Post by yor on Apr 25, 2009 3:47:02 GMT 1
Ok, so I should be doing 20 other things, but I did this piece instead. No beta, no nothing...
I just needed it.
For what it's worth...
Jump the shark... the missing scene.
“Put pressure on that.”
Sam’s head swam. It was entirely beyond him how he was supposed to hold pressure on any of his wounds. His hands each fumbled to grasp on to the other forearm though. Dean had told him to apply pressure and deep down, he knew he couldn’t disappoint his brother. It simply wasn’t allowed.
He gasped for a few quick breaths to keep his focus and relished the warmth of his brother’s immediate concern. He needed it. He craved it. He didn’t always feel it lately.
He felt his world beginning to sway and longed for Dean’s sturdy presence to bolster his waning strength. He glanced quickly for
Dean, willing him to return.
He did.
“Dean…”
“Shut up. I found both their bodies. I’ll tell you later.” Dean produced bathroom towels and proceeded to wrap them more tightly around Sam’s wounded arms. “Right now you need to focus on the story. You fell…”
Sam pulled slightly back. “No… you can stitch ‘em up.” He felt his words slurring.
“Ha… Yeah, right… Not these babies. Next thing I know you’ll bitch about one missed stitch. No thanks. I’ll let a doc make your arms all pretty again.”
Sam began to fall backward, his strength quickly lapsing. “No story… cuts…”
Dean smirked. “You’re getting weak, bro. You fell through a half broken window.” He continued as he imagined the scene play out in his mind. It made things more convincing. “Yeah, you stumbled over those gangly legs of yours.” Suddenly he leaned over and untied Sam’s boot. “I’m always telling you to check those damn boot laces. It was the dumbest accident.”
Sam snorted through half-closed eyes. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
Dean pushed Sam back onto the table before he fell and finished freeing the restraints. “Let’s go, sasquatch.” He wrapped his arm around Sam’s side to pull him up and felt stickiness. “What the hell?”
Sam remembered the wound in his side. “He dug his finger…”
Dean stopped and pulled his flashlight from his pocket. “Damn… that’ll be harder to explain…”
Sam’s brain had all but ceased to function. “Lucy… You gots some..”
Dean shook his head. “Shut up.”
Within minutes Dean had Sam loaded into the Impala and they were on the way to the hospital. As he drove, he ignored the blood seeping through the towels he’d wrapped tightly on the wounds. He knew better than to pull them off. Instead he worked on their story. He knew better than to dwell on what had just happened. There would be time enough for that as he waited for Sam’s treatment.
SPN
Dean wasn’t sure what ached more, his body or his brain. Reliving Adam’s discovery and the subsequent battle with the ghoul left him exhausted. Now, all he had to do was wait. He couldn’t sleep. He had no idea when someone would come for him and when they did, he needed to be prepared.
They didn’t seem to love his story. He and Sam had been screwing around in that abandoned house, throwing some punches. That should have accounted for the marks on their faces. They were prepping for an ultimate fighting tournament, but then Sam tripped and fell against that window.
So far, they hadn’t asked about the puncture wound in his side. He hoped they bought the metal pipe at the side of the window.
There had to be windows with pipes near them, right?
He suspected they were getting to old or too tired for some of their hospital yarns.
He had no idea how long he waited when the nurse finally came to take him to Sam. The doctor was just signing a chart. “How’s my brother?”
The doctor nodded. “Those were some nasty cuts. You know you shouldn’t have removed the glass, right? He wouldn’t have lost as much blood.”
Dean swallowed the desire to argue and merely nodded. “I know. I just reacted. I had to get him out of there.”
“As it is, he’s resting. Barring infection, he should heal fine.” The doctor chuckled. “I’m sure someone counted, but I lost count of the number of stitches. We’ll be moving him to a room upstairs.”
Dean nodded. “When can he come home?”
The doctor raised an eyebrow. “His condition is quite serious. He lost a lot of blood.”
“But he’s going to be ok, right?” Dean added, with intensity. “I mean, he’s all I have. I just want to make sure I have everything we’ll need at home. Bandages, prescriptions and stuff. I imagine he’ll need some help.” Dean knew Sam would have laughed at the sincerity in his voice.
The doctor took a prescription pad from his pocket and scribbled several notes. “You can get these filled.”
“Thanks a lot. I’ll be ready.” Dean accepted the papers. There was only one plan. He would charm the nearest nurse to fill them or distract her and steal the drugs. There would be no pharmacy.
When the doctor left, Dean checked in on Sam, who was sound asleep with his heavily bandaged arms resting across his abdomen. He waited only a short while before departing to put the rest of his plans in action.
He returned after having lifted a few other supplies and stashing them in the Impala. The hardest part would be moving Sam. As he returned to Sam’s side, his guilt level rose.
Sam was pale. Worse yet, the staff had him on oxygen. He sank into the chair to wait for a nurse. When one finally came in, he asked about it.
“When someone’s lost as much blood, we give the oxygen as a precaution. Just to make sure the body hasn’t weakened too much.” She smiled. “He’s breathing well on his own, really. I’m sure it will be gone by morning, when his levels are all more normal across the board.”
Dean thanked her and sank back in the chair wondering if he really could rouse his brother and take him away. Could he wait until morning? Sam needed the rest? Sam could rest in a hotel room. Dean could care for him as well as any nurse. He snorted. OK, so he certainly wasn’t as hot as the number down the hall, but Sam never seemed to appreciate a good nursing staff like Dean did.
Then again, Sam seemed able to avoid hospital stays. It had always been Dean’s job to ensure that.
Even now… He wondered how the hell he was supposed to save Sam from Sam?
He growled… a little too loudly. Sam stirred.
“De…an?”
Dean rose and went to the bedside. “Hey Sammy, the doc got you all patched up.”
Sam’s head lolled on the pillow as he fought to come into awareness. “How… Where…” He stopped and swallowed. He licked his dry lips.
Dean got the hint. “Hang on.” As he held a cup of water to Sam’s lips, he also lifted his brother’s head gently. “Fluids are a good thing, but not too much, ok.”
Sam stopped drinking and mumbled something incoherent. Dean reset his brother and couldn’t help but smile at how helpless and innocent Sam looked. It had been a long time. “Sleep, ya bitch.”
That was enough for Sam. His eyes snapped open. “Jerk.”
“Whoa!” Dean backed away. “You are pumped full of drugs. The good stuff too.” He gestured over his shoulder at the IV bag.
“Enjoy.”
Sam shook his head. “No…” His voice was too quiet to make a strong argument, but he continued. “We have… to go.”
Dean watched as his brother winced and moaned through an attempt to rise. “How’s that going for you?”
“No insurance.” Sam muttered.
Dean rested his hand on Sam’s chest. “It can wait until morning. You need to rest. They can take care of you.”
Sam’s eyes flashed pain and focused clearly on Dean for the first time. “You can take care of me.”
Dean sighed. The grown man, possibly going evil before him vanished and in his place was the young boy who believed in his big brother implicitly. “Ok. Hang on.”
Dean secured a wheelchair and snagged a few bags of Sam’s IV fluid before helping his brother into the chair. He took the blanket from the bed and tucked it securely around Sam. When Sam was secure, he slipped down the hall a few more rooms, and detached a few wires from another sleeping patient to cause an alarm and when the floor nurses were distracted, he wheeled Sam out the door.
SPN
For the next few days, Dean tended to Sam. He changed the IV’s for as long as it held and then made sure to keep the wounds clean and dry. Sam remained mostly out of it. Whenever he woke, Dean plied Sam with soft foods and drink… and kept him drugged.
He knew he didn’t need to, but Dean wasn’t quite ready to have the conversations with Sam he knew were coming. He was still sorting through recent events in his own mind.
After a few days, he worried as Sam appeared to develop an infection, but it eased off the next day. He did ease off the medications which left Sam drowsy, but Sam continued to rest. Dean couldn’t help wonder if his brother was doing some processing of his own.
When a week had passed, Sam was moving more and doing for himself. The wounds were well on their way to healing and Sam was up for most of the day, with the exception of a nap or two. They spent their days researching and even tried and evening or two out.
After ten days, Sam insisted it was time to leave. Dean pulled the Impala alongside a clearing in the woods on the way out of town.
“What are we doing here?” Sam asked.
“We owe this to Adam.”
Sam looked over and saw a pyre assembled and a lone body wrapped in the middle. He turned back to Dean for an explanation.
I just needed it.
For what it's worth...
Jump the shark... the missing scene.
“Put pressure on that.”
Sam’s head swam. It was entirely beyond him how he was supposed to hold pressure on any of his wounds. His hands each fumbled to grasp on to the other forearm though. Dean had told him to apply pressure and deep down, he knew he couldn’t disappoint his brother. It simply wasn’t allowed.
He gasped for a few quick breaths to keep his focus and relished the warmth of his brother’s immediate concern. He needed it. He craved it. He didn’t always feel it lately.
He felt his world beginning to sway and longed for Dean’s sturdy presence to bolster his waning strength. He glanced quickly for
Dean, willing him to return.
He did.
“Dean…”
“Shut up. I found both their bodies. I’ll tell you later.” Dean produced bathroom towels and proceeded to wrap them more tightly around Sam’s wounded arms. “Right now you need to focus on the story. You fell…”
Sam pulled slightly back. “No… you can stitch ‘em up.” He felt his words slurring.
“Ha… Yeah, right… Not these babies. Next thing I know you’ll bitch about one missed stitch. No thanks. I’ll let a doc make your arms all pretty again.”
Sam began to fall backward, his strength quickly lapsing. “No story… cuts…”
Dean smirked. “You’re getting weak, bro. You fell through a half broken window.” He continued as he imagined the scene play out in his mind. It made things more convincing. “Yeah, you stumbled over those gangly legs of yours.” Suddenly he leaned over and untied Sam’s boot. “I’m always telling you to check those damn boot laces. It was the dumbest accident.”
Sam snorted through half-closed eyes. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
Dean pushed Sam back onto the table before he fell and finished freeing the restraints. “Let’s go, sasquatch.” He wrapped his arm around Sam’s side to pull him up and felt stickiness. “What the hell?”
Sam remembered the wound in his side. “He dug his finger…”
Dean stopped and pulled his flashlight from his pocket. “Damn… that’ll be harder to explain…”
Sam’s brain had all but ceased to function. “Lucy… You gots some..”
Dean shook his head. “Shut up.”
Within minutes Dean had Sam loaded into the Impala and they were on the way to the hospital. As he drove, he ignored the blood seeping through the towels he’d wrapped tightly on the wounds. He knew better than to pull them off. Instead he worked on their story. He knew better than to dwell on what had just happened. There would be time enough for that as he waited for Sam’s treatment.
SPN
Dean wasn’t sure what ached more, his body or his brain. Reliving Adam’s discovery and the subsequent battle with the ghoul left him exhausted. Now, all he had to do was wait. He couldn’t sleep. He had no idea when someone would come for him and when they did, he needed to be prepared.
They didn’t seem to love his story. He and Sam had been screwing around in that abandoned house, throwing some punches. That should have accounted for the marks on their faces. They were prepping for an ultimate fighting tournament, but then Sam tripped and fell against that window.
So far, they hadn’t asked about the puncture wound in his side. He hoped they bought the metal pipe at the side of the window.
There had to be windows with pipes near them, right?
He suspected they were getting to old or too tired for some of their hospital yarns.
He had no idea how long he waited when the nurse finally came to take him to Sam. The doctor was just signing a chart. “How’s my brother?”
The doctor nodded. “Those were some nasty cuts. You know you shouldn’t have removed the glass, right? He wouldn’t have lost as much blood.”
Dean swallowed the desire to argue and merely nodded. “I know. I just reacted. I had to get him out of there.”
“As it is, he’s resting. Barring infection, he should heal fine.” The doctor chuckled. “I’m sure someone counted, but I lost count of the number of stitches. We’ll be moving him to a room upstairs.”
Dean nodded. “When can he come home?”
The doctor raised an eyebrow. “His condition is quite serious. He lost a lot of blood.”
“But he’s going to be ok, right?” Dean added, with intensity. “I mean, he’s all I have. I just want to make sure I have everything we’ll need at home. Bandages, prescriptions and stuff. I imagine he’ll need some help.” Dean knew Sam would have laughed at the sincerity in his voice.
The doctor took a prescription pad from his pocket and scribbled several notes. “You can get these filled.”
“Thanks a lot. I’ll be ready.” Dean accepted the papers. There was only one plan. He would charm the nearest nurse to fill them or distract her and steal the drugs. There would be no pharmacy.
When the doctor left, Dean checked in on Sam, who was sound asleep with his heavily bandaged arms resting across his abdomen. He waited only a short while before departing to put the rest of his plans in action.
He returned after having lifted a few other supplies and stashing them in the Impala. The hardest part would be moving Sam. As he returned to Sam’s side, his guilt level rose.
Sam was pale. Worse yet, the staff had him on oxygen. He sank into the chair to wait for a nurse. When one finally came in, he asked about it.
“When someone’s lost as much blood, we give the oxygen as a precaution. Just to make sure the body hasn’t weakened too much.” She smiled. “He’s breathing well on his own, really. I’m sure it will be gone by morning, when his levels are all more normal across the board.”
Dean thanked her and sank back in the chair wondering if he really could rouse his brother and take him away. Could he wait until morning? Sam needed the rest? Sam could rest in a hotel room. Dean could care for him as well as any nurse. He snorted. OK, so he certainly wasn’t as hot as the number down the hall, but Sam never seemed to appreciate a good nursing staff like Dean did.
Then again, Sam seemed able to avoid hospital stays. It had always been Dean’s job to ensure that.
Even now… He wondered how the hell he was supposed to save Sam from Sam?
He growled… a little too loudly. Sam stirred.
“De…an?”
Dean rose and went to the bedside. “Hey Sammy, the doc got you all patched up.”
Sam’s head lolled on the pillow as he fought to come into awareness. “How… Where…” He stopped and swallowed. He licked his dry lips.
Dean got the hint. “Hang on.” As he held a cup of water to Sam’s lips, he also lifted his brother’s head gently. “Fluids are a good thing, but not too much, ok.”
Sam stopped drinking and mumbled something incoherent. Dean reset his brother and couldn’t help but smile at how helpless and innocent Sam looked. It had been a long time. “Sleep, ya bitch.”
That was enough for Sam. His eyes snapped open. “Jerk.”
“Whoa!” Dean backed away. “You are pumped full of drugs. The good stuff too.” He gestured over his shoulder at the IV bag.
“Enjoy.”
Sam shook his head. “No…” His voice was too quiet to make a strong argument, but he continued. “We have… to go.”
Dean watched as his brother winced and moaned through an attempt to rise. “How’s that going for you?”
“No insurance.” Sam muttered.
Dean rested his hand on Sam’s chest. “It can wait until morning. You need to rest. They can take care of you.”
Sam’s eyes flashed pain and focused clearly on Dean for the first time. “You can take care of me.”
Dean sighed. The grown man, possibly going evil before him vanished and in his place was the young boy who believed in his big brother implicitly. “Ok. Hang on.”
Dean secured a wheelchair and snagged a few bags of Sam’s IV fluid before helping his brother into the chair. He took the blanket from the bed and tucked it securely around Sam. When Sam was secure, he slipped down the hall a few more rooms, and detached a few wires from another sleeping patient to cause an alarm and when the floor nurses were distracted, he wheeled Sam out the door.
SPN
For the next few days, Dean tended to Sam. He changed the IV’s for as long as it held and then made sure to keep the wounds clean and dry. Sam remained mostly out of it. Whenever he woke, Dean plied Sam with soft foods and drink… and kept him drugged.
He knew he didn’t need to, but Dean wasn’t quite ready to have the conversations with Sam he knew were coming. He was still sorting through recent events in his own mind.
After a few days, he worried as Sam appeared to develop an infection, but it eased off the next day. He did ease off the medications which left Sam drowsy, but Sam continued to rest. Dean couldn’t help wonder if his brother was doing some processing of his own.
When a week had passed, Sam was moving more and doing for himself. The wounds were well on their way to healing and Sam was up for most of the day, with the exception of a nap or two. They spent their days researching and even tried and evening or two out.
After ten days, Sam insisted it was time to leave. Dean pulled the Impala alongside a clearing in the woods on the way out of town.
“What are we doing here?” Sam asked.
“We owe this to Adam.”
Sam looked over and saw a pyre assembled and a lone body wrapped in the middle. He turned back to Dean for an explanation.