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The Chicken PoxCategory: Supernatural Oneshot
Tuesday, 21 August 2007
01:59:10 AM (GMT)
This is a Supernatural story that I came up with earlier today and I havn't had time
till now to type it up. And you guys are my lucky first readers. I think it pretty
funny. Anyway tell me what you think of it.

The Chicken Pox

"Sammy?" John's voice was soft as he helped the boy onto the bed, cradling him in his
arms. "What's wrong?"

"Dean dead," the small voice cracked.

John shoved the door open and let it smack loudly against the wall. Dean jumped up in
bed, groaning as he did so. Flipping on the nearest light, John looked at his oldest
to see him covered in spots. With a groan, John set Sammy down on the floor and went
towards Dean.

"You gotta be kidding me," he muttered.

Dean was covered in red spots. He was scratching his left arm with a passion, then
working his way up to his neck. Looking miserably up at his father, he bit back his
complaints. John stood there in a trance. What the hell do you do for chicken pox?
Wasn't there something about a mayonnaise bath?

"Dean's not dead," John announced to his youngest while Dean narrowed his eyes at his
brother. "He's just… sick."

"Whys he gots polka dots?" asked Sammy as he took a slow step forward.

"Sam, get back!"

John scooped up Sammy into his arms to keep him from touching his brother. He didn't
need two kids with chicken pox. Adjusting Sam comfortably on his hip, he reached out
a hand for Dean who took it. Trying to think about if Oprah ever had a show on the
dreaded childhood disease to find out what to do, his mind went blank. There was some
sort of bath remedy to it.

Once in the kitchen, John instructed Dean to sit down and not to scratch himself. He
then opened the refrigerator looking for something that might work in a bath. He took
out the mayonnaise, two sticks of butter, and some grape juice. Setting them briefly
on the table, he walked to the cabinet and took out some corn flakes just for good
measure. Handing the box to Sammy, John told Dean to take what he could from the
table and then proceeded to take the rest.

"Okay, Dude, you gotta take a bath with this stuff."

Dean looked up at his father with as much uncertainty as John had about the
situation. He could have sworn the remedy had something to do with corn flakes and
grape juice. Perhaps the butter and mayonnaise were just delusions of his. Watching
as Dean hesitantly took off his shirt, John walked over and started drawing the
water. Dean sat down in the bath and stared at his father, doubt clouding his
features. Knowing that he had to do something, John poured the grape juice and the
corn flakes into the bath.

"Uh… rub them on you."

"You said not to scratch."

"Yeah, but not rub. You can rub all you want," John replied, his brain trying to
think of something else to put in the bath.

"Sammy, go find me some more juice."

John set the child down, and immediately he scampered off towards the kitchen.
Wearily, John rubbed his chin as he stared at the butter and mayonnaise. Perhaps the
trick was melting the butter? Two solid sticks surely wouldn't do anything. Turning
his attention on his son, John watched as Dean rubbed the concoction on his body in
disgust. Soon enough, small footfalls could be heard coming back down the hallway.
Sammy appeared in the doorway, sliding thanks to his bunny pajamas.

John reached down and grabbed the juice. It was apple juice. Something about an apple
a day and keeping the doctors away rang in his head. Shrugging, he poured the apple
juice directly on Dean, who let out a grumble. Setting the jug on the sink, John
didn't notice Sammy waddling towards the bath, grabbing a handful of soggy cereal,
and shoving it in his mouth.

"Ugh, gross, Sammy," Dean commented.


John rushed forward and plucked the boy up off the ground. Taking the boy to the
sink, he ordered the boy to spit out the contents. Instead of listening, the boy
shook his head before swallowing. Groaning, John adjusted Sam on his hip once more
determined not to let the boy down until he was fast asleep.

After a good twenty minutes, Sammy was asleep in John's arms and Dean was beginning
to complain about the bath. Motioning for his son to get out of the tub, he awkwardly
tried to wrap a towel around his son with one hand. Dean dried off before pulling on
his pajamas. Wrapping an arm around his eldest, John led the boys towards his
bedroom. Settling Sammy down under the sheets, John left the room to retrieve gloves
and duct tape. In his absence, Dean climbed on the bed and adjusted the covers on his
kid brother since his father didn't cover him up fully.

When John came back in the room, he shoved a pair of oversized gloves on Dean's small
hand and proceeded to wrap duct tape around his wrists to keep the darn things on.
Climbing over Dean, John settled himself in the middle of the bed and opened the
covers for his eldest. Sammy instinctively turned into his father, wrapping a small
arm around his chest. Dean cuddled close to his father, resting his head in the crook
of his shoulder.

The next thing John knew was that something was tugging on his earlobe. Quirking an
eye open, Sammy was sitting up with bright red spots covering his face. He didn't
have enough corn flakes and juice for this. Glancing over at Dean, he noticed the boy
was still fast asleep. Hoisting Sammy up by the armpits, John swung the boy into his
arms as he got out of bed and made his way towards the kitchen.

"Ice creeeeem bath?" Sammy pleaded as John rummaged through the cupboards.

"No, Sammy, we need something that will actually help you."

Opening the cabinet that held the cereal, John looked at his choices. Actually, there
was only one choice: Lucky Charms. Maybe if he took out the marshmallows it would
work. Grabbing the box, John shoved it in Sammy's hands before going to the fridge.
Opening it up, he looked at his less than favorable choices: beer and milk. He needed
juice. Why'd he use all the juice on Dean? Shaking his head, John turned towards the
small freezer to see he had frozen fruit popsicles. Grabbing the box, he opened the
popsicles and placed them in a bowl before putting them in the microwave. Satisfied
when they were completely melted, he picked out the sticks before grabbing the bowl
and making his way to the bathroom.

Settling Sammy down on the edge of the tub, John instructed his son to pick out all
the marshmallows from the box. Meanwhile, John drew the water and glanced at Sammy
who was shoving fistfuls of cereal in his mouth.

"Sammy! I said only the marshmallows!"

"Hungry," he replied as another handful of cereal was stuffed in his mouth, several
pieces falling on the floor.

Taking the box from his son, he helped Sammy get undressed before plopping him down
into the water. He poured the bowl of melted popsicles on his son before running out
of the bathroom to the kitchen to grab a loaf of bread. Relieved to see Sammy managed
not to drown himself, John started to throw the slices of bread into the water. Once
the bread was soggy, John grabbed a couple pieces and rubbed them on Sam's spotted
skin. The boy flinched and made noises of protest.

"Dad," a small voice said from behind him, "what are you doing to Sammy?"

"Improvising," John muttered, scratching his arm.

Eyes growing slightly wide, John noticed he had spots of his own on his skin. He
turned around to Dean who smirked when he saw his father's face. He certainly didn't
have enough bread or any juice to give himself a bath. What the hell was he supposed
to do?

"Dean, call Pastor Jim and tell him I need corn flakes, bread, and juice."

Obediently Dean went towards the living room. Turning his attention back to Sammy,
John continued to rub the soggy bread soaked with water and popsicles on his son.
Before long, Dean reappeared in the bathroom complaining that he couldn't dial the
phone with the gloves on. Grabbing the phone, John dialed the all too familiar number
of his pastor friend.

"Jim, it's John… yeah, nice to hear you too… look, I need a favor… no, no, not
that kind of favor…. it's the boys, I need some stuff… no, I can't I got it
too… just some corn flakes, bread, and juice… specific juice? No any kind will
do… well, maybe grape and apple… thanks…. you know where we're staying?...
good… thanks again."

John clicked off the phone and handed it back to Dean, telling him to wait in the
living room for him. Taking Sam out of the bath five minutes later, he dried him off
and helped him back into his bunny pajamas. He carried the squirming toddler out into
the living room and plopped him down on the couch with his brother who found some
cartoon with superhero cats.

"Dean, make sure he doesn’t scratch himself," John ordered as he walked back to the
bedroom to retrieve the duct tape.

Finding a pair of mittens of Sammy's, John took them and went into the living room.
Placing the mittens on his son, he taped bands to secure the fabric from coming off.
He picked up Sammy, took his spot next to Dean, and plopped the smaller boy onto his
lap. John snaked his free arm around his older son who immediately leaned his body
into his father's side.

An hour later, a knock sounded at the front door to the duplex. Knowing it was the
pastor, John called for him to come in. Pastor Jim walked into the small home and
looked at the three Winchesters sitting on the couch. His brows furrowed as he noted
the duct tape and gloves on the boys. John turned around at that moment, and
everything became clear. Well, not everything.

"John, why did you need this stuff?" he asked as he slowly approached the couch.

"I gave Dean his bath last night and Sammy's this morning, but I had to improvise
with Sammy. I mean, I melted popsicles but they have the fruit in them."

"John, what in God's name are you talking about?"

"You know, the chicken pox cure.  It took me awhile to think about it. I saw it on
Oprah or something. Anyways, you put the kids in some form of grain and fruit mixture

"You bathed Dean and Sammy in juice and cereal?"



"Look, I need to take that bath, so can I have the stuff? Thanks by the way."

John transferred Sammy over to Dean before getting up off the couch and walking
towards the pastor with his arms stretched out for the bag. The pastor, however,
stepped back and stared at John.

"John, you don't help chicken pox with cereal and juice baths," he started slowly.

"Don't tell me it's mayonnaise and butter… dammit, that was my first thought but it
didn't seem right to mix those with water."

"Oatmeal, John. It's an oatmeal bath."



"Are you sure?"


He glanced towards his sons briefly before turning back to the pastor whose
expression was nothing but concern.


"Seriously, John."

"Dean, grab Sammy and go to the bathroom. You two need to take another bath."

"Dad, the cereal and juice was just gross," Dean whined as he stood up with Sammy in
his arms.

"Forget that. You need oatmeal. I got it wrong."

"Oatmeal?" Dean's face scrunched up in disgust. "That's even worse."

"Oatmeal? Seriously, Jim?" asked John once more while Dean slowly walked towards the
bathroom as though he was being put to death.

"Why would it be cereal and juice?"

"Oatmeal is a grain, right? So at least I got part of it right."

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