(no subject)
Disclaimer: same old, same old. I wish I was this smart.
A/N: This is the final chapter. It was a lot of fun to write and I hope to write another one here pretty quick, if my muse allows.
Sam walked into the the motel room, looking more cheerful than he had in days. The sun was streaming into the room, lighting it up briefly. "Hey Dean, I'm back." He forgot to lower his voice.
Dean raised his stuffy, aching head and glared at Sam with an evilness that might have frightened a kitten. "Dude, close that damn door, will you? God, I feel like I've been drinking all night, only without the underlying happiness of knowing that I got laid at some point. What the hell are you so giddy about anyway? Where'd you go?"
"I don't do giddy, Dean, but I did swing by that store, and the manager said Sparrow was set to work today, but she didn't show. Didn't even call in. He was out and out pissed, can't say that I blame him, really. So I rented a boat again and went out to that island, to see for myself. Before you ask, yes, I wore earplugs and my iPod, just in case. I walked all over that place before I found three dead birds. I've never seen any bird like that before, though. Not even in books. They were beautiful, but damn freaky looking, too. Believe it or not, they weren't big at all. About the size of your average songbird."
Dean seemed to be following Sam pretty well, in spite of the migrane he was nursing and the fact that his cold was about ten times worse than it had been. "So it worked? Huh, cool, I guess." He buried his face into his pillow, unable to hold his head up any longer. "God damn me..."
Sam sat down on his own bed and braced his knees against the side of Dean's. Very gently, he eased a hand under Dean's cheek and had him look at him. "You still feel pretty dragged down?" His eyes were worried and he rested a cool hand against his brother's hot forehead.
"That, Little Brother, is a sever understatement. The most sever understatement I think I've ever heard, in fact." He pulled away and grabbed a wad of tissues to sneeze into, then he blew his nose weakly. Damn it, even that made his head feel as if it were going to explode. He swore under his breath.
Sam winced in sympathy. "You know, I was thinking. Maybe you killing them had some weird side effects. You told me about how you heard them scream, right?" He bit his lip as Dean nodded very slowly, miserably. Maybe they gave you this headache, something as a parting gift."
"Bitches, every single one of them. I didn't even talk to the other two."
"Well, looks like you're gonna get your wish after all." Sam felt around the truely cluttered bedside table, looking for the thermometer.
"What does that mean?" Dean sniffled a bit and squinted up at him.
"You said when this was over you wanted to stay in a room for a few days. So we're gonna stay for a week or so and try to get you better." He found the instrument and held it out to his brother.
Dean opened his mouth to protest that he really didn't need that break, but closed it quickly. That actually sounded really appealing. "If you really want to, I guess I could live with that. You think the Lakers are playing?" He took the thermometer and poked it under his tounge.
Sam snorted and shrugged. "Could be. You want some food?"
Dean nodded, but motioned that Sam waited until he could talk before he left. After Sam had checked the reading and sighed heavily, he looked at his brother, giving him the go ahead.
"You feed me soup again, I'm gonna hurl."
Sam smiled to himself and shook his head. "Fine, no soup, but it's still the best thing..."
"Don't you dare finish that sentence. You're too young and too male to be an old wife. Get me a burger if you're gonna get me anything at all."
Sam raised an eyebrow and sighed, shaking his head. "Your funeral, I guess." Half an hour later, he came back with identical take out boxes. "There, two cheeseburgers and two orders of fries."
Dean managed a very weak smile. "Wish I could smell it."
To his credit, Sam didn't say one word when Dean didn't even finish a third of his food. He just took the box and set it aside before pulling the covers around Dean's shoulders and resting a comforting hand on his forehead again. "Night Big Brother." He grimaced as Dean started to snore, then flicked on the TV. "What's the saying, a hundred channels and still there's nothing on?"
The only answer he got was a cough, followed by another snore.
XXXXXXX
by the end of the week, Sam was ready to kill his brother, steal the Impala and run away. To say that Dean was a bad convelesant would be putting it too mildly. After two or three miserable, achy, feverish days, Dean was starting to feel a little bit more like his old self. The headache he'd been suffering from finally went away and his fever broke, leaving a sick man who was seriously sick of being sick. True to form, as soon as Dean was starting to feel a little better, he was ready to hit the road, even though his body wasn't quite ready to let him. Sure, he wasn't running a fever anymore, and he could cough or sneeze without jarring his head, but he stil tired easily and was, whether he wanted to admit it or not, very weak from his ordeal. So, instead of leaving, he complained. He complained that he was bored, that he was stir crazy and that he really didn't like basketball as much as he thought he did.
But Sam was true to form as well. He made Dean wait the week out, if only to make sure that he wasn't going to relaps into pneumonia, as he'd done once when they were kids.
On the seventh day, Sam woke up to Dean standing over him, grinning. "Let's go, Sammy, we're burning daylight."
"Jeez Jerk, let me wake up first. Since when do you wake up before me, anyway? How you feeling?"
"Since you've been forcing me to sleep all the freaking time. It catches up with you after a while, you know. I feel fine, well, a lot better, anyway. Go take a shower."
Sam came out of the bathroom and scowled at his brother when he looked at what he was wearing. "Dude, that is so my sweatshirt. I bought it with my own money at school."
"Dude, no, it really isn't. I've had it for months. You ready to go?"
"And if I say I'm staying right here until I get my shirt back?"
"Then I'll say that I'm leaving your ass here. I'd do it too."
"You would not." Sam did get to his feet, however.
"Give me my keys. My baby missed me. And she got tired of your granny driving and girl music."
Sam took the keys out of his pocket, but seemed a little doubtful. "You sure you're up to driving her? You still look a little crappy."
"I feel fine. Fine enough to drive, anyway."
"I just don't want you to sneeze and have us meet our maker way too early or something."
"Screw you. Give me my keys. Or do I have to go hotwire her?"
Sam grinned and tossed him the keys, rather impressed that he caught them. "Should I let you two have a few minutes alone before I come out there?"
"You really wanna be left behind? I, for one want to put this place in the rearview and never come back here again."
sam got into the car. "Sounds like a plan to me." He gave Dean a sideways look. "So, what who you say if I told you there was a cyclopse sighting a few towns over?"
"I'd ask you what a good little law student was doing smoking crack, and why he didn't share with his big brother."
Sam snorted and stared out the window. "Wake me up if you need a break."
"Sure, but I won't want one. Not for a long time."
End
A/n: Well, it's done now. Thanks again to all who read, reviewed, put me on watch and even favorited this story. It all meant a lot to me. I hope you liked it. ML
A/N: This is the final chapter. It was a lot of fun to write and I hope to write another one here pretty quick, if my muse allows.
Sam walked into the the motel room, looking more cheerful than he had in days. The sun was streaming into the room, lighting it up briefly. "Hey Dean, I'm back." He forgot to lower his voice.
Dean raised his stuffy, aching head and glared at Sam with an evilness that might have frightened a kitten. "Dude, close that damn door, will you? God, I feel like I've been drinking all night, only without the underlying happiness of knowing that I got laid at some point. What the hell are you so giddy about anyway? Where'd you go?"
"I don't do giddy, Dean, but I did swing by that store, and the manager said Sparrow was set to work today, but she didn't show. Didn't even call in. He was out and out pissed, can't say that I blame him, really. So I rented a boat again and went out to that island, to see for myself. Before you ask, yes, I wore earplugs and my iPod, just in case. I walked all over that place before I found three dead birds. I've never seen any bird like that before, though. Not even in books. They were beautiful, but damn freaky looking, too. Believe it or not, they weren't big at all. About the size of your average songbird."
Dean seemed to be following Sam pretty well, in spite of the migrane he was nursing and the fact that his cold was about ten times worse than it had been. "So it worked? Huh, cool, I guess." He buried his face into his pillow, unable to hold his head up any longer. "God damn me..."
Sam sat down on his own bed and braced his knees against the side of Dean's. Very gently, he eased a hand under Dean's cheek and had him look at him. "You still feel pretty dragged down?" His eyes were worried and he rested a cool hand against his brother's hot forehead.
"That, Little Brother, is a sever understatement. The most sever understatement I think I've ever heard, in fact." He pulled away and grabbed a wad of tissues to sneeze into, then he blew his nose weakly. Damn it, even that made his head feel as if it were going to explode. He swore under his breath.
Sam winced in sympathy. "You know, I was thinking. Maybe you killing them had some weird side effects. You told me about how you heard them scream, right?" He bit his lip as Dean nodded very slowly, miserably. Maybe they gave you this headache, something as a parting gift."
"Bitches, every single one of them. I didn't even talk to the other two."
"Well, looks like you're gonna get your wish after all." Sam felt around the truely cluttered bedside table, looking for the thermometer.
"What does that mean?" Dean sniffled a bit and squinted up at him.
"You said when this was over you wanted to stay in a room for a few days. So we're gonna stay for a week or so and try to get you better." He found the instrument and held it out to his brother.
Dean opened his mouth to protest that he really didn't need that break, but closed it quickly. That actually sounded really appealing. "If you really want to, I guess I could live with that. You think the Lakers are playing?" He took the thermometer and poked it under his tounge.
Sam snorted and shrugged. "Could be. You want some food?"
Dean nodded, but motioned that Sam waited until he could talk before he left. After Sam had checked the reading and sighed heavily, he looked at his brother, giving him the go ahead.
"You feed me soup again, I'm gonna hurl."
Sam smiled to himself and shook his head. "Fine, no soup, but it's still the best thing..."
"Don't you dare finish that sentence. You're too young and too male to be an old wife. Get me a burger if you're gonna get me anything at all."
Sam raised an eyebrow and sighed, shaking his head. "Your funeral, I guess." Half an hour later, he came back with identical take out boxes. "There, two cheeseburgers and two orders of fries."
Dean managed a very weak smile. "Wish I could smell it."
To his credit, Sam didn't say one word when Dean didn't even finish a third of his food. He just took the box and set it aside before pulling the covers around Dean's shoulders and resting a comforting hand on his forehead again. "Night Big Brother." He grimaced as Dean started to snore, then flicked on the TV. "What's the saying, a hundred channels and still there's nothing on?"
The only answer he got was a cough, followed by another snore.
XXXXXXX
by the end of the week, Sam was ready to kill his brother, steal the Impala and run away. To say that Dean was a bad convelesant would be putting it too mildly. After two or three miserable, achy, feverish days, Dean was starting to feel a little bit more like his old self. The headache he'd been suffering from finally went away and his fever broke, leaving a sick man who was seriously sick of being sick. True to form, as soon as Dean was starting to feel a little better, he was ready to hit the road, even though his body wasn't quite ready to let him. Sure, he wasn't running a fever anymore, and he could cough or sneeze without jarring his head, but he stil tired easily and was, whether he wanted to admit it or not, very weak from his ordeal. So, instead of leaving, he complained. He complained that he was bored, that he was stir crazy and that he really didn't like basketball as much as he thought he did.
But Sam was true to form as well. He made Dean wait the week out, if only to make sure that he wasn't going to relaps into pneumonia, as he'd done once when they were kids.
On the seventh day, Sam woke up to Dean standing over him, grinning. "Let's go, Sammy, we're burning daylight."
"Jeez Jerk, let me wake up first. Since when do you wake up before me, anyway? How you feeling?"
"Since you've been forcing me to sleep all the freaking time. It catches up with you after a while, you know. I feel fine, well, a lot better, anyway. Go take a shower."
Sam came out of the bathroom and scowled at his brother when he looked at what he was wearing. "Dude, that is so my sweatshirt. I bought it with my own money at school."
"Dude, no, it really isn't. I've had it for months. You ready to go?"
"And if I say I'm staying right here until I get my shirt back?"
"Then I'll say that I'm leaving your ass here. I'd do it too."
"You would not." Sam did get to his feet, however.
"Give me my keys. My baby missed me. And she got tired of your granny driving and girl music."
Sam took the keys out of his pocket, but seemed a little doubtful. "You sure you're up to driving her? You still look a little crappy."
"I feel fine. Fine enough to drive, anyway."
"I just don't want you to sneeze and have us meet our maker way too early or something."
"Screw you. Give me my keys. Or do I have to go hotwire her?"
Sam grinned and tossed him the keys, rather impressed that he caught them. "Should I let you two have a few minutes alone before I come out there?"
"You really wanna be left behind? I, for one want to put this place in the rearview and never come back here again."
sam got into the car. "Sounds like a plan to me." He gave Dean a sideways look. "So, what who you say if I told you there was a cyclopse sighting a few towns over?"
"I'd ask you what a good little law student was doing smoking crack, and why he didn't share with his big brother."
Sam snorted and stared out the window. "Wake me up if you need a break."
"Sure, but I won't want one. Not for a long time."
End
A/n: Well, it's done now. Thanks again to all who read, reviewed, put me on watch and even favorited this story. It all meant a lot to me. I hope you liked it. ML