Title: Six Weeks
Notes: Written for sexualoddity’s Sneezy Supernatural Boys Appreciation Society comment meme
Prompt:  Dean comes back from Purgatory with brand new allergies and he cannot stop sneezing and he has NO IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON until Sam figures it out and maybe laughs at him but also takes care of him. I mostly really want to see lots of desperately sneezy confused Dean.



Six Weeks

“No fever. Fucking thing’s probably broken.” Dean squinted in disapproval at the thermometer in the florescent light of the motel bathroom. Then he pitched forward with a sneeze that just barely missed the mirror.


Sam leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “Or maybe this isn’t the flu.”


Dean directed the same glare he had given the thermometer toward Sam. “Colds don’t usually last a month.”


“It’s been six weeks,” Sam corrected, thinking back to a volley of sneezes Dean had tried to hide into the wrist of his jacket when they’d been in a basement of an old house prying up wooden floorboards to find the body buried beneath.


“Six…” Dean trailed off, thinking. “Really?”


“Not long after you got back from purgatory,” Sam said.


“You think I came back from purgatory sick?” A sudden sniff made Dean rub at his nose. His nostrils flared and Sam knew what that meant. Dean cupped both hands to his face, covering both his nose and mouth. “hehhh-Ixxshhh! Egshh! H’ixgtttt!” He breathed slowly, stuffily, until Sam passed him a tissue. “Tell me this isn’t the flu.” He blew his nose until there was a honking sound.


“It isn’t the flu,” he said. “I think it’s an allergy.”


“I don’t have allergies.”


“Maybe you didn’t before,” Sam agreed. “But you do now. Maybe your body got used to purgatory and now that it’s back, there’s something that makes you sneeze.”


Dean could not have looked less convinced. He squeezed past Sam in the doorway and grabbed his suit jacket from the chair. “Let’s just go interview these witnesses. I’ll pick up some Nyquil while we’re out.”


FBI agents Simmons and Stanley visited three different houses in the cal-du-sac where the specter had been sighted and then stopped by a library to look up some local history. By the end of the afternoon, they had a good working theory and Dean hadn’t sneezed once. No sniffles, no tickles, no coughs. But he still grabbed a bottle of cold medicine at the drug store on the way back to the motel.


Sam hadn’t so much as loosened his tie before he heard Dean sneeze. “hihshtt!” The small, sudden explosion had taken Dean by surprise. But it had been followed by a half dozen more. “hehShhh! H’Pffshhh! Ehigshhhh! Hitchhh! Eh-ehtchhh! Ixxxshh! Uh… what the hell?” Dean collapsed face-first onto the bed, sneezes muffled. “h’Mmmph!” He raised his arm, gesturing toward the windows and door. “It’s freakin’ cold and raining outside and I don’t sneeze once. Then I get in here and-ihhh… heh-Ehfshhhh!


“Because it’s an allergy.”


This time, Dean didn’t argue. Because he couldn’t. “ehtchmmph!


Sam sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’re probably allergic to something in the motel rooms. Maybe there’s mold or some cleaning product. Or maybe the feather pillows.” Sam reached up and patted a pillow.


Dean stiffened and then shook with a strong “hehhhShffmmm!” into the pillow.


Sam eased a small box out of his pocket and set it on the bed. Then he patted Dean’s back. “Here. It’s worth a try.”


Dean lifted his head, and Sam could see his eyes were watering. “Whed did you buy that?” Dean looked down at the box of allergy medicine, his expression one of wariness.


“At the store. I took a chance.”


Dean swallowed one dry and shoved the pillows off the bed. “Baybe I should go sleeb id the car?”


Sam patted him again. “Maybe you should just wait and see if the Benadryl helps.”


Dean rolled onto his side, rubbing at his eyes. “I hobe it’s feathers. It’d be a good excuse to avoid adgels.”