For Mad Server – To Catch A Cold
"What is that thing?" Sam whispered to Dean, crouched next to him behind a car. The form by the dumpster could hardly be seen in the dark alley.
Dean attempted to answer, but instead only released a volley of hoarse coughs which he attempted to smother. The 'thing' they were watching quickly turned from the rat it was munching on and ran down the alley.
"Dammit, Dean!" Sam yelled at his brother, standing up.
"I'm – kershew – sorry," Dean said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Sam was immediately sorry for raising his voice at his brother. Dean had been struggling with the cold for over a week now, and he was sure Dean was more tired of it than he.
"Okay, okay. Let's head back to the motel and you get some rest. I'll call Bobby." Sam said.
Dean nodded wordlessly. Heading back to the motel and putting his head on a pillow was all he wanted to do right now. The Impala was four blocks away, and the brothers walked easily along the city sidewalk in the dark, side by side. Sam stole a glance at his big brother. Dean's cheek's were flushed red and beads of sweat glistened in the street lights. Sam knew the last thing Dean would ever do is complain about a hunt, but this one was frustrating. They had been chasing some obscure beast around the back alleys of New York City for four days now and were not any closer to solving what it was or how to kill it. And on top of that, Dean's cold was making them both miserable.
When they reached the Impala, they saw that one of the passenger windows had been smashed in. Dean put his hands on his head and clenched his jaw, eyes wide in anger. Before he could sputter any expletives, he immediately bent over with wet coughs, unable to speak.
The brothers got into the car and headed to the motel, neither speaking a word. Dean was too angry and too sick to be consoled, and Sam was too smart to even try. Sam glanced in the rear view mirror and was surprised to see two red eyes glaring back at him.
"Dean!" Sam swerved the Impala to the side of the road and jumped out. Dean, who had started to doze, woke and turned to come face to face with the creature.
"Kersewrak!" Dean sneezed at it, before leaping out of the car. The creature leaped back out through the broken window and ran into a run-down building.
"Note to self – always check back seat when car window is broken," Dean said to Sam. Sam's nerves were rattled, but the cold seemed to keep Dean calm. He broke into a series of phlemy coughs again.
"You stay here," Sam told him as he grabbed a sawed-off shotgun from the trunk. "That thing is going to hear you from a million miles away."
Dean held onto the side of the car as he bent double with more coughing and a sneeze. He waved Sam off, too weak to argue.
Sam entered the building slowly, waving his flashlight cautiously into closets and around corners. He swore furiously to himself. Here they were, on a chilly, dark night, hunting some damn thing, and his brother was outside with a cold bad enough to kill him.
Sam heard Dean sneeze behind him, and turned to admonish his brother for coming in. But when Sam turned and shone his light – it was the creature. It sneezed again, and coughed violently. It wavered comically on its legs, then collapsed on its side, sniveling.
Sam put it out of its misery – and his.
Back at the Impala, Sam tossed the shotgun back in the trunk. He walked over to Dean and pulled his brother close to his chest. He could feel Dean's fever through his shirt. Dean's short hair felt soft on Sam's chin. He breathed in his brother's smell of leather and sweat and beer and sighed. "Let's get you better, okay?"
Dean raised his eyebrows. "Sure. Are you okay?"
Sam released Dean from his embrace and got into the Impala. "Yeah. Never been better."
-end-