A/N: For CiZiwejes, on her bunny, which Dean is allergic to.
Cold, clear day. Slow walk down a driveway.
"HEH-uhhhh... it-CHCHHH!"
"That was a lot of cats," Sam offers, tucking his suit's handkerchief into Dean's hand.
"You're tellig bee-hh-h-heee... hgh-HASHSHuh!"
New tears flood Dean's puffy face; he scrubs at them, at his red eyes. Sam waits. Pavement's cracked, dandelions poking through.
"Hih-hrrrrgh... hrr-RRRHRSHH!"
Sam frowns, glances at the house. "This fresh air doing anything for you?"
"Hih-ISSHHHSH-yew! KHKHHKHHH-HHOOO!" A messy snuffle, a shaky step forward. "Ugh... witch or dot, I'b gudda kill her."
"C'mere," Sam murmurs, fishing the keys from Dean's pocket, unlocking the passenger door. "Let's get you some drugs."