So Tired Chapter 5
So Tired Chapter 5
Title: So Tired
Author: Crowley_Gal
Characters: Dean, Sam, John. Some names you may recognize but AU, for example Benny is Dean's math teacher.
Genre/pairing: Gen
Rating: Teen for swearing
Word-count: ?
Spoilers: none really
Warnings: Dean likes to swear.
Summary: The boys settle down for an extended period while John's away on hunt. It might be all fun and games for Sam but Dean's having a hell of a time trying to keep everything together.
Disclaimer : I don't own anything and I'm not making any money from this.
"BUT I WANT TO GO!"
"WHEN TELL YOU NO SAMUEL I MEAN IT!"
"NO IS THE ONLY WORD YOUR KNOW! ALL MY FRIENDS..." "...JUMPED...BRIDGE" "I'M YOUR FATHER..." ".....YOU....." "YOU WILL LISTEN..."
He could hear the argument the second he left the 4th floor stairwell (of course there was no elevator) and it wasn't surprising because those two fighting was as predictable as the sun coming up every morning. He sighed warily and reached up to rub his temple. His headache had started during inclusion and had grown steadily worse all night. He had no idea how he made it through his work shift. It felt like a construction crew with jackhammers, a demolition team, an all drums marching band and the cast of stomp had all taken up residence in his skull.
He was about to put his key in the lock and then he heard...
"....NEVER...NORMAL..." "YOU'RE BROTHER...." "....SAINT DEAN...."
His hand stopped midway and he dropped the keys like they were red hot. He turned and leaned against the wall and slid down as if he was boneless. Fuck, why the hell did they always have to bring him into this? If he went in there now he would be immediately dragged into the argument. Each wanted him to agree with their side of the argument. He didn't want to pick any side. He just wanted to get to his room so he could escape the noise but the odds of that happening were slim and none, closer to none.
It was a given that Dean loved his family more than life itself but he was fairly certain that he hated them right now. If they wanted to fight fine but it was their issues and they needed to stop dumping them on him. He couldn't make his dad change his mind, no matter what Sam thought and he couldn't force Sam's blind obedience, no matter what their dad thought. God, he just wanted to scream. If he went in there Sam would accuse him of never taking his side and his dad would get after him for not taking his side.
It was surprising that no one called the cops or the building manager, although though he couldn't say he'd be disappointed if they got kicked out. Easier to make ends meet in a hotel.
"YOU LET DEAN..." "DEAN...ORDERS!" "SORRY...PERFECT...WISH...FAMILY!" "KEEP IT...KNEE!"
Fuck! Fuck! Shit! The pain in his head was swelling exponentially and Dean found himself lightly tapping it against the wall in time with pulsating in his brain. He was debating the pros and cons of just giving it a good slam or going into the apartment. It was getting to the point where his dad was about to slam out and go get drunk and he really didn't want his dad to find him sitting in the hallway. That he didn't give John back up would just piss him off more. Sam never got in trouble for their fights. He did.
He was not ashamed to say that slamming his head into the wall would be the far more pleasurable experience. If he did it right at least he'd knock himself out.
"Is everything okay Dear?" A creaky voice suddenly cut into his thoughts.
"Fine," Dean mumbled and tried to avoid opening his eyes. The pain was starting to make them water and he didn't want to give anyone the impression that he was crying (because he sure as shit wasn't!).
"The shouting..."
"Just a disagreement, ma'am," Dean said trying to sound convincing. He attempted to open his eyes, even though the florescent lighting in the hallway suddenly tripled the pain in his head and it took every ounce of strength and energy he had in him to not moan in pain.
At least that was one thing this place had going for it. For the most part everyone minded their own business, as evidenced by the fact that this fight didn't seem to faze the neighbors. Dean didn't think she was really all that concerned, she was just a nosy old biddy who didn't like it when she didn't have the whole story. Which was another concern. She was probably going to start poking around if their dad left for days on end.
His life really did suck.
"I HATE YOU AND I HATE BEING PART OF THIS FAMILY!" This was punctuated by the sound of a slamming door and Dean figured that was his cue before his father stormed out. Drawing on every bit of strength he possess and some he didn't realize he had, he pushed himself warily to his feet. He fished the key out of his pocket and attempted to put it into the lock. It took a couple of tries since the pain in his head was so strong it was making his hand shake. Great, that was all the needed. He took a few deep breaths and make sure his "I'm fine" mask was screwed on tight as he stepped inside.
-----
The silence in the apartment was practically deafening. The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. He didn't see his father so he guessed he was in his room looking for the Impala's keys so he could go get drunk. He could see the door to his room open which meant that Sam was in the bathroom. Dean could hear the shower going. Sam liked to get his in the evening because as the youngest he was often stuck with the cold one. Sam would be in there for a while. It was here he disappeared to when he wanted space. The problem was that the Tylenol was in the bathroom and Dean really really wanted several of those.
"DEAN!"
He jumped at the unexpected sound of his name. "Yes sir," Dean replied in most respectful tone.
"I'm going out. Look after your brother. He's grounded so no soccer tomorrow. You drag his ass home right after school even if you have to throw him over your shoulder kicking and screaming. You understand me?"
"Yes sir." Of course he got the be the bad guy. Sam was seriously going to be a little bitch to deal with tomorrow.
"I'll be out late."
"Yes sir."
"Make sure you get your homework done. You damn well better eat something."
"Yes sir," Dean agreed even though the thought of food was making him want to puke.
"And don't think I forgot about your outburst this morning. You can damn well be sure..."
RING RING
Saved by the bell, Dean thought. He tried to make a break for his room when he heard his father call him. "Dean, I have to take this. Clean up for me would you?"
"Yes sir, just let me change out of my uniform," Dean said as he slipped by his father and into the safety of his bedroom. Hopefully his father wouldn't remember that his work uniform consisted of a vest. No sooner had he flopped down on his bed than it felt like someone started taking a sledge hammer to his skull. He couldn't help the whimper that escaped him or stop the tears leaking from his right eye. He knew that consequences be damned he couldn't go back out there. He couldn't wash dishes or eat supper or try to read textbooks or let himself get yelled at. He needed to be in here in the darkness and just concentrate on willing the pain away. He closed his eyes and just gave into his exhaustion.
------
Sam Winchester was beyond pissed off. Why the hell was his dad back so soon and have to screw everything up? He was counting the minutes until he turned 18 and could just be done with this family. It never mattered what he did he'd never measure up to St. Dean the Awesome, the best son in the history of the universe. Sam was as angry at his brother as he was his dad. He opened the door to his room and found said perfect son sound asleep. He knew that Dean didn't have his homework done, and he knew his father told him to clean up. A smirk came across his face as he reached for the light switch and flicked it on.
"Get up you lazy ass or I'm gonna tell dad!"
Dean groaned as the light suddenly assaulted his senses and it was all he could do not to cry out in pain. He groaned hoping it just sounded like he was pissed at Sam for waking him. He tried to bury his head under the pillow to block out the light. "Just go away, Sam," he said trying to keep his voice from shaking.
"Dad!"
"Sam, please just leave me alone, okay?" Dean asked in a resigned tone. "Turn out the light would you?"
"Guess you're not such a perfect solider after all," Sam sneered as he flicked the lights on and off a several times.
The already unbearable pain in Dean's head exploded exponentially so it wasn't surprising that he snapped. "GOD-DAMNIT SAM!!!! JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" He screamed as he grabbed his pillow and threw it at Sam with a surprising amount of strength.
Sam caught it full in the face. He wasn't hurt, just stunned. "YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE YOU KNOW THAT!"
"What in the hell is going on?" a voice thundered from down the hall.
"Dean's an asshole, and he's sleeping when you told him to do the dishes," Sam tattled.
"Dean! What the hell has gotten into you? Answer me when I'm talking to you boy!"
Fuck, he wished the ground would just open up and swallow him whole. "Dad, I promise I'll do them just let me get some sleep, please." Dean hated himself for begging.
"How come he gets to do what he wants," Sam complained.
"Nobody is, Dean get up now and do what I told you."
"Yez, zir," Dean slurred and tried not to yawn. It took a few attempts but he managed to get himself into a sitting position and made sure to keep his back to his father. He didn't think he was capable of getting his mask back on "Coming. Can you just turn the light off?" Dean said hoping his voice didn't sound as weak as it felt. He tried to stand but felt himself getting dizzy so he scrunched his eyes tight and dropped his head into his hands and tried to get his bearings.
Even the senior Winchester could admit that he'd never win father of the year but he wasn't blind or stupid and he could see that something wasn't right with his eldest. The stiff way Dean held himself and the way the light was causing him to try and keep his eyes covered could only mean one thing. Migraine.
"Sam, just turn off the light okay," John said, his whole demeanor changing. Contrary to popular believe he couldn't stand it when one of his boys was hurting.
"But you said he...."
"Sam, just do as your told!" John said impatiently.
"Fine!" he said as he flicked the lights a couple more times and Dean lost his battle and moaned with pain.
"DAMNIT SAM, DO AS YOUR TOLD FOR ONCE!"
"But..." Sam protested, not understanding his father's about face.
"Go stand in the corner. I'll deal with you later. "
"I HATE YOU!!!"
"Join the club," John mumbled as he went to his son. "Okay buddy," John said gently as he sat down next to Dean. Even in the darkened room, John could see that Dean wasn't well and he cursed himself for not noticing it earlier. He was pale, so pale his skin was almost translucent and the way his eyes squinted causing wrinkles John called pain lines were evident, and he held himself stiffly, like he was expending every ounce of energy to hold himself upright. "Why didn't you say something?"
Dean just shrugged. He really didn't trust himself not to hurl if he opened his mouth. "I'm going to see if we have anything in the med kit. I want you to lie down." John pulled back the sheets and helped Dean get under the covers. He closed the door in an attempt to keep the room as dark as he possibly could.
"Dad..."
"Please Sam not now, you're brothers got a migraine and its pretty bad."
"I'm sorry...I...I didn't know."
"I know Sammy. Look just go to lay down in my room. I'll look after Dean."
"He'll be okay right?" Sam asked, worry instantly evaporating his anger.
"Yeah, he just needs some rest and some good pain killers." His duffel bag was still in the car so he had to reluctantly leave the apartment. He hoped there were some Percocet's left or some dilaudid because Tylenol or other OTC meds would never cut it when Dean got this bad. Retrieving the kit, John looked through it as he climbed the stairs back to their apartment, cursing when he found the empty bottle. He knew he used the last of piece of paper on the prescription pad he stole for some antibiotics. That meant he had two options, one rob a pharmacy or two, take Dean to the ER. To be honest option 1 was far more pleasurable. Sitting in an ER for hours was going to be hell for his boy. The noise and the florescent lighting were just going to make things worse. But it was either that or let Dean lie there in pain.
When he walked back into the bedroom and found Dean puking into the garbage can he knew that he didn't really have a choice.
--------
"Can't we just go home. It doesn't really even hurt anymore," Dean protested as they entered the double doors at the local ER. Given how packed it was, Dean knew he was not seeing a doctor any time soon. If his head was going to explode Dean just wished it would hurry up and do it already.
"Okay, we can stop for burgers on the way home," John said challenging his son.
After almost hurling a couple of times, Dean just glared at his dad. "Can't you just bribe a pharmacist or something. I can't...." Dean trialed off, hating himself for almost admitting weakness.
"Take a seat and I'll get you registered. I'll see if there is some place you can lie down."
John got a clip board from the nurse and sat beside his eldest. Dean had pulled his hoodie over his head and had the drawstrings pulled tight, trying to block out the light. Dean laid his head on his father's shoulder and John could feel him trembling. He could just imagine how bad the pain was. It killed him that he couldn't do anything to stop it.
After reluctantly turning in Dean's real info because he couldn't afford to be caught committing insurance fraud since they were going to be sticking round, John got into it with the clerk and almost got kicked out. He wasn't asking to skip the fucking line. He just wanted a place where Dean could sit in a dark room. Fucking bureaucracy!
An hour later they were still sitting there as John watched as people who came in after him were called first. Okay, he understood triage but his kid was in pain. Didn't these fucking people understand that? When another ambulance crew crashed through the doors and one of the over head lights started flickering and every little sound no matter how big or how small was causing Dean to actually whimpering in pain he lost his temper and stormed up to the desk.
"Please!" John begged. "I'll wait all night but you must have a room back there were my kid can wait."
"Look!" the clerk told John firmly. "I told you before you have to wait your turn."
"And I told you, I wasn't asking to be seen before then, just a dark place where my son can wait."
"I told you if you didn't wait...."
"Dad!" a weak voice called to him.
Spinning around, Dean saw son slowly making his way over to him. "Dean, I told you to stay...."
"Doan...don...feel...sssoo...." Dean stopped talking and John could see him swallowing conversely and he knew what about to happen. Before he could ask for a basin, Dean leaned over and heaved. It was mostly just water and bile since he hadn't eaten anything all day (something they were going to have a long talk about when Dean was feeling better).
"Goo..." Dean slurred when he finished. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.
"It's okay, kiddo," John said smirking at the clerk who looked irritated. Several of the waiting room occupant got up and changed their seats. "I warned you," he couldn't resist saying.
The clerk paged maintenance and gave John a kidney shaped basin and asked him to have a seat. Just as he was about to get arrested for assault something finally went John's way.
"Henry, it's okay," a nurse in peach scrubs intervened. "Room two is free because the monitors in there are broken and won't be fixed until tomorrow. Dean can lay in there."
"Thank you...Debbie," John said reading her name tag.
"No problem. Let me see if I can get you some ice chips to rinse our your mouth. Just don't swallow any. I don't want you to have anything until the doctor see you."
----
Debbie was a God-send. They still had a long wait but she came in frequently to check on them, bringing ice chips and a cool cloth for Dean's forehead and coffee for John. John was tempted to ask her to marry him. She even sat with Dean while he went and called home to check on Sam.
"Everything okay?" she asked him when he came back in.
"Yeah. How ya doin' champ?"
"Peachy," came Dean's muffled reply. "Tire'"
"Try and get some sleep."
"Can. Hurrs.....Dad make it stop."
John looked helplessly at Debbie. "Can you do something? Anything?" John hated feeling so weak and so helpless.
"Let me see check on something. I'll be back shortly," she promised.
"Dad, can you just shoot me or something?" Dean pleaded.
"Don't talk like that," John admonished lightly. He looked up and was pleased when Debbie walked back in the door. He had no idea how to deal with Dean when he got like this. Mary always looked after the boys when they were sick, and Dean always looked after Sam. Who looked after Dean? That thought kind of jarred him when he realized that he was probably on his own for the most part. Had Dean ever got this bad when he was on his own?
No doubt about it, Mary was going to have the rack ready for him when he saw her again.
"Hey honey," Debbie greeted her young charge.
"Can you shoot me?"
"I wish I could, with lots of good drugs but I can't without the doctor seeing you, but I did get permission to give you some oxygen," Debbie explained as she opened a bag with a plastic cannula in it.
"It's a headache," John said stating the obvious and trying to keep the worry out of his voice. "What does he need that for."
"It's shown some promise for treating cluster headaches."
"What the hell are those!" John said, his voice raising.
"AHHHHH!" Dean shuttered involuntarily at the noise.
"Sorry kiddo. Dean doesn't have those cluster things."
"I didn't mean to imply he did," Debbie said apologetically. "Those are much worse than what Dean's got here. I just mentioned it because they're bad headache like migraines and sometimes oxygen can help." Debbie threaded the cannula over Dean's ears and turned on the flow to 10/l per minute.
"What if it doesn't help?" John asked.
"It can't hurt him. We'll look after him, promise."
"When?" John said to her retreating back.
-------
The oxygen did help some. Dean drifted in and out of sleep over the next couple of hours but he was still in considerable pain. John was seriously considering just going to medical school. It would be so much quicker.
"Mr. Winchester, my apologies. I'm Dr. Stacey. Kind of the worst night to be in here for a headache. Dean, can you lie on your back for me?"
"No!" he moaned.
"I know it hurts but the quicker we get this over with, the quicker we can give you the good drugs."
"Now, you're talkin' my language," Dean mumbled and he waited for his dad to help him turn over.
The doctor ran through a the normal vital signs. "BP's up but that is too be expected. Dean, right now I'm going to do something that's going to make you hate me."
He knew what was coming. He shook his head no.
"I have to," the doctor said apologetically.
"Is this really necessary?" John pleaded on Dean's behalf.
"I'll make it quick," Dr. Stacey promised. He pulled the pen light out of his pocket and pried open Dean's right eye and shown the light in and then he repeated the procedure with the left. Dean screamed and tried to roll back into a ball, breathing heavily. He didn't think he ever felt anything so painful in his life.
"DEAN!" John cried as he immediately went to his son's side. If looks could kill the doctor would have spontaneously combusted. "Hey, it's okay. It's over. Good stuff next." He glared at the doctor again daring him to disagree.
"You're dad's right, Dean. I'm going to prescribe some Imitrex 100mg IM. It should help you feel better soon. I'm also going to start have Debbie start an IV. I want you to have some fluids since you've been vomiting you're a bit dehydrated. It might be why the headache got so bad."
Dean could feel his father's glare shift from the doctor to him. "Can I have some water?" he asked hoping to placate his father.
"Sure, I'll have Debbie get you some. Just small sips though," Dr. Stacey cautioned. "Does it hurt anywhere else?"
"No," Dean lied. He didn't want to talk about the pain in his stomach because his father would have a fit if the doctor suggested the cramps he was getting lately were from not eating.
"Okay, I'll have Debbie get you set up and I'll leave you a prescription for an imitrex injector. Both 50mls and 100mls. Don't be a hero, if you're feeling pain use it and you should be able to avoid getting to this point. "
"Do I have to have an IV?" Dean asked with a hint of a whine in his tone. "Can't I just drink lots of water when I get home? Can't you just give me some pills?"
"He doesn't like needles," John said with a touch of amusement. The kid could stare down a 500 pound black dog without flinching but he had to practically be held down when someone tried to stick a needle in him. He still held Dean' hand though when Debbie came in and injected some medication into his shoulder.
"I'd prefer the IV. It would give you a quicker relief. Plus, I'm going to keep you here for the night."
"WHAT? WHY?" John said trying not to panic. This was only a headache, a bad one granted, but still just a headache.
"The IV will take about four hours and I will probably give you at least two bags."
"My other son is home alone," John replied.
"Dad, go watch out for Sammy. I'ma jus...gonna sleep." The medicine was kicking in and making him kind of drowsy.
"Okay. I'll be back to pick you up first thing tomorrow. Sleep well," John replied as he awkwardly patted Dean's shoulder. He started for the door.
It kind of stung that how easy it was to get his dad to leave but Dean couldn't stop himself from calling his dad back. "Can you...stay just for the..IV?" he asked hesitantly.
Crap, he really was the worst father. "Sure kiddo," he agreed and made the decision to stay until Dean was asleep.
-------
The night was uneventful and Dean spent most of it in a drugged sleep. He felt a little better thanks to the second injection he had. His head was still hurting but it was down to a dull roar and he was thankful when his discharge instructions included resting for the weekend. No school or work. He didn't care about the money right now because his bed never felt so good. He decided he didn't even care about how much it cost for his dad to fill his prescriptions. He was just grateful he had pain killers that were only for his headaches so that his dad couldn't use them. He only had four doses though so despite the doctors claims not to be a hero, he knew he had to use them sparingly.
He spent most of the weekend sleeping and he appreciated that his dad and his brother was both making an effort not to get into it with each other. It was kind of nice to be the one who was looked after for a change. But he had to remind himself not to get used to it because it never lasted.
This time was no exception.
TBC
Author's note- This story seems to have gotten away from me a bit. It was supposed to be 3 or 4 chapters but seems to have taken on a life of its own. I diverted a little from the original plot for this chapter because I can never resist a little hurt/comfort.
Please remember to stroke my muse's ego with some feedback. The more she gets the faster she lets me write.
Title: So Tired
Author: Crowley_Gal
Characters: Dean, Sam, John. Some names you may recognize but AU, for example Benny is Dean's math teacher.
Genre/pairing: Gen
Rating: Teen for swearing
Word-count: ?
Spoilers: none really
Warnings: Dean likes to swear.
Summary: The boys settle down for an extended period while John's away on hunt. It might be all fun and games for Sam but Dean's having a hell of a time trying to keep everything together.
Disclaimer : I don't own anything and I'm not making any money from this.
"BUT I WANT TO GO!"
"WHEN TELL YOU NO SAMUEL I MEAN IT!"
"NO IS THE ONLY WORD YOUR KNOW! ALL MY FRIENDS..." "...JUMPED...BRIDGE" "I'M YOUR FATHER..." ".....YOU....." "YOU WILL LISTEN..."
He could hear the argument the second he left the 4th floor stairwell (of course there was no elevator) and it wasn't surprising because those two fighting was as predictable as the sun coming up every morning. He sighed warily and reached up to rub his temple. His headache had started during inclusion and had grown steadily worse all night. He had no idea how he made it through his work shift. It felt like a construction crew with jackhammers, a demolition team, an all drums marching band and the cast of stomp had all taken up residence in his skull.
He was about to put his key in the lock and then he heard...
"....NEVER...NORMAL..." "YOU'RE BROTHER...." "....SAINT DEAN...."
His hand stopped midway and he dropped the keys like they were red hot. He turned and leaned against the wall and slid down as if he was boneless. Fuck, why the hell did they always have to bring him into this? If he went in there now he would be immediately dragged into the argument. Each wanted him to agree with their side of the argument. He didn't want to pick any side. He just wanted to get to his room so he could escape the noise but the odds of that happening were slim and none, closer to none.
It was a given that Dean loved his family more than life itself but he was fairly certain that he hated them right now. If they wanted to fight fine but it was their issues and they needed to stop dumping them on him. He couldn't make his dad change his mind, no matter what Sam thought and he couldn't force Sam's blind obedience, no matter what their dad thought. God, he just wanted to scream. If he went in there Sam would accuse him of never taking his side and his dad would get after him for not taking his side.
It was surprising that no one called the cops or the building manager, although though he couldn't say he'd be disappointed if they got kicked out. Easier to make ends meet in a hotel.
"YOU LET DEAN..." "DEAN...ORDERS!" "SORRY...PERFECT...WISH...FAMILY!" "KEEP IT...KNEE!"
Fuck! Fuck! Shit! The pain in his head was swelling exponentially and Dean found himself lightly tapping it against the wall in time with pulsating in his brain. He was debating the pros and cons of just giving it a good slam or going into the apartment. It was getting to the point where his dad was about to slam out and go get drunk and he really didn't want his dad to find him sitting in the hallway. That he didn't give John back up would just piss him off more. Sam never got in trouble for their fights. He did.
He was not ashamed to say that slamming his head into the wall would be the far more pleasurable experience. If he did it right at least he'd knock himself out.
"Is everything okay Dear?" A creaky voice suddenly cut into his thoughts.
"Fine," Dean mumbled and tried to avoid opening his eyes. The pain was starting to make them water and he didn't want to give anyone the impression that he was crying (because he sure as shit wasn't!).
"The shouting..."
"Just a disagreement, ma'am," Dean said trying to sound convincing. He attempted to open his eyes, even though the florescent lighting in the hallway suddenly tripled the pain in his head and it took every ounce of strength and energy he had in him to not moan in pain.
At least that was one thing this place had going for it. For the most part everyone minded their own business, as evidenced by the fact that this fight didn't seem to faze the neighbors. Dean didn't think she was really all that concerned, she was just a nosy old biddy who didn't like it when she didn't have the whole story. Which was another concern. She was probably going to start poking around if their dad left for days on end.
His life really did suck.
"I HATE YOU AND I HATE BEING PART OF THIS FAMILY!" This was punctuated by the sound of a slamming door and Dean figured that was his cue before his father stormed out. Drawing on every bit of strength he possess and some he didn't realize he had, he pushed himself warily to his feet. He fished the key out of his pocket and attempted to put it into the lock. It took a couple of tries since the pain in his head was so strong it was making his hand shake. Great, that was all the needed. He took a few deep breaths and make sure his "I'm fine" mask was screwed on tight as he stepped inside.
-----
The silence in the apartment was practically deafening. The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. He didn't see his father so he guessed he was in his room looking for the Impala's keys so he could go get drunk. He could see the door to his room open which meant that Sam was in the bathroom. Dean could hear the shower going. Sam liked to get his in the evening because as the youngest he was often stuck with the cold one. Sam would be in there for a while. It was here he disappeared to when he wanted space. The problem was that the Tylenol was in the bathroom and Dean really really wanted several of those.
"DEAN!"
He jumped at the unexpected sound of his name. "Yes sir," Dean replied in most respectful tone.
"I'm going out. Look after your brother. He's grounded so no soccer tomorrow. You drag his ass home right after school even if you have to throw him over your shoulder kicking and screaming. You understand me?"
"Yes sir." Of course he got the be the bad guy. Sam was seriously going to be a little bitch to deal with tomorrow.
"I'll be out late."
"Yes sir."
"Make sure you get your homework done. You damn well better eat something."
"Yes sir," Dean agreed even though the thought of food was making him want to puke.
"And don't think I forgot about your outburst this morning. You can damn well be sure..."
RING RING
Saved by the bell, Dean thought. He tried to make a break for his room when he heard his father call him. "Dean, I have to take this. Clean up for me would you?"
"Yes sir, just let me change out of my uniform," Dean said as he slipped by his father and into the safety of his bedroom. Hopefully his father wouldn't remember that his work uniform consisted of a vest. No sooner had he flopped down on his bed than it felt like someone started taking a sledge hammer to his skull. He couldn't help the whimper that escaped him or stop the tears leaking from his right eye. He knew that consequences be damned he couldn't go back out there. He couldn't wash dishes or eat supper or try to read textbooks or let himself get yelled at. He needed to be in here in the darkness and just concentrate on willing the pain away. He closed his eyes and just gave into his exhaustion.
------
Sam Winchester was beyond pissed off. Why the hell was his dad back so soon and have to screw everything up? He was counting the minutes until he turned 18 and could just be done with this family. It never mattered what he did he'd never measure up to St. Dean the Awesome, the best son in the history of the universe. Sam was as angry at his brother as he was his dad. He opened the door to his room and found said perfect son sound asleep. He knew that Dean didn't have his homework done, and he knew his father told him to clean up. A smirk came across his face as he reached for the light switch and flicked it on.
"Get up you lazy ass or I'm gonna tell dad!"
Dean groaned as the light suddenly assaulted his senses and it was all he could do not to cry out in pain. He groaned hoping it just sounded like he was pissed at Sam for waking him. He tried to bury his head under the pillow to block out the light. "Just go away, Sam," he said trying to keep his voice from shaking.
"Dad!"
"Sam, please just leave me alone, okay?" Dean asked in a resigned tone. "Turn out the light would you?"
"Guess you're not such a perfect solider after all," Sam sneered as he flicked the lights on and off a several times.
The already unbearable pain in Dean's head exploded exponentially so it wasn't surprising that he snapped. "GOD-DAMNIT SAM!!!! JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" He screamed as he grabbed his pillow and threw it at Sam with a surprising amount of strength.
Sam caught it full in the face. He wasn't hurt, just stunned. "YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE YOU KNOW THAT!"
"What in the hell is going on?" a voice thundered from down the hall.
"Dean's an asshole, and he's sleeping when you told him to do the dishes," Sam tattled.
"Dean! What the hell has gotten into you? Answer me when I'm talking to you boy!"
Fuck, he wished the ground would just open up and swallow him whole. "Dad, I promise I'll do them just let me get some sleep, please." Dean hated himself for begging.
"How come he gets to do what he wants," Sam complained.
"Nobody is, Dean get up now and do what I told you."
"Yez, zir," Dean slurred and tried not to yawn. It took a few attempts but he managed to get himself into a sitting position and made sure to keep his back to his father. He didn't think he was capable of getting his mask back on "Coming. Can you just turn the light off?" Dean said hoping his voice didn't sound as weak as it felt. He tried to stand but felt himself getting dizzy so he scrunched his eyes tight and dropped his head into his hands and tried to get his bearings.
Even the senior Winchester could admit that he'd never win father of the year but he wasn't blind or stupid and he could see that something wasn't right with his eldest. The stiff way Dean held himself and the way the light was causing him to try and keep his eyes covered could only mean one thing. Migraine.
"Sam, just turn off the light okay," John said, his whole demeanor changing. Contrary to popular believe he couldn't stand it when one of his boys was hurting.
"But you said he...."
"Sam, just do as your told!" John said impatiently.
"Fine!" he said as he flicked the lights a couple more times and Dean lost his battle and moaned with pain.
"DAMNIT SAM, DO AS YOUR TOLD FOR ONCE!"
"But..." Sam protested, not understanding his father's about face.
"Go stand in the corner. I'll deal with you later. "
"I HATE YOU!!!"
"Join the club," John mumbled as he went to his son. "Okay buddy," John said gently as he sat down next to Dean. Even in the darkened room, John could see that Dean wasn't well and he cursed himself for not noticing it earlier. He was pale, so pale his skin was almost translucent and the way his eyes squinted causing wrinkles John called pain lines were evident, and he held himself stiffly, like he was expending every ounce of energy to hold himself upright. "Why didn't you say something?"
Dean just shrugged. He really didn't trust himself not to hurl if he opened his mouth. "I'm going to see if we have anything in the med kit. I want you to lie down." John pulled back the sheets and helped Dean get under the covers. He closed the door in an attempt to keep the room as dark as he possibly could.
"Dad..."
"Please Sam not now, you're brothers got a migraine and its pretty bad."
"I'm sorry...I...I didn't know."
"I know Sammy. Look just go to lay down in my room. I'll look after Dean."
"He'll be okay right?" Sam asked, worry instantly evaporating his anger.
"Yeah, he just needs some rest and some good pain killers." His duffel bag was still in the car so he had to reluctantly leave the apartment. He hoped there were some Percocet's left or some dilaudid because Tylenol or other OTC meds would never cut it when Dean got this bad. Retrieving the kit, John looked through it as he climbed the stairs back to their apartment, cursing when he found the empty bottle. He knew he used the last of piece of paper on the prescription pad he stole for some antibiotics. That meant he had two options, one rob a pharmacy or two, take Dean to the ER. To be honest option 1 was far more pleasurable. Sitting in an ER for hours was going to be hell for his boy. The noise and the florescent lighting were just going to make things worse. But it was either that or let Dean lie there in pain.
When he walked back into the bedroom and found Dean puking into the garbage can he knew that he didn't really have a choice.
--------
"Can't we just go home. It doesn't really even hurt anymore," Dean protested as they entered the double doors at the local ER. Given how packed it was, Dean knew he was not seeing a doctor any time soon. If his head was going to explode Dean just wished it would hurry up and do it already.
"Okay, we can stop for burgers on the way home," John said challenging his son.
After almost hurling a couple of times, Dean just glared at his dad. "Can't you just bribe a pharmacist or something. I can't...." Dean trialed off, hating himself for almost admitting weakness.
"Take a seat and I'll get you registered. I'll see if there is some place you can lie down."
John got a clip board from the nurse and sat beside his eldest. Dean had pulled his hoodie over his head and had the drawstrings pulled tight, trying to block out the light. Dean laid his head on his father's shoulder and John could feel him trembling. He could just imagine how bad the pain was. It killed him that he couldn't do anything to stop it.
After reluctantly turning in Dean's real info because he couldn't afford to be caught committing insurance fraud since they were going to be sticking round, John got into it with the clerk and almost got kicked out. He wasn't asking to skip the fucking line. He just wanted a place where Dean could sit in a dark room. Fucking bureaucracy!
An hour later they were still sitting there as John watched as people who came in after him were called first. Okay, he understood triage but his kid was in pain. Didn't these fucking people understand that? When another ambulance crew crashed through the doors and one of the over head lights started flickering and every little sound no matter how big or how small was causing Dean to actually whimpering in pain he lost his temper and stormed up to the desk.
"Please!" John begged. "I'll wait all night but you must have a room back there were my kid can wait."
"Look!" the clerk told John firmly. "I told you before you have to wait your turn."
"And I told you, I wasn't asking to be seen before then, just a dark place where my son can wait."
"I told you if you didn't wait...."
"Dad!" a weak voice called to him.
Spinning around, Dean saw son slowly making his way over to him. "Dean, I told you to stay...."
"Doan...don...feel...sssoo...." Dean stopped talking and John could see him swallowing conversely and he knew what about to happen. Before he could ask for a basin, Dean leaned over and heaved. It was mostly just water and bile since he hadn't eaten anything all day (something they were going to have a long talk about when Dean was feeling better).
"Goo..." Dean slurred when he finished. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.
"It's okay, kiddo," John said smirking at the clerk who looked irritated. Several of the waiting room occupant got up and changed their seats. "I warned you," he couldn't resist saying.
The clerk paged maintenance and gave John a kidney shaped basin and asked him to have a seat. Just as he was about to get arrested for assault something finally went John's way.
"Henry, it's okay," a nurse in peach scrubs intervened. "Room two is free because the monitors in there are broken and won't be fixed until tomorrow. Dean can lay in there."
"Thank you...Debbie," John said reading her name tag.
"No problem. Let me see if I can get you some ice chips to rinse our your mouth. Just don't swallow any. I don't want you to have anything until the doctor see you."
----
Debbie was a God-send. They still had a long wait but she came in frequently to check on them, bringing ice chips and a cool cloth for Dean's forehead and coffee for John. John was tempted to ask her to marry him. She even sat with Dean while he went and called home to check on Sam.
"Everything okay?" she asked him when he came back in.
"Yeah. How ya doin' champ?"
"Peachy," came Dean's muffled reply. "Tire'"
"Try and get some sleep."
"Can. Hurrs.....Dad make it stop."
John looked helplessly at Debbie. "Can you do something? Anything?" John hated feeling so weak and so helpless.
"Let me see check on something. I'll be back shortly," she promised.
"Dad, can you just shoot me or something?" Dean pleaded.
"Don't talk like that," John admonished lightly. He looked up and was pleased when Debbie walked back in the door. He had no idea how to deal with Dean when he got like this. Mary always looked after the boys when they were sick, and Dean always looked after Sam. Who looked after Dean? That thought kind of jarred him when he realized that he was probably on his own for the most part. Had Dean ever got this bad when he was on his own?
No doubt about it, Mary was going to have the rack ready for him when he saw her again.
"Hey honey," Debbie greeted her young charge.
"Can you shoot me?"
"I wish I could, with lots of good drugs but I can't without the doctor seeing you, but I did get permission to give you some oxygen," Debbie explained as she opened a bag with a plastic cannula in it.
"It's a headache," John said stating the obvious and trying to keep the worry out of his voice. "What does he need that for."
"It's shown some promise for treating cluster headaches."
"What the hell are those!" John said, his voice raising.
"AHHHHH!" Dean shuttered involuntarily at the noise.
"Sorry kiddo. Dean doesn't have those cluster things."
"I didn't mean to imply he did," Debbie said apologetically. "Those are much worse than what Dean's got here. I just mentioned it because they're bad headache like migraines and sometimes oxygen can help." Debbie threaded the cannula over Dean's ears and turned on the flow to 10/l per minute.
"What if it doesn't help?" John asked.
"It can't hurt him. We'll look after him, promise."
"When?" John said to her retreating back.
-------
The oxygen did help some. Dean drifted in and out of sleep over the next couple of hours but he was still in considerable pain. John was seriously considering just going to medical school. It would be so much quicker.
"Mr. Winchester, my apologies. I'm Dr. Stacey. Kind of the worst night to be in here for a headache. Dean, can you lie on your back for me?"
"No!" he moaned.
"I know it hurts but the quicker we get this over with, the quicker we can give you the good drugs."
"Now, you're talkin' my language," Dean mumbled and he waited for his dad to help him turn over.
The doctor ran through a the normal vital signs. "BP's up but that is too be expected. Dean, right now I'm going to do something that's going to make you hate me."
He knew what was coming. He shook his head no.
"I have to," the doctor said apologetically.
"Is this really necessary?" John pleaded on Dean's behalf.
"I'll make it quick," Dr. Stacey promised. He pulled the pen light out of his pocket and pried open Dean's right eye and shown the light in and then he repeated the procedure with the left. Dean screamed and tried to roll back into a ball, breathing heavily. He didn't think he ever felt anything so painful in his life.
"DEAN!" John cried as he immediately went to his son's side. If looks could kill the doctor would have spontaneously combusted. "Hey, it's okay. It's over. Good stuff next." He glared at the doctor again daring him to disagree.
"You're dad's right, Dean. I'm going to prescribe some Imitrex 100mg IM. It should help you feel better soon. I'm also going to start have Debbie start an IV. I want you to have some fluids since you've been vomiting you're a bit dehydrated. It might be why the headache got so bad."
Dean could feel his father's glare shift from the doctor to him. "Can I have some water?" he asked hoping to placate his father.
"Sure, I'll have Debbie get you some. Just small sips though," Dr. Stacey cautioned. "Does it hurt anywhere else?"
"No," Dean lied. He didn't want to talk about the pain in his stomach because his father would have a fit if the doctor suggested the cramps he was getting lately were from not eating.
"Okay, I'll have Debbie get you set up and I'll leave you a prescription for an imitrex injector. Both 50mls and 100mls. Don't be a hero, if you're feeling pain use it and you should be able to avoid getting to this point. "
"Do I have to have an IV?" Dean asked with a hint of a whine in his tone. "Can't I just drink lots of water when I get home? Can't you just give me some pills?"
"He doesn't like needles," John said with a touch of amusement. The kid could stare down a 500 pound black dog without flinching but he had to practically be held down when someone tried to stick a needle in him. He still held Dean' hand though when Debbie came in and injected some medication into his shoulder.
"I'd prefer the IV. It would give you a quicker relief. Plus, I'm going to keep you here for the night."
"WHAT? WHY?" John said trying not to panic. This was only a headache, a bad one granted, but still just a headache.
"The IV will take about four hours and I will probably give you at least two bags."
"My other son is home alone," John replied.
"Dad, go watch out for Sammy. I'ma jus...gonna sleep." The medicine was kicking in and making him kind of drowsy.
"Okay. I'll be back to pick you up first thing tomorrow. Sleep well," John replied as he awkwardly patted Dean's shoulder. He started for the door.
It kind of stung that how easy it was to get his dad to leave but Dean couldn't stop himself from calling his dad back. "Can you...stay just for the..IV?" he asked hesitantly.
Crap, he really was the worst father. "Sure kiddo," he agreed and made the decision to stay until Dean was asleep.
-------
The night was uneventful and Dean spent most of it in a drugged sleep. He felt a little better thanks to the second injection he had. His head was still hurting but it was down to a dull roar and he was thankful when his discharge instructions included resting for the weekend. No school or work. He didn't care about the money right now because his bed never felt so good. He decided he didn't even care about how much it cost for his dad to fill his prescriptions. He was just grateful he had pain killers that were only for his headaches so that his dad couldn't use them. He only had four doses though so despite the doctors claims not to be a hero, he knew he had to use them sparingly.
He spent most of the weekend sleeping and he appreciated that his dad and his brother was both making an effort not to get into it with each other. It was kind of nice to be the one who was looked after for a change. But he had to remind himself not to get used to it because it never lasted.
This time was no exception.
TBC
Author's note- This story seems to have gotten away from me a bit. It was supposed to be 3 or 4 chapters but seems to have taken on a life of its own. I diverted a little from the original plot for this chapter because I can never resist a little hurt/comfort.
Please remember to stroke my muse's ego with some feedback. The more she gets the faster she lets me write.