lt_indigo

lt_indigo

“It’s not funny.”

Sam had his arms folded, bitchface firmly fixed. Dean wished he could stop sneezing, so he could laugh as much as he wanted to.

“Yeah,” he choked out. “Yeah, it is.”

“Dean, this is serious.”

“Sure.” He tried to sober up, but Sam was making his eyes stream anyway so he figured he might as well just laugh.

Sam’s whiskers twitched in irritation, his ears flicking. “Dammit, Dean, you realised she’s incapacitated us both, right?”

Dean choked on his laughter, remembering that there was a serious aspect to this.

“Fine.” He paused to sneeze. “I’ll call Cas,” Sneeze. “get him to take over.” Sneeze.

.oOo.

The good thing about taking a witchy job in Phillipsburg, KS was that Cas was less than an hour away. They had left him at the bunker, hitting the books while Dean got his head back into the game again. Dean was sitting outside, getting some air, when the gold Continental slid into view. Cas was frowning before he even got out, taking in Dean’s slightly unusual visage.

“Hey, man. You brought the Benadryl, right?”

Cas held a plastic bag out warily. Dean snatched it and rooted out the sweet, precious drugs within, necking two of the pills dry.

“Dean, you appear to be suffering some kind of extreme immune reaction,” Cas observed. His head was tilted at that weird angle, but his eyes were gentle, concerned even.

“It’s an allergy, Cas,” Dean rasped, waving a hand. “These will help.”

The frown deepened. “I doubt you requested my assistance simply for this.”

Dean grinned and hoped he didn’t look as terrifying as he felt between the swollen lips and the hives. “Nah. Go in, see Sam. He’ll fill you in.”

As Cas opened the door, Dean added: “Make him show you his tail.”