Cabin Fever Part Two
Cabin Fever Part Two
By Carol M.
Summary: Fill in for The Girl Next Door…spoilers…just what happened in those three weeks after Dean, Sam and Bobby left the hospital…Bobby does his best to nurse the Winchester’s minds and bodies back to health…
Spoilers: all of season 7
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, only love them
Enjoy!
Thanks so much for all your kind words and interest! So glad you’re enjoying the story so far. On to the next part…
Dean shivered and moaned pitifully, barely conscious as Stu, Bobby’s horse doctor friend, examined him. Bobby stood at the foot of the couch, staring a hole into Dean’s side, not liking the way the kid shook or the way his body was held so taut with pain.
“So what’s the prognosis there, doc?” he asked, glancing at Stu anxiously.
Stu, who had long gray hair and looked like Neil Young, chuckled like he’d just heard a funny joke. “What kind of crazy stuff you people get into?” the doc asked as he set up a makeshift I.V. stand next to the couch.
“Nothing good,” Bobby answered. He watched as Stu swabbed the crook of Dean’s elbow with an alcohol soaked cotton ball. “He gonna be okay?”
“Ken doll, here?” asked the doc, connecting a clear bag of medicine to the stand and then hooking it to a tube. He connected the tube to an I.V. needle and then slid the sharp into Dean’s arm. The young hunter shuddered a bit at the intrusion, his eyes moving rapidly under closed eyelids. Stu taped off the needle and then acknowledged Bobby. “He’s got rot in the bones. Three bags of this over the next twenty four hours and he’ll be fine.” Stu took two more bags of the antibiotic and set it on the coffee table next to the couch. “It’s the pain that’s getting to him though.” Stu produced a drug vial, the label of which Bobby couldn’t see, and stuck a needle into it, filling the syringe full and then shucking out the air bubbles. Then Stu stuck the needle into Dean’s I.V. and pushed down on the plunger.
Bobby watched as Dean’s body literally decompressed before his eyes, the tension leaving, the lines of pain smoothing out. Dean let out a soft sigh and then relaxed into the couch, looking as peaceful as it was possible for Dean Winchester to look these days.
“Save these for def con one,” said Stu, setting a few more vials next to the antibiotics along with a number of syringes. He pulled out two bottles of prescription drugs and added them to the pile. “This’ll get him through the everyday aches and pains.”
“Thanks, Stu. I owe you.”
“Naw. Just do the same for someone else. Pay it forward.”
“I’ll do that.”
“If he gets worse, ring my bell.”
“Bobby?” came a voice from behind him.
Bobby turned to see Sam standing just at the edge of the living room, looking vulnerable and confused, his hair a mess, his eyes wide as he looked from Dean to Stu and then to Bobby. “What happened? Where are we?”
Bobby smiled, feeling cautious relief. “Sam, boy, it’s good to see you up and around.”
Sam flashed him a weak smile. “What happened?” he repeated.
“Hold that thought,” said Bobby. He looked to Stu and nodded towards Sam. “You mind checking him out too. He took a good whack to the head.”
Without a word, Stu whipped out a penlight and strode over to Sam. He shined the light back and forth in Sam’s eyes, examining them closely.
“Bobby, what the…” Sam stepped back from the doc, but Stu kept coming.
“Pupils are normal and reactive,” said Stu. He pressed a thumb into Sam’s head wound.
“Ow! Who the hell are you?”
“He’s fine,” said Stu, backing away. “If the headache gets bad, he can share some of Romeo’s pain pills. If he passes out or starts speaking tongues, give me a call.”
“Unfortunately, speaking in tongues is not entirely out of the realm of possibility,” muttered Bobby.
“Huh?” said Stu.
“Never mind,” said Bobby.
Stu quickly collected his supplies and stuffed them into his bag. “I don’t mean to rush, but I’ve got a horse I gotta put down in Genoa Falls.”
“Thanks for coming, Stu.”
Stu winked. “Don’t mention it.”
And then Stu was gone, leaving Bobby and Sam to stare at one another, the sound of Dean snoring filling the silence between them.
“Bobby, what happened?” Sam asked, glancing worriedly at Dean. He made a move towards his brother.
“Let him be,” said Bobby. “He’s finally resting. Been worrying his head off about you the last two days. What do you remember?”
Sam clamped his eyes shut as if trying to remember. After a few moments, he reopened them, looking at Bobby with something akin to relief. “Uh… your house… they burned it. We thought… we thought you were dead.”
“Yeah, I caught that,” said Bobby, eyeing his phone on the coffee table. “Your brother left me a voicemail worthy of a chick flick Oscar nomination. I was touched.”
“We can’t lose anybody else, Bobby,” said Sam, inching closer and closer to Bobby and then finally grabbing his arm, squeezing it solidly like he needed tangible proof that Bobby was there and in the room with him.
Bobby couldn’t resist. He pulled Sam into a tight embrace, damn grateful that they were all still in one piece. “I’m still here, boy. I ain’t going anywhere.”
They parted from the hug, eyeing each other awkwardly once again. “What do you remember after the junkyard?” Bobby asked.
“Um… pain… my head… it felt like it was going to explode.”
“What about Lucifer?” Bobby asked, his chest tightening with worry. “Any more… sightings?”
“Saw him a few times,” admitted Sam, looking down and shuffling his feet. “I thought I was back in hell with the pain in my head.”
“And now?”
Sam shrugged uneasily. “So far, so good?”
It was a start.
“Where are we anyway?” asked Sam, looking around the cabin.
“Old cabin of Rufus’s. Whitefish, Montana. Figure you and your brother can hold up here til you get your sea legs back.”
Sam looked down at Dean, who was sleeping like a baby and looked like one too. “How’s he?”
“Nasty break. Infection. But he should be on the mend in a few days. Which in translation means he’ll be an ornery cuss until he can move proper again.”
“Good,” said Sam, nodding. “What about the Leviathan?”
“We’re off the radar. At least for the time being. Let’s try and keep it that way, shall we?”
“Yeah.”
Bobby sunk down in one of the chairs, feeling how comfortable it was, the events of the last few days finally catching up to him.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” said Sam, carefully sitting down at the end of the couch Dean was curled up on, doing his best not to disturb his brother. “I’ll sit up with him.”
Bobby shook his head as he relaxed further into the chair. “I’m good,” he said, thankful for a moment of peace and quiet. He wanted nothing more than to sleep for about 3 days. But the boys needed him still. He had to stay up and keep an eye on Sam, make sure his noggin was still functional. And Dean, well, he’d need some more meds in a few hours. He’d go make some coffee to keep himself awake. In just a second, he’d get up and go make some coffee. In just a second.
Then he drifted off to sleep.
Bobby was startled awake by the sound of a loud squeal of pain. He looked around, confused, not remembering where he was or in fact, who he was at that particular moment.
“Sammy… owwww… what… stop!”
Bobby looked in the direction of the voice and saw Sam dragging a drugged out and hurting Dean off the couch by the front of his T-shirt, Dean’s casted leg bumping off the couch, the I.V. pulling out of Dean’s arm, the stand crashing to the floor.
“You’re not real!” Sam screamed at Dean, his face red with anger and confusion. “You’re back in hell! Stop hurting my brother! I’ll kill you. I swear I will!”
“Sam no!” shouted Bobby, slapping himself out of his sleep induced stupor and darting over to Sam and Dean.
“Sam… please… it’s me,” Dean pleaded, his voice tight with pain.
“No… no… you’re not him! You’re not Dean!” Sam insisted. “Dean had a broken leg. You’ve got nothing. No cast, no brace, no nothing! ” Sam punctuated each word with a brutal kick to Dean’s casted leg. Dean howled in pain, tears falling freely from his eyes.
“Ahhhhh… Sa…Sammy… s’me…”
Bobby came up behind Sam and gave him a swift shove back towards the couch. Dean fell out of Sam’s clutches and collapsed to the floor, curling protectively around his leg, his eyes clenched shut, his body quivering, his breathing strained, groans of pain escaping his parted lips .
Sam hit the couch stunned and then seemed to come back to himself. He gazed from Bobby to Dean with an expression of horrific realization on his face. “I… I thought it was Lucifer. Thought he was trying to hurt, Dean.” Sam took a few cautious steps towards his brother, who still lay curled in a ball of agony on the floor, unable to speak, barely able to breathe. “Dean, I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly backing away like he didn’t have a right to be in such close proximity to his brother. He looked at Bobby and the sad, guilty expression on the boy’s face felt like a kick to Bobby’s gut. “Bobby, I...” Sam began, trailing off, unable to continue.
Bobby sighed, his heart breaking for both the Winchesters. “Sam it’s…”
Before Bobby could finish, Sam shook his head, tears pricking his eyes. “I… I can’t…” Then he turned and ran out of the cabin like his life depended on it, leaving Bobby alone with the other fallen Winchester.
TBC
Part Three