musesandlyrics | 6.13. Grey's Anatomy quote
6.13. "Communication. It's the first thing we really learn in life. Funny thing is, once we grow up, learn our words and really start talking, the harder it becomes to know what to say. Or how to ask for what we really need."
Grey's Anatomy
Co-written with makeoutalright
Sam couldn't help feeling like a big idiot as he got wheeled through the hospital towards some garden or courtyard or the like that existed on the other side to the ward he was saying it. He had the use of his legs! He wasn't an invalid! But apparently it was hospital policy for patients who had been seriously ill to be wheeled out - or around - if they had to be on the move. At first, Sam wasn't even quite sure why he was going anywhere. Ailbe told him he was looking peaky, like he could use some 'fresh air'. Simon, who had been watching a Tomb Raider marathon on the TV, just sniggered when he heard this and earned a Death Glare from Ailbe. It all went over Sam's head, but then, Sam's head wasn't the most reliable of things right now.
He agreed to go with her, though, after her manager said it was fine and even agreed Sam looked like he could use some sun. Sun, fresh air, what the hell was this? Pick on Sam Day? He was in a slightly pouty mood by the time they reached the garden area. Other patients were there with their family members, but Sam was the only one with a nurse. Technically Ailbe was at the end of her shift, though, so he wasn't even sure it still counted. The night before, he had very little sleep again. In an odd way, it was somewhat comforting that Simon was in the same boat. The poor guy had these waves of pain now and again, much worse than Sam's, which was just confined to his head. Simon's was all over, and this time, Sam actually had a distraction from his nightmares when he got out of bed and went to sit beside Simon. They discussed Simpson's episodes, and then which Victoria Secret model had the best tits, only Sam had no clue about any of the more recent ones Simon was talking about. Simon's voice had been strained with the pain, but he reached the max on his painkillers. Sam must've sat there for hours, the two injured men swapping stories about their older siblings when they were kids. Sam was amused to hear that Simon's older sister sounded a lot like Dean in many ways. They both seemed to have that fierce protectiveness, even if they couldn't always be there to make sure their kid brothers were okay. He knew Dean felt guilty, he got the restless awkward look on his face more often than not, but Sam didn't know how he could convince Dean that it was okay. It wasn't like he was dead, was it? And the Hell, thing, well, he doubted Satan would've let Dean out on a day pass.
The Satan and Hell thing wasn't anything Sam was ready to think about yet, though. It was obvious that in the apparent three year gap in his memory, a lot of shit had gone down. Sam knew Dean didn't want to talk about it, and at the same time, Sam didn't want to know about it. Between them, the piles of delusion were astounding. But right now, he was tired and a bit cranky that people kept telling him he looked like shit. Of course he looked like shit! People in hospital tended to do that. Simon looked like shit, too, but he had more people telling him he was cute than anything else. The male - and very gay - cleaner seemed to have a crush on the stunt driver, to which Simon told him he would definitely have a crack at him if he wasn't as straight as a cock on Viagra. Sam nearly snorted Diet Coke all over himself at that comment. Especially when the guy returned with telling Simon to give him a call if he ever woke up batting for the other team. At some point, Sam realised that he enjoyed having a room mate. That coupled with Dean coming back, his spirits had lifted distinctly. Now if only he could manage to sleep without aid, and stop the pain in his head.
As soon as they were in the main part of the courtyard, Sam kicked the footrests away and stood up, not willing to stay in the damn thing any longer than he had to. He stretched, pushing his hands up above his head and then scratching his stomach where his t-shirt rode up. It was an old Metallica t-shirt Dean had brought for him. Sam had asked his brother to bring him some 'stuff' but evidently Dean wasn't particularly well-versed in what 'stuff' was appropriate. It wasn't any stuff Sam recognised, and none of it was new. But he didn't ask. Anything was better than the hospital gowns. Dean wasn't around today, and had told Sam he wouldn't be until later. He still hadn't found the Impala, so Sam assumed that's where he was disappearing, even if Dean told him when asked that he was 'Going to London to see the Queen'. Sam called him a jerk, Dean retaliated by calling him a bitch. Same ol', same ol'. "Why am I hear here?" Sam finally asked, turning around to Ailbe and squinting in the bright sunlight. Shade. He needed shade, not bloody sun.
Ailbe blinked behind her glasses, her blue eyes having been firmly fixed on the strip of tan skin exposed when Jimmy had stretched, and started scratching. She couldn't help it. Every moment in his presence was just another nail in the coffin as far as she was concerned. She was doomed. Too in lust to realise that she needed to keep it all as a purely professional relationship. Nurse and patient. Nothing more. Only now she was in jeans, a tank top, and cardigan - her plain clothes. The glasses were on in replacement of her contacts that she wore most days, and her long, dark hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders, not pulled back in a ponytail, or bun like when she was in her scrubs.
Between Jo talking to her in the cafeteria, and Simon giving her the same kind of nudge, she had no choice but to talk to Jimmy. Only when she went to say something, she just squeaked, and blushed, and gripped the wheelchair tighter as she stayed behind it to use it as a shield for a moment. Her stomach had tied itself in knots, and she'd be lying if she didn't admit to being distracted most of the day worrying about 'The Talk'. She bit on her lip, and moved from behind the wheelchair to take Jimmy's hand gently and lead him to a bench under the shade of a tree. The squinting hadn't been lost on her, and even now she was still looking after him. It was a hard habit to shake, and not just because she was his nurse. She cared about Jimmy, or whatever his name was. "I wanted to see you as me," she eventually told him, her eyes flicking up to meet his. She was still hanging onto his hand, and now her thumb was rubbing back and forth across the back of it. A tiny thrill was going up her spine with a knowledge that she was holding his hand, and she wanted to kick herself for being such a schoolgirl about it. "Not as your nurse, as just... Ailbe," she tried to clarify.
Sam was still frowning a little from the sun as his eyes adjusted to the softer light under the tree. Thank god for trees. The last thing he needed was another headache. It was just a faint discomfort now, but he could deal with that. He just really wasn't following her train of thought. He looked down at her, blinking himself. "Okay..." he said hesitantly and cleared his throat, holding his hand up in confusion. "But you are my nurse," he had to add. "That's why you're here. So my eyeball or brain doesn't explode when I use my feet... or something." He watched her closely. "Right?"
Ailbe drew her eyebrows together as she stuck her tongue out a little at the images he was making her imagine with his words, as she shook her head. "Well, not right now. Right now I'm just me. And I'm still your nurse. Just I'm off the clock, and I'm here as someone that likes you." She was still watching him, not sure if she was making sense. Even to her own ears it was sounding like complete nonsense. She may as well have been sitting here talking in Japanese. Assuming he didn't know Japanese. "I wanted a chance to just be able to get to know you, Jimmy."
"You didn't like me before?" Sam asked with a small laugh. He spotted a bench nearby and sat down on it. He was still tired and weak, but it wasn't something he enjoyed admitting to himself, let alone anyone else. He guessed now that was why the wheelchair was in play. If he had to walk from the ward to here, he would probably be exhausted by now. "I... I'm not really following. You just gotta humour me a little. I wasn't even following episodes of The Simpsons this morning, and I've seen them loads of times. Is this some sort of therapy? They did tell me they might try to thrust that on me at some point. Post-trauma therapy. Odd, considering I can't even remember the trauma."
Ailbe sat down beside him, finally giving Jimmy his hand back as she clasped hers in her lap to stop her from fiddling. "No, no therapy. I really am off the clock right now." She let out a soft sigh as she frowned, worried she was making a huge mistake trying to talk to Jimmy. He was suffering from amnesia, and nightmares. How did she think he would be able to handle some chick telling her she liked him? "And of course I liked you before, but I like like you. As more than a patient. I know you don't remember the trauma, but there's still working through the fact that you can't remember it. I know it sounds weird, but it's true. You still have to deal with the fact you can't remember things, and the emotional frustration that comes with that. It's really not why I'm here, though."
Sam put his hand up and rubbed his fingers through the back of his hair. He didn't know what to say at first, floundering just a little. His conversation with Dean jumped back into his mind and he wet his lips. "I-uh... is that even allowed?" he asked, glancing around at anyone who might be nearby and listening in case she got in trouble. He gave a small shrug of his shoulder. "I didn't even realise I had amnesia until my brother got here. Not like this anyway. Can't remember loads more than I thought. Dean was away in H-ah... prison. He's innocent, though. Took the... um... fall for... someone else." Shit, fuck, goddamnit! His lying skills were stuffed. His brain was struggling coming up with decent cover stories. This could get dangerous.
Ailbe couldn't help it as her eyebrows went up. "Prison? Oh my god... I mean, wow. I'm sorry. I didn't realise... And I guess you didn't realise you'd forgotten. If he's innocent though, that would have just been hard. Stuck in a place like that and knowing you don't deserve it. Gotta be some friend he took the fall for." She had managed to keep the subject changed briefly before she wet her lips and looked down at her hands. "It's... well, it's not allowed as such. They can't do anything about the me liking you thing, but clearly if I try and jump your bones here and now we'd have issues. I'm not asking for you to even return my feelings. I know it's weird, and it's probably something you really don't need, and I'm sorry, but I just... I... I don't even know what I'm trying to do. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."
"Yeah... some friend..." Sam glanced away at a vine-covered wall, though he was unseeing to the view. If what Dean had said was accurate - and there was no reason for it not to be - Sam was the reason Dean was in Hell. Dean gave his soul to save Sam's life. It wasn't right, and Sam hated the thought of it. What had gotten so horrible that Dean needed to give his soul to save his life? He rested his hand behind his neck and looked back at her. "You don't need to be liking someone like me. You'll only get hurt."
Ailbe had been looking at Jimmy, watching him get that faraway look again. She wanted to ask him what was on his mind, but knew he probably wouldn't tell her. No doubt finding out your brother was in prison was enough to give anyone food for thought. "Why?" she asked him softly, tilting her head as she tried to hold his gaze. "You don't seem so bad to me."
"Sometimes just being in a bad situation can make someone bad by default. People get hurt. People close to me. I don't want that anymore. I don't even... Dean and I, we move around a lot." Sam sat back and stretched his legs out in front of him. It was irrelevant if he found her attractive or anything like that. She had helped him when no one else was there, and he would be eternally grateful for that. But he couldn't deal with another scenario like Jess all over again. What if that thing that got her wanted to get anyone he was with? Anyone a Winchester guy was with?
"Oh." Ailbe looked crestfallen. She didn't even have enough energy to try and hide it. It was the end of her shift, and she was just tired. She should have been getting home to bed, but she really had wanted to spend some proper time with Sam. Now she just felt like she was intruding. "That's... That's okay. I wasn't asking you if... It's fine. I get it. I don't want to get in your way, or be someone you need to worry about. I just heard that maybe you were staying in New York for a bit. I'll just, um, stick to being your nurse."
Sam's forehead creased and he looked at her apologetically. "I'm really sorry..." he offered helplessly, feeling guilty for making her feel like whatever she was. He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. "What were you asking me, then?" he soon added, glancing back up at her. "I don't really know what's going on. I need to leave it up to Dean to call the shots. He... knows what's been going on more than I do. Apparently I had his car, too. Lost it. I can't remember where I left it."
Ailbe tucked some of her hair behind her ear as she gave a shake of her head. "It's fine," she repeated, even if she felt like she wanted to burst into tears. She really shouldn't have tried to do this after such a long day. She was already on edge, and worrying about talking to Jimmy had pushed her over. "I wasn't trying to assume I'd automatically be close to you, but I guess even if we do get to know each other I'll just hold you back. Friends, or more... Probably wouldn't matter. You lost his car? I'm guessing he must really love it. I'm sorry, Jimmy. I know it's hard having these gaps you didn't even realise were there."
"You don't even know me," Sam murmured. There was no accusation in his tone, just slight awe. "I don't know even really know me... I just... we just... there's a reason we're both pushing thirty and single. Well, Dean is, I'm not that old. Older than I thought I was, but he'll hit the false teeth before I do. Things are... fuck," he swore softly to himself, shaking his head slightly. "My girlfriend was killed. Not... recently, just left some fears, I guess. She died the same way our Mom did. His car is his pride and joy. I was more stunned I even had it than the fact I lost it. I usually have to blackmail him to get the keys."
"If he was in prison, it wasn't like he was going to be able to drive it. You're his brother. At the end of the day, he trusts you with what matters." Ailbe couldn't help herself as she reached out to rest her hand on top of his. "I'm trying to get to know you. That was my point. It just got lost under the stupid blurting out of stuff. I still like you enough to want to get to know you. And honestly? I want to be able to prove you wrong, and be someone that could stick it all out, and last. I'm sorry about your girlfriend, and your mother. I really am."
Sam gave a small smirk and shook his head. "He doesn't always trust me. I don't always give him reason to." He sighed, putting his free hand up to rub his eyes. "You're just better not knowing me. I'm part of the reason my Mom and my girlfriend died. Of why Dean was in prison. It's... complicated. Very, very complicated. I don't remember a lot, but there is a lot I do remember, too. The stuff I don't remember just... I can't even begin to fathom it after what I do. Which probably hardly even makes sense, but I just... how can you even say you want to stick it out and last when you don't even know what it all is?"
Ailbe gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Because I want to at least be given a chance to try. I don't know what it is about you, but ever since you came into the hospital, you've slowly just been driving me crazy. I also want to ask you a question, and you can tell me to fuck off, or whatever, but maybe it'll at least be a small test of whether, or not I can handle it. It'll also mean telling you something, and I apologise in advance. Sometimes we just need to be able to talk about stuff with people, no matter how complicated," she said as she repeated something Simon had told her. "I'm not your brother. I don't know the whole story, but I want to know your side."
Sam pressed his lips together. Did he even have the heart to tell her he couldn't tell her his side? At least, not the whole of it. He knew she had already been upset when he rejected her advances, or whatever the hell it was he had done to make her feel stupid. Sometimes they were able to let people in on what they did and why they did it, but until he knew what the lay of the land was, it was just dangerous to get her involved. Right? He knew he would have to tell Dean about this, he just had no idea what his brother would say. "What do you need to ask me?" he asked warily. It sounded intense, like maybe it was so intense there was a high chance he wouldn't answer anyway.
Ailbe was trying not to let her leg bounce as the nerves built up. It was a habit she still had when things were really bad, and she figured being knocked back by Jimmy, and then still having a conversation with him constituted as bad. She was already planning on having a drink, or two, when she got home. Somehow she was going to need to forget all about her stupid crush so things weren't weird when she was just his nurse again. "What's your real name?"
Sam looked back at her calmly, shrugging a little as he cleared his throat. "Sam. Sam Winchester," he replied without hesitation, offering her a hint of a smile. "No one ever asked."
Ailbe managed a smile, and offered him her hand. "Nice to meet you, Sam Winchester. And I don't think anyone ever thought to ask. Just took your ID as gospel. It was only because of something Jo said that I'm asking."
Sam did manage to look innocent, despite being sprung to the contrary. "We sort of rely on people not asking. In my own defence, though, when I first woke up, I did think I was this Jimmy person because you were all calling me that. But when I started to get better, I knew who I was. I was just highly aware I was alone and a little afraid of what was going on because Dean wasn't there. I had to do what I did to try and protect myself. Jo? Simon's sister, right? I haven't met her."
Ailbe dropped her hand when he didn't take it, and folded them back up in her lap. Her leg was really starting to bounce now, even if she was relieved that Sam had revealed his name. She at least knew that, even if she didn't know anything else. "Sam suits you better. I had trouble seeing you as a Jimmy," she revealed. "Yeah, that's her. You'll meet her soon enough. She's never very far from him. Apparently she's offered your brother a place to stay while he figures out something for you two. You did what you had to, and I get that. I promise I won't tell anyone."
Sam shot her an apologetic look and reached over to take her hand, holding it and letting their joined hands rest on his thigh. "Bear with me, okay? I'm not myself lately. I'm not deliberately trying to make you feel bad. It's just hard to keep my brain functioning at a normal level right now. I'm not a jerk," he told her, trying to get her to understand. "Blame Dean for the Jimmy thing. It was just something we needed to not be us for. At least, I think it was. I can't specifically remember it clearly." His eyebrows rose. "Dean's staying with Simon's sister? Jesus, did she drug him to get him to agree? No. Wait. She slept with him, didn't she?" he deduced.
Ailbe returned his look with a guilty one. She wasn't trying to make him feel obligated into showing her any kindness. He didn't owe her a thing. She really did just want to run away, and forget she'd tried to have this conversation, but then he had her hand again, and she was frozen to the bench. "I am, I promise. I just don't want to pressure you. I wasn't trying to make you do anything, or say anything... I'm sorry. It's hard for you, and I'm just making it all harder. Yeah, he is. And yes, she did," Ailbe admitted with a blush. "But you can't say anything! At least, I don't think you can. I'm not sure if Simon knows. She says he's been sleeping a lot."
"Yeah, it is hard. Which is why I appreciate all your help. It's harder alone," Sam pointed out. He nodded with a small frown. "Yeah, I noticed that. But he's, um... he went through a lot in... prison. He's probably just run down, but he won't admit it. Do you know? Will she... I dunno, take care of him? He wouldn't admit to needing that, either, but he doesn't let anyone take care of him, I think he probably needs it some now, you know?"
"You still sure I'm helping?" she asked with a slight laugh. "I can't even imagine what it must have been like for him. I'd probably sleep a lot, too. Jo? Well, she can be a bit of a ball buster, but I think if Dean really needed it, she'd take care of him. She might not if he doesn't ask. She's hardly going to just volunteer it. But she would... if he wanted it. And needed it. I mean, she didn't have to give him her sofa, did she?"
Sam looked over her face. "Why wouldn't you be? Do nurses really stop when they're off the clock?" he asked. He kicked his toe against some of the pebbles under his feet, trying to figure out just how Dean was. "It's been intense. I don't know if he's really okay, though, even if he's saying he is. It'd just be nice if someone gave a damn enough to want to help him, even if he protested. Usually chicks just back off when he puts up a fight and pushes them away. But I guess that means they're not worth it. We'll be gone soon, though. If she doesn't mind the temporary thing. I dunno. It's just hard to think about anything right now. What we did before... not sure it's even still possible anymore. We haven't talked much about it."
"Because I'm confessing all this crap, and you're trying to be nice about it. It's not exactly very nursely, or professional. And no, I don't think we do stop. We can't help ourselves." Ailbe still held onto his hand, and started to brush her thumb over the back of it again soothingly. "You know you deserve the same thing too, don't you? I'm just saying... It sounds like you could both use a little TLC. And to not be so afraid to get it. It's those other girls' losses for being brushed off so easily. I don't think Jo would be if she knew he was worth the time. What did you do before?"
Sam's forehead creased in confusion. "I'm not trying to be anything. I'm just being honest. As honest as I can be without talking more to Dean." He shook his head just a little, though he wasn't exactly disagreeing with her. It was just more a helpless gesture than anything else as he bit on the corner of his lip. "I had it. She was murdered. Then it was gone. We were sort of... investigators. Just not of crimes or criminals. Stuff out of the cops' control."
Her lips pressed together as she sat there quietly, trying to get her head around it all. He investigated things out of the cops' control, and carried fake FBI badges. Ailbe couldn't help wondering if maybe Jo had a point about them being criminals, or something, but Sam was being honest with her as far as she could tell. At least as much as he was able to, just like he said. She respected the fact he wanted to talk to his brother about it all, and after a moment she held up her free hand. "You don't need to tell me more. I'm sorry you lost the TLC, and you're worried if someone else tries you'll lose them as well. But I'm still here, aren't I? I've been looking after you for a while now. It's okay, though. You don't need to tell me everything now. You don't even need to tell me anything if you don't want to." She looked down at their hands, and took a deep breath. Her heart was thundering in her chest for a reason best known to itself, like she was working up to something big, but her mind hadn't decided what yet. She glanced up into his eyes, and smiled softly. Before she actually clicked to what she was doing, Ailbe leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to Sam's lips. It was brief, and gentle, a show of affection that she had apparently needed to express. Her cheeks were flaming red by the time she pulled back, and she couldn't meet his gaze again as she cursed under her breath. "Sorry."
Word Count | 4,669
Grey's Anatomy
Co-written with makeoutalright
Sam couldn't help feeling like a big idiot as he got wheeled through the hospital towards some garden or courtyard or the like that existed on the other side to the ward he was saying it. He had the use of his legs! He wasn't an invalid! But apparently it was hospital policy for patients who had been seriously ill to be wheeled out - or around - if they had to be on the move. At first, Sam wasn't even quite sure why he was going anywhere. Ailbe told him he was looking peaky, like he could use some 'fresh air'. Simon, who had been watching a Tomb Raider marathon on the TV, just sniggered when he heard this and earned a Death Glare from Ailbe. It all went over Sam's head, but then, Sam's head wasn't the most reliable of things right now.
He agreed to go with her, though, after her manager said it was fine and even agreed Sam looked like he could use some sun. Sun, fresh air, what the hell was this? Pick on Sam Day? He was in a slightly pouty mood by the time they reached the garden area. Other patients were there with their family members, but Sam was the only one with a nurse. Technically Ailbe was at the end of her shift, though, so he wasn't even sure it still counted. The night before, he had very little sleep again. In an odd way, it was somewhat comforting that Simon was in the same boat. The poor guy had these waves of pain now and again, much worse than Sam's, which was just confined to his head. Simon's was all over, and this time, Sam actually had a distraction from his nightmares when he got out of bed and went to sit beside Simon. They discussed Simpson's episodes, and then which Victoria Secret model had the best tits, only Sam had no clue about any of the more recent ones Simon was talking about. Simon's voice had been strained with the pain, but he reached the max on his painkillers. Sam must've sat there for hours, the two injured men swapping stories about their older siblings when they were kids. Sam was amused to hear that Simon's older sister sounded a lot like Dean in many ways. They both seemed to have that fierce protectiveness, even if they couldn't always be there to make sure their kid brothers were okay. He knew Dean felt guilty, he got the restless awkward look on his face more often than not, but Sam didn't know how he could convince Dean that it was okay. It wasn't like he was dead, was it? And the Hell, thing, well, he doubted Satan would've let Dean out on a day pass.
The Satan and Hell thing wasn't anything Sam was ready to think about yet, though. It was obvious that in the apparent three year gap in his memory, a lot of shit had gone down. Sam knew Dean didn't want to talk about it, and at the same time, Sam didn't want to know about it. Between them, the piles of delusion were astounding. But right now, he was tired and a bit cranky that people kept telling him he looked like shit. Of course he looked like shit! People in hospital tended to do that. Simon looked like shit, too, but he had more people telling him he was cute than anything else. The male - and very gay - cleaner seemed to have a crush on the stunt driver, to which Simon told him he would definitely have a crack at him if he wasn't as straight as a cock on Viagra. Sam nearly snorted Diet Coke all over himself at that comment. Especially when the guy returned with telling Simon to give him a call if he ever woke up batting for the other team. At some point, Sam realised that he enjoyed having a room mate. That coupled with Dean coming back, his spirits had lifted distinctly. Now if only he could manage to sleep without aid, and stop the pain in his head.
As soon as they were in the main part of the courtyard, Sam kicked the footrests away and stood up, not willing to stay in the damn thing any longer than he had to. He stretched, pushing his hands up above his head and then scratching his stomach where his t-shirt rode up. It was an old Metallica t-shirt Dean had brought for him. Sam had asked his brother to bring him some 'stuff' but evidently Dean wasn't particularly well-versed in what 'stuff' was appropriate. It wasn't any stuff Sam recognised, and none of it was new. But he didn't ask. Anything was better than the hospital gowns. Dean wasn't around today, and had told Sam he wouldn't be until later. He still hadn't found the Impala, so Sam assumed that's where he was disappearing, even if Dean told him when asked that he was 'Going to London to see the Queen'. Sam called him a jerk, Dean retaliated by calling him a bitch. Same ol', same ol'. "Why am I hear here?" Sam finally asked, turning around to Ailbe and squinting in the bright sunlight. Shade. He needed shade, not bloody sun.
Ailbe blinked behind her glasses, her blue eyes having been firmly fixed on the strip of tan skin exposed when Jimmy had stretched, and started scratching. She couldn't help it. Every moment in his presence was just another nail in the coffin as far as she was concerned. She was doomed. Too in lust to realise that she needed to keep it all as a purely professional relationship. Nurse and patient. Nothing more. Only now she was in jeans, a tank top, and cardigan - her plain clothes. The glasses were on in replacement of her contacts that she wore most days, and her long, dark hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders, not pulled back in a ponytail, or bun like when she was in her scrubs.
Between Jo talking to her in the cafeteria, and Simon giving her the same kind of nudge, she had no choice but to talk to Jimmy. Only when she went to say something, she just squeaked, and blushed, and gripped the wheelchair tighter as she stayed behind it to use it as a shield for a moment. Her stomach had tied itself in knots, and she'd be lying if she didn't admit to being distracted most of the day worrying about 'The Talk'. She bit on her lip, and moved from behind the wheelchair to take Jimmy's hand gently and lead him to a bench under the shade of a tree. The squinting hadn't been lost on her, and even now she was still looking after him. It was a hard habit to shake, and not just because she was his nurse. She cared about Jimmy, or whatever his name was. "I wanted to see you as me," she eventually told him, her eyes flicking up to meet his. She was still hanging onto his hand, and now her thumb was rubbing back and forth across the back of it. A tiny thrill was going up her spine with a knowledge that she was holding his hand, and she wanted to kick herself for being such a schoolgirl about it. "Not as your nurse, as just... Ailbe," she tried to clarify.
Sam was still frowning a little from the sun as his eyes adjusted to the softer light under the tree. Thank god for trees. The last thing he needed was another headache. It was just a faint discomfort now, but he could deal with that. He just really wasn't following her train of thought. He looked down at her, blinking himself. "Okay..." he said hesitantly and cleared his throat, holding his hand up in confusion. "But you are my nurse," he had to add. "That's why you're here. So my eyeball or brain doesn't explode when I use my feet... or something." He watched her closely. "Right?"
Ailbe drew her eyebrows together as she stuck her tongue out a little at the images he was making her imagine with his words, as she shook her head. "Well, not right now. Right now I'm just me. And I'm still your nurse. Just I'm off the clock, and I'm here as someone that likes you." She was still watching him, not sure if she was making sense. Even to her own ears it was sounding like complete nonsense. She may as well have been sitting here talking in Japanese. Assuming he didn't know Japanese. "I wanted a chance to just be able to get to know you, Jimmy."
"You didn't like me before?" Sam asked with a small laugh. He spotted a bench nearby and sat down on it. He was still tired and weak, but it wasn't something he enjoyed admitting to himself, let alone anyone else. He guessed now that was why the wheelchair was in play. If he had to walk from the ward to here, he would probably be exhausted by now. "I... I'm not really following. You just gotta humour me a little. I wasn't even following episodes of The Simpsons this morning, and I've seen them loads of times. Is this some sort of therapy? They did tell me they might try to thrust that on me at some point. Post-trauma therapy. Odd, considering I can't even remember the trauma."
Ailbe sat down beside him, finally giving Jimmy his hand back as she clasped hers in her lap to stop her from fiddling. "No, no therapy. I really am off the clock right now." She let out a soft sigh as she frowned, worried she was making a huge mistake trying to talk to Jimmy. He was suffering from amnesia, and nightmares. How did she think he would be able to handle some chick telling her she liked him? "And of course I liked you before, but I like like you. As more than a patient. I know you don't remember the trauma, but there's still working through the fact that you can't remember it. I know it sounds weird, but it's true. You still have to deal with the fact you can't remember things, and the emotional frustration that comes with that. It's really not why I'm here, though."
Sam put his hand up and rubbed his fingers through the back of his hair. He didn't know what to say at first, floundering just a little. His conversation with Dean jumped back into his mind and he wet his lips. "I-uh... is that even allowed?" he asked, glancing around at anyone who might be nearby and listening in case she got in trouble. He gave a small shrug of his shoulder. "I didn't even realise I had amnesia until my brother got here. Not like this anyway. Can't remember loads more than I thought. Dean was away in H-ah... prison. He's innocent, though. Took the... um... fall for... someone else." Shit, fuck, goddamnit! His lying skills were stuffed. His brain was struggling coming up with decent cover stories. This could get dangerous.
Ailbe couldn't help it as her eyebrows went up. "Prison? Oh my god... I mean, wow. I'm sorry. I didn't realise... And I guess you didn't realise you'd forgotten. If he's innocent though, that would have just been hard. Stuck in a place like that and knowing you don't deserve it. Gotta be some friend he took the fall for." She had managed to keep the subject changed briefly before she wet her lips and looked down at her hands. "It's... well, it's not allowed as such. They can't do anything about the me liking you thing, but clearly if I try and jump your bones here and now we'd have issues. I'm not asking for you to even return my feelings. I know it's weird, and it's probably something you really don't need, and I'm sorry, but I just... I... I don't even know what I'm trying to do. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."
"Yeah... some friend..." Sam glanced away at a vine-covered wall, though he was unseeing to the view. If what Dean had said was accurate - and there was no reason for it not to be - Sam was the reason Dean was in Hell. Dean gave his soul to save Sam's life. It wasn't right, and Sam hated the thought of it. What had gotten so horrible that Dean needed to give his soul to save his life? He rested his hand behind his neck and looked back at her. "You don't need to be liking someone like me. You'll only get hurt."
Ailbe had been looking at Jimmy, watching him get that faraway look again. She wanted to ask him what was on his mind, but knew he probably wouldn't tell her. No doubt finding out your brother was in prison was enough to give anyone food for thought. "Why?" she asked him softly, tilting her head as she tried to hold his gaze. "You don't seem so bad to me."
"Sometimes just being in a bad situation can make someone bad by default. People get hurt. People close to me. I don't want that anymore. I don't even... Dean and I, we move around a lot." Sam sat back and stretched his legs out in front of him. It was irrelevant if he found her attractive or anything like that. She had helped him when no one else was there, and he would be eternally grateful for that. But he couldn't deal with another scenario like Jess all over again. What if that thing that got her wanted to get anyone he was with? Anyone a Winchester guy was with?
"Oh." Ailbe looked crestfallen. She didn't even have enough energy to try and hide it. It was the end of her shift, and she was just tired. She should have been getting home to bed, but she really had wanted to spend some proper time with Sam. Now she just felt like she was intruding. "That's... That's okay. I wasn't asking you if... It's fine. I get it. I don't want to get in your way, or be someone you need to worry about. I just heard that maybe you were staying in New York for a bit. I'll just, um, stick to being your nurse."
Sam's forehead creased and he looked at her apologetically. "I'm really sorry..." he offered helplessly, feeling guilty for making her feel like whatever she was. He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. "What were you asking me, then?" he soon added, glancing back up at her. "I don't really know what's going on. I need to leave it up to Dean to call the shots. He... knows what's been going on more than I do. Apparently I had his car, too. Lost it. I can't remember where I left it."
Ailbe tucked some of her hair behind her ear as she gave a shake of her head. "It's fine," she repeated, even if she felt like she wanted to burst into tears. She really shouldn't have tried to do this after such a long day. She was already on edge, and worrying about talking to Jimmy had pushed her over. "I wasn't trying to assume I'd automatically be close to you, but I guess even if we do get to know each other I'll just hold you back. Friends, or more... Probably wouldn't matter. You lost his car? I'm guessing he must really love it. I'm sorry, Jimmy. I know it's hard having these gaps you didn't even realise were there."
"You don't even know me," Sam murmured. There was no accusation in his tone, just slight awe. "I don't know even really know me... I just... we just... there's a reason we're both pushing thirty and single. Well, Dean is, I'm not that old. Older than I thought I was, but he'll hit the false teeth before I do. Things are... fuck," he swore softly to himself, shaking his head slightly. "My girlfriend was killed. Not... recently, just left some fears, I guess. She died the same way our Mom did. His car is his pride and joy. I was more stunned I even had it than the fact I lost it. I usually have to blackmail him to get the keys."
"If he was in prison, it wasn't like he was going to be able to drive it. You're his brother. At the end of the day, he trusts you with what matters." Ailbe couldn't help herself as she reached out to rest her hand on top of his. "I'm trying to get to know you. That was my point. It just got lost under the stupid blurting out of stuff. I still like you enough to want to get to know you. And honestly? I want to be able to prove you wrong, and be someone that could stick it all out, and last. I'm sorry about your girlfriend, and your mother. I really am."
Sam gave a small smirk and shook his head. "He doesn't always trust me. I don't always give him reason to." He sighed, putting his free hand up to rub his eyes. "You're just better not knowing me. I'm part of the reason my Mom and my girlfriend died. Of why Dean was in prison. It's... complicated. Very, very complicated. I don't remember a lot, but there is a lot I do remember, too. The stuff I don't remember just... I can't even begin to fathom it after what I do. Which probably hardly even makes sense, but I just... how can you even say you want to stick it out and last when you don't even know what it all is?"
Ailbe gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Because I want to at least be given a chance to try. I don't know what it is about you, but ever since you came into the hospital, you've slowly just been driving me crazy. I also want to ask you a question, and you can tell me to fuck off, or whatever, but maybe it'll at least be a small test of whether, or not I can handle it. It'll also mean telling you something, and I apologise in advance. Sometimes we just need to be able to talk about stuff with people, no matter how complicated," she said as she repeated something Simon had told her. "I'm not your brother. I don't know the whole story, but I want to know your side."
Sam pressed his lips together. Did he even have the heart to tell her he couldn't tell her his side? At least, not the whole of it. He knew she had already been upset when he rejected her advances, or whatever the hell it was he had done to make her feel stupid. Sometimes they were able to let people in on what they did and why they did it, but until he knew what the lay of the land was, it was just dangerous to get her involved. Right? He knew he would have to tell Dean about this, he just had no idea what his brother would say. "What do you need to ask me?" he asked warily. It sounded intense, like maybe it was so intense there was a high chance he wouldn't answer anyway.
Ailbe was trying not to let her leg bounce as the nerves built up. It was a habit she still had when things were really bad, and she figured being knocked back by Jimmy, and then still having a conversation with him constituted as bad. She was already planning on having a drink, or two, when she got home. Somehow she was going to need to forget all about her stupid crush so things weren't weird when she was just his nurse again. "What's your real name?"
Sam looked back at her calmly, shrugging a little as he cleared his throat. "Sam. Sam Winchester," he replied without hesitation, offering her a hint of a smile. "No one ever asked."
Ailbe managed a smile, and offered him her hand. "Nice to meet you, Sam Winchester. And I don't think anyone ever thought to ask. Just took your ID as gospel. It was only because of something Jo said that I'm asking."
Sam did manage to look innocent, despite being sprung to the contrary. "We sort of rely on people not asking. In my own defence, though, when I first woke up, I did think I was this Jimmy person because you were all calling me that. But when I started to get better, I knew who I was. I was just highly aware I was alone and a little afraid of what was going on because Dean wasn't there. I had to do what I did to try and protect myself. Jo? Simon's sister, right? I haven't met her."
Ailbe dropped her hand when he didn't take it, and folded them back up in her lap. Her leg was really starting to bounce now, even if she was relieved that Sam had revealed his name. She at least knew that, even if she didn't know anything else. "Sam suits you better. I had trouble seeing you as a Jimmy," she revealed. "Yeah, that's her. You'll meet her soon enough. She's never very far from him. Apparently she's offered your brother a place to stay while he figures out something for you two. You did what you had to, and I get that. I promise I won't tell anyone."
Sam shot her an apologetic look and reached over to take her hand, holding it and letting their joined hands rest on his thigh. "Bear with me, okay? I'm not myself lately. I'm not deliberately trying to make you feel bad. It's just hard to keep my brain functioning at a normal level right now. I'm not a jerk," he told her, trying to get her to understand. "Blame Dean for the Jimmy thing. It was just something we needed to not be us for. At least, I think it was. I can't specifically remember it clearly." His eyebrows rose. "Dean's staying with Simon's sister? Jesus, did she drug him to get him to agree? No. Wait. She slept with him, didn't she?" he deduced.
Ailbe returned his look with a guilty one. She wasn't trying to make him feel obligated into showing her any kindness. He didn't owe her a thing. She really did just want to run away, and forget she'd tried to have this conversation, but then he had her hand again, and she was frozen to the bench. "I am, I promise. I just don't want to pressure you. I wasn't trying to make you do anything, or say anything... I'm sorry. It's hard for you, and I'm just making it all harder. Yeah, he is. And yes, she did," Ailbe admitted with a blush. "But you can't say anything! At least, I don't think you can. I'm not sure if Simon knows. She says he's been sleeping a lot."
"Yeah, it is hard. Which is why I appreciate all your help. It's harder alone," Sam pointed out. He nodded with a small frown. "Yeah, I noticed that. But he's, um... he went through a lot in... prison. He's probably just run down, but he won't admit it. Do you know? Will she... I dunno, take care of him? He wouldn't admit to needing that, either, but he doesn't let anyone take care of him, I think he probably needs it some now, you know?"
"You still sure I'm helping?" she asked with a slight laugh. "I can't even imagine what it must have been like for him. I'd probably sleep a lot, too. Jo? Well, she can be a bit of a ball buster, but I think if Dean really needed it, she'd take care of him. She might not if he doesn't ask. She's hardly going to just volunteer it. But she would... if he wanted it. And needed it. I mean, she didn't have to give him her sofa, did she?"
Sam looked over her face. "Why wouldn't you be? Do nurses really stop when they're off the clock?" he asked. He kicked his toe against some of the pebbles under his feet, trying to figure out just how Dean was. "It's been intense. I don't know if he's really okay, though, even if he's saying he is. It'd just be nice if someone gave a damn enough to want to help him, even if he protested. Usually chicks just back off when he puts up a fight and pushes them away. But I guess that means they're not worth it. We'll be gone soon, though. If she doesn't mind the temporary thing. I dunno. It's just hard to think about anything right now. What we did before... not sure it's even still possible anymore. We haven't talked much about it."
"Because I'm confessing all this crap, and you're trying to be nice about it. It's not exactly very nursely, or professional. And no, I don't think we do stop. We can't help ourselves." Ailbe still held onto his hand, and started to brush her thumb over the back of it again soothingly. "You know you deserve the same thing too, don't you? I'm just saying... It sounds like you could both use a little TLC. And to not be so afraid to get it. It's those other girls' losses for being brushed off so easily. I don't think Jo would be if she knew he was worth the time. What did you do before?"
Sam's forehead creased in confusion. "I'm not trying to be anything. I'm just being honest. As honest as I can be without talking more to Dean." He shook his head just a little, though he wasn't exactly disagreeing with her. It was just more a helpless gesture than anything else as he bit on the corner of his lip. "I had it. She was murdered. Then it was gone. We were sort of... investigators. Just not of crimes or criminals. Stuff out of the cops' control."
Her lips pressed together as she sat there quietly, trying to get her head around it all. He investigated things out of the cops' control, and carried fake FBI badges. Ailbe couldn't help wondering if maybe Jo had a point about them being criminals, or something, but Sam was being honest with her as far as she could tell. At least as much as he was able to, just like he said. She respected the fact he wanted to talk to his brother about it all, and after a moment she held up her free hand. "You don't need to tell me more. I'm sorry you lost the TLC, and you're worried if someone else tries you'll lose them as well. But I'm still here, aren't I? I've been looking after you for a while now. It's okay, though. You don't need to tell me everything now. You don't even need to tell me anything if you don't want to." She looked down at their hands, and took a deep breath. Her heart was thundering in her chest for a reason best known to itself, like she was working up to something big, but her mind hadn't decided what yet. She glanced up into his eyes, and smiled softly. Before she actually clicked to what she was doing, Ailbe leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to Sam's lips. It was brief, and gentle, a show of affection that she had apparently needed to express. Her cheeks were flaming red by the time she pulled back, and she couldn't meet his gaze again as she cursed under her breath. "Sorry."
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