82 Bottles : If I Only Had a Brain
Title: If I Only Had a Brain
Summary: Sam looks after a feverish Dean.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Author: alienstars2004 / alienstarsfics
Beta: The lovely arglikeapirate. Thanks so much!
Series: 82 Bottles of Beer; Episode: 1.11 - Scarecrow
Rating: G
Warning(s): Wincest
Prompt Table: Here
If I Only Had a Brain
The key made a clicking sound as it turned in the beat up lock, and the door’s hinges creaked as it opened. Sam peered into the muddled darkness of the room as he stepped quietly inside, trying to keep the noise to a minimum.
The TV was on, some commercial for a ShamWow or SlapChop or whatever. The pale glow flickered, casting long shadows onto the bed and crumpled sheets around it.
Sam set the bags on the table, attempts to be quiet apparently failing when a congested sigh brought his attention to the first bed, the one directly in front of the TV.
“What’d you bring me, Sammy?” Dean’s voice was more than a little nasally, and Sam frowned, thinking Dean had sounded better that morning when he had left for the library.
“Dinner.” Sam answered, pulling out the burger and fries and carrying it over to the bed. “As if you could taste it.”
He didn’t mean to sound like a jerk, he was just tired from a full day of research that yielded frustratingly little, and hadn’t exactly been looking forward to coming back to a sick Dean. Dean sick was never pretty. He was either coherent enough to bitch constantly about how he hated being sick, or too out of it to function at all. While the latter meant not having to listen to bitching, Dean never failed to look utterly pathetic and miserable (which he probably was, but it still killed Sam to see him like that).
Dean pulled himself up, leaning against the pillow. He saw the burger and grinned tiredly before reaching for it.
“I got you some more cough stuff, too. Did you take the rest of what we had while I was out?”
“Yes, mommy.” Dean was already absorbed in unwrapping the food. He took a large bite and tilted his head to gaze at Sam. He swallowed before asking, “Sammy?”
“Yes?” Sam flipped the page of one of the books he had brought back, not looking up.
“You gonna eat?”
“In a minute.”
“Been at the library all day, haven’t you?”
“That’s where I said I was going.”
Dean frowned. “Then put the research down for the night.” He said it as if it were the most easy and obvious thing in the world.
Sam raised his head.
Dean stared back at him with sleepy, glazed eyes. “Come sit with me.” He asked, after a moment.
Sam couldn’t help but smile a little, wondering how out of it Dean was. He shut the book and grabbed his own food, taking the few steps to the bed.
“Here, I also got you this.” He set a cup on the bedside table. “Chocolate shake.” He continued, “Thought it would feel good on your throat.”
“You’re the best, Sammy.” Dean told him earnestly though another mouthful.
Sam was fairly certain Dean was loopy on the cough medicine. He laughed once, realizing his brother’s display of affection had led him to that discovery.
“What?” Dean looked genuinely concerned through slightly widened eyes. He blinked once, slowly, giving him an owlish appearance.
“Nothing, Dean.” Sam shook his head, faint smile still holding. He stretched out on the bed, propping himself against the headboard next to Dean.
“Wizard of Oz is on.”
Dean was definitely loopy. Sam casually reached over and felt Dean’s forehead. He didn’t pull away, which worried Sam a little. Dean hadn’t felt this warm when he had left, and that worried him more.
“Let me know when you’re ready for another dose.” Sam told him, nudging Dean’s shoulder with his own. He let it hold there, and Dean started to unconsciously lean into him for a moment, before he stopped. Sam looked down, cocking his eyebrow.
“Don’ wanna get you sick, Sammy.”
“I think if I were going to, I would have already gotten sick.” Sam shrugged.
Dean seemed satisfied with this and leaned into him. His eyes were half-closed as he watched the images on the screen.
“If only it were that easy.” He mumbled (Sam thought he heard a tint of genuine pout in his voice) as the Wicked Witch of the West melted into a puddle on the floor.
“It was probably holy water.” Sam interjected.
Dean laughed tiredly, coughing once. He shifted and his head dropped to Sam’s shoulder as Dorothy awoke safely back at home in black and white Kansas.
“This movie is such an acid trip.” He stated with conviction.
Sam laughed, a deep rumbling low in his chest. Dean frowned, but didn’t protest when Sam brought his arm around him, “By most people’s standards, our life could be considered an acid trip.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, his eyes seemingly a little glassier than earlier, “And how would you know what an acid trip is like?”
“You said it first, Dean.”
“Mm.” Dean waved his hand, pointing at the screen, “It doesn’t matter that you missed most of Oz.”
“Why’s that?” Sam asked, running his fingers through Dean’s hair, now reasonably sure he wouldn’t be pushed away. It wasn’t really that Sam wanted Dean to suddenly be more touchy-feely or to be more open with emotion and affection, that wouldn’t be true to Dean. He just wished his brother could let his inhibitions and doubts go more often.
“Alice in Wonderland is on next.”
Summary: Sam looks after a feverish Dean.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Author: alienstars2004 / alienstarsfics
Beta: The lovely arglikeapirate. Thanks so much!
Series: 82 Bottles of Beer; Episode: 1.11 - Scarecrow
Rating: G
Warning(s): Wincest
Prompt Table: Here
If I Only Had a Brain
The key made a clicking sound as it turned in the beat up lock, and the door’s hinges creaked as it opened. Sam peered into the muddled darkness of the room as he stepped quietly inside, trying to keep the noise to a minimum.
The TV was on, some commercial for a ShamWow or SlapChop or whatever. The pale glow flickered, casting long shadows onto the bed and crumpled sheets around it.
Sam set the bags on the table, attempts to be quiet apparently failing when a congested sigh brought his attention to the first bed, the one directly in front of the TV.
“What’d you bring me, Sammy?” Dean’s voice was more than a little nasally, and Sam frowned, thinking Dean had sounded better that morning when he had left for the library.
“Dinner.” Sam answered, pulling out the burger and fries and carrying it over to the bed. “As if you could taste it.”
He didn’t mean to sound like a jerk, he was just tired from a full day of research that yielded frustratingly little, and hadn’t exactly been looking forward to coming back to a sick Dean. Dean sick was never pretty. He was either coherent enough to bitch constantly about how he hated being sick, or too out of it to function at all. While the latter meant not having to listen to bitching, Dean never failed to look utterly pathetic and miserable (which he probably was, but it still killed Sam to see him like that).
Dean pulled himself up, leaning against the pillow. He saw the burger and grinned tiredly before reaching for it.
“I got you some more cough stuff, too. Did you take the rest of what we had while I was out?”
“Yes, mommy.” Dean was already absorbed in unwrapping the food. He took a large bite and tilted his head to gaze at Sam. He swallowed before asking, “Sammy?”
“Yes?” Sam flipped the page of one of the books he had brought back, not looking up.
“You gonna eat?”
“In a minute.”
“Been at the library all day, haven’t you?”
“That’s where I said I was going.”
Dean frowned. “Then put the research down for the night.” He said it as if it were the most easy and obvious thing in the world.
Sam raised his head.
Dean stared back at him with sleepy, glazed eyes. “Come sit with me.” He asked, after a moment.
Sam couldn’t help but smile a little, wondering how out of it Dean was. He shut the book and grabbed his own food, taking the few steps to the bed.
“Here, I also got you this.” He set a cup on the bedside table. “Chocolate shake.” He continued, “Thought it would feel good on your throat.”
“You’re the best, Sammy.” Dean told him earnestly though another mouthful.
Sam was fairly certain Dean was loopy on the cough medicine. He laughed once, realizing his brother’s display of affection had led him to that discovery.
“What?” Dean looked genuinely concerned through slightly widened eyes. He blinked once, slowly, giving him an owlish appearance.
“Nothing, Dean.” Sam shook his head, faint smile still holding. He stretched out on the bed, propping himself against the headboard next to Dean.
“Wizard of Oz is on.”
Dean was definitely loopy. Sam casually reached over and felt Dean’s forehead. He didn’t pull away, which worried Sam a little. Dean hadn’t felt this warm when he had left, and that worried him more.
“Let me know when you’re ready for another dose.” Sam told him, nudging Dean’s shoulder with his own. He let it hold there, and Dean started to unconsciously lean into him for a moment, before he stopped. Sam looked down, cocking his eyebrow.
“Don’ wanna get you sick, Sammy.”
“I think if I were going to, I would have already gotten sick.” Sam shrugged.
Dean seemed satisfied with this and leaned into him. His eyes were half-closed as he watched the images on the screen.
“If only it were that easy.” He mumbled (Sam thought he heard a tint of genuine pout in his voice) as the Wicked Witch of the West melted into a puddle on the floor.
“It was probably holy water.” Sam interjected.
Dean laughed tiredly, coughing once. He shifted and his head dropped to Sam’s shoulder as Dorothy awoke safely back at home in black and white Kansas.
“This movie is such an acid trip.” He stated with conviction.
Sam laughed, a deep rumbling low in his chest. Dean frowned, but didn’t protest when Sam brought his arm around him, “By most people’s standards, our life could be considered an acid trip.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, his eyes seemingly a little glassier than earlier, “And how would you know what an acid trip is like?”
“You said it first, Dean.”
“Mm.” Dean waved his hand, pointing at the screen, “It doesn’t matter that you missed most of Oz.”
“Why’s that?” Sam asked, running his fingers through Dean’s hair, now reasonably sure he wouldn’t be pushed away. It wasn’t really that Sam wanted Dean to suddenly be more touchy-feely or to be more open with emotion and affection, that wouldn’t be true to Dean. He just wished his brother could let his inhibitions and doubts go more often.
“Alice in Wonderland is on next.”