SPN: Just In Case {Sam+Dean}
Title: Just In Case
Author: aerithqoc
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mild language and possible medical inaccuracies.
Word Count: 1300+
Disclaimer: None of the characters, places or things mentioned in this fic belongs to me.
Summary: An angry spirit decides to use Dean as a basketball, resulting in some bruised ribs, a rather worried Sam and endless levels of fluff.
A/N: This is for my beloved lotroth for Christmas. She asked for some hurt!Dean with some comforting!Sammy (something I’ve never actually dabbled in before...) so I hope this is something close to what she wanted.
Merry Christmas hun! And I hope everyone enjoys all the pointless fluffy brotherly-ness! :D
~ * ~ * ~
When Dean opened his eyes again, moments after slamming against the wall, everything hurt.
His left side ached like it was broken and his right side stung like it was burning. All in all, not good.
Dean turned his head to the side. He had to blink several times in order to make out the blurry shape that was Sam, who was staring down at him in what could only be described as concern.
Dean absolutely despised that look.
“That bitch is getting on my last nerves...” Dean murmured with a pained roll of his eyes around the room. Apart from the two of them, the room was otherwise empty. “Oh. You got her then?”
“Yeah, she was buried just outside. Salted and burned her. By the looks of you, maybe I should’ve been a bit quicker.”
“Yeah well, would’ve been nice but beggars can’t be choosers, Sammy.” Dean tried sitting up but the weight of his injuries forced him back down to the filthy floor with a bitter cough. “Actually, yeah. Quicker next time.”
When Sam gave a miserable frown, Dean just batted his brother’s arm lightly. He felt guilty enough as it was for worrying his little brother, he didn’t need Sam’s hurt expressions adding to it.
“Come on - what’s with that look, eh? You look like someone kicked your puppy.”
A small grin immediately sparkled to life across Sam’s face. “Well- ”
“Hey hey hey - shut it!” Dean said with a wince. “Don’t be a smartass, Sam. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Right back at you, Dean.” Sam said before peeling back Dean’s leather jacket, ever so slightly, and checking him over. It made Dean feel rather uncomfortable. “So, how you feeling? You look like you just got through a war...”
“I’ll live. What about you, Sammy? Nothing broken, I hope.”
Sam scowled down at him like Dean was a child. “I’m perfectly fine. But how bad did she get you?”
“Well, she bounced me around like a freaking basketball. But I just need a little Tylenol and a lot of whiskey and I’ll be back on my feet in no time, you’ll see.”
“Uh-huh.” Dean hissed and wrapped both arms around his body when Sam’s finger prodded into his ribs. “Ow! What the hell was that for?!”
“Checking to see if you’re full of crap. Turns out, yes you are. But I really don’t like how tender your ribs are, they might be broken.”
“I’m fine, Sammy. Honestly. No stupid spirit’s gonna keep me down for long.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it. Come on, let’s go.” Sam said, gently wrapping an arm around Dean’s shoulder and helping him up and out of there.
As if the strong pull on his sides wasn’t bad enough, it did absolutely nothing to help Dean’s pride that it was such a struggle to limp out of the old house and into the passenger side of the Impala, even with his gigantic brother helping him out.
He felt more than a little queasy as his brother rushed them back to the motel room.
Dean could easily recall a number of situations like this when he was the one helping to carry Sam away from a hunt gone wrong, but he struggled to think of how many times when Dean was the one being carried out. Though that may have been down to his pride again.
By the time they got back to the motel room though, the pain he felt was so intense that he was ready to kick his pride to the curb, curl into a ball on his bed and die.
“If I ever meet that bitch again in the afterlife, I’m gonna kill her again for good measure.” Dean whispered hoarsely but Sam said nothing about it as he led his big brother to sit down on the edge of his bed.
“How’re your ribs now?”
“I can feel some swelling so... bruised, I think. Yeah, they’re just bruised.”
“Figured as much. You’ve been hugging yourself all the way here.”
“Yeah well, next time how about you get beaten around by the angry spirit and we’ll see how you deal with it.” Dean stared at Sam’s back as his brother moved around the room, checking salt lines and grabbing things from their duffle bags. Dean shook his head. “On second thoughts - don’t.”
“Nice to know you care.”
“Care? Yeah right... I just don’t think I could handle anymore of your bitching.”
“Very nice, Dean.” Sam said as he moved to kneel in front of him with a glass of water and a couple of white pills in his hands. “Here, take these.”
Dean chugged them down rather enthusiastically.
“Hang on a sec, I’ll be right back.” Dean nodded and closed his eyes for a long moment, only opening them when he heard Sam return with a full bucket from the ice machine outside.
“Try this.” Sam said, emptying the ice in a towel and kneeling in front of him again. “Need anything else?”
Dean grunted a quiet “no” but he couldn’t keep in the pleased groan when he pressed the makeshift icepack against the swelling. It was good.
Sam just knelt there in front of him, staring like he was trying to figure something out, trying to decipher an indecipherable dilemma. Dean knew that look; it was the look he himself always had on his face after Sam got hurt.
And it was freaking Dean out to be on the other side of that look.
Actually, every time they fell into this kind of situation, Dean relying on Sam to take care of him instead of the other way around, it really freaked Dean out.
“I’m fine, Sam.”
“Whatever you say but if you start feeling any worse, we’re going to a doctor. And don’t try to pull anymore of that macho male stuff - you wouldn’t take that “I’m fine” crap from me, and I’m not taking it from you. Got it?”
Dean just groaned and lay back on the bed. Yep, he was never not going to be completely freaked out by Sam acting like the big brother.
“Glad that’s settled. There’s nothing else I can really do for you right now... Unless you want me to kiss it better?” Sam said with a wink and a teasing grin.
“Bite me.”
“Well, I really don’t think that’d help.”
Dean swung his arm lazily and scuffed Sam across the back of his head for that. “What did I say earlier about you being a smartass?”
Sam just chuckled and got to his feet, disappearing into the bathroom. In no time at all, Dean could feel the ache in his body dulling a bit as the painkillers finally kicked in.
Rolling onto his side and closing his eyes, Dean listened to the sounds of the pipes groaning through the too thin walls as Sam set about washing away all the dirt and grime from his earlier digging session.
But Sam never strayed too far away. The bathroom door was open, just a crack, and it was the sink he used, not the shower, for a quick and efficient clean up - but Sam was right there in earshot, just in case.
He was probably wrecked and hungry and exhausted too, but Dean knew that the second he came back out, Sam would turn back into a mother hen and make sure all was well with his big brother. Maybe Dean could even get Sam to go out get some pie for him. He could really use some pie right now.
So, maybe the role reversal freaked him out more than a little bit but Dean couldn’t deny how handy his pain in the ass little brother could be during times like this.
“Thanks, Sammy.”
Dean only mouthed the words as he readjusted the ice pack on his torso. He didn’t have to say it out loud.
There was no doubt in Dean's mind that Sam knew it anyway.
Author: aerithqoc
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mild language and possible medical inaccuracies.
Word Count: 1300+
Disclaimer: None of the characters, places or things mentioned in this fic belongs to me.
Summary: An angry spirit decides to use Dean as a basketball, resulting in some bruised ribs, a rather worried Sam and endless levels of fluff.
A/N: This is for my beloved lotroth for Christmas. She asked for some hurt!Dean with some comforting!Sammy (something I’ve never actually dabbled in before...) so I hope this is something close to what she wanted.
Merry Christmas hun! And I hope everyone enjoys all the pointless fluffy brotherly-ness! :D
~ * ~ * ~
When Dean opened his eyes again, moments after slamming against the wall, everything hurt.
His left side ached like it was broken and his right side stung like it was burning. All in all, not good.
Dean turned his head to the side. He had to blink several times in order to make out the blurry shape that was Sam, who was staring down at him in what could only be described as concern.
Dean absolutely despised that look.
“That bitch is getting on my last nerves...” Dean murmured with a pained roll of his eyes around the room. Apart from the two of them, the room was otherwise empty. “Oh. You got her then?”
“Yeah, she was buried just outside. Salted and burned her. By the looks of you, maybe I should’ve been a bit quicker.”
“Yeah well, would’ve been nice but beggars can’t be choosers, Sammy.” Dean tried sitting up but the weight of his injuries forced him back down to the filthy floor with a bitter cough. “Actually, yeah. Quicker next time.”
When Sam gave a miserable frown, Dean just batted his brother’s arm lightly. He felt guilty enough as it was for worrying his little brother, he didn’t need Sam’s hurt expressions adding to it.
“Come on - what’s with that look, eh? You look like someone kicked your puppy.”
A small grin immediately sparkled to life across Sam’s face. “Well- ”
“Hey hey hey - shut it!” Dean said with a wince. “Don’t be a smartass, Sam. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Right back at you, Dean.” Sam said before peeling back Dean’s leather jacket, ever so slightly, and checking him over. It made Dean feel rather uncomfortable. “So, how you feeling? You look like you just got through a war...”
“I’ll live. What about you, Sammy? Nothing broken, I hope.”
Sam scowled down at him like Dean was a child. “I’m perfectly fine. But how bad did she get you?”
“Well, she bounced me around like a freaking basketball. But I just need a little Tylenol and a lot of whiskey and I’ll be back on my feet in no time, you’ll see.”
“Uh-huh.” Dean hissed and wrapped both arms around his body when Sam’s finger prodded into his ribs. “Ow! What the hell was that for?!”
“Checking to see if you’re full of crap. Turns out, yes you are. But I really don’t like how tender your ribs are, they might be broken.”
“I’m fine, Sammy. Honestly. No stupid spirit’s gonna keep me down for long.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it. Come on, let’s go.” Sam said, gently wrapping an arm around Dean’s shoulder and helping him up and out of there.
As if the strong pull on his sides wasn’t bad enough, it did absolutely nothing to help Dean’s pride that it was such a struggle to limp out of the old house and into the passenger side of the Impala, even with his gigantic brother helping him out.
He felt more than a little queasy as his brother rushed them back to the motel room.
Dean could easily recall a number of situations like this when he was the one helping to carry Sam away from a hunt gone wrong, but he struggled to think of how many times when Dean was the one being carried out. Though that may have been down to his pride again.
By the time they got back to the motel room though, the pain he felt was so intense that he was ready to kick his pride to the curb, curl into a ball on his bed and die.
“If I ever meet that bitch again in the afterlife, I’m gonna kill her again for good measure.” Dean whispered hoarsely but Sam said nothing about it as he led his big brother to sit down on the edge of his bed.
“How’re your ribs now?”
“I can feel some swelling so... bruised, I think. Yeah, they’re just bruised.”
“Figured as much. You’ve been hugging yourself all the way here.”
“Yeah well, next time how about you get beaten around by the angry spirit and we’ll see how you deal with it.” Dean stared at Sam’s back as his brother moved around the room, checking salt lines and grabbing things from their duffle bags. Dean shook his head. “On second thoughts - don’t.”
“Nice to know you care.”
“Care? Yeah right... I just don’t think I could handle anymore of your bitching.”
“Very nice, Dean.” Sam said as he moved to kneel in front of him with a glass of water and a couple of white pills in his hands. “Here, take these.”
Dean chugged them down rather enthusiastically.
“Hang on a sec, I’ll be right back.” Dean nodded and closed his eyes for a long moment, only opening them when he heard Sam return with a full bucket from the ice machine outside.
“Try this.” Sam said, emptying the ice in a towel and kneeling in front of him again. “Need anything else?”
Dean grunted a quiet “no” but he couldn’t keep in the pleased groan when he pressed the makeshift icepack against the swelling. It was good.
Sam just knelt there in front of him, staring like he was trying to figure something out, trying to decipher an indecipherable dilemma. Dean knew that look; it was the look he himself always had on his face after Sam got hurt.
And it was freaking Dean out to be on the other side of that look.
Actually, every time they fell into this kind of situation, Dean relying on Sam to take care of him instead of the other way around, it really freaked Dean out.
“I’m fine, Sam.”
“Whatever you say but if you start feeling any worse, we’re going to a doctor. And don’t try to pull anymore of that macho male stuff - you wouldn’t take that “I’m fine” crap from me, and I’m not taking it from you. Got it?”
Dean just groaned and lay back on the bed. Yep, he was never not going to be completely freaked out by Sam acting like the big brother.
“Glad that’s settled. There’s nothing else I can really do for you right now... Unless you want me to kiss it better?” Sam said with a wink and a teasing grin.
“Bite me.”
“Well, I really don’t think that’d help.”
Dean swung his arm lazily and scuffed Sam across the back of his head for that. “What did I say earlier about you being a smartass?”
Sam just chuckled and got to his feet, disappearing into the bathroom. In no time at all, Dean could feel the ache in his body dulling a bit as the painkillers finally kicked in.
Rolling onto his side and closing his eyes, Dean listened to the sounds of the pipes groaning through the too thin walls as Sam set about washing away all the dirt and grime from his earlier digging session.
But Sam never strayed too far away. The bathroom door was open, just a crack, and it was the sink he used, not the shower, for a quick and efficient clean up - but Sam was right there in earshot, just in case.
He was probably wrecked and hungry and exhausted too, but Dean knew that the second he came back out, Sam would turn back into a mother hen and make sure all was well with his big brother. Maybe Dean could even get Sam to go out get some pie for him. He could really use some pie right now.
So, maybe the role reversal freaked him out more than a little bit but Dean couldn’t deny how handy his pain in the ass little brother could be during times like this.
“Thanks, Sammy.”
Dean only mouthed the words as he readjusted the ice pack on his torso. He didn’t have to say it out loud.
There was no doubt in Dean's mind that Sam knew it anyway.