dean is sick, dean is a sickness.
there are two sides to every story.
this is what it feels like:
Derek has been in a lot of bad situations. This one easily makes the top five. Or would, if Dean and Sam Winchester were actually acting like the sadistic psychopaths he expected them to be. Instead, Dean is referencing Star Trek, Sam is comforting Reid, and Derek has never been more confused.
After Purgatory, normal isn't normal anymore, and Dean kind of deals. Sam helps. Written before season eight, so no spoilers.
Just your basic Dean has the flu and Castiel takes care of him fic....
Dean wanders into the kitchen just then. “First of all, I’m not sick. Second of all, why would I knowingly let anyone inject me with a virus? And second of all, I am not sick.”
“Third of all,” says Cas.
“You already said second of all.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Also, you said you weren’t sick twice. “ Cas adds seriously. “I believe Shakespeare referred to that as protesting too much.”
“Jesus, no wonder my head hurts.”
Bookmarked by acephantom
30 Nov 2020
John was going slowly enough to get a glimpse of the hookers' faces. Some of them looked old and worn, and others looked no more than goddamned kids.
And then his heart gave a lurch in his chest and he nearly slammed on the brakes, remembering at the last moment to ease off so the car wouldn't veer. His hands trembled so badly he had to tighten his fingers on the wheel to keep them steady. He crawled along the curb, then slowed to a stop. The boy who had been standing there came around to the driver's side and leaned over the foggy window, one hand braced on the roof.
"Lookin' for company?"