A brother worth remembering 1/1
Title: A brother worth remembering
Words:2120
Author: giantslinky
Characters: Sam & Dean
Disclaimers: Just for fun, I don't own Sam, Dean or Supernatural and I never will (sad sigh)
SUMMARY & A/N: This is a fill for my friend Nadas lovely prompt: Dean falling from a small hill and hitting his head. He is injured badly and can't remember who or where he is.
This probably isn't exactly what you had in my mind but I hope you like it my sweet polar bear.♥. -I'd also like to say that all my medical knowledge comes from reading other fics-
Oh! And this takes place in like late season 2
---DEAN'S POV----
It's raining when it happens. Of course it is. They're digging up a grave in fuck-knows-where-Alabama, in the pouring rain. And they're both soaked through, dirty, more than over tired and just generally pissed at everything and everyone.
Dean huffs out an angry breath and stops the movement of the shovel. He looks over at Sam who's holding the flashlight and trying to shine it where Dean has been digging. Except Sam is doing an exceptionally poor job of doing so.
"Sam!" Sam blinks himself awake and flails all over with the flashlight, managing to hit Dean straight in the eyes with the beam. "Damn it, Sammy. What are you, a horse? You can't fall asleep standing up. you're gonna fall right into the hole I'm trying to dig. Which is a little hard seeing that I don't have my night vision goggles on and you're pointing the flashlight, at your own feet!" What started out as an angry hissing has now turned into full yelling and Dean doesn't even care. He's too angry too care, too frickin tired. He knows Sam is too, obviously. But he is also too tired to feel any sort of sympathy or compassion.
Sam just glares at him and points the flashlight at the grave while giving him an almighty bitchface. The salting and burning goes surprisingly smooth. No second spirit jumping them from behind, no nothing. They pack up their shit and start walking towards the car when Dean slips. Of course he does. And of course the cemetery had to be on top of a fucking hill.
Now, Dean isn't really sure what happens next, and he can't see what he looks like. But from what it feels like, he flies down the hill in one long cartwheel. When he finally rolls to a stop, limbs everywhere, he hears something snap and crack. Before his vision completely blackens he sees Sam hurling himself down the hill. Little brother to the rescue.
------
"Dean? Honey, are you awake?" Hurting. God is he hurting. The soft voice calls him again. Where is he? The curiosity wins over the pain and Dean peels open his eyes with caution. His vision fills with bright light and his eyes water a little. He blinks a blonde woman into focus. She has a name tag that says Diane. "Hi, you with me?" She speaks gently to him and he feels her hand holding his own with the same gentleness. "Hospital?" Is what he means to ask but it sounds more like "hsspal?" She understands though and nods. "Your brother brought you here two days ago. He said you fell down a hill while you were camping, do you remember?"
Dean blinks his heavy eyelids. Camping? Brother? He feels the panic surge through him. He can't remember, he can't remember... He grips the woman's hand a little harder, confused and scared.
"I don't remember who I am."
----
The next time Dean wakes up he's alone. They gave him something before. A sedative, because he was freaking out. Is freaking out. Apparently he came here with his brother. Dean looks around the small room and can't find any signs of a brother ever having been there. There is a chair pulled up close to the bed but no jacket hanging over its back, nothing on the side table.
He's more alert now, more awake, and the pain is still pretty bad. He tries to take a deep breath. "Son of a bitch" Not a good idea. Pain explodes in his chest and he fists the sheets beneath him. He closes his eyes and carefully breathes in and out. The pain in his head is an ever present rhythm of pain and it beats in time with his sped up pulse.
"Dean, you're awake!" The voice is soft but clearly excited. Dean peeps his eyes open and looks up, up, and sees a tall man standing beside his bed.
"Hey man, you in pain? I can get someone to get you more meds." Dean just stares and the tall man sighs and walks over to the chair. He puts down a paper mug on the side table and steam rises from it. "You have some busted ribs and a concussion. Good thing you have a thick head, dude." The man laughs a little but stops immediately when he doesn't get a reaction from Dean. "Dean" he says slowly "you okay, bro? Say something."
"Who are you?" Dean lets go of the sheet with his right hand and grips the bed railing instead. His headache is getting stronger as he watches the man's face flood with a storm of emotions. He tries to concentrate. There is something about this man...something he should remember.
"Dean its..it's me, Sam!" The man leans forward and takes Dean's left hand. "C'mon man. If this is one of your stupid jokes you better knock it off. Don't make me start a prank war on you because you know I'll win." It's almost unbearable now, the pain. Dean slowly drags his hand away from the stranger and cradles his head with both hands. He lets out a long whimper and somewhere in the background he hears the man talking quickly. He succumbs to the pain.
---
Dean loses some time. He sleeps a lot and whenever he's awake they want to take him for more tests. He has just been resettled from one of those tests when tall g-Sam walks into the room. "Hey, Dean. How did it go?" He notices the way Sam always uses his name. Maybe he thinks it'll help Dean remember him. But it doesn't. The doctors have told him that it's probably just temporary, that it'll disappear with the concussion. But Dean isn't so sure, and it's freaking him the hell out. "Hi, Sam." He tries to sound casual. "Went good I guess. Haven't heard anything."
Sam nods and puts a cup on the table near Dean. "I got you some more water." Dean smiles. He hadn't even said anything about his throat hurting. This must really be his brother. "Thanks, Sam." Dean reaches for the cup but stops when the motion hurts his ribs. He hisses softly and lays his arm back down. Sam instantly looks worried. "Ribs hurting you?" Dean just nods and breathes through his nose. Sam then smiles. "Oh right! I've got something that might help." Dean looks curiously at him as Sam searches for something in his bag.
"Got it, got it!" Sam looks triumphant and sheepish at the same time as a straw emerges from the bag. Sam puts it in the cup which he gently places in Dean's hand. Dean can't help but laugh a little at the straw's practically screaming shade of green. "Thanks, Sam" he says again and takes a sip.
"It's Sammy actually."
Dean is genuinely confused. "What?"
Sam looks down. "Um it's just...you usually call me Sammy."
Oh. "Oh. Sorry. I'll try to remember."
"No it's okay, man. I'm sorry. Sam is fine. You just take your time, alright?"
Dean takes another sip before he answers. "Yeah, sure."
Sam, sensing Dean's hesitation, gives him a gentle smile. "Look, Dean. I know you don't believe it now, but you're gonna get better. You will remember. And you wanna know why? Because you're Dean Winchester. I know that doesn't mean anything to you right now but it does to me. And I know that if there is anyone that can get through this, it's Dean Winchester.
Dean just snorts out a laugh. "You are such a girl". As soon as he says it his head snaps up and meets Sam's identical look of shock. "Wait that's...that's something I usually say, right? That felt.." he doesn't know what it felt like. Right? Familiar?
Sam is beaming. "Dude! Yes, you say stuff like that all the time. I mean I would prefer if you didn't but that doesn't matter right now. I told you Dean, you're starting to remember!" And Dean is so happy for the kid he listens to him and lets go of his worries for now.
-----SAM'S POV-------
Sam gets the call at two in the morning. He had gotten back to the motel. The nice nurses had taking pity on both the Winchester boys and let Sam stay past and before visiting hours. But now Diane had put her foot down and ordered him to at least go home and take a shower, eat a real meal and sleep a few hours. Sam had hesitantly listened to her, not telling her that home right now is The blue cow motel and the real meal would be a salad from the gas station.
He has just been asleep for a few hours when something wakes him up. At first, he's so groggy that he stands up and goes to look for the remote control, convinced that the TV is making the noise. But then the melody sounds again and Sam realizes with dread that it's his phone. Immediately he knows that it's about Dean. Something's wrong. He throws himself at the phone and flings it open, almost breaking it in the process.
"What's wrong? Is it Dean, is he okay?"
" Sam? it's Diane. You need to come to the hospital right now." Dread blossoms deep inside his stomach. He grabs his jeans and tries to pull them on while still holding on to the phone.
"What happened?"
"Dean's rib, the broken one, it punctured his lung and they're gonna take him to surgery right now to get it inflated."
The fear makes him clumsy. He falls over his shoes in his haste. "I'll be right there." He hangs up the phone and runs to the impala in his socks.
By the time Sam arrives to the hospital the surgery is over and he quickly finds Dean's attending physician, Dr. Stevens.
Sam is slightly out of breath from running up all the stairs when he asks "How did it go, how is he?
"The procedure went well, because of the pnemothorax we had to insert a small chest tube in your brother's chest cavity."
"But what happened? He was fine when I left." Sam's angry. Mostly at himself for agreeing to leave his brother, but also at the hospital staff. This could've been avoided. Right?
"We were, as you know, monitoring him closely and he was okay when you left. But then alarms started going off in his room and when the nurses came to check on him he had pulled out his IV amongst other things in his sleep. He had been so restless that more pressure had been applied to his lung and it punctured." The doctor takes in Sam's look of horror and smiles reassuringly.
"Sam, you're brother's going to be ok. If he stays still during the nights and lets the chest tube do its thing, it'll heal nicely. We can restrain him to prevent furthe- Sam shakes his head. "That won't be necessary, doc, I'll be here to watch him."
Ten minutes later Sam gets to see Dean. Dr. Stevens had tried to prepare Sam. He had told him that Dean's wearing an oxygen mask and Sam'll be able to see the small tube producing from his chest. But it's still a chock to Sam to see how pale Dean is underneath that mask. Sam walks over on shaky legs and sits down on the chair besides Dean's bed. He takes Dean's hand. "Hey, big bro. I can't leave you for a couple of hours to get some sleep without you causing a fuss, huh?" He smiles fondly. He should let Dean sleep, he knows that. But he needs to hear his voice, or at least see his eyes, to know that he's really ok. That he's still there. "Dean" he singsongs "come on you big jerk, you're not gonna let me have this chick flick moment, are you?" Nothing. Not even a twitch of the slack fingers in Sam's own hand. He sighs, leans back in his chair. "Alright Dean, you take your time. I'll be right here."
Just as he's about to nod of, he hears it. It's low and very raspy. He almost misses it.
"Bitch." It's a beautiful sound.
Sam barks out a surprised laugh, sounds kinda like a sob, and regrets it immediately when Dean's brow furrows at the loud noise. Sam scoots forward, his big smile hurting his face. "Dean." he chokes out. He grips Dean's arm and watches as Dean blinks sleepily. "Dean." he says again, a little desperate.
When Dean answers him, it's with a small smile of his own. Sam can hear him loud and clear, despite of the mask.
"It's okay, Sammy. I remember now."
Words:2120
Author: giantslinky
Characters: Sam & Dean
Disclaimers: Just for fun, I don't own Sam, Dean or Supernatural and I never will (sad sigh)
SUMMARY & A/N: This is a fill for my friend Nadas lovely prompt: Dean falling from a small hill and hitting his head. He is injured badly and can't remember who or where he is.
This probably isn't exactly what you had in my mind but I hope you like it my sweet polar bear.♥. -I'd also like to say that all my medical knowledge comes from reading other fics-
Oh! And this takes place in like late season 2
---DEAN'S POV----
It's raining when it happens. Of course it is. They're digging up a grave in fuck-knows-where-Alabama, in the pouring rain. And they're both soaked through, dirty, more than over tired and just generally pissed at everything and everyone.
Dean huffs out an angry breath and stops the movement of the shovel. He looks over at Sam who's holding the flashlight and trying to shine it where Dean has been digging. Except Sam is doing an exceptionally poor job of doing so.
"Sam!" Sam blinks himself awake and flails all over with the flashlight, managing to hit Dean straight in the eyes with the beam. "Damn it, Sammy. What are you, a horse? You can't fall asleep standing up. you're gonna fall right into the hole I'm trying to dig. Which is a little hard seeing that I don't have my night vision goggles on and you're pointing the flashlight, at your own feet!" What started out as an angry hissing has now turned into full yelling and Dean doesn't even care. He's too angry too care, too frickin tired. He knows Sam is too, obviously. But he is also too tired to feel any sort of sympathy or compassion.
Sam just glares at him and points the flashlight at the grave while giving him an almighty bitchface. The salting and burning goes surprisingly smooth. No second spirit jumping them from behind, no nothing. They pack up their shit and start walking towards the car when Dean slips. Of course he does. And of course the cemetery had to be on top of a fucking hill.
Now, Dean isn't really sure what happens next, and he can't see what he looks like. But from what it feels like, he flies down the hill in one long cartwheel. When he finally rolls to a stop, limbs everywhere, he hears something snap and crack. Before his vision completely blackens he sees Sam hurling himself down the hill. Little brother to the rescue.
------
"Dean? Honey, are you awake?" Hurting. God is he hurting. The soft voice calls him again. Where is he? The curiosity wins over the pain and Dean peels open his eyes with caution. His vision fills with bright light and his eyes water a little. He blinks a blonde woman into focus. She has a name tag that says Diane. "Hi, you with me?" She speaks gently to him and he feels her hand holding his own with the same gentleness. "Hospital?" Is what he means to ask but it sounds more like "hsspal?" She understands though and nods. "Your brother brought you here two days ago. He said you fell down a hill while you were camping, do you remember?"
Dean blinks his heavy eyelids. Camping? Brother? He feels the panic surge through him. He can't remember, he can't remember... He grips the woman's hand a little harder, confused and scared.
"I don't remember who I am."
----
The next time Dean wakes up he's alone. They gave him something before. A sedative, because he was freaking out. Is freaking out. Apparently he came here with his brother. Dean looks around the small room and can't find any signs of a brother ever having been there. There is a chair pulled up close to the bed but no jacket hanging over its back, nothing on the side table.
He's more alert now, more awake, and the pain is still pretty bad. He tries to take a deep breath. "Son of a bitch" Not a good idea. Pain explodes in his chest and he fists the sheets beneath him. He closes his eyes and carefully breathes in and out. The pain in his head is an ever present rhythm of pain and it beats in time with his sped up pulse.
"Dean, you're awake!" The voice is soft but clearly excited. Dean peeps his eyes open and looks up, up, and sees a tall man standing beside his bed.
"Hey man, you in pain? I can get someone to get you more meds." Dean just stares and the tall man sighs and walks over to the chair. He puts down a paper mug on the side table and steam rises from it. "You have some busted ribs and a concussion. Good thing you have a thick head, dude." The man laughs a little but stops immediately when he doesn't get a reaction from Dean. "Dean" he says slowly "you okay, bro? Say something."
"Who are you?" Dean lets go of the sheet with his right hand and grips the bed railing instead. His headache is getting stronger as he watches the man's face flood with a storm of emotions. He tries to concentrate. There is something about this man...something he should remember.
"Dean its..it's me, Sam!" The man leans forward and takes Dean's left hand. "C'mon man. If this is one of your stupid jokes you better knock it off. Don't make me start a prank war on you because you know I'll win." It's almost unbearable now, the pain. Dean slowly drags his hand away from the stranger and cradles his head with both hands. He lets out a long whimper and somewhere in the background he hears the man talking quickly. He succumbs to the pain.
---
Dean loses some time. He sleeps a lot and whenever he's awake they want to take him for more tests. He has just been resettled from one of those tests when tall g-Sam walks into the room. "Hey, Dean. How did it go?" He notices the way Sam always uses his name. Maybe he thinks it'll help Dean remember him. But it doesn't. The doctors have told him that it's probably just temporary, that it'll disappear with the concussion. But Dean isn't so sure, and it's freaking him the hell out. "Hi, Sam." He tries to sound casual. "Went good I guess. Haven't heard anything."
Sam nods and puts a cup on the table near Dean. "I got you some more water." Dean smiles. He hadn't even said anything about his throat hurting. This must really be his brother. "Thanks, Sam." Dean reaches for the cup but stops when the motion hurts his ribs. He hisses softly and lays his arm back down. Sam instantly looks worried. "Ribs hurting you?" Dean just nods and breathes through his nose. Sam then smiles. "Oh right! I've got something that might help." Dean looks curiously at him as Sam searches for something in his bag.
"Got it, got it!" Sam looks triumphant and sheepish at the same time as a straw emerges from the bag. Sam puts it in the cup which he gently places in Dean's hand. Dean can't help but laugh a little at the straw's practically screaming shade of green. "Thanks, Sam" he says again and takes a sip.
"It's Sammy actually."
Dean is genuinely confused. "What?"
Sam looks down. "Um it's just...you usually call me Sammy."
Oh. "Oh. Sorry. I'll try to remember."
"No it's okay, man. I'm sorry. Sam is fine. You just take your time, alright?"
Dean takes another sip before he answers. "Yeah, sure."
Sam, sensing Dean's hesitation, gives him a gentle smile. "Look, Dean. I know you don't believe it now, but you're gonna get better. You will remember. And you wanna know why? Because you're Dean Winchester. I know that doesn't mean anything to you right now but it does to me. And I know that if there is anyone that can get through this, it's Dean Winchester.
Dean just snorts out a laugh. "You are such a girl". As soon as he says it his head snaps up and meets Sam's identical look of shock. "Wait that's...that's something I usually say, right? That felt.." he doesn't know what it felt like. Right? Familiar?
Sam is beaming. "Dude! Yes, you say stuff like that all the time. I mean I would prefer if you didn't but that doesn't matter right now. I told you Dean, you're starting to remember!" And Dean is so happy for the kid he listens to him and lets go of his worries for now.
-----SAM'S POV-------
Sam gets the call at two in the morning. He had gotten back to the motel. The nice nurses had taking pity on both the Winchester boys and let Sam stay past and before visiting hours. But now Diane had put her foot down and ordered him to at least go home and take a shower, eat a real meal and sleep a few hours. Sam had hesitantly listened to her, not telling her that home right now is The blue cow motel and the real meal would be a salad from the gas station.
He has just been asleep for a few hours when something wakes him up. At first, he's so groggy that he stands up and goes to look for the remote control, convinced that the TV is making the noise. But then the melody sounds again and Sam realizes with dread that it's his phone. Immediately he knows that it's about Dean. Something's wrong. He throws himself at the phone and flings it open, almost breaking it in the process.
"What's wrong? Is it Dean, is he okay?"
" Sam? it's Diane. You need to come to the hospital right now." Dread blossoms deep inside his stomach. He grabs his jeans and tries to pull them on while still holding on to the phone.
"What happened?"
"Dean's rib, the broken one, it punctured his lung and they're gonna take him to surgery right now to get it inflated."
The fear makes him clumsy. He falls over his shoes in his haste. "I'll be right there." He hangs up the phone and runs to the impala in his socks.
By the time Sam arrives to the hospital the surgery is over and he quickly finds Dean's attending physician, Dr. Stevens.
Sam is slightly out of breath from running up all the stairs when he asks "How did it go, how is he?
"The procedure went well, because of the pnemothorax we had to insert a small chest tube in your brother's chest cavity."
"But what happened? He was fine when I left." Sam's angry. Mostly at himself for agreeing to leave his brother, but also at the hospital staff. This could've been avoided. Right?
"We were, as you know, monitoring him closely and he was okay when you left. But then alarms started going off in his room and when the nurses came to check on him he had pulled out his IV amongst other things in his sleep. He had been so restless that more pressure had been applied to his lung and it punctured." The doctor takes in Sam's look of horror and smiles reassuringly.
"Sam, you're brother's going to be ok. If he stays still during the nights and lets the chest tube do its thing, it'll heal nicely. We can restrain him to prevent furthe- Sam shakes his head. "That won't be necessary, doc, I'll be here to watch him."
Ten minutes later Sam gets to see Dean. Dr. Stevens had tried to prepare Sam. He had told him that Dean's wearing an oxygen mask and Sam'll be able to see the small tube producing from his chest. But it's still a chock to Sam to see how pale Dean is underneath that mask. Sam walks over on shaky legs and sits down on the chair besides Dean's bed. He takes Dean's hand. "Hey, big bro. I can't leave you for a couple of hours to get some sleep without you causing a fuss, huh?" He smiles fondly. He should let Dean sleep, he knows that. But he needs to hear his voice, or at least see his eyes, to know that he's really ok. That he's still there. "Dean" he singsongs "come on you big jerk, you're not gonna let me have this chick flick moment, are you?" Nothing. Not even a twitch of the slack fingers in Sam's own hand. He sighs, leans back in his chair. "Alright Dean, you take your time. I'll be right here."
Just as he's about to nod of, he hears it. It's low and very raspy. He almost misses it.
"Bitch." It's a beautiful sound.
Sam barks out a surprised laugh, sounds kinda like a sob, and regrets it immediately when Dean's brow furrows at the loud noise. Sam scoots forward, his big smile hurting his face. "Dean." he chokes out. He grips Dean's arm and watches as Dean blinks sleepily. "Dean." he says again, a little desperate.
When Dean answers him, it's with a small smile of his own. Sam can hear him loud and clear, despite of the mask.
"It's okay, Sammy. I remember now."