Still Alive But Barely Breathing Chapter 2c
Finally, the last bit to this chapter, gosh I hate the fact that lj says my posts are too large...the meanies...But anyway, here you go:
“Hey watch out for the frog dude, he’s my bestest buddy.” Dean was speaking over Sam, ignorant of the fact that his brother seemed to be about to smack him across the face. He looked up at Sam and saw his lips moving, and it took a moment but Dean finally began to understand what his brother was saying,
“-kill him, I’m going to fucking kill him and burn the body then bring him back and fucking kill him again-“ Dean grinned not understanding who Sam was wanting to kill. So poking his tongue out slightly from between his teeth, Dean beamed and said, “Can I help?”
SPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNL
“Can I help?”
Sam looked down and saw his brother’s face, happy and open and boyish and it dispelled his anger for a moment until he realised the worry that Dean had put him through and said,
“No you fucking can’t cos it’s you I’m gonna fucking kill!” He snarled and shoved Dean headfirst into the car. Slamming the door behind Dean’s feet, Sam marched around to the driver’s door and slammed that too for good measure. “Fucking sat at the side of the road in the middle of fucking nowhere-” He muttered ignoring the squawk Dean gave when the car jolted into motion. Sam pulled a u-turn with angry, jerky motions and when they were back onto the road leading to the Roadhouse he whipped his head to stare at Dean and growled, “What the fuck were you thinking? Where the fuck did you go for four hours!?”
“To a bar,” Dean replied sniggering at Sam’s angry expression.
“Yes I know you went to a bar you idiot but why the hell are you this drunk?! Jo said you two had an argument, s’that right?” Sam asked.
“Argument. Right. Fucking Jo and her fucking alcohol,” Dean said and levered himself up. “I don’t wanna go back to the Roadhouse, I wanna go back to my frog...he was nice to me...meanie...” Dean grumbled thumping his head against the window.
“Stop that Dean,” Sam growled and grabbed Dean’s shoulder and pulled him up and off the window. “We’re here now, so shut the fuck up and don’t vomit on anyone,”
“Duuuude why’d you have to mention vooomit?” Dean said rolling his head to look at Sam. Apparently Dean’s neck no longer worked because when Sam stopped the car- albeit with a little more force than necessary - Dean almost face-planted into the dash-board and only Sam’s swiftness caught him in time. “Get off me!” Dean growled shoving at Sam and oh dear, they’d finally progressed onto the angry stage. “Fucking get off me Sam, don’t put your monkey hands on me! I wanna go back to my frog!”
Now that was uncalled for - just because Sam was bigger than Dean didn’t mean he had monkey hands. So Sam watched half amused, half still ready to throttle Dean, as his brother opened the door and fell out, and didn’t offer to help him off the floor. It was only when Dean proceeded to drag himself up and stumble away from Sam and the Roadhouse towards the road again, that Sam levered himself out of the car and sprinted after him. He grabbed Dean’s arm and didn’t expect it when Dean’s flailing resulted in a hand being thwapped across his face. Pain blossomed and blood spilt down his cheek and Sam realised that Dean had moved onto the violent stage in a matter of minutes. Fucking asshole. So Sam dodged the flail that Dean aimed his way and used his brother’s momentum to pull him over his shoulder.
“Put me the FUCK down Sam,” Dean yelled, hands and fists jabbing at his back. “I meeean it, put me the fuck down or I’ll fucking beat your skinny ass!” Sam burst through the door the Roadhouse, sighing when he saw that Ellen and Jo had ignored his warning to go to bed and knew Dean was gonna be an asshole about it.
They looked shocked, comically so at the sight of him with Dean over his shoulder. Ellen’s face dropped and her mouth opened slightly in surprise as she took in the scene before her. And Jo flushed scarlet red as she saw the way Dean was apparently incapable of walking. They looked somewhat amused until Dean started swearing and they noticed Sam’s bleeding nose.
“Fucking put me down you fucking cunt! I’ll fucking murder you!” And Sam yelped as Dean jabbed him hard in the side.
“Ow, Jesus. Shut the fuck up Dean,” Sam replied ‘accidentally’ banging him into a chair in response to the side jab.
“You little shit!” Dean was still yelling, grabbing at his hair and pulling and as an elbow found its way to the back of Sam’s head so he dropped Dean unceremoniously onto the floor. “FUCKER!” Dean squawked again, before trying to pull himself up. After three attempts Dean finally managed to get upright and proceeded to shove Sam with as much force as he could muster.
Sam sighed.
“Dean I swear to god, fucking shove me one more time and I’m gonna-” The next shove came out of nowhere and pushed Sam onto his ass and too surprised to do anything but sit there Sam watched as Dean turned around and staggered for the door. Sam levered himself up quickly but he needn’t have worried as Dean practically face-planted onto the floor again.
“Fucking hell Dean!” He said grabbing his brother and pulling him into a nearby booth. He shoved at Dean who squinted at him and glared before falling asleep almost instantaneously.
“What the hell,” Ellen said. “What in god’s name was that?” She asked sitting down heavily with a thud.
“That,” Sam said pointing over his shoulder as he joined the two women by the bar, “Is out of his mind, angry as fuck, blind drunk Dean. Something you probably wished you’d never seen.”
“True,” Ellen said and then turned to her daughter, “What on earth did you say to get him this worked up?”
Jo startled, looking away from Dean and turned to face Ellen and Sam. She hesitated, Sam noticed before saying, “Stupid stuff, hunting stuff...”
“Right,” Ellen said somewhat unbelieving and raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve never seen him get this drunk before, not even when Dad died.” Sam said watching Jo’s reaction and when she flinched subtly he knew.
Dean liked Jo.
Jo liked Dean.
Dean thought he was going to die in a few weeks.
And kaboom, hello angry, drunk Dean.
Fuck.
“Shoulda seen him when he was still cheerful though. Abso-fucking-lutely hilarious. The things he gets up to when inebriated.”
Ellen smiled a little fondly and asked, “He gonna be alright?”
“Apart from a hangover from hell and the added strain on his ribs from me carrying him, I think he’ll be fine.” Sam said somewhat calmly - although the knowledge that he may have injured Dean further, when he had so little time left anyway made his gut clench painfully.
“I made him take a load of pain killers though and mixed with all that alcohol-” Jo trailed off worriedly and Sam whipped his head around to stare at her incredulously.
“What do you mean you made him take a load of pills? Why?!”
Jo blushed under Sam’s intense glare and mumbled, “We were...fooling around outside today; I was teasing him so he grabbed me and put me on his shoulder. Hurt his ribs so much that he couldn’t get up when we fell on the floor. He made me promise not to tell you but I think I have to let you know.”
“The bastard,” Sam muttered running a hand over his face. “He’ll have to throw it all back up. Have you got a bucket I could commandeer for the night, seeing as I’ll probably have to stay up with him and make sure he doesn’t drown in his own vomit?”
“Yeah Sam, I got one behind the bar,” Ellen said standing up to retrieve it. She returned just in time because Dean groaned, shuddering in his seat before shooting upright and turning green.
“Gonna. Sick. Vomit.” Dean said gagging before leaning forwards to grab at the bucket in Sam’s hand.
“Oh, ew,” Sam said holding the bucket up to Dean’s face and leaning away at the same time, “That’s nasty man,” But despite the smell and (ewww) sound Sam placed a hand on Dean’s back, rubbing soothingly through the spasms and gagging that jolted through Dean’s body. When he finished, Dean slumped back into the chair, face white, and Sam thought finally, finally he’s gonna sober up a little now and tell me what the fuck happened, but Dean just blinked up at him with big, wide eyes and said, somewhat endearingly “My head hurts Sammy,” Sam rolled his eyes mentally at the big, doe-eyed look Dean was giving him.
“Not gonna work Dean, you’re still in deep shit,” Sam replied, rubbing his back one last time before getting up to dispose of the bucket. When he returned Dean was grinning, tongue poking out from between his teeth, eyes twinkling at his attempt to escape the wrath of the sasquatch - as Dean would put it.
“But Saaaaammy,” He whined, “My head really does huuurt!” He pouted a little and sniffed. He was the picture of adorable and Sam was not falling for it. Jo and Ellen on the other hand, Sam wasn’t so sure about so he turned, groaning when he saw equal looks of ‘aw’ on their faces and said, “Don’t fall for it! He knows what he’s doing, don’t believe this cute act for a minute!”
And that alerted to Dean the presence of others in the room. He peered around Sam, who could tell the moment he saw Ellen stood behind him from the little squeak of glee he let out.
“Ellen!” He sing-songed, “When’d you get here?”
Sam rolled his eyes and Ellen snorted sitting down in front of Dean. “Been here the whole time hun,” She replied and Sam squinted his eyes at her in warning - don’t fall for it!
“Gimme that!” He squawked making grabby hands at the glass of water Ellen held and Sam watched as she passed him the water, smiling a little incredulously and glancing at Sam as if to say, is this real? How can he go from being angry to happy in the space of two minutes? And Sam replied with an eye roll as Dean gargled the water then spat it into the bucket. He repeated the action until he nearly choked and coughed, spluttering indignantly when Sam laughed and said, “Serves you right, asshole,”
“Hey,” Dean whined, pouting his lips some more “You’re the asshole, asshole. Took me away from my frog...” He muttered, folding his arms across his chest and slumping down in the booth.
“How’re you feeling Dean?” Ellen enquired, leaning across the table. Sam noticed somewhat amusedly that she leant back almost immediately when she caught the smell of vomit emanating from Dean.
“Tired,” Dean said truthfully and then yawned as if to prove his point.
“You better go to sleep then, hun,”
“M’kay,” Dean replied, blinking owlishly at her and snuffling.
And oh god, Dean was doing the adorable thing now. Jesus. Like that would distract Sam from kicking his ass when he woke up tomorrow. He was still angry at Dean, he’d been worried out of his mind when Jo had burst into his room all wide eyed and flushed saying that Dean had taken off a while ago and still wasn’t back yet. The fear that had shot through Sam had woken him immediately. Thoughts of hellhounds and the crossroad demon coming to collect early provoked Sam into leaping from his bed and into action. When he realised that Dean had just gone on a bender his worry had faded into anger. But it was hard to maintain when Dean was acting like a little kid hopped up on sugar.
Sam realised that he wouldn’t be getting any information out of his brother anytime soon tonight as he was snoring softly at his side, so he turned his attention onto Jo who was still stood across the bar, expression blank. She caught Sam’s gaze and flushed looking away from Dean, whose face was smushed into the table from where he had passed out.
“You need any help getting him into bed Sam?” Ellen asked
“No, I’ll be fine. I’ve carried his heavy ass around more than enough to be used to it now.” Sam replied with a quick smile. “Thanks for waiting up, I’ll see you tomorrow, today, rather,” He said looking at his watch. Dean had been gone, missing for over four and a half hours and Sam had been in a state of shock for the whole time and sleep sounded good right about now.
So with a sigh he stood up, gripped Dean’s shoulder and tugged him towards the edge of the booth. Apart from making more snuffling noises, Dean stayed unconscious, copious amounts of alcohol would do that to a guy. With a grunt, Sam levered Dean into his arms, rather than over his shoulder to avoid aggravating his ribs even more, and nodded at Jo and Ellen in goodnight.
He tipped Dean onto the bed, pulling his brother’s boots and jeans off before tugging the duvet over his prone form. And before his mind could go into a state of shock again, or start whirring with worry, Sam clambered into his own bed and went to sleep.
HUZZAH end of chapter 2, the next bit'll be along soon I hope. Hope you liked it, tell me what you think! *Grins sheepishly and hides*
Here's the next bit!!!
Slumdog Millionaire Movie
“Hey watch out for the frog dude, he’s my bestest buddy.” Dean was speaking over Sam, ignorant of the fact that his brother seemed to be about to smack him across the face. He looked up at Sam and saw his lips moving, and it took a moment but Dean finally began to understand what his brother was saying,
“-kill him, I’m going to fucking kill him and burn the body then bring him back and fucking kill him again-“ Dean grinned not understanding who Sam was wanting to kill. So poking his tongue out slightly from between his teeth, Dean beamed and said, “Can I help?”
SPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNL
“Can I help?”
Sam looked down and saw his brother’s face, happy and open and boyish and it dispelled his anger for a moment until he realised the worry that Dean had put him through and said,
“No you fucking can’t cos it’s you I’m gonna fucking kill!” He snarled and shoved Dean headfirst into the car. Slamming the door behind Dean’s feet, Sam marched around to the driver’s door and slammed that too for good measure. “Fucking sat at the side of the road in the middle of fucking nowhere-” He muttered ignoring the squawk Dean gave when the car jolted into motion. Sam pulled a u-turn with angry, jerky motions and when they were back onto the road leading to the Roadhouse he whipped his head to stare at Dean and growled, “What the fuck were you thinking? Where the fuck did you go for four hours!?”
“To a bar,” Dean replied sniggering at Sam’s angry expression.
“Yes I know you went to a bar you idiot but why the hell are you this drunk?! Jo said you two had an argument, s’that right?” Sam asked.
“Argument. Right. Fucking Jo and her fucking alcohol,” Dean said and levered himself up. “I don’t wanna go back to the Roadhouse, I wanna go back to my frog...he was nice to me...meanie...” Dean grumbled thumping his head against the window.
“Stop that Dean,” Sam growled and grabbed Dean’s shoulder and pulled him up and off the window. “We’re here now, so shut the fuck up and don’t vomit on anyone,”
“Duuuude why’d you have to mention vooomit?” Dean said rolling his head to look at Sam. Apparently Dean’s neck no longer worked because when Sam stopped the car- albeit with a little more force than necessary - Dean almost face-planted into the dash-board and only Sam’s swiftness caught him in time. “Get off me!” Dean growled shoving at Sam and oh dear, they’d finally progressed onto the angry stage. “Fucking get off me Sam, don’t put your monkey hands on me! I wanna go back to my frog!”
Now that was uncalled for - just because Sam was bigger than Dean didn’t mean he had monkey hands. So Sam watched half amused, half still ready to throttle Dean, as his brother opened the door and fell out, and didn’t offer to help him off the floor. It was only when Dean proceeded to drag himself up and stumble away from Sam and the Roadhouse towards the road again, that Sam levered himself out of the car and sprinted after him. He grabbed Dean’s arm and didn’t expect it when Dean’s flailing resulted in a hand being thwapped across his face. Pain blossomed and blood spilt down his cheek and Sam realised that Dean had moved onto the violent stage in a matter of minutes. Fucking asshole. So Sam dodged the flail that Dean aimed his way and used his brother’s momentum to pull him over his shoulder.
“Put me the FUCK down Sam,” Dean yelled, hands and fists jabbing at his back. “I meeean it, put me the fuck down or I’ll fucking beat your skinny ass!” Sam burst through the door the Roadhouse, sighing when he saw that Ellen and Jo had ignored his warning to go to bed and knew Dean was gonna be an asshole about it.
They looked shocked, comically so at the sight of him with Dean over his shoulder. Ellen’s face dropped and her mouth opened slightly in surprise as she took in the scene before her. And Jo flushed scarlet red as she saw the way Dean was apparently incapable of walking. They looked somewhat amused until Dean started swearing and they noticed Sam’s bleeding nose.
“Fucking put me down you fucking cunt! I’ll fucking murder you!” And Sam yelped as Dean jabbed him hard in the side.
“Ow, Jesus. Shut the fuck up Dean,” Sam replied ‘accidentally’ banging him into a chair in response to the side jab.
“You little shit!” Dean was still yelling, grabbing at his hair and pulling and as an elbow found its way to the back of Sam’s head so he dropped Dean unceremoniously onto the floor. “FUCKER!” Dean squawked again, before trying to pull himself up. After three attempts Dean finally managed to get upright and proceeded to shove Sam with as much force as he could muster.
Sam sighed.
“Dean I swear to god, fucking shove me one more time and I’m gonna-” The next shove came out of nowhere and pushed Sam onto his ass and too surprised to do anything but sit there Sam watched as Dean turned around and staggered for the door. Sam levered himself up quickly but he needn’t have worried as Dean practically face-planted onto the floor again.
“Fucking hell Dean!” He said grabbing his brother and pulling him into a nearby booth. He shoved at Dean who squinted at him and glared before falling asleep almost instantaneously.
“What the hell,” Ellen said. “What in god’s name was that?” She asked sitting down heavily with a thud.
“That,” Sam said pointing over his shoulder as he joined the two women by the bar, “Is out of his mind, angry as fuck, blind drunk Dean. Something you probably wished you’d never seen.”
“True,” Ellen said and then turned to her daughter, “What on earth did you say to get him this worked up?”
Jo startled, looking away from Dean and turned to face Ellen and Sam. She hesitated, Sam noticed before saying, “Stupid stuff, hunting stuff...”
“Right,” Ellen said somewhat unbelieving and raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve never seen him get this drunk before, not even when Dad died.” Sam said watching Jo’s reaction and when she flinched subtly he knew.
Dean liked Jo.
Jo liked Dean.
Dean thought he was going to die in a few weeks.
And kaboom, hello angry, drunk Dean.
Fuck.
“Shoulda seen him when he was still cheerful though. Abso-fucking-lutely hilarious. The things he gets up to when inebriated.”
Ellen smiled a little fondly and asked, “He gonna be alright?”
“Apart from a hangover from hell and the added strain on his ribs from me carrying him, I think he’ll be fine.” Sam said somewhat calmly - although the knowledge that he may have injured Dean further, when he had so little time left anyway made his gut clench painfully.
“I made him take a load of pain killers though and mixed with all that alcohol-” Jo trailed off worriedly and Sam whipped his head around to stare at her incredulously.
“What do you mean you made him take a load of pills? Why?!”
Jo blushed under Sam’s intense glare and mumbled, “We were...fooling around outside today; I was teasing him so he grabbed me and put me on his shoulder. Hurt his ribs so much that he couldn’t get up when we fell on the floor. He made me promise not to tell you but I think I have to let you know.”
“The bastard,” Sam muttered running a hand over his face. “He’ll have to throw it all back up. Have you got a bucket I could commandeer for the night, seeing as I’ll probably have to stay up with him and make sure he doesn’t drown in his own vomit?”
“Yeah Sam, I got one behind the bar,” Ellen said standing up to retrieve it. She returned just in time because Dean groaned, shuddering in his seat before shooting upright and turning green.
“Gonna. Sick. Vomit.” Dean said gagging before leaning forwards to grab at the bucket in Sam’s hand.
“Oh, ew,” Sam said holding the bucket up to Dean’s face and leaning away at the same time, “That’s nasty man,” But despite the smell and (ewww) sound Sam placed a hand on Dean’s back, rubbing soothingly through the spasms and gagging that jolted through Dean’s body. When he finished, Dean slumped back into the chair, face white, and Sam thought finally, finally he’s gonna sober up a little now and tell me what the fuck happened, but Dean just blinked up at him with big, wide eyes and said, somewhat endearingly “My head hurts Sammy,” Sam rolled his eyes mentally at the big, doe-eyed look Dean was giving him.
“Not gonna work Dean, you’re still in deep shit,” Sam replied, rubbing his back one last time before getting up to dispose of the bucket. When he returned Dean was grinning, tongue poking out from between his teeth, eyes twinkling at his attempt to escape the wrath of the sasquatch - as Dean would put it.
“But Saaaaammy,” He whined, “My head really does huuurt!” He pouted a little and sniffed. He was the picture of adorable and Sam was not falling for it. Jo and Ellen on the other hand, Sam wasn’t so sure about so he turned, groaning when he saw equal looks of ‘aw’ on their faces and said, “Don’t fall for it! He knows what he’s doing, don’t believe this cute act for a minute!”
And that alerted to Dean the presence of others in the room. He peered around Sam, who could tell the moment he saw Ellen stood behind him from the little squeak of glee he let out.
“Ellen!” He sing-songed, “When’d you get here?”
Sam rolled his eyes and Ellen snorted sitting down in front of Dean. “Been here the whole time hun,” She replied and Sam squinted his eyes at her in warning - don’t fall for it!
“Gimme that!” He squawked making grabby hands at the glass of water Ellen held and Sam watched as she passed him the water, smiling a little incredulously and glancing at Sam as if to say, is this real? How can he go from being angry to happy in the space of two minutes? And Sam replied with an eye roll as Dean gargled the water then spat it into the bucket. He repeated the action until he nearly choked and coughed, spluttering indignantly when Sam laughed and said, “Serves you right, asshole,”
“Hey,” Dean whined, pouting his lips some more “You’re the asshole, asshole. Took me away from my frog...” He muttered, folding his arms across his chest and slumping down in the booth.
“How’re you feeling Dean?” Ellen enquired, leaning across the table. Sam noticed somewhat amusedly that she leant back almost immediately when she caught the smell of vomit emanating from Dean.
“Tired,” Dean said truthfully and then yawned as if to prove his point.
“You better go to sleep then, hun,”
“M’kay,” Dean replied, blinking owlishly at her and snuffling.
And oh god, Dean was doing the adorable thing now. Jesus. Like that would distract Sam from kicking his ass when he woke up tomorrow. He was still angry at Dean, he’d been worried out of his mind when Jo had burst into his room all wide eyed and flushed saying that Dean had taken off a while ago and still wasn’t back yet. The fear that had shot through Sam had woken him immediately. Thoughts of hellhounds and the crossroad demon coming to collect early provoked Sam into leaping from his bed and into action. When he realised that Dean had just gone on a bender his worry had faded into anger. But it was hard to maintain when Dean was acting like a little kid hopped up on sugar.
Sam realised that he wouldn’t be getting any information out of his brother anytime soon tonight as he was snoring softly at his side, so he turned his attention onto Jo who was still stood across the bar, expression blank. She caught Sam’s gaze and flushed looking away from Dean, whose face was smushed into the table from where he had passed out.
“You need any help getting him into bed Sam?” Ellen asked
“No, I’ll be fine. I’ve carried his heavy ass around more than enough to be used to it now.” Sam replied with a quick smile. “Thanks for waiting up, I’ll see you tomorrow, today, rather,” He said looking at his watch. Dean had been gone, missing for over four and a half hours and Sam had been in a state of shock for the whole time and sleep sounded good right about now.
So with a sigh he stood up, gripped Dean’s shoulder and tugged him towards the edge of the booth. Apart from making more snuffling noises, Dean stayed unconscious, copious amounts of alcohol would do that to a guy. With a grunt, Sam levered Dean into his arms, rather than over his shoulder to avoid aggravating his ribs even more, and nodded at Jo and Ellen in goodnight.
He tipped Dean onto the bed, pulling his brother’s boots and jeans off before tugging the duvet over his prone form. And before his mind could go into a state of shock again, or start whirring with worry, Sam clambered into his own bed and went to sleep.
HUZZAH end of chapter 2, the next bit'll be along soon I hope. Hope you liked it, tell me what you think! *Grins sheepishly and hides*
Here's the next bit!!!
Slumdog Millionaire Movie