Open Your Eyes Chapter 1
Title: Open Your Eyes
Author: Crowley_Gal
Characters: Dean, Sam, John
Genre/pairing: Gen
Rating: Teen for swearing
Word-count: ? Chapter 1 of 2
Spoilers: none really
Warnings: none really
Summary: In the aftermath of a hunt Sam and John are too caught up in their own issues to realize that Dean desperately needs them to see whats right in front of them.
Disclaimer : I don't own anything and I'm not making any money from this.
Authors note: This was written for a prompt at the Dean hurt/comfort meme on hoodie time. Anonymous requested a story about Dean getting hurt and John and Sam not noticing. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 1
"Well that sucked. I can't believe I had to give up my date with Amelia," 13 year old Sam Winchester bitched to his older brother.
"Look at this way Sammy," 17 year old Dean said and stopped to pause and he coughed up the murky and disgusting swamp water from his lungs. Damn, he hoped he hadn't swallowed anything. He had a big date this weekend he was determined not to get sick. "At least you don't need a bath."
"Screw you," Sam muttered as he picked himself up and walked out of the shallow swamp. "These were brand new jeans, too."
"I told you not to wear them," Dean replied as he got up and followed his brother. "OW!"
Whatever retort Sam had been about to utter died on his lips as he spun back toward his brother. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Dean replied and coughed again. He so hoped he wasn't getting sick. It would be his luck though. He reached down where he had just felt something scrape his ankle. He'd been forced to wear sneakers because he'd outgrown his boots and his father hadn't been able to replace them yet. There must have been a big pile of rocks or sharp twigs because whatever cut into this ankle had stung like a son of a bitch. Looking down, he realized his sock was torn, and he rubbed it lightly and saw small traces of red on his fingers. Great. He'd have to get dad to look at it and see if it needed stitches and he knew he needed to clean it immediately. The swamp had to be teaming with bacteria and who knew what else.
"Boys," John Winchester called out, his voice full of concern, to his son as he ran over to them. "You okay?
"Fine," Dean called back.
"Yeah, right," Sam mumbled and shivered.
"Sam, don't okay," Dean pleaded as he flexed his ankle and grimaced when he felt a twinge. Damn, he must have twisted it too. At least it wasn't broken because he can walk on it.
-----
This was supposed to be an easy hunt, John thought as he walked over to his sons. They were hunting a swamp nymph. They weren't even truly dangerous just very mischievous. They were pranksters and jokers but sometimes things went too far and there was one victim who accidentally fell off a cliff, another who got so scared she ran and lost her way and died from exposure and the last victim slipped into the swamp and hit his head and drowned. So it had to go. It wasn't even that hard to take them out. They're skin was harder than iron and there was a large spot under the horns on their heads where they were vulnerable, but anyone that could fire a gun could take one out. That was the part that was actually very easy because they were extremely vain creatures would loved to stare at themselves in a mirror. All you had to do was hold up a reflective surface It would be a perfect hunt for Sam to make his first kill because the Nymphs weren't very bright either. Once they saw their reflection they wouldn't move until the mirror was taken away. Dean was holding the mirror and bitching about not getting the kill. Sam was bitching about wanting to go to some party. John was waiting in the wings in case something went wrong because no matter how easy things seemed hunting was never a sure thing and if in the small chance you mess up and break the mirror Swamp Nymphs were incredibly strong.
He had no idea what happened. Dean was in position with the mirror and taunting the nymph to come and get them. Sam was standing off the side so he wouldn't be seen until the thing saw its reflection. Then the next thing he knew Sam aimed the gun but got distracted by something and he kicked at a rock before pulling the trigger. The rock hit the mirror cracking it, which enraged the swamp creature. Both Sam and Dean went flying into the swamp. Sam landing butt first and Dean landing on his left side. John's heart skipped a beat when he saw his eldest's head go under.
John took aim and shot the nymph before going to check on his boys, who both confirmed they were fine except that Dean was limping a little.
"Must have tweaked my ankle a bit the way I landed, Sir," Dean informed his dad. "Can you check it though. I think I broke the skin." He coughed again. "I might have swallowed a bit of water too."
"I think there are some left over antibiotics. I want both of you to take a dose when we get home. Dean, I'll check your foot when we get back to the car. Be prepared for some peroxide. Samuel, what the hell happened out there? You had it?"
Dean cringed, both from the thought of the sting of the alcohol and the fight he knew was about to break out.
"I didn't want to be there. I told you that," Sam reminded his father.
"You have a duty to this family. I'm sorry that interferes with your social life."
"Just once I want to be normal," Sam fired back.
Dean wanted to groan. When the normal vs duty debated started it could go on for hours with both Sam and Dad saying things they were going to regret.
"Normal is...."
"Dad my ankle hurts," Dean cut his father off and he exaggerated his limp a bit.
"Suck it solider. I'll check it at the car."
"Yes sir," Dean said with a sigh of frustration.
"Suck up," Sam mumbled.
-----
Dean was glad to see the car. He opened the passenger side door, sat sideways and stuck his foot out straight waiting for his father to come torture him.
"Dad its only 8:30. I can still make it to Sherry's house for a bit."
"Don't you start Sam," John replied as he approached Dean with the first aid kit in his hand. He squatted and grabbed Dean's leg pulling up his sopping jeans and checking out his injury. There was a fair amount of blood but it didn't look like it was enough to too need stitches. He poured some peroxide on a gauze pad and prepared to wipe off the blood and see the extent of the damage.
"It's not fair....
John's glare shifted to his youngest as his hand pressed the gauze pad into his son's foot. Dean hissed in pain. "I said suck it up. Samuel you screwed up here. You guys could have been hurt and you think you should be allowed to go to a party?"
"Dad..I..."
"I hate.."
"You will listen..."
"It was me," Dean interjected before the knock down drag out fight could start. "Ow." That had caused John to double the pressure on Dean's foot.
"Sit rep, solider," John said trying to keep the anger out of his voice.
"I got over confident sir. I was teasing Sammy about not getting distracted by seeing himself in the mirror. He told me to shut up but I didn't. The rock wouldn't have hit the mirror if hadn't deflected it."
"Damnit Dean! You could have gotten your brother killed! I give you one job! What out for your brother and you can't handle that! "
"I'm sorry dad," Dean said contritely.
"Well that wouldn't be good enough if Sam had gotten killed would it?"
Dean inhaled sharply. The pain he felt had nothing to do with the cuts on his foot. He didn't screw up. Sam told him he was bored. Dean told him to focus or dad would be mad. Sam told him to shut up, said he hated his life and kicked the rock directly into the mirror. Dean usually was going to get the brunt of Dad's anger no matter what, so he figured what the hell but he certainly hadn't expected his father to take it that far.
John knocked Dean's foot off his leg not even really checking it. Dean figured it couldn't be that bad. Although to him it looked a little swollen but he wasn't going to mention it if his dad didn't.
"Get in the damn car," John said angrily. "Back seat. When I'm done with you that foot will be the healthiest part of your body."
"Dean..." Sam said to his brother worriedly.
"Just keep your mouth shut Sammy and get in the fucking car."
But John did miss something. In his anger he failed to really check Dean's foot and he didn't see the two perfectly symmetrical round puncture marks spaced half an inch apart just above the line of Dean's sneaker. Nor did any of them see the rustle of the tall grass as the black, red and yellow creature slithered away.
------
Dean was surprised he did not get a lecture. He figured it was because Sam was in the car. He was sure he was in for it the way his dad was glaring at him. If looks could kill he'd have dropped dead on the spot. Apparently he underestimated just how mad his dad would get. He wondered if he could fake sick. Although that would probably just get him another lecture. The thing was Dean wasn't sure if he was faking. His stomach was starting to hurt and he could feel the beginning of a headache beginning to make itself known behind his right eye. He must have swallowed more water than he thought he did.
When they got home, Dean's punishment started immediately. John gave him a whole list of chores, make supper, clean bathroom, dishes, sweep and mop the whole apartment, wash the bed linens, clean the guns and translate 3 chapters of a book on demons from Latin to English. He was getting the physical training tomorrow plus he had an "appointment" with his dad after supper.
The only reason he got first shower was because he was soaked from head to toe. He was so distracted he really didn't give his ankle much thought expect to acknowledge that it was definitely swelling. He must have went over on it when he landed. He wasn't sure if he should be concerned that there really wasn't any pain.
He stripped off the bed sheets of the beds and trudged down 3 flights of the stairs to the laundry room. He had to stop and catch his breath on the way back as he found himself getting winded. Making supper was the last thing he felt like doing.
He opened the freezer and grabbed some frozen pattis, and fries, thanking a God he didn't believe in for having something easy to make. The trip to the laundry room did him in and he was starting to feel like he could just crash right at the kitchen table, but by the time his father ran out of things for him to clean and when he had to get up to start his PT tomorrow he'd be lucky if he got four hours. While he waited for the burgers to heat up he went and downed 3 aspirin. His headache was getting worse.
"WHY??" He heard his brother yell at his dad and he just wanted to groan. "Dean said he was the one that screwed up. Why am I being punished?"
"Because you didn't have to take the bait," John reminded his youngest. "You're lesson this weekend is going to be to learn that. Parties and friends are just that distractions. You have to be able to learn to ignore stuff like that meet your responsibilities."
"I don't want to. I want to live my life."
"I'm sure the victims of that Swamp Nymph would like to have lived theirs."
"Thats not fair. I'm just a kid. This is your fight."
"You will listen..."
---------
Trying to tune them out because this was going to go on for awhile Dean set the table and tried to ignore the rising nausea in his stomach the smell of frying beef was causing. He stuck some cheese on the patties to melt it a bit and called his dad and brother, even though eating with those two was the last thing he wanted to do.
The argument continued all through dinner, with lots of potshots coming his way when his father got frustrated with Sam. Dean just tried to ignore it and the fact that he was feeling crappier by the minute. Dean even got his own lecture about how money didn't go on trees and he shouldn't waste food when John finally noticed his eldests mostly full plate.
"Sam do you mind giving me a hand with the dishes?" Dean asked.
"DEAN!" John admonished sharply. "It's your punishment. Stop being so lazy and accept your responsibilities."
"Dad," Dean said softly ashamed to admit his weakness but he really was feeling terrible. "I don't..."
"Don't you start!" John cut him off. "You screwed up. Take it like a man."
"Yes sir," Dean mumbled and attempted to drink his water hoping it would calm his stomach. It was really starting to churn. The cramping was starting to feel worse.
"I'm going to get beer," John replied. "Dean, make sure this pig sty is cleaned by the time I get back. Are we clear?"
Dean tried to swallow but it felt like it was getting caught in his throat. "Yez zir," he mumbled.
-----
"Sam can you give me a hand, please?" Dean pleaded. "I'll go clean the bathroom. Just wash the dishes. There aren't many. I took the fall for you." Dean hoped his brother would take a little pity on him.
Part of Sam wanted to refuse and remind he his brother that he didn't ask him to but Dean did look a little pale. "You okay?
"Yeah," Dean lied. "Just a little tired." He grabbed a bucket and some Lysol and headed toward the bathroom. This chore sucked worse of all but he wanted to be near the toilet because he figured he was about 5 minutes away from puking up what little dinner he managed to eat. It was a good thing, too because no sooner had he got into the bathroom a cramp ripped through his stomach so bad that it doubled him over. He barely managed to sit on the toilet before everything he'd ever eaten in his entire life exploded out of him. He was feeling really shaky when he was done. He managed to get over to the sink and tried to drink some water hoping it would help but he had more trouble getting it down. He didn't think it was possible to have anything left in his bowel but another wave of violent cramping hit and this time he wasn't so fortunate about making it back to the toilet bowl.
KNOCK KNOCK
"Dean, you okay in there?" Sam asked. Dean hadn't exactly been quiet.
"Yeah," Dean called out, really hoping that Sam did not need to get in here. The place was a shithole, literally. It was going to be a bitch to clean up.
"Are you sure?" Sam asked worriedly. Dean seemed off and way to quiet since they had gotten back.
"I said I was fine!" Dean snapped. Go away, Sammy. Just go away.
"Okay. The dishes are all washed. Do you want me to start the translation for you?"
"Thanks Sammy," Dean said gratefully. The way his head was starting to pound, he'd never be able to do it and Sam was much quicker. "Just keep an ear out for dad." If their dad knew Sam was helping him there would be hell to pay.
"Kay. Are you sure your okay?"
"You know me, I'm always okay," Dean said flippantly.
------
Sam took out the latin dictionary and their dad's copy of Vince Field's Classification of Demons and tried to concentrate. He was getting worried about his brother. He knew that Dean had gotten sick and probably had diarrhea. He wasn't exactly quiet in there. He figured it was probably the swamp water, maybe some bacterial infection.
When Dean came out of the bathroom 45 minutes later he looked terrible. He was pale, sweating, and smelled exactly like what Sam figured happened in the bathroom.
"I better take over, Sammy," Dean mumbled. "Dad will probably be home soon." He swallowed convulsively.
Seriously, how the hell could he still feel like puking. He had done that twice while cleaning the bathroom. The only things left in him were attached but it felt like his body was trying to expel them anyway.
"You should go lie down," Sam replied. "I'll make sure dad knows you're not slacking. This is his fault anyway."
"Sam, please don't start with him again. Not tonight okay?"
"Only if you promise to stand up to him and tell him you aren't feeling well. I don't know why you let him treat you this way?"
"Treat you like what? Is there a problem Dean?" A deep gravelly voice asked.
Shit. "No sir. I'm fine. Just working on my translation."
"Then why is it in Sam's hand writing?"
"If you..." Sam started.
"I blackmailed him," Dean cut off his brother. He knew he was committing suicide when he watched his dad start to turn purple, but maybe if he could get his dad to send him to his room than he could pass out. There probably wasn't much time before that happened anyway.
"Dean James Winchester!" John ground out as if the words physically hurt. "You're seriously asking for it. Get to your room and don't show your face until I come for you."
"Yes sir," Dean mumbled and hightailed it out of the kitchen. Not to his room but the bathroom before he puked on the floor. Seriously what was left? He than stumbled to his bathroom before he heard the sound of his dad and brother shouting at each other again before. Probably the reason they hadn't heard him upchucking. He got 3 more aspirin, even though it was too soon. He got really scared when he couldn't get them down. It felt like they were sticking in his throat. He managed to get to his bed before he realized that all their sheets where in the laundry room. Great. His dad was going to blow an even bigger gasket if the beds weren't made.
Sam and John were so busy arguing they didn't even notice him leave.
------
Sam had every intention of telling their dad his worries about Dean and the disgusting noises he'd heard coming out of the bathroom but then he'd started arguing with his dad about how they shouldn't be hunting and that turned into a the normal vs family responsibility argument. Sam tried to defend his position and completely forgot about his brother.
Dean didn't think he'd ever be so happy to see the front door of the rundown apartment. He's had to pause about 3 times in an attempt to catch his breath. He should have just let his dad yell about the beds, attempting to climb the stairs was a mistake. It felt like he'd run a marathon and was trying to catch his breath through a drinking straw. He knew he was getting dehydrated from the puking and the diarrhea but he knew that drinking anything was just going to make it worse and the cramping in his stomach was starting to become unbearable as was the pain in his head. He knew something majorly wrong and he was going to have to suck it up and admit it to his dad.
He could hear the yelling as he approached the door and he just wanted to groan. He slipped inside and dropped the laundry basket by the door. They could make their own fucking beds. He just wanted his father to make things better.
"Dad..." he tried tentatively.
"YOU'RE A SMART KID..." "KID IS THE KEY WORD..." "DON'T SAUCE ME SAMUEL.." "THIS IS YOUR FAMILY...." "FAMILY SUCKS..." "....APPRECIATE WHAT...." ".....NOTHING..."
"DAD!"
"Not now Dean! Just finish what I told you do to and stop acting like a little princess about a few extra chores....and you.." John said turning his attention back to his youngest and the argument began again.
"DAD!!! I don't feel that...."
"I thought I told you to quit whinging. You're getting as bad as your brother," John cut off his eldest.
"I DON'T WHINE!" Sam insisted indignantly. "YOU DON'T LISTEN!!!!"
"I'M YOUR FATHER I DON'T HAVE TO!"
"THAT'S SUCH A GREAT RESPONSE!!!"
"But Dad?"
"DEAN!!! Go clean something or I'll give you something to really complain about!"
"But dad....."
"DEAN!!!!"
"Yes sir," he mumbled and slinked down off the hallway. He had to put his hand out and steady himself when the diziness started. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He'd was getting scared and he was no longer ashamed to admit he needed help. Fuck, he wanted it. His eyes landed on the phone. He was seriously thinking about it even though his father would have his head. Although at this point he'd welcome anything that made the pain in his stop. Maybe he could just ram his head against the wall.
"Daa...ddaad" Dean called down the hall and he was surprised to hear how shaky voice sounded. He doubted that his dad could even hear him. He wanted to go back to the kitchen but the hall way seemed about the length of the football field and he really didn't think he could make it. Then two things happened that cause him to say screw it. His vision suddenly blurred and everything looked hazy and with that and the dizziness he knew he didn't have the strength to make it. And he was doubled over again by a cramp and knew he wasn't going to make it to the bathroom and he knew he was going to soil himself, which happened 30 seconds later. He picked up the phone off the receiver slunk down the wall and dialled.
"911 what's your emergency?"
"He..hep..." He barely go the word out when he it seemed like he lost all the strength in his hand and the phone dropped to the floor. Dean just gave up and laid down hoping someone heard him as the operator desperately tried to get his attention.
------
"Just go to your room!" John ordered his youngest. "I'll deal with you later."
"I hate you!" Sam shot back at his dad as he stalked out of the kitchen where he quite literally tripped over his prone older brother.
"What the hell? Dean...."
"Sir...are you there can you hear me? Do you need help?" the operator called over the phone. "Do you need an ambulance, police?"
"DAD!!!!!!!"
-------
TBC
Please let me know if you enjoy it. My muse craves the feedback.
Author: Crowley_Gal
Characters: Dean, Sam, John
Genre/pairing: Gen
Rating: Teen for swearing
Word-count: ? Chapter 1 of 2
Spoilers: none really
Warnings: none really
Summary: In the aftermath of a hunt Sam and John are too caught up in their own issues to realize that Dean desperately needs them to see whats right in front of them.
Disclaimer : I don't own anything and I'm not making any money from this.
Authors note: This was written for a prompt at the Dean hurt/comfort meme on hoodie time. Anonymous requested a story about Dean getting hurt and John and Sam not noticing. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 1
"Well that sucked. I can't believe I had to give up my date with Amelia," 13 year old Sam Winchester bitched to his older brother.
"Look at this way Sammy," 17 year old Dean said and stopped to pause and he coughed up the murky and disgusting swamp water from his lungs. Damn, he hoped he hadn't swallowed anything. He had a big date this weekend he was determined not to get sick. "At least you don't need a bath."
"Screw you," Sam muttered as he picked himself up and walked out of the shallow swamp. "These were brand new jeans, too."
"I told you not to wear them," Dean replied as he got up and followed his brother. "OW!"
Whatever retort Sam had been about to utter died on his lips as he spun back toward his brother. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Dean replied and coughed again. He so hoped he wasn't getting sick. It would be his luck though. He reached down where he had just felt something scrape his ankle. He'd been forced to wear sneakers because he'd outgrown his boots and his father hadn't been able to replace them yet. There must have been a big pile of rocks or sharp twigs because whatever cut into this ankle had stung like a son of a bitch. Looking down, he realized his sock was torn, and he rubbed it lightly and saw small traces of red on his fingers. Great. He'd have to get dad to look at it and see if it needed stitches and he knew he needed to clean it immediately. The swamp had to be teaming with bacteria and who knew what else.
"Boys," John Winchester called out, his voice full of concern, to his son as he ran over to them. "You okay?
"Fine," Dean called back.
"Yeah, right," Sam mumbled and shivered.
"Sam, don't okay," Dean pleaded as he flexed his ankle and grimaced when he felt a twinge. Damn, he must have twisted it too. At least it wasn't broken because he can walk on it.
-----
This was supposed to be an easy hunt, John thought as he walked over to his sons. They were hunting a swamp nymph. They weren't even truly dangerous just very mischievous. They were pranksters and jokers but sometimes things went too far and there was one victim who accidentally fell off a cliff, another who got so scared she ran and lost her way and died from exposure and the last victim slipped into the swamp and hit his head and drowned. So it had to go. It wasn't even that hard to take them out. They're skin was harder than iron and there was a large spot under the horns on their heads where they were vulnerable, but anyone that could fire a gun could take one out. That was the part that was actually very easy because they were extremely vain creatures would loved to stare at themselves in a mirror. All you had to do was hold up a reflective surface It would be a perfect hunt for Sam to make his first kill because the Nymphs weren't very bright either. Once they saw their reflection they wouldn't move until the mirror was taken away. Dean was holding the mirror and bitching about not getting the kill. Sam was bitching about wanting to go to some party. John was waiting in the wings in case something went wrong because no matter how easy things seemed hunting was never a sure thing and if in the small chance you mess up and break the mirror Swamp Nymphs were incredibly strong.
He had no idea what happened. Dean was in position with the mirror and taunting the nymph to come and get them. Sam was standing off the side so he wouldn't be seen until the thing saw its reflection. Then the next thing he knew Sam aimed the gun but got distracted by something and he kicked at a rock before pulling the trigger. The rock hit the mirror cracking it, which enraged the swamp creature. Both Sam and Dean went flying into the swamp. Sam landing butt first and Dean landing on his left side. John's heart skipped a beat when he saw his eldest's head go under.
John took aim and shot the nymph before going to check on his boys, who both confirmed they were fine except that Dean was limping a little.
"Must have tweaked my ankle a bit the way I landed, Sir," Dean informed his dad. "Can you check it though. I think I broke the skin." He coughed again. "I might have swallowed a bit of water too."
"I think there are some left over antibiotics. I want both of you to take a dose when we get home. Dean, I'll check your foot when we get back to the car. Be prepared for some peroxide. Samuel, what the hell happened out there? You had it?"
Dean cringed, both from the thought of the sting of the alcohol and the fight he knew was about to break out.
"I didn't want to be there. I told you that," Sam reminded his father.
"You have a duty to this family. I'm sorry that interferes with your social life."
"Just once I want to be normal," Sam fired back.
Dean wanted to groan. When the normal vs duty debated started it could go on for hours with both Sam and Dad saying things they were going to regret.
"Normal is...."
"Dad my ankle hurts," Dean cut his father off and he exaggerated his limp a bit.
"Suck it solider. I'll check it at the car."
"Yes sir," Dean said with a sigh of frustration.
"Suck up," Sam mumbled.
-----
Dean was glad to see the car. He opened the passenger side door, sat sideways and stuck his foot out straight waiting for his father to come torture him.
"Dad its only 8:30. I can still make it to Sherry's house for a bit."
"Don't you start Sam," John replied as he approached Dean with the first aid kit in his hand. He squatted and grabbed Dean's leg pulling up his sopping jeans and checking out his injury. There was a fair amount of blood but it didn't look like it was enough to too need stitches. He poured some peroxide on a gauze pad and prepared to wipe off the blood and see the extent of the damage.
"It's not fair....
John's glare shifted to his youngest as his hand pressed the gauze pad into his son's foot. Dean hissed in pain. "I said suck it up. Samuel you screwed up here. You guys could have been hurt and you think you should be allowed to go to a party?"
"Dad..I..."
"I hate.."
"You will listen..."
"It was me," Dean interjected before the knock down drag out fight could start. "Ow." That had caused John to double the pressure on Dean's foot.
"Sit rep, solider," John said trying to keep the anger out of his voice.
"I got over confident sir. I was teasing Sammy about not getting distracted by seeing himself in the mirror. He told me to shut up but I didn't. The rock wouldn't have hit the mirror if hadn't deflected it."
"Damnit Dean! You could have gotten your brother killed! I give you one job! What out for your brother and you can't handle that! "
"I'm sorry dad," Dean said contritely.
"Well that wouldn't be good enough if Sam had gotten killed would it?"
Dean inhaled sharply. The pain he felt had nothing to do with the cuts on his foot. He didn't screw up. Sam told him he was bored. Dean told him to focus or dad would be mad. Sam told him to shut up, said he hated his life and kicked the rock directly into the mirror. Dean usually was going to get the brunt of Dad's anger no matter what, so he figured what the hell but he certainly hadn't expected his father to take it that far.
John knocked Dean's foot off his leg not even really checking it. Dean figured it couldn't be that bad. Although to him it looked a little swollen but he wasn't going to mention it if his dad didn't.
"Get in the damn car," John said angrily. "Back seat. When I'm done with you that foot will be the healthiest part of your body."
"Dean..." Sam said to his brother worriedly.
"Just keep your mouth shut Sammy and get in the fucking car."
But John did miss something. In his anger he failed to really check Dean's foot and he didn't see the two perfectly symmetrical round puncture marks spaced half an inch apart just above the line of Dean's sneaker. Nor did any of them see the rustle of the tall grass as the black, red and yellow creature slithered away.
------
Dean was surprised he did not get a lecture. He figured it was because Sam was in the car. He was sure he was in for it the way his dad was glaring at him. If looks could kill he'd have dropped dead on the spot. Apparently he underestimated just how mad his dad would get. He wondered if he could fake sick. Although that would probably just get him another lecture. The thing was Dean wasn't sure if he was faking. His stomach was starting to hurt and he could feel the beginning of a headache beginning to make itself known behind his right eye. He must have swallowed more water than he thought he did.
When they got home, Dean's punishment started immediately. John gave him a whole list of chores, make supper, clean bathroom, dishes, sweep and mop the whole apartment, wash the bed linens, clean the guns and translate 3 chapters of a book on demons from Latin to English. He was getting the physical training tomorrow plus he had an "appointment" with his dad after supper.
The only reason he got first shower was because he was soaked from head to toe. He was so distracted he really didn't give his ankle much thought expect to acknowledge that it was definitely swelling. He must have went over on it when he landed. He wasn't sure if he should be concerned that there really wasn't any pain.
He stripped off the bed sheets of the beds and trudged down 3 flights of the stairs to the laundry room. He had to stop and catch his breath on the way back as he found himself getting winded. Making supper was the last thing he felt like doing.
He opened the freezer and grabbed some frozen pattis, and fries, thanking a God he didn't believe in for having something easy to make. The trip to the laundry room did him in and he was starting to feel like he could just crash right at the kitchen table, but by the time his father ran out of things for him to clean and when he had to get up to start his PT tomorrow he'd be lucky if he got four hours. While he waited for the burgers to heat up he went and downed 3 aspirin. His headache was getting worse.
"WHY??" He heard his brother yell at his dad and he just wanted to groan. "Dean said he was the one that screwed up. Why am I being punished?"
"Because you didn't have to take the bait," John reminded his youngest. "You're lesson this weekend is going to be to learn that. Parties and friends are just that distractions. You have to be able to learn to ignore stuff like that meet your responsibilities."
"I don't want to. I want to live my life."
"I'm sure the victims of that Swamp Nymph would like to have lived theirs."
"Thats not fair. I'm just a kid. This is your fight."
"You will listen..."
---------
Trying to tune them out because this was going to go on for awhile Dean set the table and tried to ignore the rising nausea in his stomach the smell of frying beef was causing. He stuck some cheese on the patties to melt it a bit and called his dad and brother, even though eating with those two was the last thing he wanted to do.
The argument continued all through dinner, with lots of potshots coming his way when his father got frustrated with Sam. Dean just tried to ignore it and the fact that he was feeling crappier by the minute. Dean even got his own lecture about how money didn't go on trees and he shouldn't waste food when John finally noticed his eldests mostly full plate.
"Sam do you mind giving me a hand with the dishes?" Dean asked.
"DEAN!" John admonished sharply. "It's your punishment. Stop being so lazy and accept your responsibilities."
"Dad," Dean said softly ashamed to admit his weakness but he really was feeling terrible. "I don't..."
"Don't you start!" John cut him off. "You screwed up. Take it like a man."
"Yes sir," Dean mumbled and attempted to drink his water hoping it would calm his stomach. It was really starting to churn. The cramping was starting to feel worse.
"I'm going to get beer," John replied. "Dean, make sure this pig sty is cleaned by the time I get back. Are we clear?"
Dean tried to swallow but it felt like it was getting caught in his throat. "Yez zir," he mumbled.
-----
"Sam can you give me a hand, please?" Dean pleaded. "I'll go clean the bathroom. Just wash the dishes. There aren't many. I took the fall for you." Dean hoped his brother would take a little pity on him.
Part of Sam wanted to refuse and remind he his brother that he didn't ask him to but Dean did look a little pale. "You okay?
"Yeah," Dean lied. "Just a little tired." He grabbed a bucket and some Lysol and headed toward the bathroom. This chore sucked worse of all but he wanted to be near the toilet because he figured he was about 5 minutes away from puking up what little dinner he managed to eat. It was a good thing, too because no sooner had he got into the bathroom a cramp ripped through his stomach so bad that it doubled him over. He barely managed to sit on the toilet before everything he'd ever eaten in his entire life exploded out of him. He was feeling really shaky when he was done. He managed to get over to the sink and tried to drink some water hoping it would help but he had more trouble getting it down. He didn't think it was possible to have anything left in his bowel but another wave of violent cramping hit and this time he wasn't so fortunate about making it back to the toilet bowl.
KNOCK KNOCK
"Dean, you okay in there?" Sam asked. Dean hadn't exactly been quiet.
"Yeah," Dean called out, really hoping that Sam did not need to get in here. The place was a shithole, literally. It was going to be a bitch to clean up.
"Are you sure?" Sam asked worriedly. Dean seemed off and way to quiet since they had gotten back.
"I said I was fine!" Dean snapped. Go away, Sammy. Just go away.
"Okay. The dishes are all washed. Do you want me to start the translation for you?"
"Thanks Sammy," Dean said gratefully. The way his head was starting to pound, he'd never be able to do it and Sam was much quicker. "Just keep an ear out for dad." If their dad knew Sam was helping him there would be hell to pay.
"Kay. Are you sure your okay?"
"You know me, I'm always okay," Dean said flippantly.
------
Sam took out the latin dictionary and their dad's copy of Vince Field's Classification of Demons and tried to concentrate. He was getting worried about his brother. He knew that Dean had gotten sick and probably had diarrhea. He wasn't exactly quiet in there. He figured it was probably the swamp water, maybe some bacterial infection.
When Dean came out of the bathroom 45 minutes later he looked terrible. He was pale, sweating, and smelled exactly like what Sam figured happened in the bathroom.
"I better take over, Sammy," Dean mumbled. "Dad will probably be home soon." He swallowed convulsively.
Seriously, how the hell could he still feel like puking. He had done that twice while cleaning the bathroom. The only things left in him were attached but it felt like his body was trying to expel them anyway.
"You should go lie down," Sam replied. "I'll make sure dad knows you're not slacking. This is his fault anyway."
"Sam, please don't start with him again. Not tonight okay?"
"Only if you promise to stand up to him and tell him you aren't feeling well. I don't know why you let him treat you this way?"
"Treat you like what? Is there a problem Dean?" A deep gravelly voice asked.
Shit. "No sir. I'm fine. Just working on my translation."
"Then why is it in Sam's hand writing?"
"If you..." Sam started.
"I blackmailed him," Dean cut off his brother. He knew he was committing suicide when he watched his dad start to turn purple, but maybe if he could get his dad to send him to his room than he could pass out. There probably wasn't much time before that happened anyway.
"Dean James Winchester!" John ground out as if the words physically hurt. "You're seriously asking for it. Get to your room and don't show your face until I come for you."
"Yes sir," Dean mumbled and hightailed it out of the kitchen. Not to his room but the bathroom before he puked on the floor. Seriously what was left? He than stumbled to his bathroom before he heard the sound of his dad and brother shouting at each other again before. Probably the reason they hadn't heard him upchucking. He got 3 more aspirin, even though it was too soon. He got really scared when he couldn't get them down. It felt like they were sticking in his throat. He managed to get to his bed before he realized that all their sheets where in the laundry room. Great. His dad was going to blow an even bigger gasket if the beds weren't made.
Sam and John were so busy arguing they didn't even notice him leave.
------
Sam had every intention of telling their dad his worries about Dean and the disgusting noises he'd heard coming out of the bathroom but then he'd started arguing with his dad about how they shouldn't be hunting and that turned into a the normal vs family responsibility argument. Sam tried to defend his position and completely forgot about his brother.
Dean didn't think he'd ever be so happy to see the front door of the rundown apartment. He's had to pause about 3 times in an attempt to catch his breath. He should have just let his dad yell about the beds, attempting to climb the stairs was a mistake. It felt like he'd run a marathon and was trying to catch his breath through a drinking straw. He knew he was getting dehydrated from the puking and the diarrhea but he knew that drinking anything was just going to make it worse and the cramping in his stomach was starting to become unbearable as was the pain in his head. He knew something majorly wrong and he was going to have to suck it up and admit it to his dad.
He could hear the yelling as he approached the door and he just wanted to groan. He slipped inside and dropped the laundry basket by the door. They could make their own fucking beds. He just wanted his father to make things better.
"Dad..." he tried tentatively.
"YOU'RE A SMART KID..." "KID IS THE KEY WORD..." "DON'T SAUCE ME SAMUEL.." "THIS IS YOUR FAMILY...." "FAMILY SUCKS..." "....APPRECIATE WHAT...." ".....NOTHING..."
"DAD!"
"Not now Dean! Just finish what I told you do to and stop acting like a little princess about a few extra chores....and you.." John said turning his attention back to his youngest and the argument began again.
"DAD!!! I don't feel that...."
"I thought I told you to quit whinging. You're getting as bad as your brother," John cut off his eldest.
"I DON'T WHINE!" Sam insisted indignantly. "YOU DON'T LISTEN!!!!"
"I'M YOUR FATHER I DON'T HAVE TO!"
"THAT'S SUCH A GREAT RESPONSE!!!"
"But Dad?"
"DEAN!!! Go clean something or I'll give you something to really complain about!"
"But dad....."
"DEAN!!!!"
"Yes sir," he mumbled and slinked down off the hallway. He had to put his hand out and steady himself when the diziness started. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He'd was getting scared and he was no longer ashamed to admit he needed help. Fuck, he wanted it. His eyes landed on the phone. He was seriously thinking about it even though his father would have his head. Although at this point he'd welcome anything that made the pain in his stop. Maybe he could just ram his head against the wall.
"Daa...ddaad" Dean called down the hall and he was surprised to hear how shaky voice sounded. He doubted that his dad could even hear him. He wanted to go back to the kitchen but the hall way seemed about the length of the football field and he really didn't think he could make it. Then two things happened that cause him to say screw it. His vision suddenly blurred and everything looked hazy and with that and the dizziness he knew he didn't have the strength to make it. And he was doubled over again by a cramp and knew he wasn't going to make it to the bathroom and he knew he was going to soil himself, which happened 30 seconds later. He picked up the phone off the receiver slunk down the wall and dialled.
"911 what's your emergency?"
"He..hep..." He barely go the word out when he it seemed like he lost all the strength in his hand and the phone dropped to the floor. Dean just gave up and laid down hoping someone heard him as the operator desperately tried to get his attention.
------
"Just go to your room!" John ordered his youngest. "I'll deal with you later."
"I hate you!" Sam shot back at his dad as he stalked out of the kitchen where he quite literally tripped over his prone older brother.
"What the hell? Dean...."
"Sir...are you there can you hear me? Do you need help?" the operator called over the phone. "Do you need an ambulance, police?"
"DAD!!!!!!!"
-------
TBC
Please let me know if you enjoy it. My muse craves the feedback.