Fic-One Foot In Front of the Other-Chapter 8
Title: One Foot In Front of the Other
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Sam or Dean.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: SAM/DEAN!!!
Summary: Sam left but he had his reasons.
Warning: implied mpreg, and mild slashy themes.
Chapter Summ: Dean confuses Sam and then something happens that changes everything.
Previous parts: here
A/N: This chapter is unbeta'd. I know, I suck. But I was just dying to post it, couldn't wait! Please just ignore any mistakes. I tried to look over it as best I could. If my beta gets back to me and anything major needs to be changed, I'll repost it as *Revised!!*
A/N2: I changed Sam's job. I don't know why I had him working at a bank, makes no sense. Anyway, now, he's a legal secretary. Just some FYI.
A/N3: I know some people have been asking about John and I'd really like to somehow bring him into the story, but I have no idea how. Anyone have any ideas? Suggestions? Much appreciated.
Thanks to
thelonejuliet for holding my hand and awesome ideas! And to
loverstar for giving it the once over!
“So I pretty much thought Dad had sent me on a wild goose chase before I saw Mikey and that Dennis guy said he was yours.”
Sam listened intently while Dean told of how he had managed to find him.
It was Sam’s lunch break and they were sitting at the outdoor tables of the ice cream parlor down the road from the legal offices where Sam worked. Dean had called earlier in the day and charmed him into coming out on his break. Sam was surprised by the fact that he was having such a good time. Mostly, he had just forgotten how amusing it was to watch Dean eat ice cream. He was worse than Mikey.
Sam had to pry his eyes away from the chocolate syrup smeared in the corner of Dean’s mouth to follow the conversation.
“Does Dad know about Mikey?”
Dean shrugged and licked at some of his melting ice cream. “I don’t know. He’s on some hunt in Arkansas and I haven’t talked to him. I just wonder how he found you in the first place.” He glanced around at the old-fashioned downtown. “I mean, who would have thought you’d hide out here, ya know?”
Sam kept his eyes focused on his lap. “I wasn’t hiding, Dean.”
Dean was silent for a moment. “Yeah, you were. You were hiding from me.” He looked as though he instantly regretted it. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Sam met Dean’s eyes and then stared distantly down the road. In the chain of identical two-story buildings, he could just barely make out the old bookstore he frequented on his usual lunch hours. He sighed.
“No, Dean, it’s okay-”
Dean held up a hand to silence him. “It isn’t okay because we aren’t having this conversation right now. This is a happy outing. See- we have ice cream.” He gestured with his stub of a cone which was all that was left of the once heaping sundae. Dean stood and threw their used, sticky napkins in the trash bin.
“Now, come on. Your break is almost over.”
Sam stood but made no move to leave.
“Dean, we can’t just skirt around the issue. We ha-”
Dean’s full lips pressed firmly against his swallowed whatever he was going to say. Sam was aware of Dean’s hand at the nape of his neck, holding him in place and when he nipped softly at Sam’s bottom lip, begging entrance, Sam opened for him. Dean tasted like chocolate and cream and a sweet, unidentifiable flavor that was all him. Sam reveled in the familiarity of it. It was a short and sweet sort of kiss, not at all like the long, languid ones they used to share, but pleasant nonetheless. And the heat of Dean’s mouth pressed against his brought back all sorts of memories that had Sam’s mind reeling when Dean broke the kiss.
He stared wide-eyed at him and felt himself blush when he noticed that the syrup in the corner of Dean’s mouth had been completely licked away. Dean smiled tentatively and then began walking in the direction of the Sam’s building. Sam had to jog to keep up-dodging milling pedestrians on the sidewalk.
Dean had just kissed him. Just…kissed him- in spite of everything.
“Dean, you just-”
“I know, Sammy.” Dean kept walking at his break-neck pace.
Since it was the easiest thing to handle at the moment, Sam latched onto that.
“It’s Sam.” He had meant for the retort to sound snappish and sharp, but it came out spacey and confused and Dean grinned.
Why had Dean kissed him? Why did he enjoy it? And why could he still feel the warm pressure of Dean’s lips against his?
They couldn’t get back to the office fast enough. During the walk, Dean’s hand would casually brush against Sam’s, sending electric sparks up his arm and causing him to start from the sensation.
Dean silently walked him through the small empty lobby where Sam’s desk was tucked into a corner, conveniently out of the way. Sam’s boss, Joshua Taylor, was just placing a thick manila folder on his desk, when they walked in.
Joshua Taylor was a short man of a swarthy build. He had dark features with small brown eyes dwarfed by dark thick eyebrows. In the two years Sam had worked for him, he’d come to respect Taylor not only as a lawyer and a friend. Because of his no nonsense attitude at the office and his ability to dominate a courtroom, Taylor was considered the best in the county.
He offered Sam a wide smile when he spotted him. “Winchester, I need you to type these notes up for me and get them back ASAP. Our new client is really…” Suddenly, he trailed off and frowned.
Sam glanced over his shoulder to follow Taylor’s gaze in the direction of the front door. In was walking a tall man with thinning, stringy brown hair, and dull brown eyes. His rail thin build was hidden under a stained oversized jacket. It would appear that he was staring intently at Sam, but Sam could see that he was actually gazing just over his shoulder at Josh Taylor. Dean stepped closer to him and squinted at the man in assessment.
The man stepped closer to them and Sam noticed his eyes were glazed over as he sneered in the general direction of their group of three.
“Remember me, Mr. Taylor?” His voice was low and gravelly. That and his yellowed teeth told Sam he had been smoking for decades. “You ruined my life, Taylor, and now I’m gonna ruin yours.”
“Wha?-” Taylor began.
Seemingly out of thin air, the man now brandished a gun. Sam blinked at the shining silver and realized it was pointed directly at him. The guy obviously didn’t realize he would be a rather large road block in the bullet’s path to Taylor. He froze and stared into the barrel with unblinking eyes.
How had the day come to this? When did his warm, sun-kissed noon exertion with Dean turn into the day he stared down a gun at work? This couldn’t be happening; Mikey needed him? He couldn’t die at work!
He felt Dean give a slightest shift beside him, and that reminder of his presence was enough to help Sam take deep breaths to tame the hysteria threatening to bubble up through the surface. Without having to look, Sam knew Dean’s body was poised- muscles tense, back hunched. Dean has a plan.
Sam felt a hard shove from his right about the same time he heard the ear-bursting crack of the gun being fired. He jerked at the sound as he fell sideways, his forehead slamming into one of the sharp edges of his desk. Sam heard a low, familiar grunt before everything faded to black.
oOo
Sam awoke to a paramedic shining a penlight into his eyes. He squinted against that and the pounding in his head.
“Mr. Winchester,” the paramedic questioned and he nodded.
Sam sat up slowly and ignored the rolling in the stomach and the paramedic when she informed him he would be fine. He already knew that.
“I-I didn’t mean to! He got in my way! Please! You have to believe me!” Sam turned in time to see the mysterious man cry out as he was dragged out of the building in handcuffs.
Sam frowned and gazed hazily around the room. Who was that man talking about? Sam knew something had happened. He remembered the glint of the gun and being pushed before the gun went off- bullet meant for his boss. His lazy brain barely registered it when he spotted Josh Taylor speaking quietly with a police officer. It was only when his eyes fell upon the alarmingly large pool of blood a few feet from him that clearly wasn’t his or Taylor’s that his eyes flew open wide.
“Dean!” Sam struggled to his feet, ignoring the dizziness that washed over him. The paramedic called out his name, confused by his distress. He shrugged her off and staggered out of the front door.
He stumbled outside in time to see another paramedic readying a stretcher to be loaded into a waiting ambulance on the street. Sam’s heart pounded as he rushed over to them.
“Dean,” he cried out at the sight that met him.
Dean was deathly pale where he lay limply on the stretcher. The entire right side of his green tee shirt was soaked with blood which seemed to have originated from his shoulder.
One of the EMTs waved him into the ambulance before all four of them were closed into the cramped space. One of the medics was applying pressure to the mess at Dean’s shoulder while the other kept track of his blood pressure and heart rate. Sam sat silently by Dean’s head and gripped the hand of his good arm tightly.
About halfway to the county hospital, Dean gave a low moan and his pain-clouded eyes fluttered open to focus on Sam’s face,
“Dean,” Sam exclaimed. ‘Dean, don’t worry about anything, okay? You’re going to be fine, you hear me?”
Dean stared long into Sam’s eyes, offering him a weak smile before he grimaced and lost consciousness again.
A paramedic grunted as he applied more pressure to the wound. “Damnit, he’s losing too much blood.”
Sam bit his lip and his breath hitched when he looked back at Dean’s ashen, blank face.
Dean had to be okay; he just had to be.
oOo
Sam sat in the semi-crowded waiting room, staring at the fading tile floor. His hands dangled between his legs and his knees bounced nervously. Beside him, an elderly couple held hands and whispered prayers amongst themselves. He blocked them out as his mind wanders.
The past few hours had been hell. After arriving, Dean had been wheeled into surgery where they worked to stabilize him, remove the bullet, and repair the damage inflicted. During that time, Sam was left to worry and to think.
His mind kept finding its way back to the kiss. It had left Sam confused and uneasy. Dean had told Sam before that he still loved him, but Sam hadn’t believed him. He realized how ridiculous that was now. Dean would always care about him and try to protect Sam, no matter what. The man had just thrown himself at a bullet aimed at Sam. If that didn’t spell out love, what did?
Ice cold tendrils of guilt ate away at his heart. He shouldn’t have doubted Dean. He should have trusted-
A light touch on his shoulder pulled Sam from his thoughts. He glanced up to find Dennis looming over him, outstretched hand offering him coffee. He took it wordlessly and Dennis plopped down in the cushioned chair beside him.
“How ya holding up?”
“M’fine,” Sam mumbled before taking a huge gulp of the steaming brew, hoping it would quell the throbbing in his head and the burning in his eyes.
Dennis scoffed. “Yeah, right.” Upon Sam’s glare, he switched topics. “I just heard that the guy that shot Dean was someone Taylor defended a few years back. They didn’t win the case, so he came looking for revenge after his time was up.”
Drawing no reaction from Sam, he tried a new tactic. “I called Mikey’s school and told them I’d be picking him up. I can take him to my house for a few hours, but I’ve got a flight to catch at six. Uh, unless you need me to cancel,” he suggested. Receiving no reply, Dennis waved his hand in front of Sam’s distance eyes. “Sam?”
Snapping back to attention, Sam replied, “Um, no. Thanks, but I’ll pick him up.” He picked at the edges of his coffee cup, needing something to do with his hands. “I wish they would hurry.”
Dennis smiled softly. “Sam, Dean’s going to be fine, and when he is, I just hope that you’ll finally pull your head out of your ass and tell him how you really feel.”
Before Sam could respond, a tall, distinguished looking doctor approached him. Sam’s eyes widened at the bright red flecks on dull green hospital scrubs. His grip on the arms of his chair turned white-knuckled.
“Family of Dean Winchester?” Sam nodded mutely and swallowed the fear when the flecks of blood drew closer.
The doctor face split into a reassuring smile that did nothing to calm Sam’s racing heart.
“Dean pulled through beautifully. We were able to remove the bullet and there was surprisingly limited damage to surrounding tissue. We stitched him up and he’s now being transferred to his room. You can go in and see him as soon as he’s settled but the pain medication will have him out until tomorrow. And even then, he’ll be weak from the blood loss.”
Sam sagged against his chair, taking deep gulping breaths as he wrapped his mind around the fact that Dean would be fine. Dennis squeezed his hand and through the fog, Sam managed to thank the doctor.
Eventually, Sam was led to Dean’s room. He swallowed against the lump lodged in his throat. Dean’s face was pasty, his eyes were closed, deep smears under each socket. Thick eyelashes fanned across white cheeks. Sam kept his eyes riveted on Dean’s face, refusing to acknowledge the heavy white bandages that swathed his shoulder and drew a chair to the side of the bed, gripping Dean’s limp hand.
He tried not to think of the time when Dean’s heart was failing and he was at death’s door, but couldn’t help it. That time, it hadn’t been Sam’s fault. It was just a hunting accident. However, this time, Sam couldn’t help but feel responsible.
Dennis had told Sam to tell Dean the truth about his feelings and he would. The truth was that he still loved Dean. No, it was more than that. He was still in love with Dean. And he was sick and tired of second guessing them both.
oOo
When the call came that Dean was awake, Sam was just getting Mikey dressed for school. He had to concentrate hard on only driving the speed limit when he hurriedly dropped Mikey off and headed to the hospital. Skidding to a halt at Dean’s open door, a relieved smile split his face as he looked inside.
Dean was propped up in his bed, contemplating a tray of hospital food. He still looked a little groggy and much too pale, but it was a huge improvement from yesterday. And he smiled openly when Sam entered.
“How you doing, Sammy?”
Shaking his head incredulously, he pulled up a chair. “How am I doing? You’re the one in a hospital bed, Dean. What does that tell you?”
“Me?” Dean waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Never better.”
“They must be pumping you with something special.”
Dean actually let out a little giggle, obviously giddy from the medication. “Yeah, maybe.”
They stared at each other for a moment, making sure the other was really okay.
“Gosh, Dean, why’d you do that?”
Dean shook his head and glanced out of the window where bright morning light flooded the room. “Don’t ask me that, Sam.” He turned back to face him. “You know I’d do it again.”
Suddenly, Sam’s chest swelled and his eyes filled. Before he knew he was going to do it, he leaned down and his lips lightly brushed against Dean’s. Dean reacted immediately, as if he had had expected it, cupping the back of Sam’s neck as he deepened the kiss. Sam sighed as he opened willingly for Dean, allowing his tongue to flick across his own.
When they finally came apart, Dean used his hand on the back of Sam’s neck to hold the other man close. They panted together, Sam’s forehead resting against Dean’s.
“Tell me you’re not going to regret this later.”
Sam lifted his head to look Dean in the eye. “I love you, Dean. You don’t know how scared I was yesterday.”
“’Bout damn time you started appreciating me.” The corners of Dean’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. “It took you long enough.”
“I know,” Sam murmured before their lips met again.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Sam or Dean.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: SAM/DEAN!!!
Summary: Sam left but he had his reasons.
Warning: implied mpreg, and mild slashy themes.
Chapter Summ: Dean confuses Sam and then something happens that changes everything.
Previous parts: here
A/N: This chapter is unbeta'd. I know, I suck. But I was just dying to post it, couldn't wait! Please just ignore any mistakes. I tried to look over it as best I could. If my beta gets back to me and anything major needs to be changed, I'll repost it as *Revised!!*
A/N2: I changed Sam's job. I don't know why I had him working at a bank, makes no sense. Anyway, now, he's a legal secretary. Just some FYI.
A/N3: I know some people have been asking about John and I'd really like to somehow bring him into the story, but I have no idea how. Anyone have any ideas? Suggestions? Much appreciated.
Thanks to
thelonejuliet for holding my hand and awesome ideas! And to
loverstar for giving it the once over!
“So I pretty much thought Dad had sent me on a wild goose chase before I saw Mikey and that Dennis guy said he was yours.”
Sam listened intently while Dean told of how he had managed to find him.
It was Sam’s lunch break and they were sitting at the outdoor tables of the ice cream parlor down the road from the legal offices where Sam worked. Dean had called earlier in the day and charmed him into coming out on his break. Sam was surprised by the fact that he was having such a good time. Mostly, he had just forgotten how amusing it was to watch Dean eat ice cream. He was worse than Mikey.
Sam had to pry his eyes away from the chocolate syrup smeared in the corner of Dean’s mouth to follow the conversation.
“Does Dad know about Mikey?”
Dean shrugged and licked at some of his melting ice cream. “I don’t know. He’s on some hunt in Arkansas and I haven’t talked to him. I just wonder how he found you in the first place.” He glanced around at the old-fashioned downtown. “I mean, who would have thought you’d hide out here, ya know?”
Sam kept his eyes focused on his lap. “I wasn’t hiding, Dean.”
Dean was silent for a moment. “Yeah, you were. You were hiding from me.” He looked as though he instantly regretted it. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Sam met Dean’s eyes and then stared distantly down the road. In the chain of identical two-story buildings, he could just barely make out the old bookstore he frequented on his usual lunch hours. He sighed.
“No, Dean, it’s okay-”
Dean held up a hand to silence him. “It isn’t okay because we aren’t having this conversation right now. This is a happy outing. See- we have ice cream.” He gestured with his stub of a cone which was all that was left of the once heaping sundae. Dean stood and threw their used, sticky napkins in the trash bin.
“Now, come on. Your break is almost over.”
Sam stood but made no move to leave.
“Dean, we can’t just skirt around the issue. We ha-”
Dean’s full lips pressed firmly against his swallowed whatever he was going to say. Sam was aware of Dean’s hand at the nape of his neck, holding him in place and when he nipped softly at Sam’s bottom lip, begging entrance, Sam opened for him. Dean tasted like chocolate and cream and a sweet, unidentifiable flavor that was all him. Sam reveled in the familiarity of it. It was a short and sweet sort of kiss, not at all like the long, languid ones they used to share, but pleasant nonetheless. And the heat of Dean’s mouth pressed against his brought back all sorts of memories that had Sam’s mind reeling when Dean broke the kiss.
He stared wide-eyed at him and felt himself blush when he noticed that the syrup in the corner of Dean’s mouth had been completely licked away. Dean smiled tentatively and then began walking in the direction of the Sam’s building. Sam had to jog to keep up-dodging milling pedestrians on the sidewalk.
Dean had just kissed him. Just…kissed him- in spite of everything.
“Dean, you just-”
“I know, Sammy.” Dean kept walking at his break-neck pace.
Since it was the easiest thing to handle at the moment, Sam latched onto that.
“It’s Sam.” He had meant for the retort to sound snappish and sharp, but it came out spacey and confused and Dean grinned.
Why had Dean kissed him? Why did he enjoy it? And why could he still feel the warm pressure of Dean’s lips against his?
They couldn’t get back to the office fast enough. During the walk, Dean’s hand would casually brush against Sam’s, sending electric sparks up his arm and causing him to start from the sensation.
Dean silently walked him through the small empty lobby where Sam’s desk was tucked into a corner, conveniently out of the way. Sam’s boss, Joshua Taylor, was just placing a thick manila folder on his desk, when they walked in.
Joshua Taylor was a short man of a swarthy build. He had dark features with small brown eyes dwarfed by dark thick eyebrows. In the two years Sam had worked for him, he’d come to respect Taylor not only as a lawyer and a friend. Because of his no nonsense attitude at the office and his ability to dominate a courtroom, Taylor was considered the best in the county.
He offered Sam a wide smile when he spotted him. “Winchester, I need you to type these notes up for me and get them back ASAP. Our new client is really…” Suddenly, he trailed off and frowned.
Sam glanced over his shoulder to follow Taylor’s gaze in the direction of the front door. In was walking a tall man with thinning, stringy brown hair, and dull brown eyes. His rail thin build was hidden under a stained oversized jacket. It would appear that he was staring intently at Sam, but Sam could see that he was actually gazing just over his shoulder at Josh Taylor. Dean stepped closer to him and squinted at the man in assessment.
The man stepped closer to them and Sam noticed his eyes were glazed over as he sneered in the general direction of their group of three.
“Remember me, Mr. Taylor?” His voice was low and gravelly. That and his yellowed teeth told Sam he had been smoking for decades. “You ruined my life, Taylor, and now I’m gonna ruin yours.”
“Wha?-” Taylor began.
Seemingly out of thin air, the man now brandished a gun. Sam blinked at the shining silver and realized it was pointed directly at him. The guy obviously didn’t realize he would be a rather large road block in the bullet’s path to Taylor. He froze and stared into the barrel with unblinking eyes.
How had the day come to this? When did his warm, sun-kissed noon exertion with Dean turn into the day he stared down a gun at work? This couldn’t be happening; Mikey needed him? He couldn’t die at work!
He felt Dean give a slightest shift beside him, and that reminder of his presence was enough to help Sam take deep breaths to tame the hysteria threatening to bubble up through the surface. Without having to look, Sam knew Dean’s body was poised- muscles tense, back hunched. Dean has a plan.
Sam felt a hard shove from his right about the same time he heard the ear-bursting crack of the gun being fired. He jerked at the sound as he fell sideways, his forehead slamming into one of the sharp edges of his desk. Sam heard a low, familiar grunt before everything faded to black.
oOo
Sam awoke to a paramedic shining a penlight into his eyes. He squinted against that and the pounding in his head.
“Mr. Winchester,” the paramedic questioned and he nodded.
Sam sat up slowly and ignored the rolling in the stomach and the paramedic when she informed him he would be fine. He already knew that.
“I-I didn’t mean to! He got in my way! Please! You have to believe me!” Sam turned in time to see the mysterious man cry out as he was dragged out of the building in handcuffs.
Sam frowned and gazed hazily around the room. Who was that man talking about? Sam knew something had happened. He remembered the glint of the gun and being pushed before the gun went off- bullet meant for his boss. His lazy brain barely registered it when he spotted Josh Taylor speaking quietly with a police officer. It was only when his eyes fell upon the alarmingly large pool of blood a few feet from him that clearly wasn’t his or Taylor’s that his eyes flew open wide.
“Dean!” Sam struggled to his feet, ignoring the dizziness that washed over him. The paramedic called out his name, confused by his distress. He shrugged her off and staggered out of the front door.
He stumbled outside in time to see another paramedic readying a stretcher to be loaded into a waiting ambulance on the street. Sam’s heart pounded as he rushed over to them.
“Dean,” he cried out at the sight that met him.
Dean was deathly pale where he lay limply on the stretcher. The entire right side of his green tee shirt was soaked with blood which seemed to have originated from his shoulder.
One of the EMTs waved him into the ambulance before all four of them were closed into the cramped space. One of the medics was applying pressure to the mess at Dean’s shoulder while the other kept track of his blood pressure and heart rate. Sam sat silently by Dean’s head and gripped the hand of his good arm tightly.
About halfway to the county hospital, Dean gave a low moan and his pain-clouded eyes fluttered open to focus on Sam’s face,
“Dean,” Sam exclaimed. ‘Dean, don’t worry about anything, okay? You’re going to be fine, you hear me?”
Dean stared long into Sam’s eyes, offering him a weak smile before he grimaced and lost consciousness again.
A paramedic grunted as he applied more pressure to the wound. “Damnit, he’s losing too much blood.”
Sam bit his lip and his breath hitched when he looked back at Dean’s ashen, blank face.
Dean had to be okay; he just had to be.
oOo
Sam sat in the semi-crowded waiting room, staring at the fading tile floor. His hands dangled between his legs and his knees bounced nervously. Beside him, an elderly couple held hands and whispered prayers amongst themselves. He blocked them out as his mind wanders.
The past few hours had been hell. After arriving, Dean had been wheeled into surgery where they worked to stabilize him, remove the bullet, and repair the damage inflicted. During that time, Sam was left to worry and to think.
His mind kept finding its way back to the kiss. It had left Sam confused and uneasy. Dean had told Sam before that he still loved him, but Sam hadn’t believed him. He realized how ridiculous that was now. Dean would always care about him and try to protect Sam, no matter what. The man had just thrown himself at a bullet aimed at Sam. If that didn’t spell out love, what did?
Ice cold tendrils of guilt ate away at his heart. He shouldn’t have doubted Dean. He should have trusted-
A light touch on his shoulder pulled Sam from his thoughts. He glanced up to find Dennis looming over him, outstretched hand offering him coffee. He took it wordlessly and Dennis plopped down in the cushioned chair beside him.
“How ya holding up?”
“M’fine,” Sam mumbled before taking a huge gulp of the steaming brew, hoping it would quell the throbbing in his head and the burning in his eyes.
Dennis scoffed. “Yeah, right.” Upon Sam’s glare, he switched topics. “I just heard that the guy that shot Dean was someone Taylor defended a few years back. They didn’t win the case, so he came looking for revenge after his time was up.”
Drawing no reaction from Sam, he tried a new tactic. “I called Mikey’s school and told them I’d be picking him up. I can take him to my house for a few hours, but I’ve got a flight to catch at six. Uh, unless you need me to cancel,” he suggested. Receiving no reply, Dennis waved his hand in front of Sam’s distance eyes. “Sam?”
Snapping back to attention, Sam replied, “Um, no. Thanks, but I’ll pick him up.” He picked at the edges of his coffee cup, needing something to do with his hands. “I wish they would hurry.”
Dennis smiled softly. “Sam, Dean’s going to be fine, and when he is, I just hope that you’ll finally pull your head out of your ass and tell him how you really feel.”
Before Sam could respond, a tall, distinguished looking doctor approached him. Sam’s eyes widened at the bright red flecks on dull green hospital scrubs. His grip on the arms of his chair turned white-knuckled.
“Family of Dean Winchester?” Sam nodded mutely and swallowed the fear when the flecks of blood drew closer.
The doctor face split into a reassuring smile that did nothing to calm Sam’s racing heart.
“Dean pulled through beautifully. We were able to remove the bullet and there was surprisingly limited damage to surrounding tissue. We stitched him up and he’s now being transferred to his room. You can go in and see him as soon as he’s settled but the pain medication will have him out until tomorrow. And even then, he’ll be weak from the blood loss.”
Sam sagged against his chair, taking deep gulping breaths as he wrapped his mind around the fact that Dean would be fine. Dennis squeezed his hand and through the fog, Sam managed to thank the doctor.
Eventually, Sam was led to Dean’s room. He swallowed against the lump lodged in his throat. Dean’s face was pasty, his eyes were closed, deep smears under each socket. Thick eyelashes fanned across white cheeks. Sam kept his eyes riveted on Dean’s face, refusing to acknowledge the heavy white bandages that swathed his shoulder and drew a chair to the side of the bed, gripping Dean’s limp hand.
He tried not to think of the time when Dean’s heart was failing and he was at death’s door, but couldn’t help it. That time, it hadn’t been Sam’s fault. It was just a hunting accident. However, this time, Sam couldn’t help but feel responsible.
Dennis had told Sam to tell Dean the truth about his feelings and he would. The truth was that he still loved Dean. No, it was more than that. He was still in love with Dean. And he was sick and tired of second guessing them both.
oOo
When the call came that Dean was awake, Sam was just getting Mikey dressed for school. He had to concentrate hard on only driving the speed limit when he hurriedly dropped Mikey off and headed to the hospital. Skidding to a halt at Dean’s open door, a relieved smile split his face as he looked inside.
Dean was propped up in his bed, contemplating a tray of hospital food. He still looked a little groggy and much too pale, but it was a huge improvement from yesterday. And he smiled openly when Sam entered.
“How you doing, Sammy?”
Shaking his head incredulously, he pulled up a chair. “How am I doing? You’re the one in a hospital bed, Dean. What does that tell you?”
“Me?” Dean waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Never better.”
“They must be pumping you with something special.”
Dean actually let out a little giggle, obviously giddy from the medication. “Yeah, maybe.”
They stared at each other for a moment, making sure the other was really okay.
“Gosh, Dean, why’d you do that?”
Dean shook his head and glanced out of the window where bright morning light flooded the room. “Don’t ask me that, Sam.” He turned back to face him. “You know I’d do it again.”
Suddenly, Sam’s chest swelled and his eyes filled. Before he knew he was going to do it, he leaned down and his lips lightly brushed against Dean’s. Dean reacted immediately, as if he had had expected it, cupping the back of Sam’s neck as he deepened the kiss. Sam sighed as he opened willingly for Dean, allowing his tongue to flick across his own.
When they finally came apart, Dean used his hand on the back of Sam’s neck to hold the other man close. They panted together, Sam’s forehead resting against Dean’s.
“Tell me you’re not going to regret this later.”
Sam lifted his head to look Dean in the eye. “I love you, Dean. You don’t know how scared I was yesterday.”
“’Bout damn time you started appreciating me.” The corners of Dean’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. “It took you long enough.”
“I know,” Sam murmured before their lips met again.