So right now I'm sitting in my sociology class, really bored so i typed this story up. It's kinda funny.
Disclaimer- I don't own anything, which makes me sadder every time i say that!
Summary- John always told his boys that when you are sick, you don't hunt because it endangers those around yo. Dean disregards this advise. After a hunt, dean fully understands the meaning behind his fathers words.
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Just a regular day
Dean knew he was sick, he could feel the heaviness of his chest and the tell-a-tale pressure behind his eyes. No. No, this can't be happening to me right now. Dean thought as he forced his sleep crusted eye open to the morning light. He could smell coffee that Sam no doubt brought in only moments before, the smell, which normally invigorated Dean only made him ill this morning. He rolled to his side away from the window and let a loud moan.
"Morning Dean. Are you planning on getting up anytime soon or should I get to business and meet up with you in a couple of hours?" Sam sarcastically said from his perch in front of the laptop.
"Ha' very funny." Dean moaned, pushing himself up from the bed. "What time is it?" a hand scratching across his morning stubble.
"It's almost 8:30 Dean, I've let you sleep in this morning." Sam replied simply, not bothering to grace his brother with a look.
"Why?" Dean asked, his brother never let him sleep in; Dean shook his head and moaned lightly when he felt a slight tickle. Great now I need to sneeze.
Sam final graced him with a glance, worry etching lines in his face, "Your not the only one that can watch over someone when they sleep Dean."
"Okay, stalkerish much?"
"You know what I mean Dean." Sam huffed. " I woke up last night to go to the washroom and I could hear your wheezing from there, dude. Why didn't you tell me that you were sick?"
Dean gave him a funny look, " I didn't feel this bad when I went to bed last night dude. Now if you'll excuse I need a shower and got to pump myself full of Advil. We got that damn hunt to finish tonight. When I come up, please give me some good news" and he entered the bathroom without another word.
Twenty minutes later Dean emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist and steam billowing out the door behind him. "So," he started, while shuffling through his duffle to find some moderately clean clothes to wear, "did you figure out what we are up against yet, geek boy?" Dean cringed at the nasally quality to his voice.
Sam sighed, "Yeah we are up against a spirit, it's attached itself to something in the house where the kids keep getting killed at. Good news is that we can beat it by burning the thing that is keeping it here." Sam paused, looking back at his computer before continuing, but Dean cut him off.
"So what's the big deal, we salt and burn the sucker," sitting down on the edge of the bed fully dressed. "Where is this guy buried?"
"This is where its get difficult. He isn't buried, he drown and his body was never found."
"Well. That sucks." Dean stated, trying to avoid the cough that was itching up his throat.
"Yeah, so we have to find whatever is keeping him here before he gets to anyone else." Sam closed his laptop, and turned to face Dean, who at that very moment began coughing. "You okay the man?"
Breathing through the coughs, Dean wheezed out two large breaths before saying, "not a problem, we go to the house tonight and find whatever is keeping him here."
"I don't think that's a good idea Dean, you need to rest man, to get better." Sam explained, looking up at Dean, giving the full on puppy dog look.
"I'm fine Sam."
"Dean you know it isn't good to be hunting when you're sick. Dad told us that enough. 'If you hunt when you sick you endanger anyone around you."
"Sam, I'm fine, just a scratchy throat man. Seriously." Dean said, but Sam still looked skeptical "Dude, can we just go and get some breakfast and check out the house before dark so we know the floor outline so we are going in blind tonight. I'll be all right; it's only a sore throat. Let it drop." Dean said, grabbing his keys from the dresser and throwing on his jacket and storming out the door, Sam right on his heels.
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After checking out the house the Winchester boys went back to the motel that they were staying at. Upon entering, Dean headed straight for the bathroom where his Advil was waiting.
"Dean are you sure your up for the hunt tonight, I mean I can do this one myself if you just want to sit this one out man." Sam said from the other room, his voice muffled.
Dean left the bathroom to see Sam bent over the duffle bag where the weapons were kept. "For the last time Sam, I'm alright."
"Whatever man, but if you sneeze and the ghost finds us before we plan, you're being the distraction not me. Got it."
"Yeah, yeah."
The drive to the house was silent, except for the sniffles coming from Dean. The got to hunt and gathered their gear from the impala's trunk.
Walking up to the front door, Dean signal for Sam to go in first so that he could take up the rear. Inside, Dean and Sam went into full hunter mode, "Sam, what exactly what are we looking for?"
"Something old and what this guy would have place great value in, he like hunting and he were a family man. So I'm thinking we split up and search, anything you think of that has a value take it. Meet back here in like 10 minutes, will burn the things outside so that we don't take the entire house out a draw attention to ourselves. When ghosty shows up, we pump him full of rock salt."
"Fair enough, see you in a few." Dean turned towards the garage and left.
Sam went upstairs to search.
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Dean left the garage with a handful of crap that this man would've considered valuable. Looking up from the crap, he saw Sam standing there with his hands full of crap as well. That was when Dean noticed that Sam wasn't alone.
"Sam," Dean screamed, dropping his stuff and reaching for the familiar gun tucked in the back of his pant. "Behind you."
Sam looked confused as Dean called his name, noticing that Dean has drawn his weapon and has it pointed towards him.
Dean pointed his gun directly at the spirit hover just behind Sam, getting ready to fire; he felt the familiar twinge of a sneeze coming on. Oh this cannot be happening to me right now. Just get the shot off. Dean's trigger finger tightened when the sneeze hit. Sending his finger to fire the gun and his aim to be off.
Sam felt the bullet before he cold register that his brother had shot him, letting out s yelp as the rock salt slammed into his shoulder, twisting his body so far that he crumpled to the ground.
Dean heard Sam's yelp before his eyes opened, Sammy, I just shot my Sammy. Looking up, Dean saw his brother lying on the ground, grasping his shoulder. "SAMMY!" Dean pleaded, "Sam!"
"I'm okay, just shoot the damn thing!" Sam screamed.
Shooting the ghost, Dean ran towards his brother who was attempting to sit up. "Dean, leave me, burn the mother down." Sam screamed as the ghost rematerialized in front of him.
The front of his shirt being taken a hold of, Sam was tossed viciously into the side of the house.
Dean watched as his brother's body was tossed like a rag doll into the side of the house. Dean cringed the impact of his brother's body to the side of the house. Dean shot the thing with the rock salt and then ran towards his injured little brother.
"Sam…Sammy? Are you with me here bro?" Dean asked, kneeling down next to his younger sibling. A moan came from Sam, "Look man, I got to burn the house down, it's the only way to make sure that we get the entire thing. We can't have you being thrown into another wall." A shit licker grin smeared across his face. "Sam? Are you with me man?" Pressing his fingers to Sam's neck. Dean felt a pulse. "Great, you take nice little break while I go kill the baddies."
Dean left his little brother lying there by the side of the house; he figured that he only had a few minutes before the ghost showed up again. Grabbing the pile of craps that both he and Sam dropped when the ghost first made its untimely visits. Rushing, he took the crap and placed it just inside the doorway, placing the can of kerosene in the pile he dropped a lit match on top. Watching the pile flare Dean knew it would be only moments before the can blew and spread the fire at wicked speed. Dean was turning from the blaze when heard a screech coming from the yard near the place were he left Sam. Crap, crap crap! Sammy! Inwardly scream, tearing from the house at top speed. Reaching the yard where he brother was laying Dean witnessed his brother being violently tossed through the air. Hearing the loud thud, Dean drew his gun once again and fired, but missed. The ghost, realizing that his house was on fire, went to grab Sam again. Noticing this, Dean panicked and began screaming to distract the ghost.
"Hey ugly, I bet you can't catch me!"
A roar echoed through the yard, the house had finally gone up in flames. Watching the ghost dematerialize Dean made his way over to his still brother. "Sam?"
Crouching down next to Sam, Dean again felt for his pulse, his hand grazing the shoulder that was shot, Sam eye flew open. "AH!"
"Oh god Sam, don't do that to me."
"Dean?"
"Yeah man, how you feeling?"
"Um, sore I guess. What happened?" Sam said, pushing himself up into a sitting position, cradling his injure arm to his chest while leaning heavily onto Dean.
"The ghost decided to play baseball with your body, he pitched you right into the house." Dean stated simply. Checking his brother over, poking and prodding to make sure that there wasn't anything broken.
Sam sat there silently under Dean ministrations, "Dude," Dean looked up, "You shot me."
Dean looked away.
"No, Dean. Look at me." Dean looked up at Sam. "You freakin' shot me, you sneezed and you ended up shooting me."
Dean began t apologized when Sam hastily continued. "Man, next time you're sick, you are going to stay in bed no matter what." Sam pushed himself to his feet with Dean's help.
"Sorry," Dean sheepishly quipped, "are you okay though."
"Yeah man, it's just going to be a pretty bruise for the next little while." Sam said while walking to where they parked the impala. Turning to Dean he requested "Let's get back to the motel Dan, I want to put some ice all over my body."
Dean felt the sneeze hurtling itself from his body before he could stop it, sneezing all over Sam.
Sam stood there in shock, "Dude, you just got snot all over me man!"
Dean stood there laughing.
Sam wiped his face and turned once again to head to the car.
"Jerk."
Dean laughed. "Bitch"
The end.