Chapter Text
The driver's side door creaked almost as much as Dean's joints did, as he finally emerged from the impala after the 10 hour drive to Jody’s.
Sam followed with a stretch, arms reaching over his head, shoulders popping.
Dean ran a hand down his face from forehead to chin and sniffed back the congestion. He’d gone through a whole box of tissues on the way there, and was obviously going to need more before the day was out. He shivered against the nip of the November wind and tugged his jacket closer around him. The sun had just disappeared over the horizon and taken the only shred of warmth with it.
He drove a cough into his fist before following Sam up towards the front door.
“You alright, man?”
Dean sniffed again, and cleared his throat, “I’m super,” voice thick and nasal.
“Did you take any Advil?”
“Not since lunch.”
Sam furrowed his brow with concern and a little bit of pity.
Dean would have slapped him but instead he quickly whipped his head towards his wrist, on a deep inhale and paused.
“Guuhh,” he let out a breathy pant, “Lost it.”
“Dude.”
“Hang on.”
Dean stayed still in the position, breathing erratic.
“Dean.”
“Hhih’EHSTCHEWw!”
“Bless you.”
“Hh’YKSZUUuh! Ek’TXSCHOo!”
“Geez.”
“Ugh, kill me.”
“You done?”
“For now.”
“We should have stayed home.”
Dean coughed into his elbow and finally straightened up, “It’s Thanksgiving,” Dean sniffed.
“And you’re a biohazard,” Sam countered.
“Shut up. I’m adorable. Hhh…”
Sam sighed and knocked on the door.
“Hhuh’ITSXHSSHU!”
Dean coughed in the aftermath of his enormous sneeze so much he had to hold onto Sam’s shoulder to stay upright.
He straightened as the door swung open.
“Boys!” Jody called, “Glad you could make it. Come ‘ere.”
She wrapped Sam in a hug, then moved on to Dean. She hesitated as she pulled away, taking in his appearance.
“Well, I was going to say it’s good to see you but honey, you look awful.”
Dean cleared his throat and tried to stand up straighter. Sam tried and failed to keep from smirking.
“Thanks, Jody. It’s good to see you too.”
“I meant, are you sick? You shouldn’t have driven all day, you must be beat.”
Dean rubbed a sheepish hand across his forehead, “I’m fine. Hungry, actually. Where’s this turkey we’ve heard so much about?”
Jody smiled and Dean felt some of the tension run out of his shoulders.
“Come on in. Claire and Alex are setting the table.”
“This I gotta see.”
…
Honestly, dinner probably tasted great. It certainly looked great. Roast turkey with all the fixings and apple pie still warming in the oven for dessert. Unfortunately, Dean’s sinuses were so full of gunk he couldn’t taste anything at all.
The mash was warm and soft and felt good on his throat but he wasn’t feeling much else.
Sam seemed to be enjoying himself and the girls were all talking and playfully bickering. Dean was muffling coughs into his sleeve and moving the food around on his plate.
He’d made a beeline for a tissue box on the hall stand as soon as he’d walked in and had virtually been holding onto the same soggy bundle since then. His right nostril was completely blocked and his left one was running mercilessly. Meaning he pretty much had to hold it against his nose constantly and sit there sniffling. Both actions had not gone unnoticed.
“You look like hell, Winchester,” Claire suddenly blurted out during a quiet lull in the conversation.
“Thanks,” Dean sniffed hard, directed a cough into his fist.
“Claire,” Alex gasped a little at her bluntness.
“Well, she’s not wrong,” Jody looked at Dean with sympathetic eyes and Dean would have rolled his if his head didn’t hurt so much.
Sam cleared his throat loudly.
“Anyone want some punch?” Alex asked, changing the subject, offering a round to the table, pouring chunky orange liquid from a big glass jug.
Dean accepted a glass with a nod. He took a sip and it burned.
“Hh’ITKSCHEww! Wha - is that… Hhih’IGSTCHU! Cinnamon?”
So congested he could barely pronounce the word.
“Amongst other things,” Jody laughed, “It’s got a little spice to it.”
Sam got up and brought the tissue box over to the table, setting it down by Dean's elbow.
“Tha -That I can tu-taste - Hehh’EXCHT!” Dean sniffled, defeated and depressed, “Uhg, God,” he pitched the bridge of his nose, ripping out several tissues from the box.
“Dean, honey.”
“Huh’MMPFFSH! Heh’SHPPFFEww!” He curled around a cloud of tissues, pausing before following up with a, “HHRSSHHU!”
He used the momentum of the last sneeze to carry him up to his feet and wandered down the hall towards the bathroom, burbling copious amounts of snot into the tissues. He ran out of energy long before he ran out of snot, tried to clean himself up, although his nose was now red and glistening no matter what he did. And splashed some cold water on his face in an attempt to look more alive before heading back out to dinner.
He dropped into his seat, feeling everyone’s eyes on him and stifled another tired sneeze against his elbow.
“Hh’GRSSH! Son of a…”
“Bless you a bunch,” Jody crinkled her nose, “Dean…”
Dean interrupted Jody’s concerns with a cough that once it started, would not stop.
Sam clapped him on the back and tried to hand him the glass of punch, “Here, Dean, Jesus.”
Dean shook his head, “Nuh uh. Nearly killed me,” he gasped.
Sam was rubbing the heel of his palm up and down his brother's spine and normally it wouldn’t have irritated him quite so much but his skin hurt, hot and stinging and goosebumps in places he didn’t know could get goosebumps.
”Stop,” Dean said between hacks, trying to wriggle away from Sam’s touch.
“Just trying to help,” he shrugged, annoyed.
When he finally caught his breath, red faced and sweating more than the situation required, he put his head in his hands. Although he quickly had to get more tissues back under his nose before he dripped all over the table.
“As you were,” he mumbled, trying to get the light hearted conversation that was happening earlier going again.
Sam sighed beside him.
“We haven’t said what we’re thankful for,” Alex said.
Jody laughed, “Good health?”
Dean had his head in one hand and the other clamping a bundle of tissues around his nose. He jerked forward with two more wet, exhausting sneezes.
“HHRRSHHU! HRUTSXHUu!”
He coughed lightly in the aftermath.
“Allllright, you’re done,” Jody got up and came around in front of Dean.
”I’m good,” he growled.
Jody brushed a hand through his hair and then bent to press her cheek to his forehead.
“Wow,” she said, drawing back to look at him, “That’s it, mister. Bedtime for you.”
Dean mashed his wrist up under his nose, “Ugk. Yeah, okay,” was all he said. Accepting defeat far too easily but knowing he was done. Any longer and he may have fallen asleep and face planted the mash potatoes.
He stood up and blanched, heavy fist slamming into the table as he stumbled a little, glassware rattling.
Jody grabbed his shoulder and Sam’s hand was at the small of his back.
“Hey, hey.”
Out of the chair and at his side in a woozy haze.
“I got him,” Sam said.
Sam’s hand was around his bicep and he pulled him towards the hall. Dean swiped the tissue box on his way past.
“I didn’t know you had a fever.”
Dean shivered on cue. He curled into his elbow crease and didn’t hold back.
“HUH’TSSCHU! HA’KSCHOoo! Uhhg…”
“Bless you, brother. Come on.”
Sam deposited Dean on the spare bed and started undoing his jeans and tugging them down his legs.
“Quit it,” Dean groaned but lay in state and let him do it, limbs feeling warm and uncooperative.
“You want your sweatpants on?” Sam asked, starting in on his shirt.
“Want you to shut up,” Dean coughed and rolled away from him.
Sam took advantage and got one arm out of the sleeve.
“Fuck, it’s freezing,” Dean gasped.
“Yeah, hang on,” impatient now, Sam manhandled him out of his overshirt.
Dean’s teeth chattered.
Sam got him in sweats and one of his own hoodies, tucking the tissue box at his side as he curled away from him.
“Uuuhhhgh sucks,” Dean moaned.
“I know it sucks. You need to sleep this off.”
“Huh’EXSTCH!” Snotty snuffle, “Feel like ass.”
“You want drugs?”
“God, yes. All the drugs,” he slurred, sniffling miserably.
“Use the tissues, dude.”
Dean opened sticky, heavy eyelids and blinked the tissue box into focus. He grabbed a bunch and blew till he was out of breath.
…
Sam jogged halfway down the hall, interrupting Jody and the girls in a rather heated debate over whether cranberry sauce sucked ass or not.
“Hey, Jody, have you got tamiflu or NyQuil or something?” Sam asked.
“Let me check,” Jody hopped up and headed through to the kitchen.
“You’re in luck,” she called, and when she was heading back towards the hall “I have both.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” Sam mumbled.
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s miserable. Sorry about all this. He never gets sick.”
“He’s had a lot going on, Sam. And hey, that’s what family’s for, right? You coming back out for dessert?”
“Yeah, you bet. Let me sort him out first.”
“Don’t hurry back. And tell Dean we’ll save some for him.”