”Best hunt ever!”
Dean lifted his leg on the table and made sure his ankle was comfortably and supported with the thick cast.
“You sure you didn’t hit your head too?”
Sam brought over the popcorn and turned on the TV.
“C’mon when was the last time, we’ve had a milk-run like this? Two vamps, one for me and one for you. Heads off and home. Perfect.”
Dean was happy and relaxed, nothing big, no end of the world stuff, just a plane hunt going as planned.
Sam shook his head and threw the bag of licorice at his brother. “Yeah, except for your broken ankle.”
“It looked cool though, didn’t it?”
There had to be a few bumps and bruises once in a while. This was nothing. Maybe he could get a bit of pretend pity from Sam. That always was a good start to an even better night.
“Dean. You jumped from an eighteen wheeler. While it was moving!”
“You’re freakin insane. You sure you didn’t hit your head before that?” Sam sat down and Dean could feel the frustration radiating from his younger brother.
“I still got the vamp, broken ankle and everything. I’m like a superhero. Now give me the remote.”
Dean pushed himself up a bit to point it at the TV. He hissed at the pain from his ankle.
“Sam… It’s broken, it hurts. It’s normal.” It did hurt more than he would have expected though and it seemed to get worse. “It’ll get better and we get a few weeks to catch up on Game of Thrones.”
He found the show and turned it on. A few weeks cuddled up on the couch with Sam sounded like heaven to him. They never had time for holding hands and slow kisses. Mostly it was just quick hot sex and then back on the job. Nothing wrong with hot sex, but the other stuff had to be there too.
“Dean we’ve seen it three times…”
The beer Sam handed him was cold and his first thought was to pour it down the cast to counteract the burning feeling.
“I can’t keep up with the who killed who and who is related and how. There’s always weeks between we get to see a few episodes. It’s confusing.”
Sam leaned back with a sigh and Dean tried to use it to hide the sharp pained breath as he had to move his leg. The burning was getting wore fast and he couldn’t keep it still for too long.
“Dee? You sure that pain is normal for a broken ankle?”
“I’m su…” A stronger wave of pain hit him. He pulled his leg to his chest with a low growl. It felt like the cast was getting too small.
Dean couldn’t speak. His leg pounded and it resonated in his head, making him see blue and green clouds. Holding the cast with both hands he rolled of the couch. Sam’s hands were on his shoulders and the voice right in front of him.
“Dean! C’mon talk to me”
Cold and wet, Sam pulled Dean from the Impala. He all but lifted him to the motel room and dropped him on the bed. His older brother was moaning every time his foot touched the ground, but otherwise he was out.
“Dean? Are you with me?”
There was no answer. Sam found the first aid kit and cut the pant-leg up. The bleeding wasn’t bad. Only from a small gash that could be bandaged and then stitched later. The ankle was definitely broken though. He concentrated on the wound on Dean’s forehead. With no sound, Dean shifted under his touch.
Sam sighed deeply and turned Dean’s head back to face him. The light in his brother’s eyes didn’t go over well either. Dean whined and fought Sam’s hold on his head.
He was on the brink of consciousness and Sam was less worried after confirming that his pupils were reacting almost similar to light and were fairly the same size.
He started cleaning the cut on the forehead, trying to keep Dean still in the process, which proved to be harder than expected. Dean was groaning and mumbling things that no one could understand, all while trying to move away.
“Dee, calm down, will ya?”
Sam leaned in and placed a careful but heavy kiss on Dean’s lips. Dean hummed relaxed and stilled his movements.
After placing the bandage on his forehead Sam did the same with the wound on his ankle. Stitching it would have to wait till Dean woke up. Not even Sam could hold his leg still enough for that. They might have to go to the emergency room for the ankle anyway.
Sam covered Dean and with a blanket and got out of his own wet clothes.
The hunt had been a mess. Dean had taken after one of the vampires and he had chased the other. A chase he was already loosing when he was interrupted by a howl only Dean could make. The truck turned away just as Sam came around the opposite corner. Dean was on the ground, slowly trying to get up before he passed out. Now, he was sitting watch at his Dean’s bedside, watching him slowly gain consciousness.
Sam knew the second Dean had called it a milk-run that it wouldn’t be, but it had been… or it should have. An easy job, no surprises, just plane dumb luck and stupidity. And now he had to call another hunter to clean up their mess and later convince Dean to go to a doctor.
This was officially the worst hunt ever.
Dean's head is not getting better and neither is his ankle. Sam is forced to make a decision about Dean's recovery wthout asking Dean.
DarkHarmony has asked for me to continue this and I am only happy to do so. So here is chapter two, and the third will follow soon. I hope you enjoy.
It had already been too long when Dean’s small noises of discomfort became more prominent. Sam had been contemplating hauling Dean to the hospital for about 25 minutes before Dean shifted position and gasped from the movement of his leg.
Sam leaned in and grabbed Dean’s hand and shoulder. “Dean?!”
The only reaction was more movement and more moaning and maybe something resembling a whimper, but Dean would deny that later.
“Dee. You awake? Open your eyes.”
Dean turned his head towards Sam, but his eyes were tightly shut. Careful not to touch the bandage, Sam brushed his hand through Dean’s hair and ended the movement by holding Dean’s head on the side behind his ear. “Hey, look at me!”
Weakly, fighting Sam’s hold and still growling in pain, Dean opened his eyes little by little.
“That’s it.” Sam made sure his eyes were the first thing Dean saw. “There you are. Take a deep breath.”
Dean looked confused but followed the order and filled his lungs. While exhaling and looking deep in Sam’s eyes, it seemed as he came down a bit.
“Hi Sam.” Dean smiled but had to fill his lungs fast to deal with the pain.
Sam felt all the tension let go of his body and sighed in relief. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Making sure to be quick about it, so Dean could breathe, Sam leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Dean’s lips.
Dean was smiling when Sam leaned straightened his back again. Somehow, he seemed more out of it than two seconds ago. “You look better than John and Jamie all rolled up in one.”
It took a second for Sam to realize that Dean had been dreaming about Game of Thrones again. He shook his head and praised his luck that Dean wasn’t so out of it that he thought he was actually in the series.
Dean arched his head back and gasped. “Dean?!” Sam grabbed his head with both hands, trying to steady him. Dean held his breath too long for Sam’s comfort but when he exhaled, his body fell limb instantaneously.
“I’m the most… luckiest guy in the world.”
His head fell heavy to the side in Sam’s hands and his eyes closed slowly.
Sam froze and looked for signs of anything on Dean’s face
He quickly scanned Dean’s body for movement, but there was nothing but the raising chest slowing down to almost normal.
“That’s it.” Sam stood up and perfectly aware that Dean wouldn’t hear him he kept talking. “I’m taking you to a hospital right now.”
His pulse making his cranium shake with every beat, was the first thing he noticed. The headache came second. A knife was carving from one ear, over the top of his head, to the other. Every beat of his too fast pulse made the cut a little deeper. He couldn’t open his eyes and wasn’t sure he wanted to anyway. There was bound to be lighter on the other side of his eyelids and he was sure he wasn’t ready for that. But somehow, he needed to get out of this. He would throw up anytime now, he was sure he was on his back and he wasn’t going to die by drowning in his own puke.
If he made a sound, Sam would here him. He was there. Right?! Dean tried to remember but couldn’t figure out how he got hurt. Sam wasn’t hurt too, was he? The next pound in his head was louder and for a second he was sure he was falling from the couch. But it wasn’t real; it had had already happened. Then he remembered the jump, the cast and Sam’s hands on his shoulders while he was lying on the floor in pain and darkness, Sam wasn’t hurt.
Making a sound to alert Sam was too hard a task and like opening his eyes he was sure it would only make his head worse, if it was even possible. He concentrated on his body. His ankle was beginning to throb and was building a smoldering heat. It took more will and pore time to locate his arms but when he was sure he was on his back and his arms were lying by his sides he focused only on his one hand. He wasn’t sure he was moving his fingers. Through the pain in his head he wasn’t even sure his arm would be able to catch the signal he was trying to send it.
Something arm wrapped around his hand. Two big hands and two thumbs which were rubbing the back of his palm.
It was only slightly louder than a whisper, but the sound divided Dean in relief of hearing Sam’s voice and regret of provoking any sound in the room.
Dean tried his best to turn his head towards the sound, but the knife on his skull turned white glowing and his stomach pulled his knees up. Before he knew it, everything was moving, and he was emptying what felt like everything he’d ever eaten.
More noises filled the room and even with his ankle tearing off his leg and his head exploding, he felt more hands holding him.
“Hang in there, Dean. We’ve got you.” Sam’s voice was soft, but it was the only words he could understand of the many being shouted around him.
While Dean’s body bit by bit stopped convulsing, he heard a woman’s voice continuing as the others stilled. He didn’t get one word. Dean could feel his body shaking but it didn’t matter; he only thought of getting the pain to stop, and the only one who he trusted to make that happen was Sam.
Dean tried to turn his head but again he wasn’t sure he was moving, and he didn’t want to try harder. Sam’s calm hand was on his cheek and jaw.
“Lie still, Dee.” Sam’s whisper was the best this that could have happened at that time. It was Sam, but no piercing white-glowing sound. Dean tried to lift his hand and must have move it just enough for Sam to notice and grab it with his free.
“Okay. It’s okay, Dee.” Sam squeezed his hand and Dean did his best to concentrate on that warm secure hold and not on the pain or the other countless hands on him.
The woman talked; quieter than before but still too loud.
“Did you get that?” Sam’s face was right in front of his, he knew that. “Dean, squeeze my hand f we can roll you to your back now.”
Only now, did Dean realize that he was on his side. He must have puked all over the floor. He swallowed to not gag and felt the sound resonate in is expanding skull.
Sam only used nicknames like that when joking. This wasn’t a joke, but it surely got Dean’s attention and he squeezed Sam’s hand as hard as he could.
“Okay, Dean. Let us do it. We’ll go slow.”
Dean’s whole world moved again, and he was sure that if he’d had his eyes open, he would have gone blind. Sam’s hand was still cradling his chin and the other firmly holding his hand. Dean held on for dear life and Sam squeezed harder.
“It’s good. I’m here.”
Dean knew that even if he was forced to let go of Dean, Sam would never leave him alone, but to hear him say it, was all he could have wished for this moment, blind and in pain. Dean wasn’t sure how many, but quite a few hands left his body. He felt more at ease but somehow, he was suddenly nervous about moving, even though he was sure he was flat on his back.
Sam’s hand moved from Dean’s chin to the top of his head. By some wonderful magic, the warmth from it lessened the seething pulse tearing Dean’s head apart.
“He’s in pain. You need to give him something.” Sam’s voice was louder but further away and not directed towards Dean. It was like he was standing over him.
“He might be more out of it from it.” The woman put a light hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Dean. Are you with us?”
Dean turned his head towards where Sam’s voice had been. Sam would have to take charge on this one.
“He’s awake. I know him.”
“I’m not arguing, Mr. Winchester. I’m just making sure you know that if we give your husband more for the pain it could make him more nauseous and maybe confused. He’s got a severe concussion and we haven’t gotten the scans back yet.”
Dean thought he might have gotten all that, but most important was that Sam had used the fake marriage license and not the brother-card to get in as family, which meant that they wouldn’t have to be careful about when to say what in front of who. The rest might have been important too, but it was already forgotten in throbs from his leg and his headache fighting the calm rubs from Sam’s thumbs.
“Is it dangerous to drug him?”
“No, it isn’t.” Dean was sure he could suddenly hear the woman smile as she spoke.
“Then give him everything.”
Dean would hug Sam tight and kiss him all over his face if he could, but right now he wasn’t even able to smile through the tensing of every muscle. He was ready for this to be over and had been since he woke up.
The little hand was back on his shoulder. “Okay, Dean. You’ve already got an IV I can push it through, so it won’t be long.”
Dean felt something touch his hand and soon after the pain in his skull withdrew and gave room for the feeling of Sam’s fingers playing with his hair. Bit by bit, his ankle stopped burning and realizing that he had been breathing way too fast, he slowly got his lungs back in order.
Dean turned his head towards Sam.
“Dean. It has been a few minutes; do you need more?”
He didn’t need anything. He could feel his ankle was hurt, but it didn’t bother him more than making sure that he didn’t move it and making a bigger mess of himself. Everything was spinning, but he wasn’t nauseous. He could relax and Sam was still holding on to his hand. Everything was perfect.
Ask me to continue one of my rare "cute" medical stories and then watch the angst take over....
“I know you’re awake. Can you look at me?”
Very carefully not to do it too fast to regret it, Dean opened his eyes. Sam was standing next to the bed, slightly leaned in to reach Dean’s head and hand.
Sam sat down on the side of the bed and brushed his hand slowly over Dean’s cheekbone and chin. “What do you remember?”
Dean closed his eyes for a second, thinking back. He remembered Sam and him settling down in front of the TV, his leg elevated on the table, but it didn’t seem real. Something was off. He tried remembering why his leg was hurt and why it was still burning. He looked down and saw his ankle elevated and wrapped in a thick bandage that made his foot look three times as big.
“Didn’t I have a cast on it?”
Sam smiled and shook his head. “No, we haven’t gotten that far yet. Your head scan came back good. Don’t you remember anything?”
Dean felt his forehead frown under a small bandage as he thought it over again. “I jumped off the truck.” He looked at Sam. “Did we get the vampires?”
Sam quickly turned and Dean’s eyes followed his line of sight to a more than concerned nurse looking at him. Sam laughed it of and waved her over. “We were watching a movie before we went out and he decided to jump the curve like the character in it.”
The nurse came over and took his pulse. “You will get some time to get it all figured out. You are next in line for surgery…” She looked at his leg. “…but it could take half an hour more. Your vitals are good, but your pulse is a bit high, do you need more for the pain?”
Dean shook his head. The pain wasn’t that bad, he could manage, but looking at Sam, Dean was sure that he’d already seen it. He was already holding on tighter to Dean’s hand. His brother and lover knew he would have to take over and continue the talking.
“He’s good. We’ll let you know if it changes.” Sam smiled at the nurse and retaliating the smile she nodded. She noted a few things on a chart by the door before she left.
Sam waited for the door to close completely before turning back to Dean, and placing his other hand on their tight grip. Sam knew Dean had no problems with hospitals, except for the whole helpless feeling and pity that came with it. Only one thing had Dean take pause; surgery. More specifically the sleeping because of drugs part. Dean’s hand were crushing Sam’s fingers.
“Dee. It’s an easy fix.”
Dean’s breathing was pushing through his nose as his jaw was locked in what seemed like anger. Sam knew it was only a coping mechanism.
“Listen, you know it’s nothing.”
“Did they say how? Do I need to sleep?”
Sam sighed and nodded. Dean turned his head away. They had done this dance two times before. Dean knew there was no way around it and was now using all of his energy to look pissed and not scared.
“Dean, c’mon.” Sam took a firm hold of Dean’s chin and turned his head back. Dean must have been worn out good since he didn’t put up a fight. “Hey, you’ve done this before. They said that if everything is as easy as they think it will be, we can go home soon. You’ve already been here all night we might not need to spend the next one here.”
Dean smiled and looked up at Sam, who was leaning in to his line of sight. “Did you sit here all night?”
Sam straightened his back and felt the sore muscles complain from being overworked. “I did, do you think I would just drop you off? You were pretty out of it.”
“Yeah, I think I’m starting to piece some of it together, but somethings just doesn’t fit.”
The confused look on Dean’s face had Sam let out a short laugh. “You were out for a long time, more than once. I’m sure you’ve had a more adventurous night than me.”
He picked up Dean’s hand and kissed it slowly.
“Dean. I know you hate the anesthesia, but you know that it’s all good when you wake up again. It’s just those two minutes before.”
Dean nodded, but locked his jaw tight again. Sam knew that Dean wouldn’t put up a fight, yet, but he hated seeing him like this. It would be better if he could admit that he was scared before the needle went in. The first time, a nurse had come running out of the operating room to get security and they had ended up getting Sam in there to calm Dean down. The last time had been an emergency and the two strong men had refused to let each other’s hands go, so they had ended up letting Sam in. Hopefully, he could make it happen under calmer circumstances this time.
“I’m going to talk to them. I’ll go in with you.”
Dean let go of Sam’s hand and turned his head away. “There’s no need. I’ll be just fine on my own.”
“Yes there is. You don’t have to try and fool me anymore, it’s too late for that.”
Dean lied rigid in the bed, not moving or talking, and when Sam reached the door he looked small. Too small to be left alone in the room but Sam opened the door to go find the nurse.
It hadn’t been easy by far, and Sam was sure that in the end it came down to not delaying the whole hospital, but now he was dressed in green paper waiting for Dean to be wheeled into the room.
Sam had made sure to send message to Dean that he was waiting in there fore him, so when two men entered with the bed, Dean was already scouting the room. As calm as possible, Sam quickly made his way to Dean’s side and took his hand.
“Hi there. You ready?”
Dean didn’t speak and he wasn’t ready, but Sam noticed the instant relief on his face when their eyes met.
Things happened fast and before either of them realized what was happening, someone had counted to three and Dean was lifted on to the narrow, hardly padded table and the bed was wheeled out. Two young technicians or nurses, was attaching lots of stuff to his chest and fingers and good ankle. A middle aged man with small thin-framed glasses sat on a chair and rolled up next to Dean’s head. He asked Dean about his social security number. If Sam had gotten half a minute more he would have gotten it, but the man didn’t seem that worried. He asked for his name instead and when Sam smiled and nodded at Dean, he answered with his real name, as Sam had given them earlier.
“Good.” The man took Dean’s hand and asked him to keep it on the narrow armrest sticking out to the side. “I’m not going to stick you since the IV looks good.”
Dean smiled at the man but his other hand clasped harder onto Sam’s. Sam accepted a chair and placed his other hand on top of the paper hat Dean was wearing, and rubbed his temple lightly with his thumb.
“Breathe, Dean. Two minutes.”
More people entered the room and Dean seemed completely indifferent to the surgeon and the explanation of what was going to happen to his ankle. Sam tried to get all the facts but his eyes were on Dean and his breathing going faster for every second. It didn’t matter anyway; they both trusted the doctors to fix him completely as they had already said. It was only Dean’s unexplainable fear of going under that was an issue.
The man next to Dean took his hand and a nurse stood next to Sam at the top of the table. Dean saw the mask before Sam and all but tore Sam of the chair he’d just sat on.
“Dee. It’s alright.”
The nurse smiled at Sam and then down at Dean. “This isn’t the anesthesia; it’s only oxygen.” She moved the mask over Dean’s nose and mouth, but before it toughed him, Dean pulled his arm from the man and sat up almost all the way.
Sam was up in front of him quick and had both hands on his shoulders. “Dee. Don’t.”
Dean looked more embarrassed than anything else when he complied and let Sam push him down slowly. Everyone in the room had taken a small step back, except for the nurse, who might have been pushed a couple of steps.
Sam took his time looking Dean in the eyes making sure he wasn’t going to move, before his moved his hands to Dean’s chin and hand.
“Don’t make this last longer than it has to. Okay?”
Dean took a deep breath and eventually he nodded at Sam. Sam hadn’t expected him to speak so he was happy with what he got.
He looked at the nurse and gestured for the mask. “Can I?”
The young woman looked at the older man with the glasses and he nodded for her to go on. Sam got the mask and by some miracle Dean followed as Sam gave her Dean’s hand.
With one hand on the side of Dean’s face, Sam stood at the end of the table and held the mask so Dean could see it.
Dean took his eyes from the mask and looked up at Sam. Sam smiled as casually as he could.
“Give the man your arm.”
It took a few seconds before the demand seemed to register with Dean and it took a few more before he’d looked over at the man and back at Sam. Sam nodded at him and slowly Dean placed his hand on the small surface.
The nurse squeezed Dean’s other hand in both of hers, demanding his attention. “Dean? Are you ready to do this now?”
Dean didn’t take his eyes of Sam but after a deep breath filled Dean’s lungs, Sam felt a small nod in the hand supporting Dean’s face. Not sure anyone had seen it, he smiled at the man with the drugs and Sam got the go-ahead to place the mask on Dean.
Dean tensed and almost pulled both hands from the people holding them, but they had seen it coming and held on.
“Dee. Relax.” Sam leaned in and made sure Dean looked straight at him. His stomach curled seeing the fear in the eyes of the strong and otherwise fearless man. “Sweetie, you need to let them work. One minute.”
Dean nodded and held still, but didn’t relax and he didn’t take in any of the air. “Take a deep breath.” Dean tired to shake his head, but with Sam holding the mask and his chin, he could muster up more than a small tremor.
Eventually, Dean had to give in and he breathed in the air.
“That’s good. Do your best to relax a bit.”
The man holding Dean’s hand looked at the screens measuring everything and seemed satisfied with how Dean was coming down.
“I’ll give you the drugs now. It will be less than 15 seconds before you sleep.”
The man and Sam nodded at each other, before Sam turned all his attention to the pale face in his hands. “It’s good, Sweetie. 15 seconds, did you hear?”
Dean nodded, but Sam only noticed his lower lip quivering inside the mask. Sam forced a smile as he lifted Dean’s head and moved the elastic from the mask around it.
“Shh, almost there.”
Sam carefully held Dean’s head on either side. He caressed Dean’s cheekbone with one thumb and let the one on the other side catch a single tear escaping Dean’s eye.
Dean’s eyes got heavy fast, but he fought them open. His breathing spiked and turned into small gasps. Sam leaned in and spoke quietly next to Dean’s ear. “Breathe. Relax. It’s almost over.”
Dean’s eyes closed and his breathing calmed down almost as fast as his head became heavy to hold straight.
So this is the last chapter of a story I first did as a one-chapter piece, but then was convinced to continue. I thought that I'd add a second chapter and that was it, but then it got all angsty and now the last chapter is number four.
I hope you enjoy.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
A milk-run never happened. So, an uncomplicated case like this had to end with injuries. Dean considered a concussion and a broken ankle getting off easy. Even lying there one the pavement getting more and more dizzy, he felt like he was the one with superpowers when he jumped off the truck after that vampire.
He could hear Sam far away but his eyes was giving up in the dark night and he didn’t see anything moving.
He wished that hid head wouldn’t spin, that his hands and legs were his to control, but it was getting harder to feel that they were even still there. He tried turning his head towards Sam’s voice but he couldn’t control that either. His heart started racing and he heard his blood rush passed his inner ears. What if he couldn’t hear Sam anymore? Was he coming? Dean couldn’t answer and he wasn’t sure Sam even knew where he was, and now he was loosing all control of his body.
“Dee are you awake?”
Sam was close. Real close. Dean tried to speak but he wasn’t sure that the low hum he made was audible for anyone but him.
A big warm hand took Dean’s limp hand and suddenly he was sure he had hands again. “Hey, everything I alright. Open your eyes.”
Nothing was alright. Dean had let the vampire escape and now his head was messing him up so he didn’t even feel his broken ankle and worse; he had no idea what was happening around him and he couldn’t react to it.
He tried opening his eyes and was met with too much light for them to stay open. He shut them quick and turned his head away. It wasn’t right. It was night and he was sure there hadn’t been any streetlights next to him. Maybe Sam had drove Baby here. How long has he been out, and how hurt was he since Sam felt the need to get the Impala before he got contact with him? He didn’t feel hurt. His head didn’t even hurt. He was even feeling his hands and legs and could move his head again.
By a light touch on his chin his head was turned back towards the voice. “Dee. Try again, we turned down the light.”
Dean tried to ignore that Sam was talking about himself as “we” and that he thought that he could turn down light in a parking lot. He needed to see Sam now. Nothing was making sense and what if his brain made him loose control over everything again? Sam needed to know what was going on. He tried again carefully, and found that the dim light in the room was making it painless. Sam was only a shadow but it was definitely a room. A hospital room. Dean grabbed on tighter to Sam’s hand and tried to sit up, but Sam’s other hand pushed him down by his shoulder and held him there.
“Dean, Sweetie. Your heart is racing. Calm down.”
Dean only focused on Sam’s face, getting slowly clearer. “What…? Where?” His voice was only a raw whisper but clear enough.
“You had surgery on your leg, remember?”
His leg? His broken leg, from jumping of the truck. Dean remembered, and he remembered the panic he’d been in just before sleeping. He nodded slowly and relaxed back into the pillow.
“Good. Now take a few deep breaths, you’re not quite breathing right.”
Only after the first deep breath, did he realize that Sam was telling the truth; his lungs had not been going well while waking up. But after the second time filling his lungs he didn’t have to think about it anymore.
Sam’s hand moved from Dean’s shoulder, brushed over his forehead and ended up buried in his hair. “You good?”
“Yeah.” Dean smiled and when he blinked the image of Sam stood completely clear. “Hi there Jaime.”
Sam shook his head. Dean knew Sam secretly loved it when he named him after gorgeous tv-show characters.
“Well hi.” Sam leaned in slowly and let his lips connect with Dean’s and Dean relaxed completely; Dean could always feel if Sam was worried or sad on his kisses and now there was only love and a bit of exhaustion. “So Cersei, you need to let the nurse check your vitals.”
“I guess I should have seen that coming.”
Sam stood up but didn’t take his hand from Dean’s and let the other remain in his hair too. “You probably should.” Sam chuckled and gestured for the nurse to come over.
Dean hadn’t seen her in the other side of the room, but he guessed Sam had demanded to wake him up on his own. It wouldn’t be out of character for his protective lover and brother.
She checked that the IV was good, looked in his eyes and checked his bandage and boot on his ankle. Everything else she could read on the screens. She seemed satisfied when she left. Dean didn’t care about the IV in his hand or the fact that he was still in a damn hospital. He just cared that his leg didn’t hurt and that he was over the whole getting-put-under thing. It didn’t even bother him that he was ordered to use a wheelchair and not crutches since his ankle couldn’t be in a real cast before the stitches came out.
Sam half lifted, half supported Dean as he moved from the wheelchair to the couch. He landed with a heavy sigh but the sound was more from the workout than from pain so Sam didn’t ask. Dean had already complained about him being too worried; once as they got in the car and once as they got out.
“Did you get the licorice?”
“Yeah sure. You told me like eight times.” Sam threw the bag at Dean and found the pack of microwave popcorn in the shopping bag too.
“I’m sure it was only seven.”
Dean used both hands to lift his leg by the knee. Sam rushed over and took hold under his calf and placed a pillow on the table before resting his Dean’s ankle there.
“You sure, you’re not in pain?”
Dean smiled and took Sam’s hand, pulling him close. Sam sat down next to Dean and leaned into the kiss and let Dean wrap him in his arms.
Dean broke off and still holding Sam close he looked him in the eyes. “I’m sure. I’ll tell you, okay?”
Sam could feel Dean’s pulse and breathing. “Dee. If you’re not hurting why are you so worked up?” Just as soon as he’d said it he knew where Dean was taking this.
“Well, you are awfully close right now…”
Sam couldn’t help but smile from the glimpse in Dean’s eyes and the hurried lick over his upper lip, but he could both see and hear that it was to hide something.
“Dee… C’mon, it’s me.”
Dean looked down and let go of Sam, and Sam quickly took both of Dean’s hands in his before he could pull them away.
“I’m just tired Sam.” Dean’s thumb rubbed lightly on the back of Sam’s palm.
“You wanted to watch the show. We don’t have too.”
“It’s 6 pm.”
Sam lifted Dean’s face by a light grip on his chin. “Dean. You were more or less passed out from 1 am to we got to the hospital and then there was the surgery. I’m sure the dreams or hallucinations or what you were going through and the panic, took way more energy that you got. You’re not Superman. It’s not too early, to sleep.”
Dean shook his head and tried to turn it away, but Sam didn’t let him. He admired Dean for his courage and loved him for his strength but sometimes Sam wished that he would just through it all overboard and be completely honest, at least with himself.
“Dee, what is it?”
Dean swallowed and without moving his head he looked down. “I don’t want to go to bed just now. I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep if sleeping is the only purpose.”
Sam’s head frowned, and it took him a second to catch up.
“Hey, Dee.” Sam placed his other hand lightly on Dean’s cheek. “It’s alright. We don’t need to revisit the memory of those drugs. Let’s watch the show and worry about that later.”
Dean’s eyes made contact with his and without words Dean kissed his Sam slow and strong. He leaned into Sam’s arms and rested his head on his collarbone. Sam forgot about the popcorn and turned on the eighth episode of Game of Thrones, for the fourth damn time.
Sam rubbed Dean’s back slowly and it didn’t take long for Dean to find Sam’s other hand in his lap and lace their fingers. Within ten minutes Dean’s breaths got deeper and slower and soon his head got heavy enough that Sam had to support it instead of rubbing his back.
Halfway through the episode, Sam turned off the TV and laid Dean down on the couch and moved his leg to rest on a pillow on the armrest. Dean moaned as he did, but this time Sam wasn’t worried; he knew how a scared or hurting Dean sounded and this wasn’t it.
When Sam had gotten a mattress from a bed in an empty room and placed it next to the couch, he turned off the light and laid under the blanket. He could hear Dean breathing calm and naturally for the first time since they left for that hunt. He turned to face the couch so he easily could take his lover’s relaxed hand. Sam situated himself so his hand wouldn't fall from Dean's. He wasn’t worried Dean would wake up scared, but this way he would wake up first, just in case.
Please let me know if you made it to the end. I'm always a bit apprehensive about continuing things I'd thought of as finished. I'm never sure if it seems forced or if I manage to make it a coherent story.