Fic: Heal
Title: Heal
Characters: John, Dean, Sam
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Word count: ~300
Summary: January 1: Y2K didn't end the world. New Year's Eve almost did Dean in, though. He's upstairs, immobile. I don't feel good myself. - John Winchester's Journal by Alex Irvine A prompt posted by purple_carpets at hoodie_time’s Winter/Holiday themed Dean-focused h/c comment-fic meme.
AN: My huge thanks to whit_merule and geckoholic for the beta.
John wiped Dean's chin and temple with a damp cloth, put the cloth in the small basin on the side table, and felt Dean's skin with the back of his hand.
"Feeling better, Dean?"
Dean shook his head a little, with obvious effort. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, as if even that small movement made his head spin.
John grimaced, too. He would've brought Dean to the hospital if the motel hadn't been snowed in, and the road hadn’t been so slippery that it would've been suicidal to even try.
His heart had leaped to his throat earlier when he'd heard a thud from Dean's room and found the kid sprawled on the floor several steps from the bathroom, unconscious. Dean had gagged when John had lifted him up, about to put him back to bed. He’d rushed him right away to the bathroom, where Dean had retched and retched until he could only dry heave. John left Dean curled around the toilet bowl. His frail body shook slightly and sometimes tensed when he was about to hurl again. Only after almost half an hour had Dean settled down enough for John to take him back to bed.
John didn’t know what had made Dean sick-perhaps those Y2K bugs that had failed to crash the computer systems in the country, John thought wryly. He felt helpless. He couldn’t do a thing to cure him.
The door clicked softly open and Sam walked in, slipping under the comforter and into the bed behind Dean. His eyes flew to John’s, seeking his permission. John nodded.
“Go on, kid,” he said. Sam shifted closer to Dean and wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist. John saw how Dean, who had begun to doze off, started a little before he eased up. His breathing quieted, his eyes fluttered close, and soon he was deep in sleep.
John patted Sam’s leg and fixed the blanket as he rose to his feet. Perhaps Sam was all Dean needed to heal.
~~~
Characters: John, Dean, Sam
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Word count: ~300
Summary: January 1: Y2K didn't end the world. New Year's Eve almost did Dean in, though. He's upstairs, immobile. I don't feel good myself. - John Winchester's Journal by Alex Irvine A prompt posted by purple_carpets at hoodie_time’s Winter/Holiday themed Dean-focused h/c comment-fic meme.
AN: My huge thanks to whit_merule and geckoholic for the beta.
John wiped Dean's chin and temple with a damp cloth, put the cloth in the small basin on the side table, and felt Dean's skin with the back of his hand.
"Feeling better, Dean?"
Dean shook his head a little, with obvious effort. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, as if even that small movement made his head spin.
John grimaced, too. He would've brought Dean to the hospital if the motel hadn't been snowed in, and the road hadn’t been so slippery that it would've been suicidal to even try.
His heart had leaped to his throat earlier when he'd heard a thud from Dean's room and found the kid sprawled on the floor several steps from the bathroom, unconscious. Dean had gagged when John had lifted him up, about to put him back to bed. He’d rushed him right away to the bathroom, where Dean had retched and retched until he could only dry heave. John left Dean curled around the toilet bowl. His frail body shook slightly and sometimes tensed when he was about to hurl again. Only after almost half an hour had Dean settled down enough for John to take him back to bed.
John didn’t know what had made Dean sick-perhaps those Y2K bugs that had failed to crash the computer systems in the country, John thought wryly. He felt helpless. He couldn’t do a thing to cure him.
The door clicked softly open and Sam walked in, slipping under the comforter and into the bed behind Dean. His eyes flew to John’s, seeking his permission. John nodded.
“Go on, kid,” he said. Sam shifted closer to Dean and wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist. John saw how Dean, who had begun to doze off, started a little before he eased up. His breathing quieted, his eyes fluttered close, and soon he was deep in sleep.
John patted Sam’s leg and fixed the blanket as he rose to his feet. Perhaps Sam was all Dean needed to heal.
~~~