Title: Day 4
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: None
Disclaimer: Not my characters. I wish they were mine. I definitely don’t get paid for this.
Summary: Sam is cursed to sneeze. Dean to the rescue!
Notes: Written during my 13 Ficlets in 13 Days in 2016 project for mdlaw

“Sniff!”

Dean's hand tightened on his fork. Not only was his brother a pain in the ass, but now he was making it impossible to enjoy this free dinner. What was the point of saving the owner of a steakhouse if you couldn't enjoy the rewards that came with it? There were so few perks that came with this job; shouldn't he get to enjoy one of them? 

“Sniff, sniff!”

Apparently not. Dean dropped the fork onto his plate and rubbed his thumb and fingers across his forehead. “Hey, Sam. How about giving that shnoz of yours a blow? I can't hear myself chewing over here.” He scooped up some gourmet mashed potatoes, determined to eat something.

Looking guilty, Sam shifted in his seat to get at his right pocket. Then his back pocket. Then his left pocket. Then back to the right again. “Ah, Dean? I think I'm out of tissues.”

“Oh for...” Dean dropped his fork again. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his bandanna. He hoped the kid would be quick about this; after all they'd been through on this case, Dean knew they deserved a good meal, and it didn't matter to him if they were under-dressed for this fancy restaurant. But if they drew too much attention to themselves, other people might start noticing it.  “Just keep it down, okay?”

Sam nodded and folded the bandanna so it was small and thick before holding it to his nose and blowing. Sam leaned toward the wall, trying to use his gigantor body to block his face as he used the layers of cloth to muffle the blow. When he was done, he straightened back up. “Sorry, Dean. Don't know why it just keeps running and itching. Sniff! But maybe that's the last of it? I feel better now.”

“Hope so.” Finally, Dean managed to get a forkful of food to his mouth to enjoy. Steak and mashed potatoes and peas. But it didn't taste quite as satisfying as he'd expected it would. Why was Sam sniffling at all? It wasn't allergy season, so was he sick again? Damn it, they'd both had colds a while back, and after trading it back and forth between them for weeks, it had taken practically fumigating Baby to break the cycle. Dean did not look forward to going through all that again. Maybe it was just something in the meal? Too much pepper on Sammy's mashed potatoes? Except Sam had been sniffing on the drive over to the restaurant.

And when they'd rescued the hostages.

And when they'd faced down that coven of witches and broken their bond to the demon.

“Sniff! Sniff!”

Oh shit.

“Sniff!”

“Uh, Sam?”

“Sniff!”

“Sam, I think we'd better get the rest of this food to go.” A wonderful steak dinner in front of him, and Dean wasn't even hungry anymore. He looked at his brother, sniffling into the bandanna. “I think something's seriously wrong.” This case wasn't over yet.

*

“hah... hahh-KIHTSchhooo!”

Dean should have known it couldn't be that easy. Nothing they went up against was ever that easy. He pulled another tissue from the motel room tissue box and waved it, with a sigh, at his brother without even looking up from the laptop.

Sniffling, Sam took the tissue from Dean and wiped at his nose. “Find anything yet?”

Dean shook his head. They'd spent an hour searching for a hex bag just in case, but their search hadn't resulted in anything. And in any case, witches' curses and powers weren't supposed to linger after a witch's deal with the demon was destroyed.

“ha... hahhhh...hah Dean? Hahhhh HAH-IHTSchhooo!” Sam sneezed, snapping forward, hand cupped to his face, brow furrowed with worry.

Dipping his hand into the box, which was emptying faster than either of them had expected, Dean handed another tissue to his brother. If Sam had control of the tissue box, they'd probably be out of tissues already, so Dean was trying to ration them.

“Deh-Dean?”

Dean looked up, taking in the sight. Sam sneezing wasn't much of a concern normally. Sure, it was a pain when allergies struck or when they caught cold. But this wasn't normal. This was nonstop. This was magical.

“hah yuhhhh... hnnng!” Sam pinched his nose and pursed his lips tight, trying once again to hold the sneezes back. It hadn't worked so far, but Dean knew this had to be frustrating and Sam was desperate to try anything that might work.

“Don't, Sammy. You're going to hurt yourself.”

“hahh hnnn nngggh! No sniff I can hnnn I can do this.”

Knowing Sam couldn't, Dean got a tissue ready. 

“hahhh hahh HAH IHHHTTCHhhhhhhhh!” Sniffling wetly and looking defeated, Sam grabbed the tissue and blew his nose.

Dean turned his attention back to the laptop. It wasn't as though the internet could be trusted as far as lore, but Dean was trying to go through the town's property records to make sure there wasn't anyone they had overlooked.

“hahhh sniff! Sniff! Hahhhh EHTSchooo!”

But if there really were secret, hidden members of the coven still, it might be impossible for the Winchesters to find them, unless they did something stupid to make themselves known.

“Hahhh EHHTChoooo!”

Something stupid like cursing one of them with nonstop sneezes. How did that even occur to someone to use sneezing as a curse? Unless it was someone who was around sneezes all day already and knew how miserable they could be.

“hahhh... hahhhh HAHTChooo!”

Dean looked up from the laptop, lost in thought. Sniffling, Sam took advantage and made his move, grabbing for the tissue box and pulling three out at once to blow his nose into. “Sam, didn't one of the witches work at a doctor's office or something like that?”

With a thoughtful expression, Sam rubbed at his nose. “An allergy clinic, I think.”

That made perfect sense. Grinning, Dean reached over the table and patted Sam's shoulder. “Well, Sneezy, I think we've got ourselves the perfect cover for checking that place out.”

Sam smiled weakly before burying his face in the bunch of tissues again. “HAH CHIHShooo!”

*

“hahCHTshhooo! HehhShooo! Hah hah KTSchhhhhhh!”

First the sniffling. Then sneezes every minute or two. Now they were were coming one right after the next. Dean had to keep an arm wrapped around Sam's body to steady him as they walked from the car into the office building and to the elevator. In the elevator, Sam leaned against the metal wall, breath hitching.

“hahhhh... hahhh IHHTChooo! HEHShuhhhh!”

One look at Sam hunched over in the elevator, and several people decided to take the stairs. Dean couldn't blame them. Sam was a mess, weak and tired from so much sneezing, but trying to look like this was ultimately just a bad allergy attack instead of an insidious form of torture.

“HEHKTchoo! HAHShooo!”

Though Dean thought that was already pretty unbelievable, given the state of him. Dean signed him in under a fake name and grabbed some tissues from the box on the counter. He grabbed a lollipop from the bowl there as well.

“Those are for patients,” said the receptionist, eyeing him coldly. Then she reached over the counter and literally plucked the candy from his hand before he even had a chance to unwrap it. She glanced back at Sam and, for one brief second, Dean saw the corners of her mouth twitch upwards.

Well, that had been easier than he'd thought. “My brother's a patient,” Dean said, meeting her gaze and holding it. “Sudden, violent allergies. We don't know what to do about them.”

In his seat, Sam snapped forward with another uncontrollable fit of sneezes. “hahh AHTChooo! HAHTSchooo! KAHSHooo! Huhshooo!”

Slowly, the receptionist smiled. “Let me show you to one of our examination rooms right away. I'm sure the doctor will want to speak with the two of you.”

“I'm sure,” Dean repeated flatly. He motioned for Sam to follow. With one hand he gripped his brother's arm to guide him down the hall, and with the other he kept a firm grip on the knife tucked into his jeans, beneath his flannel shirt. He was glad for this, though, because the moment he was through the door, the receptionist charged at him.

“huhhh HAHTchoo! HahhShooo!”

While Sam sneezed, Dean pinned the witch down on the desk.

“Huh HUHTChooo!”

While Sam sneezed, Dean got his knife out and pressed the tip against the nape of her neck.

“Hahhh hahhhIHTChooo! HihShooo!”

And while Sam sneezed, Dean threatened her until she called the curse off.

“Hah hah hahh!”

Not releasing his grip on the witch, Dean turned his head to see Sam, hand cupped to his face. Sam's body relaxed and his hand dropped. His breath wasn't catching, nose wasn't twitching, nostrils weren't flaring. Grinning down at the witch, Dean thanked her and then delivered a knockout punch. With any luck, they'd be gone by the time she came to.

“You okay... Sammy?” Dean asked, hands on his thighs as he tried to catch his breath.

Sam nodded. Cautiously, he breathed in and out through his nose. All was clear. “Yeah. I'm totally fine now.”

Dean nodded, closing his eyes in relief. “Don't say I never do anything for you.” He pulled the extra tissues they wouldn't now need out of his pockets and dropped them into the trash can by the desk. “Forget the steak dinner. I want out of this town now.” Sam whole-heartily agreed.