Dean has this thing about sneezes, Sam has observed from years looking on in the passenger seat. Dean never just lets himself sneeze. If it's a singular sneeze, one not brought on by a cold, he will own it. His nose and eyes crinkle up, and he leans forward and screams, "AAAACHOO!" over the actual sound of the sneeze. Afterwards he'll sniffle, let out a little sigh, and wilt a bit, like the scream took a lot out of him. Like he thinks this is somehow a Man Sneeze, and that he's some sort of sneezing bad ass.
When he's actually getting sick, though, he tries to hide the sneeze. It'll be preceded by a finger splayed casually under his nose, an inhale. His nose will keep twitching. He'll shake his head, trying to make the urge to let it out go away. He'll clench his jaw down tight, attempting prevent the sneeze from leaving his body through sheer force.
Finally, though, he'll have to let it out somehow. He turns his head to the side, into the crook of his elbow, and try to nonchalantly let out a little "haaasnee!" His head pops up immediately afterwards and he tries to shake it off like it never happened, blinks his watery eyes.
Minutes after he's broken the seal a sneezing fit will invariably come upon him. He'll try to keep releasing them politely and unobtrusively into his arm, but eventually he needs to return his eyes to the road. He can't stop the sneezes though, they spray towards the steering wheel and on the dashboard. He has to pull to the side of the road so he's not driving blind.
Tonight, as they're stalled on the shoulder Sam gets out of the passenger side door and walks over to Dean's window, puts a hand on his brother's arm. Dean looks up at him in surprise, his big green eyes watery, bagged, and red-rimmed. He's so tired he didn't notice Sam get up. He hasn't been sleeping much, Sam knows, and this cold and the sneezing fits have only made him more exhausted.
Dean sits in the passenger seat, dazed, eyes watery. He sinks down into the seat, and Sam can see him succumbing to the cold now that he doesn't have to suck it up and drive. Sam puts the car in drive and makes his way back into traffic.
A couple hours later, they're stopped in the parking lot of a motel. Sam returns with a room key, but Dean hasn't moved. He's not asleep, but he's huddled with his head against the window. He keeps wiping his nose with his sleeve. Sam opens the door and Dean falls a bit before reflexively steadying himself, peering up at Sam in confusion.
He leads Dean into the room. "Sit," he orders, guiding Dean to the bed and plopping him down.
"Sitting," Dean answers, blinking up at his brother. He sniffles.
Sam pushes him lightly down onto the pillow. He begins to unlace Dean's boots, but in a couple of seconds Dean has sat up again and is trying to help, fingers fumbling the laces.
"Hey." Sam pulls off one boot and drops it to the floor. He sits on the edge of the bed and puts his hand on Dean's chest, presses him down onto the sheets. "I got this," Sam assures his brother. He runs a hand through Dean's short hair, rubs a thumb at the top of his forehead. He leans down and presses a kiss to the feverish, freckled skin there. "Just go to sleep, kiddo," he instructs, and Dean closes his eyes.
