"Here's…"
"Auh..ausnnggkss…"
"…your…"
"HuCHOO! ACHOOO!"
"…change, sir. Oh, and some Kleenex. On the house."
The young Goth clerk held out a large new box of Puffs with Lotion. She smiled an energetic grin that made Dean feel a thousand years old.
Dean sighed, hugging the box to him. He sniffled, giving the empathetic girl a tired wan smile and walked away, coughing.
He stepped outside into the chilly rain. He was too tired to run through the downpour and the Impala sitting just across the street might as well have been ten miles away. He sneezed again, groaning. Windy sheets of rain blew under the awning and dampness seeped deeper into his aching muscles and joints. Standing in the doorway he began to shiver. Wiping his dripping nose with the now damp tissues he stepped into the frigid downpour. Trudging across the flooding street, his knees throbbed with each step. He was completely soaked by the time he got into the car.
He turned up the heater, but the car had cooled off too much and was only blowing cold air. He hunched over, pulling his wet shirts and the heavy damp leather jacket tighter around him.
"Hidtnnugg...Achnugg! Owww."
Two sneezes later and he was leaning back in the seat, resting his throbbing head in his hands, trying to ease the rampant chills. The car slowly churned out lukewarm air. His toes were barely functioning in his sodden boots as Dean pulled out, heading back to the hotel, driving much slower than normal down the rainy, dark afternoon street.
Sam smiled at the tiny librarian.
"Thanks you, Mrs. Wheeler. I appreciate all your help." He exited the old building, hearing the locks close behind him.
Sam walked down the darkening street. He checked his phone. No calls from Dean and he was only getting voicemail when he called. He zipped up his brown jacket and headed for the coffee shop two blocks away and then to the bus station. Dean was not going to believe this news, but the two days of research had paid off. They finally had a solid lead in this case.
Dean stepped back inside the cheap hotel room. Cranking up the old thermostat on the wall, he stumbled over to the bed, falling less than gracefully onto the covers. He opened the Nyquil and chased four Tylenol down with it. He stuffed three cherry Halls cough drops in his mouth and sank back against the pillows with a congested groan. Whatever this was it had hit him hard. Pulling himself up to a semi-slouched position on the edge of the bed, he tried to untie his wet laces. His skin ached wherever his clothes touched. He finally managed to get his boots off, followed by socks and the rest of his outer clothes. The room was a little warmer; he could barely see his breath now. He immediately lay down, not bothering to get a towel and dry off, just pulling the covers on over his damp skin.
"Hah-cheeeew, haaa-snngggg, oh, God."
Dean huddled against the chill, wrapping his arms around himself. He finally grabbed the other pillow on the bed and pulled it close, although it wasn't any warmer than the rough cotton sheets. Somewhere in his head he knew he needed to eat and drink but it would take energy he didn't have. He closed his eyes, his ragged cough the only sound in the darkened room. Sam would be back soon.