"What's wrong?"
Dean shakes his head, gasps and presses a wrist to his nose. His forehead creases, his breath suspending.
"Hello? Can I take your order?"
Dean exhales shakily, drops the arm. "We n..." Another shuddering inhale.
"Sir? Could you repeat that please?"
Dean explodes in sneezes. A cupped hand flies to smother them. His cheeks flush.
"T-Two... HIIIISHJJSHSHUH!... ch-eeseb... HOOOFFFF! Heh-TCHHCHGHKGK!"
Sam frowns, leans in. "Two cheeseburgers, two cokes, a salad and a large fry."
Dean's hunched over his palm, motionless, eyes squeezed shut. He manages some air, wipes his hand on his jeans.
"Thagks, Sab."
"And extra napkins."