Just One More Thing 3/4
Authour: jennytork
Word Count: approx. 490
Spoilers: "Devil's Trap" and "In My Time of Dying"
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for the h/c challenge prompt meme. Prompt given by embroiderama. The crash at the end of Devil's Trap left Sam a bit more injured than he let on.
Bobby blinked. He sat across from Sam and asked, "You're sure?"
Sam's eyes trailed to his lips and he snorted softly. "Yeah, I'm sure. Everything's really muffled. It's not completely silent, but I can't hear enough to understand."
Bobby pulled out the notepad from the drawer and wrote, From the crash?
"Must've been. It's been getting worse all day."
Stay here. I'll get your stuff and check you out. Stay here and rest.
Sam nodded and handed Bobby his room key. He nodded his head toward the shower, and Bobby nodded.
When Sam was done, he found his duffel resting on the bed and Bobby not there. The note beside his duffel read:
Gone for supper.
Sam didn't feel much like eating. So he changed into track pants and a t-shirt and slid the duffel off the bed, sliding under the covers.
He faced the door and watched it open. He watched Bobby return and redo the salt lines. He watched Bobby hold up a bag, eyebrows lifting in a silent question.
Sam shook his head and closed his eyes.
He might not be able to hear anything, but Bobby was there with him.
He was safe.
Sam drifted off into a tortured sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Are you out of your damned mind?"
Sam rolled his eyes and pointedly looked away as Bobby kept yelling. Showing he was no longer "listening".
Bobby finally took a breath and tapped Sam's knee. Hard.
When Sam looked back at him, he said one word. Sam began to smile despite himself. "Bobby? Did you just call me an 'idjit'?" At his sharp nod, Sam chuckled.
Bobby grabbed the notepad again. There is no way you'll be able to hide this for long.
"I don't need to hide it for long," Sam countered. "But we just lost Dad. And Dean thinks I'm fine. I-I-.... I can't take that away from him right now. Not yet."
He frowned, watching Bobby's eyes move toward his hip. A second later, he felt an insistent vibration there.
Sam pulled out his phone. "It's Dean." He answered it and immediately hung up. He swiftly texted Dean.
Stupid phone. You ready to go?
After a moment, the reply came. Yeah. You OK?
I'm fine. See you in a few.
Sam smiled as he tucked the phone back into his jeans pocket. "He's ready." He walked out of the room, confident he'd be able to pull this off.
Bobby followed -- not quite as certain.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dean closed the phone and tapped it thoughtfully against his lower lip.
Sammy texting him instead of talking to him? That was strange.
Really strange.
Sam's phone worked fine. Dean had heard it go off earlier in the day and had watched Sammy ignore it.
Why was Sammy now saying it was 'stupid'? Like it wasn't working right?
Or was Sammy somehow not working right?
Why was Sammy lying to him?
Dean was in no mood for guessing games.
Word Count: approx. 490
Spoilers: "Devil's Trap" and "In My Time of Dying"
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for the h/c challenge prompt meme. Prompt given by embroiderama. The crash at the end of Devil's Trap left Sam a bit more injured than he let on.
Bobby blinked. He sat across from Sam and asked, "You're sure?"
Sam's eyes trailed to his lips and he snorted softly. "Yeah, I'm sure. Everything's really muffled. It's not completely silent, but I can't hear enough to understand."
Bobby pulled out the notepad from the drawer and wrote, From the crash?
"Must've been. It's been getting worse all day."
Stay here. I'll get your stuff and check you out. Stay here and rest.
Sam nodded and handed Bobby his room key. He nodded his head toward the shower, and Bobby nodded.
When Sam was done, he found his duffel resting on the bed and Bobby not there. The note beside his duffel read:
Gone for supper.
Sam didn't feel much like eating. So he changed into track pants and a t-shirt and slid the duffel off the bed, sliding under the covers.
He faced the door and watched it open. He watched Bobby return and redo the salt lines. He watched Bobby hold up a bag, eyebrows lifting in a silent question.
Sam shook his head and closed his eyes.
He might not be able to hear anything, but Bobby was there with him.
He was safe.
Sam drifted off into a tortured sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Are you out of your damned mind?"
Sam rolled his eyes and pointedly looked away as Bobby kept yelling. Showing he was no longer "listening".
Bobby finally took a breath and tapped Sam's knee. Hard.
When Sam looked back at him, he said one word. Sam began to smile despite himself. "Bobby? Did you just call me an 'idjit'?" At his sharp nod, Sam chuckled.
Bobby grabbed the notepad again. There is no way you'll be able to hide this for long.
"I don't need to hide it for long," Sam countered. "But we just lost Dad. And Dean thinks I'm fine. I-I-.... I can't take that away from him right now. Not yet."
He frowned, watching Bobby's eyes move toward his hip. A second later, he felt an insistent vibration there.
Sam pulled out his phone. "It's Dean." He answered it and immediately hung up. He swiftly texted Dean.
Stupid phone. You ready to go?
After a moment, the reply came. Yeah. You OK?
I'm fine. See you in a few.
Sam smiled as he tucked the phone back into his jeans pocket. "He's ready." He walked out of the room, confident he'd be able to pull this off.
Bobby followed -- not quite as certain.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dean closed the phone and tapped it thoughtfully against his lower lip.
Sammy texting him instead of talking to him? That was strange.
Really strange.
Sam's phone worked fine. Dean had heard it go off earlier in the day and had watched Sammy ignore it.
Why was Sammy now saying it was 'stupid'? Like it wasn't working right?
Or was Sammy somehow not working right?
Why was Sammy lying to him?
Dean was in no mood for guessing games.