With Eyes Wide Shut, a Supernatural Fic
Title: With Eyes Wide Shut
Author: LaueHime
Rating: PG
Genre/pairing: H/C, Family, Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word count: 2,616
Warnings: Spoilers for episode 9x19 and season nine in general.
Summary: Tag to 9x19. Dean is focused on power and destruction. Too bad he forgot to make sure his brother wasn’t still bleeding. And of course Sam wouldn’t say a thing either, all things considered.
Disclaimer: The show belongs to Kripke.
A/N: So it seems like it’s a common recurrence that the show leaves me on my appetite on the hurt/comfort dish. How come Sam is bleeding out one second and fine the next? Well I got that fixed for you if you were as sad as me to not see it in the episode! Feedback is love too. I hope you’ll enjoy this!
SNSN
The road was deserted and the sky was gray. They’d been out of town and far into the secluded forest where the vampire nest had been. As they had clearly put it for Jody, this had been a cleaning mission, not a rescue. Well, luckily for Alex - or Annie or whatever the hell her name was - she hadn’t had time to feed and that left her a chance at remission. As Dean had said, it would be a rough couple of days, but God bless the antidote, she would be okay. Jody would make sure of that.
It was a good thing Jody was still alive too. Hadn’t it been for Alex and the bond she seemed to have forged with the female sheriff, there would be no more Jody Mills to worry about. That left behind a job well done and two retreating Winchesters.
Dean focused on the pavement that was quickly swallowed under the front of his classic car. His baby. Driving her had always been a comfort for the eldest and Dean relished in the fact that it gave him something else to focus on.
Sam’s words still echoed in his mind. So what if he was enjoying all the killing? Wasn’t that the point of ganking monsters? What fun would it be if he couldn’t even savor his victories? Still, the look his younger brother had given him haunted his memories. Sam had had that look too often lately. Actually, he could still recall the first time he had seen that specific look. Sam had looked at him like that ever since he’d killed Magnus. That was the first time he’d held the blade as well.
Dean would surely deny it if Sam ever asked, but the blade had changed something in him. The surge of power that had filled him on that day left him craving in a way that no booze or blood could satiate. The only thing that was left in him was instinct. His instinct was primitive and almost bestial. The good thing was that he didn’t spend so much time pondering anymore. Yet, there was something in all of this that Sam didn’t seem to enjoy. His brother had this way of looking at him… as if Dean was a ticking time bomb. Sam was obviously worried about him and Dean couldn’t fathom the reasons why.
He didn’t even turn to see his brother because he was sure that he would see that look again. Sam would look at him with, in his eyes, a mixture of pity and sadness. Frankly, Dean hated to be looked at this way. That’s why he didn’t look at Sam.
Maybe he should’ve. He would have seen the pallor his brother’s face seemed to be running a contest with. He would’ve seen the shivers and the cold sweat too. But Dean didn’t look, too caught up with his own self preservation to even begin to recall what had happened back at the cabin.
Actually, he was thinking of what had happened. Only, the images that were on replay in Dean’s mind weren’t exactly the same as those Sam sported in his own. Dean kept replaying his stoic kill and the way that vampire had avoided his look from fear. That’s the look he liked to see in other people’s eyes. It had nothing to do with pity or concern and it made him feel special… powerful, even. When he’d said ‘look at me, bitch’ and noticed the submission in his opponent, he’d felt like a real alpha. Dean had never been looked at with so much fear and he was only starting to grasp just how much he liked it. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe he was totally enjoying the killing. It made him feel strong. That was a feeling he had forgotten how to wear for a long time, while lately he’d been drowning in despair and hopelessness.
At some point, the silence grew heavy. Even if he wasn’t too happy with his brother, he still felt uncomfortable when they were sitting in the car like two complete strangers. After all they had been through together, it still didn’t feel right to play as nothing more than partners, but it’s what Sam wanted. Dean had gotten over the fact that Sam would most likely not forgive him and he had come to accept it. Still, in his book, partners were allowed to talk once in a while.
“So” Dean started, matter-of-factly. He didn’t miss the slight flinch in his brother’s shoulders. “Everything good with you?” he continued.
For the first time, he listened to his brother. He really listened. It always amazed him how Sam could convey so much without formulating anything. But Dean could hear it clearly; the rapid breathing, the sluggish deglutition and the incessant shifting. Sam was uncomfortable, that was one thing he knew for sure. Something else he could reckon clearly was the fact that something wasn’t right.
“Sam? What’s up?” he asked, finally turning to take a look at his quiet - too quiet - brother. His face fell into his shins because yeah, if he had taken a look at his brother an hour ago, he would’ve seen the pallor and the sweat. He hadn’t and he felt his heart constrict in guilt.
“Fuck” Dean choked out as he stomped on the brakes and pulled the car to the side of the road. He needed to take a look at Sam because he had neglected to do that. What a wonderful brother he was.
Sam didn’t even try to hide it. At that point, it’s not like he was into it nearly enough to do anything about himself. Dean could tell that his little brother had tried to put pressure on his own wounds, but his strength had finally failed him. His brother’s bluish fingers were lax around the wounds and blood had seeped through both sleeves to the point of drenching the material completely.
That’s when it hit Dean like a ton of bricks in the back of the head. While he’d been knocked out, his brother had been bled like a pig sent to the slaughterhouse. Only then did it occur to him to remember the way Sam was hardly coherent after he’d pulled the drains out of his veins. Only then did he remember the way Sam had to lean on him only to remain upright. They had bandaged the wounds quickly and Dean had really fooled himself into thinking that his brother had been out of the woods.
Apparently Sam had forgotten to mention that he was still bleeding. The way he had tried to hold his own wounds away from Dean only testified of a truth the eldest wasn’t willing to endure. Sam had kept his mouth shut on purpose. And now his mouth was ajar, the breath coming out shallow while his lips turned on a bluer shade of blue. The skin that had once been yellowish from pallor had now turned to gray; gray like the sky outside. Dean stared as it started to rain and it made him want to cry.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he breathed out, gripping the bleeding arms to examine them closely. Sam’s eyes fluttered open, but recognition failed to light the dull hazels. Dean shoved his coat off his shoulders and wrapped it tightly around his brother’s arms. Sam’s head was lolling on his neck. Dean looked up into tired eyes and pleaded them silently. If words couldn’t reach his brother where he was, maybe his fear would.
Sam blinked sluggishly at his brother. For a second, Dean thought he saw something cross his brother’s look. It was dark like a veil; a black curtain that closed between his brother and himself. Quickly, he moved his bloodied palms to cup his brother’s cheeks.
“Hey, Sammy. Stay with me, alright. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been a horrible brother to you. I’ve failed you, Sammy, and I’m sorry. But please let me make this right. Please don’t give up on me now” Dean begged as he could clearly feel the shivers in his brother’s body. Quickly, he turned on the heaters to their optimal capacity. His eyes went back to search for Sam’s. When they met, something happened. It was so slight, Dean could’ve mistaken it for something that he wanted to see. Maybe it was just wishful thinking after all. But something inside him felt as if he’d been given a green light and he wasn’t about to waste it.
“Hang in there, Sam. You’re gonna be okay” Dean assured, already gunning the engine back to life. Its purring came to Sam like a lullaby. His lids were so heavy and everything was just waltzing softly in his line of vision; a slow sway that lolled him to sleep. The darkness was inviting, but something at the back of his head kept him going. That something sounded a hell of a lot like his brother telling him to hold on.
Dean had his cell stuck between his ear and his shoulder so that he could keep a hand on the wheel and the other one on Sam’s wrist to keep track of his brother’s condition. What he could feel didn’t please him and that’s why he lost no time in calling for help. At least if they expected them, help would be ready once they reached the hospital. At that point, Sam couldn’t afford to lose any time.
“Yeah he’s lost a lot of blood” Dean explained to the emergency reference he’d come in contact with. He’d have to figure out a cover story as well, but he had ideas already. It didn’t matter too much either for the time being; reaching his destination sounding like a higher priority.
“Well, he’s not exactly conscious. I think that has to do with the fact that he’s bleeding out!” Dean growled into his cell phone. It earned him a groan from his brother and his head instantly snapped towards Sam. All he got was a flutter of eyelashes and snippets of hazel. On the other side of the phone, the lady was trying to get him to calm down. Yeah, like that was going to happen.
“You keep fighting, right Sam? We’re almost there” Dean directed at his brother without a care for his other interlocutor. She got his attention back nevertheless when she started asking about vitals.
“Uh his pulse… it’s fast” he determined while feeling his brother’s wrist. He didn’t have to think too long when she asked if it was strong or weak.
“It’s weak” he stated matter-of-factly. He wasn’t a doctor, but he knew enough about shock to know that his brother was in the late stages.
“His breathing? It’s fast but not deep”
He turned his head to the side, long enough to watch the rapid rise and fall of his brother’s chest. He could tell Sam was struggling and he didn’t like it one bit.
“Yeah, well I’m bringing him in as fast as I can! And no I don’t want a helicopter! I’ll be there in five. Be ready” Dean warned as he snapped the phone shut. He knew he should keep an eye on the road for the last minutes. There was no point in risking his brother’s life any more than it was already compromised.
As if on cue, Sam’s body started to sink deeper into the seat. His brother was fading away. Dean’s anger made him grip the wheel tighter.
“Sam! Now’s not the time to give up, we’ll be there in a minute! C’mon don’t do this” he begged. Sam remained silent and passive.
Dean didn’t see the last minute on the clock. They vanished into a space he could never get them back. But time didn’t matter when he finally got his brother to safety. Sam still had ways to go, but he was taken care of.
The doctors didn’t waste any time. Faster than it took Dean to say ‘save my brother’, Sam was on his back, legs up, a set of IVs and oxygen tubing sticking in and out of him. The saline solution was for balance, the blood for replenishment of the awful amount he’d lost. Those vampires, if they weren’t dead, Dean would kill them all over again.
They could only watch and pray for Sam to react to the treatment. His blood pressure was still too low for comfort and Sam’s physician - with Dean’s accord - recommended the use of vasopressors. As soon as the drugs entered Sam’s bloodstream, his blood pressure and heart rate started to stabilize.
The doctor was positive. Sam had been lucky in his bad luck and he would pull through without further complications. Dean could only think of the last time his brother had been in the hospital. The speech had been different back then. There had been no recovery, no bounce back. Not this time, though. Sam was given a second chance. Or maybe Dean was. Had his brother wanted to leave, he could’ve just placed a call to the Grand Reaper and his wish would’ve been granted. But Sam was still there, getting better and fighting.
All anger left Dean to be replaced by guilt and pain. Soon, mercy followed with a strong urge to redeem himself.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this. I’ve been awful to you. I can understand why you don’t wanna be brothers anymore…” Dean spoke softly to a still unconscious Sam. At least the numbers were improving; otherwise Dean would have had a hard time believing it.
“But thank you for not giving up on me. I may act tough and all, but I know I still need you. I won’t be able to take on Abaddon all by myself. And this blade… you have a right to be scared. Hell I scare myself too. But I need you here, man. You keep me human” Dean admitted sadly, tears pooling in his eyes. When he looked up, he noticed that weary hazel eyes were studying him.
“Sammy?”
He heard his brother breathe in a deep breath before he nodded softly. So he had heard him. All those things he didn’t know how to say; now they were out. Sam looked at him seriously.
“I’m not even gonna blame you for not saying anything. I should’ve known. I should’ve checked on you. My fault. I’m sorry” Dean apologized sincerely. Sam tried to smile, but he was too exhausted and it came out weak.
He coughed softly and rested his eyes for a few seconds before he ventured into saying something. “It’s good to see you back, Dean” Sam croaked. Dean smiled sadly. He could tell what his brother had meant by that. Sam was welcoming the old Dean back, because that’s who he was trying to be again. The past months had been Hell for the both of them.
“I’ll be a better brother this time. I promise” Dean assured.
Sam nodded and finally managed a real smile. It must have taken all his energy because his eyes drooped right after that. Dean smiled sadly.
“I missed you too, buddy. Let’s get you better and then we can fix this. Us, the demons, this”
Sam managed a last approving sign of the head before sinking into his pillow; breaths evening out. Dean could tell the difference from earlier and knew his brother was only resting to get his strength back. He wasn’t dying anymore and that was a large improvement. It meant Sam had indeed given him a second chance and he promised himself that he would make the best out of it.
THE END
Author: LaueHime
Rating: PG
Genre/pairing: H/C, Family, Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word count: 2,616
Warnings: Spoilers for episode 9x19 and season nine in general.
Summary: Tag to 9x19. Dean is focused on power and destruction. Too bad he forgot to make sure his brother wasn’t still bleeding. And of course Sam wouldn’t say a thing either, all things considered.
Disclaimer: The show belongs to Kripke.
A/N: So it seems like it’s a common recurrence that the show leaves me on my appetite on the hurt/comfort dish. How come Sam is bleeding out one second and fine the next? Well I got that fixed for you if you were as sad as me to not see it in the episode! Feedback is love too. I hope you’ll enjoy this!
SNSN
The road was deserted and the sky was gray. They’d been out of town and far into the secluded forest where the vampire nest had been. As they had clearly put it for Jody, this had been a cleaning mission, not a rescue. Well, luckily for Alex - or Annie or whatever the hell her name was - she hadn’t had time to feed and that left her a chance at remission. As Dean had said, it would be a rough couple of days, but God bless the antidote, she would be okay. Jody would make sure of that.
It was a good thing Jody was still alive too. Hadn’t it been for Alex and the bond she seemed to have forged with the female sheriff, there would be no more Jody Mills to worry about. That left behind a job well done and two retreating Winchesters.
Dean focused on the pavement that was quickly swallowed under the front of his classic car. His baby. Driving her had always been a comfort for the eldest and Dean relished in the fact that it gave him something else to focus on.
Sam’s words still echoed in his mind. So what if he was enjoying all the killing? Wasn’t that the point of ganking monsters? What fun would it be if he couldn’t even savor his victories? Still, the look his younger brother had given him haunted his memories. Sam had had that look too often lately. Actually, he could still recall the first time he had seen that specific look. Sam had looked at him like that ever since he’d killed Magnus. That was the first time he’d held the blade as well.
Dean would surely deny it if Sam ever asked, but the blade had changed something in him. The surge of power that had filled him on that day left him craving in a way that no booze or blood could satiate. The only thing that was left in him was instinct. His instinct was primitive and almost bestial. The good thing was that he didn’t spend so much time pondering anymore. Yet, there was something in all of this that Sam didn’t seem to enjoy. His brother had this way of looking at him… as if Dean was a ticking time bomb. Sam was obviously worried about him and Dean couldn’t fathom the reasons why.
He didn’t even turn to see his brother because he was sure that he would see that look again. Sam would look at him with, in his eyes, a mixture of pity and sadness. Frankly, Dean hated to be looked at this way. That’s why he didn’t look at Sam.
Maybe he should’ve. He would have seen the pallor his brother’s face seemed to be running a contest with. He would’ve seen the shivers and the cold sweat too. But Dean didn’t look, too caught up with his own self preservation to even begin to recall what had happened back at the cabin.
Actually, he was thinking of what had happened. Only, the images that were on replay in Dean’s mind weren’t exactly the same as those Sam sported in his own. Dean kept replaying his stoic kill and the way that vampire had avoided his look from fear. That’s the look he liked to see in other people’s eyes. It had nothing to do with pity or concern and it made him feel special… powerful, even. When he’d said ‘look at me, bitch’ and noticed the submission in his opponent, he’d felt like a real alpha. Dean had never been looked at with so much fear and he was only starting to grasp just how much he liked it. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe he was totally enjoying the killing. It made him feel strong. That was a feeling he had forgotten how to wear for a long time, while lately he’d been drowning in despair and hopelessness.
At some point, the silence grew heavy. Even if he wasn’t too happy with his brother, he still felt uncomfortable when they were sitting in the car like two complete strangers. After all they had been through together, it still didn’t feel right to play as nothing more than partners, but it’s what Sam wanted. Dean had gotten over the fact that Sam would most likely not forgive him and he had come to accept it. Still, in his book, partners were allowed to talk once in a while.
“So” Dean started, matter-of-factly. He didn’t miss the slight flinch in his brother’s shoulders. “Everything good with you?” he continued.
For the first time, he listened to his brother. He really listened. It always amazed him how Sam could convey so much without formulating anything. But Dean could hear it clearly; the rapid breathing, the sluggish deglutition and the incessant shifting. Sam was uncomfortable, that was one thing he knew for sure. Something else he could reckon clearly was the fact that something wasn’t right.
“Sam? What’s up?” he asked, finally turning to take a look at his quiet - too quiet - brother. His face fell into his shins because yeah, if he had taken a look at his brother an hour ago, he would’ve seen the pallor and the sweat. He hadn’t and he felt his heart constrict in guilt.
“Fuck” Dean choked out as he stomped on the brakes and pulled the car to the side of the road. He needed to take a look at Sam because he had neglected to do that. What a wonderful brother he was.
Sam didn’t even try to hide it. At that point, it’s not like he was into it nearly enough to do anything about himself. Dean could tell that his little brother had tried to put pressure on his own wounds, but his strength had finally failed him. His brother’s bluish fingers were lax around the wounds and blood had seeped through both sleeves to the point of drenching the material completely.
That’s when it hit Dean like a ton of bricks in the back of the head. While he’d been knocked out, his brother had been bled like a pig sent to the slaughterhouse. Only then did it occur to him to remember the way Sam was hardly coherent after he’d pulled the drains out of his veins. Only then did he remember the way Sam had to lean on him only to remain upright. They had bandaged the wounds quickly and Dean had really fooled himself into thinking that his brother had been out of the woods.
Apparently Sam had forgotten to mention that he was still bleeding. The way he had tried to hold his own wounds away from Dean only testified of a truth the eldest wasn’t willing to endure. Sam had kept his mouth shut on purpose. And now his mouth was ajar, the breath coming out shallow while his lips turned on a bluer shade of blue. The skin that had once been yellowish from pallor had now turned to gray; gray like the sky outside. Dean stared as it started to rain and it made him want to cry.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he breathed out, gripping the bleeding arms to examine them closely. Sam’s eyes fluttered open, but recognition failed to light the dull hazels. Dean shoved his coat off his shoulders and wrapped it tightly around his brother’s arms. Sam’s head was lolling on his neck. Dean looked up into tired eyes and pleaded them silently. If words couldn’t reach his brother where he was, maybe his fear would.
Sam blinked sluggishly at his brother. For a second, Dean thought he saw something cross his brother’s look. It was dark like a veil; a black curtain that closed between his brother and himself. Quickly, he moved his bloodied palms to cup his brother’s cheeks.
“Hey, Sammy. Stay with me, alright. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been a horrible brother to you. I’ve failed you, Sammy, and I’m sorry. But please let me make this right. Please don’t give up on me now” Dean begged as he could clearly feel the shivers in his brother’s body. Quickly, he turned on the heaters to their optimal capacity. His eyes went back to search for Sam’s. When they met, something happened. It was so slight, Dean could’ve mistaken it for something that he wanted to see. Maybe it was just wishful thinking after all. But something inside him felt as if he’d been given a green light and he wasn’t about to waste it.
“Hang in there, Sam. You’re gonna be okay” Dean assured, already gunning the engine back to life. Its purring came to Sam like a lullaby. His lids were so heavy and everything was just waltzing softly in his line of vision; a slow sway that lolled him to sleep. The darkness was inviting, but something at the back of his head kept him going. That something sounded a hell of a lot like his brother telling him to hold on.
Dean had his cell stuck between his ear and his shoulder so that he could keep a hand on the wheel and the other one on Sam’s wrist to keep track of his brother’s condition. What he could feel didn’t please him and that’s why he lost no time in calling for help. At least if they expected them, help would be ready once they reached the hospital. At that point, Sam couldn’t afford to lose any time.
“Yeah he’s lost a lot of blood” Dean explained to the emergency reference he’d come in contact with. He’d have to figure out a cover story as well, but he had ideas already. It didn’t matter too much either for the time being; reaching his destination sounding like a higher priority.
“Well, he’s not exactly conscious. I think that has to do with the fact that he’s bleeding out!” Dean growled into his cell phone. It earned him a groan from his brother and his head instantly snapped towards Sam. All he got was a flutter of eyelashes and snippets of hazel. On the other side of the phone, the lady was trying to get him to calm down. Yeah, like that was going to happen.
“You keep fighting, right Sam? We’re almost there” Dean directed at his brother without a care for his other interlocutor. She got his attention back nevertheless when she started asking about vitals.
“Uh his pulse… it’s fast” he determined while feeling his brother’s wrist. He didn’t have to think too long when she asked if it was strong or weak.
“It’s weak” he stated matter-of-factly. He wasn’t a doctor, but he knew enough about shock to know that his brother was in the late stages.
“His breathing? It’s fast but not deep”
He turned his head to the side, long enough to watch the rapid rise and fall of his brother’s chest. He could tell Sam was struggling and he didn’t like it one bit.
“Yeah, well I’m bringing him in as fast as I can! And no I don’t want a helicopter! I’ll be there in five. Be ready” Dean warned as he snapped the phone shut. He knew he should keep an eye on the road for the last minutes. There was no point in risking his brother’s life any more than it was already compromised.
As if on cue, Sam’s body started to sink deeper into the seat. His brother was fading away. Dean’s anger made him grip the wheel tighter.
“Sam! Now’s not the time to give up, we’ll be there in a minute! C’mon don’t do this” he begged. Sam remained silent and passive.
Dean didn’t see the last minute on the clock. They vanished into a space he could never get them back. But time didn’t matter when he finally got his brother to safety. Sam still had ways to go, but he was taken care of.
The doctors didn’t waste any time. Faster than it took Dean to say ‘save my brother’, Sam was on his back, legs up, a set of IVs and oxygen tubing sticking in and out of him. The saline solution was for balance, the blood for replenishment of the awful amount he’d lost. Those vampires, if they weren’t dead, Dean would kill them all over again.
They could only watch and pray for Sam to react to the treatment. His blood pressure was still too low for comfort and Sam’s physician - with Dean’s accord - recommended the use of vasopressors. As soon as the drugs entered Sam’s bloodstream, his blood pressure and heart rate started to stabilize.
The doctor was positive. Sam had been lucky in his bad luck and he would pull through without further complications. Dean could only think of the last time his brother had been in the hospital. The speech had been different back then. There had been no recovery, no bounce back. Not this time, though. Sam was given a second chance. Or maybe Dean was. Had his brother wanted to leave, he could’ve just placed a call to the Grand Reaper and his wish would’ve been granted. But Sam was still there, getting better and fighting.
All anger left Dean to be replaced by guilt and pain. Soon, mercy followed with a strong urge to redeem himself.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this. I’ve been awful to you. I can understand why you don’t wanna be brothers anymore…” Dean spoke softly to a still unconscious Sam. At least the numbers were improving; otherwise Dean would have had a hard time believing it.
“But thank you for not giving up on me. I may act tough and all, but I know I still need you. I won’t be able to take on Abaddon all by myself. And this blade… you have a right to be scared. Hell I scare myself too. But I need you here, man. You keep me human” Dean admitted sadly, tears pooling in his eyes. When he looked up, he noticed that weary hazel eyes were studying him.
“Sammy?”
He heard his brother breathe in a deep breath before he nodded softly. So he had heard him. All those things he didn’t know how to say; now they were out. Sam looked at him seriously.
“I’m not even gonna blame you for not saying anything. I should’ve known. I should’ve checked on you. My fault. I’m sorry” Dean apologized sincerely. Sam tried to smile, but he was too exhausted and it came out weak.
He coughed softly and rested his eyes for a few seconds before he ventured into saying something. “It’s good to see you back, Dean” Sam croaked. Dean smiled sadly. He could tell what his brother had meant by that. Sam was welcoming the old Dean back, because that’s who he was trying to be again. The past months had been Hell for the both of them.
“I’ll be a better brother this time. I promise” Dean assured.
Sam nodded and finally managed a real smile. It must have taken all his energy because his eyes drooped right after that. Dean smiled sadly.
“I missed you too, buddy. Let’s get you better and then we can fix this. Us, the demons, this”
Sam managed a last approving sign of the head before sinking into his pillow; breaths evening out. Dean could tell the difference from earlier and knew his brother was only resting to get his strength back. He wasn’t dying anymore and that was a large improvement. It meant Sam had indeed given him a second chance and he promised himself that he would make the best out of it.
THE END