Fic: Living Life, Allergy-Free
Apr. 18th, 2014 09:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cowboyguyThis was originally posted as a fill for a prompt in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tarotgal's commentfic meme. Just archiving it here in my own journal.
Living Life, Allergy-Free
Prompt: Remember Changing Channels? What if instead of the Herpexia commercial, Gabriel put them in a commercial for allergy medicine… only once they’re done “playing their roles” for that particular segment, its effects haven’t quite worn off.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: PG for some swearing
“huh-KSHHHuh!”
Sam cups both hands in front of his face, catching the sneeze.
“I used to dread going outside. I couldn’t enjoy spending time with my friends, because my allergies got in the way.”
He looks miserable and disheartened, staring wistfully off into the distance.
“But now, I take once-daily Allervair, and the fresh air loves me again. Live your life, allergy-free!”
He smiles happily, and the sun shines on his face.
***
Allervair is totally worthless.
“You son of a b—TCHSSHHuh!” Sam grumbles at Dean. “I didn’t even—hhh… have allergies before you made me do this.”
“Hey, you’re the one who said play our roles,” Dean answers, grinning uncontrollably at his brother’s misery.
“You… you—KSHHAH! You suck. GHSHHuhh!”
“I’m the one who got shot, remember?” Dean says, grabbing Sam by the shoulder and turning his brother around to face him.
“I would rather have b—been… shot… hhhTSCHH! ISHHH! ahhh… TSHHAH! … God … mmphCHSHHUHH!” Sam swipes the sleeve of his windbreaker – yeah, that’s right, he’s wearing a windbreaker – under his nose and glares at Dean. “Ad dow we’re stugck here id the biddle of this fuckidg field…”
Dean raises his hands in a what do you want me to do? gesture. “Start walking, then.” He hitches his backpack further up on his shoulders and takes off down the path ahead of Sam.
Sam follows behind him, his hiking boots thumping against the dirt path. He doesn’t stop staring angrily at Dean’s back, except for when he has to stop and sneeze. “huh’CHSHH! heh’KSHH! ihh’TSHHuhh!” He sniffs and groans, cursing the Trickster, Dean, destiny, television, Mother Nature.
After awhile he realizes that he’s been staring curiously at Dean’s bright green, pocket-covered REI backpack for the past five minutes. “Hey, whad’s id your bagkpagk?” Sam asks, jogging a couple of steps to catch up to his brother.
Dean turns around. “What?”
Sam gestures at the backpack. “Whad’s id there?”
“Oh. Uh, I don’t know,” Dean replies. He shrugs it off and rests it on top of a nearby boulder and they both dig through it. It’s mostly a bunch of yuppie amateur hiker crap. Bite-valve water bottle, granola bars, a map of this particular national park’s trail system. A camera, a pair of binoculars, a pocket guide to North American birds. And there, buried at the very bottom of the bag, is a blue and white patterned bandanna. Sam dives for it and raises it to his nose just in time to catch the next sneeze.
“AHHHHtcshh!” He groans with relief and blows his nose, not even caring about the look of disgust that passes over Dean’s face.
After all, Dean’s the one who got him into this mess in the first place. Sam wipes his nose once more and shoves the bandana into his pocket.
“Alright, Snotty,” Dean says. “You done? I have no idea how far we still have to go, and I don’t want to be wandering around the woods at night with the world’s sneeziest giant.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m done.”
Dean gives him a sort of skeptical look. “And I’d go easy on that bandanna if I were you. Not like we have any extra tissues.”
“I’m fine.” Sam pushes past him. “I can take care of myself.”
Dean watches as Sam stomps down the path. Then his steps falter, pause, and Sam stumbles forward with another huge, “ITSHCHHAHhhuh…!”
Dean snorts. He has the feeling it’s going to be like this all way back to the car. Wherever that is.
tarotgal's commentfic meme. Just archiving it here in my own journal.Living Life, Allergy-Free
Prompt: Remember Changing Channels? What if instead of the Herpexia commercial, Gabriel put them in a commercial for allergy medicine… only once they’re done “playing their roles” for that particular segment, its effects haven’t quite worn off.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: PG for some swearing
“huh-KSHHHuh!”
Sam cups both hands in front of his face, catching the sneeze.
“I used to dread going outside. I couldn’t enjoy spending time with my friends, because my allergies got in the way.”
He looks miserable and disheartened, staring wistfully off into the distance.
“But now, I take once-daily Allervair, and the fresh air loves me again. Live your life, allergy-free!”
He smiles happily, and the sun shines on his face.
***
Allervair is totally worthless.
“You son of a b—TCHSSHHuh!” Sam grumbles at Dean. “I didn’t even—hhh… have allergies before you made me do this.”
“Hey, you’re the one who said play our roles,” Dean answers, grinning uncontrollably at his brother’s misery.
“You… you—KSHHAH! You suck. GHSHHuhh!”
“I’m the one who got shot, remember?” Dean says, grabbing Sam by the shoulder and turning his brother around to face him.
“I would rather have b—been… shot… hhhTSCHH! ISHHH! ahhh… TSHHAH! … God … mmphCHSHHUHH!” Sam swipes the sleeve of his windbreaker – yeah, that’s right, he’s wearing a windbreaker – under his nose and glares at Dean. “Ad dow we’re stugck here id the biddle of this fuckidg field…”
Dean raises his hands in a what do you want me to do? gesture. “Start walking, then.” He hitches his backpack further up on his shoulders and takes off down the path ahead of Sam.
Sam follows behind him, his hiking boots thumping against the dirt path. He doesn’t stop staring angrily at Dean’s back, except for when he has to stop and sneeze. “huh’CHSHH! heh’KSHH! ihh’TSHHuhh!” He sniffs and groans, cursing the Trickster, Dean, destiny, television, Mother Nature.
After awhile he realizes that he’s been staring curiously at Dean’s bright green, pocket-covered REI backpack for the past five minutes. “Hey, whad’s id your bagkpagk?” Sam asks, jogging a couple of steps to catch up to his brother.
Dean turns around. “What?”
Sam gestures at the backpack. “Whad’s id there?”
“Oh. Uh, I don’t know,” Dean replies. He shrugs it off and rests it on top of a nearby boulder and they both dig through it. It’s mostly a bunch of yuppie amateur hiker crap. Bite-valve water bottle, granola bars, a map of this particular national park’s trail system. A camera, a pair of binoculars, a pocket guide to North American birds. And there, buried at the very bottom of the bag, is a blue and white patterned bandanna. Sam dives for it and raises it to his nose just in time to catch the next sneeze.
“AHHHHtcshh!” He groans with relief and blows his nose, not even caring about the look of disgust that passes over Dean’s face.
After all, Dean’s the one who got him into this mess in the first place. Sam wipes his nose once more and shoves the bandana into his pocket.
“Alright, Snotty,” Dean says. “You done? I have no idea how far we still have to go, and I don’t want to be wandering around the woods at night with the world’s sneeziest giant.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m done.”
Dean gives him a sort of skeptical look. “And I’d go easy on that bandanna if I were you. Not like we have any extra tissues.”
“I’m fine.” Sam pushes past him. “I can take care of myself.”
Dean watches as Sam stomps down the path. Then his steps falter, pause, and Sam stumbles forward with another huge, “ITSHCHHAHhhuh…!”
Dean snorts. He has the feeling it’s going to be like this all way back to the car. Wherever that is.