#anyway good morning don’t mind me i slept like 5 hours my brain is soup

[scionshtola]

i can’t go to work today i’ve got to report for yuri duty

[missmaam123]

We're Here For You

DISCLAIMER- I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL

Summary- Basically fluff, lol. After what happened in 12x16 with Claire, she’s not left as a werewolf, but with a cold.

Characters- Claire Novak, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mick Davies (mentioned), Jody Mills (mentioned), Alex Jones (mentioned)

Warnings- sickness?, cursing

A/N- Sorry this is up later than expected, something came up yesterday and I had NO time to write. Also, this is just a cuter, more fluffy way to end 12x16 because I love the fact that Claire basically has 3 fathers. Also, I’m still butt hurt about the fact that Cas hasn’t been in the past 2 episodes with Claire in them. I just couldn’t think of a way to write him in. Also, I wrote it to where Mick had already left and gone back to the BMOL headquarters or whatever the hell they’re called. Anyway, this has been like the longest into ever. Onto the story!

Claire POV

It’s been a few hours since the whole werewolf incident had gone down. The weird foreign exchange student type dude whose name I learned was Mick had left.

I had felt off since I had been changed back. I figured it was just the side effects of the cure. We were riding back to the hotel that Sam and Dean were staying at when I started to feel a funny tickle in the back of my nose.

Then it happened.

I sneezed.

Immediately after, Sam and Dean chorused “Bless you”.

It was quite funny actually. It was as if it was a reflex.

General POV

Worry laced Dean’s features as he was driving and said “You feelin okay kid? You’ve had a pretty rough night”.

“I’m ok, I just don’t feel the greatest.” Claire responded.

“You think you’re getting sick?” Sam asked, also becoming concerned.

“Maybe, I should be fine by tomorrow.” Claire said before going into a small coughing fit.

The boys shared a look that didn’t go unnoticed by Claire.

“I’m fine guys, don’t worry” Claire said trying to reason with them, exhausted.

The guys decided not to push her. Poor kid almost died tonight.

As they got out of the Impala, the guys noticed how pale Claire looked. She stumbled as she got out of the car, and if it weren’t for Dean, she probably would’ve face planted.

“Hey, hey, stay with me Claire” Dean tried to tell Claire as the valet took the car.

It was no use though because Claire was struggling to stay awake.

Dean sighed and scooped Claire up in his arms and could immediately feel the heat radiating off of her. He then carried her bridal style up to his room, trying his best to ignore some of the looks he was getting from people.

It was understandable. Dean was around 20 years older than Claire, and it would probably look suspicious seeing an older, gruff looking man carrying a young blonde.

When they got to Dean’s room, he laid Claire down on one of the two beds he had.

Why Mick got their rooms with two beds, he didn’t know. At the moment though, Dean was very thankful for that extra bed.

“It’s probably just a side effect from the cure, or she could just be sick” Sam said trying to assure Dean.

Claire then managed to wake herself up a good while later after Sam had gone to the store and gotten some supplies. Tissues, meds, some soup, and a few other little things.

Claire sighed as she plucked another tissue out of the box and sneezed into it again. She had been sneezing for a good five minutes non-stop. The boys blessed her with each one as if it was drilled into their brains.

Dean was really beginning to get really worried. He walked over to her and put his hand on her forehead.

“You’ve got one hell of a fever there” Dean said in his fatherly tone.

Truth is, even though Dean would never admit it, both Sam and Dean loved Claire as if she was their daughter.

“I feel like shit” Claire mumbled.

“You think you’d be up for a ride back to the bunker? I could drive your car back and you can sleep.” Sam offered.

“Yeah, I guess” Claire said, before sneezing yet again

“Bless you” the boys chorused, yet again.

There weren’t that many interruptions that night. Sam ended up going back to his room, telling Dean to call if anything happened. Dean ended up crashing in the other bed.

Claire was still sneezing her head off, but managed to get some sleep.

Morning came, and Sam went to get some breakfast. He got some fruit and tea for Claire and him and Dean their usual.

Back at the hotel, Claire woke up still feeling shitty. Dean kept a close eye on her throughout the morning.

After everything was packed into the Impala and Claire’s car, they all piled up and headed out.

Claire was curled up in the front seat in a big blanket with a pillow up against the passenger window, with her sock-covered feet on Dean’s lap sleeping. Claire was a bit hesitant to get that comfortable in Dean’s “Baby”, but luckily Dean didn’t mind.

Dean had never seen Claire so vulnerable. She was always a badass hunter that didn’t take shit from anyone. Now though, things have completely shifted. Claire was passed out in the passengers seat with a crumbled up tissue in hand looking absolutely pitiful.

A few hours later when Claire had woken up, everyone was starting to hungry. They found a little diner to stop at.

Dean ordered a burger, Sam ordered his salad, and Claire just got some chicken noodle soup and some more hot tea.

“You really don’t feel good do you? You’re normally a burger type of girl” Dean said sympathetically.

Claire shook her head no and got THE face.

Sam and Dean knew that face well, it was the face she made when she was about to sneeze.

Sam hurriedly got a napkin out of the dispenser and handed it to her.

Claire then sneezed about 5 times before sniffling and groaning.

“As soon as we get back, it’s more meds and bed for you, ya hear?” Dean said strictly, yet softly.

Claire just simply nodded.

Everyone ate fairly quickly, eager to get back on the road and back to the bunker.

They all piled back up in their cars and headed back to the bunker.

Claire was texting Alex telling her what had happened. As expected, Jody and Alex weren’t very happy, but in the end they were just happy she was safe.

By the time they pulled into the bunkers’ garage, Claire had fallen asleep again. Dean turned off the engine and sighed. Poor kid had practically been to hell and back in the past 48 hours.

Dean decided not to wake her and picked her up, yet again, and carried her to one of the guest rooms. Sam grabbed some more medicine for her to take when she woke up and followed.

Dean gently laid Claire on the bed. She stirred and opened her eyes.

“How the hell did I get here?” Claire mumbled.

“We drove, but you slept for most of the ride. You were still sleeping so I just carried ya in here” Dean said.

“Thank you” Claire said before sneezing twice.

“Bless you” both boys chorused.

Claire couldn’t help but roll her eyes and giggle at the amount of times the boys have said that in the past could of days.

It was then that she realized that they would always, truly, be there for her. For anything she needed.

Hope you guys liked it!

@miss-katie-winchester

[kittywildegrrl]

MAMA CAT CLAWS HER WAY BACK

Good afternoon from Memphis, darlings! My, but it’s been a while. As I await my delightful bloody Mary here in the friendly confines of the Sun Studio bar & grill on Concourse B, a full two hours before boarding, it seems like a good time to catch up.

Here’s what I started for you on the evening of January 18th:

Good evening, darlings. Here I sit at the bar of VYNL, waiting for the lovely and talented Sharps (Adam & Bethany), that we may dine and catch up. Yes that’s right, Mama’s back in Manhattan. Flying out tomorrow night for Minneapolis, where three Murder Mystery shows and a commercial shoot all await me this weekend.

As you may recall, when last I visited NYC, in October, I was waylaid by illness and spent about half of my month here laying on the couch and ordering Grub Hub. Not as much fun as it sounds, believe you me. The lovely and talented Shannon Haddock, and her equally lovely and talented husband Phillip, gave me not just a place to crash while in the city taking classes and doing auditions, they ended up allowing their living room to be a sick room. For this, I probably owe them like a trip to Europe or something.

That’s when Adam showed up and we got talking politics and Bethany arrived and we had a wonderful meal and good times and solved ALL of the theatre and ALL of the politics. The wine helped. They even bought me dinner. I have a lot of very awesome friends. And later that night, the dreadful Cold From Hell kicked in bigtime. I spent my last day in New York packing and resting up for the plane. Shannon met me at Caffe Reggio (thanks for the tea and carrot soup!) and helped me to the train to the airport. Later that night, I found out how fun it is to receive emergency medical treatment on a plane. Good times.

So the next day, Phil took me to the doctor. My doctor gave me 2 inoculations, a prescription for antibiotics, and a prescription for Prednisone (the miracle steroid). Well one man’s miracle is evidently a MamaCat’s nightmare. The day after finishing the prescription for Prednisone, I started to feel really, really awful. I had thought I was recovering, but ZOOM! Down the rabbit hole of symptoms I went. By 5:30 on a Saturday morning, we were frantically searching for which ER is “In Network” for us. I literally thought I was dying. I told my dog goodbye forever. I gave Phil my last wishes. I really, really thought this was the well-known “It”. I have never been so terrified in my life. It was two days before my 59th birthday and I was crying all the way to the hospital because I knew I would never live to see that birthday.

So we get to the ER, I’m barely able to function, and just as I was asking the admitting personnel, “Can I get some help” -- down I went in a heap. I had been falling down and dropping things for a few days now, and I was pretty sure we were about to find a brain tumor.

Four hours. Saline IV drip, CT scan, chest Xray, CBC, you name it. We probably ran out our entire [idiotically high] out-of-pocket in one morning. And they told me, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Feel free to scream if you wish. I just about did.

For you see, in MamaCat’s innocence and delirium, when they asked me if I felt like I was having mental issues, I didn’t stop with, “Yes, tremendous cognitive issues. I am having trouble (big pause while I reached for the words) accessing polysyllables. That’s not like me.” Oh no. Silly girl. They pursued with, “Are you depressed?” and like a fool, I said, “Yes, frankly, I’ve been experiencing depression since around 6pm on November 8th. You want to make me feel better, get me a REAL President.” The ER doctor, in her wisdom, said, “I’m a doctor. I can’t change who the President is. Do you understand that I can’t do that for you?” Oh, please. Really, ER doctor?? “So, do you feel like you’re losing your mind?” “Yes, I kind of do, that’s what it feels like. I’m certainly not myself.”

I had thought we were discussing what my symptoms felt like. That’s when it took a turn.

“Well, we can’t help you here. We don’t have appropriate facilities here to help someone with your issues. We’re going to hold you until 2pm, when the psychiatrist can accompany you to an appropriate facility.”

WHAT the actual FUCK???

Oh yeah.

They wanted MamaCat committed.

My husband refused their request on my behalf, I refused their request on my own behalf, and that’s when the ER doctor informed me, “I’m sorry We can’t let you go. You have to be moved to the appropriate facility, where they have people who can help you.” Sweet bleeding cheeses on the cracker. Can’t LET me go?! Wanna hear MY thoughts on the subject?!?!

Husband Cat, being the hero that he is, politely (and with Captain Kirk-level firmness) informed the staff that what his wife needed was to be on the couch at home with Nellie the Yaris. (Our rescue dog is the most unique mutt, so we gave her a breed name. She’s a One-Eyed Yaris.) And he was right! But they were pretty nasty about it. They thought they had landed ‘em a big ol’ Crazee and they were most reluctant to catch and release. Nevertheless, we went right the hell home, and I slept something like 20 of the next 24 hours. Also, the film and the gigs? Didn’t happen for me that weekend. You saw that coming, didn’t you?

When I woke up, I was SO much better. Weak as the proverbial kitten, but clear of mind and ready for coffee. The thing is, I had been so out of it that it never occurred to me to simply look up my symptom set online. Me. Little Miss Research. Didn’t think to go to the Google machine. Guess what? That’s one of the many, many symptoms of a bad Prednisone reaction. Here a few of the symptoms I experienced:

agitation

blurred vision

decrease in the amount of urine

dizziness

fast, slow, pounding, or irregular heartbeat or pulse

headache

irritability

mood changes

numbness or tingling in the arms or legs

pounding in the ears

shortness of breath

trouble thinking, speaking, or walking

troubled breathing at rest

abdominal or stomach pain

backache

cough or hoarseness

diarrhea

dry mouth

eye pain

fainting

fever or chills

heartburn or indigestion (severe and continuous)

increased thirst

loss of appetite

lower back or side pain

muscle pain or tenderness

muscle wasting or weakness

pain in the back, ribs, arms, or legs

painful or difficult urination

sweating

trouble healing

trouble sleeping

unusual tiredness or weakness

vision changes

(source: WebMD, drugs.com)

One MD, one EMT, 2 nurses, and a PA, and nobody thought “drug reaction”. We had brought them the very pill containers themselves, so that they would have complete information right up front as to what I had been taking. And they thought, “Crazy Lady must be Mental” before anybody thought, “drug reaction”.

(”We thought ‘Indian headdress’ before we thought ‘hat’” -- HIMYM)

Well, guess what? I’m fixin’ to find out if that’s actionable, cats and kittens. MamaCat don’t allow no BS ‘round here. Smells like malpractice.

Anyway… all I have now is the good old “UPTA flu,” which is contracted by bringing about 700 theatre makers together for a long weekend, on planes from all over, so we can all audition and hug and so forth. It’s been a fun winter for respiratory contagions of all varieties, all over the country, and those of us who have been on a lot of planes are having the most fun with that. And I have learned a little something about my relationship with Prednisone – I had been given a smaller Prednisone dosage in Cortland when I was so sick during KITCHEN WITCHES and had experienced milder versions of these symptoms, but never connected it with the steroid. I think it is not good for me. Good for some people, but not for MamaCat. 

Well, as I said to some beloved producers I saw at UPTA, I may as well avoid steroids altogether. If I want to switch careers to Major League Baseball, I’d never make it to Cooperstown if there were steroids involved. And the way my Minnesota Twins play, the MLB is a viable option for me.

Love you, darlings. Be well. Do good work. Meow.