with an entirely miserable-looking Sam.
"What the..." He dragged himself upright, blinking dumbly at the sorry sight that was his younger brother. The Sam's hair was sticking up in every direction under the sun, and swaddled in the thickest jumper he owned and the motel duvet, he looked more like a little kid than he had in years. His nose was an angry red, and the motel bed was dotted with used tissues, which Sam was tugging one-by-one from a box resting in his lap. "Sammy?"
The youngest Winchester blinked, forcing a smile onto his face.
"Dean," He smiled. "I hope I didn't wake - aahNUHH'PTCHUH."
"God Bless you."
Dean yelped in a somewhat unmanly fashion, spinning around to find Castiel standing behind him, eyes locked on Sam as if the angel was just waiting for the next sneeze to spill out of him.
"Cas!" He snapped, slamming a hand down on his mattress in frustration. "Warn a guy before you beam in from nowhere, for god sakes!"
Cas frowned. "I have been here for quite some time, Dean."
Dean turned his disbelieving eyes to his brother, and Sam nodded sagely, eyes looking impossibly wide in his pale face.
"He has," He agreed, and broke off almost instantly into three consecutive sneezes that rattled his bed with impressive force.
"AaaahSHCYEW! UHHSTEW! KERR'STHUH!"
"God bless you," Castiel offered. "God bless you. God bless you."
Sam groaned. "He does that ebery time."
"It is an ancient tradition to bless somebody after they sneeze." Cas informed them dutifully. "Many people believe that it stops the devil from claiming your soul. I would not wish for that to happen to you, Sam."
"KERR'AHHCHEW!"
"God bless you."
Dean, neck aching from following their conversation like a tennis exchange, figured that this was probably the right time to drag himself out of bed and hunt down the cold medicine in their med kit.
"AHHH'CHEW! KERRR'AHYEW! AaaahSHCYEW!"
"God bless you. God bless you. God bless you."
Dean got the feeling that it was going to be a long day.
**
Dean had, somewhat naively, hoped that Sam's sneezing might cut down at least a little once he had meds in his system. Unfortunately for all of them, that didn't seem to be the case. In fact, all the meds seemed to have done for him was make him more sleepy than he'd been before... which only served to make him more frustrated that his incessant sneezing was keeping him awake.
Dean couldn't help but feel bad for the kid.
He was pretty sure that no other human on the planet could quite pull off the 'kicked puppy' look quite like his brother could, and despite his best defence (which was basically refusing to look Sam in the eyes for the first two hours he was awake), he eventually found himself camping out on the kid's bed right next to him.
"If you give me your cold," Dean threatened, though he was pretty sure that everyone in the room knew that he was incapable of meaning it. "I'll kill you."
Sam blinked tiredly up at him, resting on his side with his head in Dean's lap, a handful of tissues clenched white-knuckled just under his nose.
"M'sorry," Sam croaked, and god but the latest addition to the pity parade - a croaky voice and sore throat - was not making it any easier for Dean to stop himself turning into a frantic mother hen. "I'll just sleep it off, and then - aaaah'CHEW!"
"God bless you."
Dean narrowly prevented himself from slamming his head back against the headboard.
Castiel, despite Dean's insistences that he really must have something better to do, had settled himself into one of the rickety motel chairs across the room, and his attention was focused entirely on Sam. He hadn't missed a single sneeze in the entire time that Dean had been awake, and the eldest Winchester didn't even want to consider how long he'd been hanging around before then.
Sam groaned miserably, blowing his nose as hard as he could, before exchanging his handful of tissues for a fresh lot. Dean rolled his eyes, gingerly lifting the used tissues by the corner, and dropped them into the trash can that he'd positioned next to the bed for just this reason.
Back to the Future was playing on the TV, but the volume was low enough that the sound was continually lost beneath the force of Sam's sneezes, and Dean couldn't really pay attention to the adventures of Marty McFly with a sick little brother in his lap anyway.
Sam, despite having the cold from hell, seemed content enough. Honestly, that didn't really surprise Dean - the kid had always loved having his big brother's attention.
The kid snuffled quietly into his tissues, eyes more closed than they were open, and just when Dean thought that Sam might just manage to drift off, he startled himself back into wakefulness.
"aahNUHH'PTCHYEW! NCH'AHH!"
Predictably, the sneezes were almost instantly followed by Cas's voice.
"God bless you. God bless you."
It was then that Dean came to the startling revelation that, if he didn't do something soon, he might just kill the angel once and for all.
"Cas," He said tersely.
"KERRR'CHEW!"
"God bless you."
"For gods sakes!" Dean snapped. "Cas, would you please stop saying that every single time? It's really not necessary."
Castiel frowned, apparently unhappy with this suggestion.
"I do not understand," He said quietly. "I merely wish to prevent Lucifer from claiming your brother's soul. Is that not the proper thing to do?"
"Well," Dean floundered. "Technically, yes, but not every time he sneezes! Seriously, I'm pretty sure that Lucifer doesn't get a free soul everytime someone sneezes when they're by themselves! It's total crap."
The laugh that escaped Sam sounded suspiciously like a giggle, but Dean was on a roll.
"You're supposed to say it because it's polite. Not because of some stupid superstition!"
"Dean," Cas said patiently. "Have you forgotten that you hunt all manner of supernatural creatures? Superstition is the foundation of your lives."
Dean actually did slam his head back against the bed's wooden headboard then.
"Okay, how about this," He snapped. "If you don't stop saying it every time, I'll kill you."
Cas blinked.
"Kill me?"
Dean nodded sagely. "I'm sorry, but that is the most annoying thing on the planet, and I'm only human."
"But," Cas protested. "We're friends."
"I know. And that's why I'm giving you a choice. Either shut up, or leave. Right now."
The angel frowned, but dutifully pressed his lips together in a firm line, and Dean heaved a sigh of relief, resting back against the headboard. It was only then that he noticed the lack of sneezes, and turned his head to look at his brother.
In his lap, Sam was breathing deeply and evenly, fast asleep.
A/N: This was just a five minute fill for the super-sneezy meme over on tarotgal's page. If anyone likes sneezy boys, I highly recommend that you head on over there! You won't be dissapointed! Full credit for the wonderful idea of this story goes to the wonderfully-minded verucasalt123.
Prompt: Sam has a terrible cold and can't stop sneezing. Dean is hovering so he can take care of his sick baby brother, and Castiel compulsively God Bless You's every single sneeze until somebody loses their patience.
One lonely, solitary sneeze that Dean raised an eyebrow at, offering a half-hearted 'gesundheit', and then immediately forgot about when, two seconds later, he narrowly avoided having his head taken off by a very pissed off ghost with a plate collection.
The next day, when it became apparent that - for the second time since they'd taken this godforsaken case - they'd burnt the wrong item in her house, Sam had headed to the library before Dean had even choked his first cup of coffee down his neck. He liked to think that was how he'd missed the signs.
Of course, that didn't make him feel any better when, two days later, he opened his eyes from a great dream involving the Impala and pie, and was confronted with an entirely miserable-looking Sam.
"What the..." He dragged himself upright, blinking dumbly at the sorry sight that was his younger brother. The Sam's hair was sticking up in every direction under the sun, and swaddled in the thickest jumper he owned and the motel duvet, he looked more like a little kid than he had in years. His nose was an angry red, and the motel bed was dotted with used tissues, which Sam was tugging one-by-one from a box resting in his lap. "Sammy?"
The youngest Winchester blinked, forcing a smile onto his face.
"Dean," He smiled. "I hope I didn't wake - aahNUHH'PTCHUH."
"God Bless you."
Dean yelped in a somewhat unmanly fashion, spinning around to find Castiel standing behind him, eyes locked on Sam as if the angel was just waiting for the next sneeze to spill out of him.
"Cas!" He snapped, slamming a hand down on his mattress in frustration. "Warn a guy before you beam in from nowhere, for god sakes!"
Cas frowned. "I have been here for quite some time, Dean."
Dean turned his disbelieving eyes to his brother, and Sam nodded sagely, eyes looking impossibly wide in his pale face.
"He has," He agreed, and broke off almost instantly into three consecutive sneezes that rattled his bed with impressive force.
"AaaahSHCYEW! UHHSTEW! KERR'STHUH!"
"God bless you," Castiel offered. "God bless you. God bless you."
Sam groaned. "He does that ebery time."
"It is an ancient tradition to bless somebody after they sneeze." Cas informed them dutifully. "Many people believe that it stops the devil from claiming your soul. I would not wish for that to happen to you, Sam."
"KERR'AHHCHEW!"
"God bless you."
Dean, neck aching from following their conversation like a tennis exchange, figured that this was probably the right time to drag himself out of bed and hunt down the cold medicine in their med kit.
"AHHH'CHEW! KERRR'AHYEW! AaaahSHCYEW!"
"God bless you. God bless you. God bless you."
Dean got the feeling that it was going to be a long day.
**
Dean had, somewhat naively, hoped that Sam's sneezing might cut down at least a little once he had meds in his system. Unfortunately for all of them, that didn't seem to be the case. In fact, all the meds seemed to have done for him was make him more sleepy than he'd been before... which only served to make him more frustrated that his incessant sneezing was keeping him awake.
Dean couldn't help but feel bad for the kid.
He was pretty sure that no other human on the planet could quite pull off the 'kicked puppy' look quite like his brother could, and despite his best defence (which was basically refusing to look Sam in the eyes for the first two hours he was awake), he eventually found himself camping out on the kid's bed right next to him.
"If you give me your cold," Dean threatened, though he was pretty sure that everyone in the room knew that he was incapable of meaning it. "I'll kill you."
Sam blinked tiredly up at him, resting on his side with his head in Dean's lap, a handful of tissues clenched white-knuckled just under his nose.
"M'sorry," Sam croaked, and god but the latest addition to the pity parade - a croaky voice and sore throat - was not making it any easier for Dean to stop himself turning into a frantic mother hen. "I'll just sleep it off, and then - aaaah'CHEW!"
"God bless you."
Dean narrowly prevented himself from slamming his head back against the headboard.
Castiel, despite Dean's insistences that he really must have something better to do, had settled himself into one of the rickety motel chairs across the room, and his attention was focused entirely on Sam. He hadn't missed a single sneeze in the entire time that Dean had been awake, and the eldest Winchester didn't even want to consider how long he'd been hanging around before then.
Sam groaned miserably, blowing his nose as hard as he could, before exchanging his handful of tissues for a fresh lot. Dean rolled his eyes, gingerly lifting the used tissues by the corner, and dropped them into the trash can that he'd positioned next to the bed for just this reason.
Back to the Future was playing on the TV, but the volume was low enough that the sound was continually lost beneath the force of Sam's sneezes, and Dean couldn't really pay attention to the adventures of Marty McFly with a sick little brother in his lap anyway.
Sam, despite having the cold from hell, seemed content enough. Honestly, that didn't really surprise Dean - the kid had always loved having his big brother's attention.
The kid snuffled quietly into his tissues, eyes more closed than they were open, and just when Dean thought that Sam might just manage to drift off, he startled himself back into wakefulness.
"aahNUHH'PTCHYEW! NCH'AHH!"
Predictably, the sneezes were almost instantly followed by Cas's voice.
"God bless you. God bless you."
It was then that Dean came to the startling revelation that, if he didn't do something soon, he might just kill the angel once and for all.
"Cas," He said tersely.
"KERRR'CHEW!"
"God bless you."
"For gods sakes!" Dean snapped. "Cas, would you please stop saying that every single time? It's really not necessary."
Castiel frowned, apparently unhappy with this suggestion.
"I do not understand," He said quietly. "I merely wish to prevent Lucifer from claiming your brother's soul. Is that not the proper thing to do?"
"Well," Dean floundered. "Technically, yes, but not every time he sneezes! Seriously, I'm pretty sure that Lucifer doesn't get a free soul everytime someone sneezes when they're by themselves! It's total crap."
The laugh that escaped Sam sounded suspiciously like a giggle, but Dean was on a roll.
"You're supposed to say it because it's polite. Not because of some stupid superstition!"
"Dean," Cas said patiently. "Have you forgotten that you hunt all manner of supernatural creatures? Superstition is the foundation of your lives."
Dean actually did slam his head back against the bed's wooden headboard then.
"Okay, how about this," He snapped. "If you don't stop saying it every time, I'll kill you."
Cas blinked.
"Kill me?"
Dean nodded sagely. "I'm sorry, but that is the most annoying thing on the planet, and I'm only human."
"But," Cas protested. "We're friends."
"I know. And that's why I'm giving you a choice. Either shut up, or leave. Right now."
The angel frowned, but dutifully pressed his lips together in a firm line, and Dean heaved a sigh of relief, resting back against the headboard. It was only then that he noticed the lack of sneezes, and turned his head to look at his brother.
In his lap, Sam was breathing deeply and evenly, fast asleep.
A/N: This was just a five minute fill for the super-sneezy meme over on tarotgal's page. If anyone likes sneezy boys, I highly recommend that you head on over there! You won't be dissapointed! Full credit for the wonderful idea of this story goes to the wonderfully-minded verucasalt123.
Prompt: Sam has a terrible cold and can't stop sneezing. Dean is hovering so he can take care of his sick baby brother, and Castiel compulsively God Bless You's every single sneeze until somebody loses their patience.