part 4 As soon as Sam let go of the digit, he saw what had caused his brother so much pain and he felt bad all at once for mocking him. The nail was split down the center, embedded into the nail bed and it bled profusely onto the carpet. It was already swelling and Sam hissed in a sharp breath the moment Dean touched the toe, trying to assess the damage.
“Yeah - I think it’s broken alright.” Dean stated the obvious.
“No shit.” Sam snapped back, grabbing the towel next to him and covering his unmentionables.
“Okay … don’t worry. I’ll tape it up and splint it to your other toe and it’ll be just fine.” Dean got up and searched around for the supplies he needed, finding them scattered across the room, then got to work cleaning the blood from Sam’s toe and telling his little brother not to be a baby as he squirmed under his ministrations. Soon he had the toe wrapped in enough gauze and tape to keep it immobile.
“There - boo-boo’s fixed, Sammy. Need me to kiss it and make it better?”
Sam flipped him the bird.
“That’s the spirit.” Dean said as he grabbed his brother by the bicep and helped him from the mess on the floor, he then guided him back to his bed where Sam sat down wearily then flopped onto his back.
Dean saw him shiver, so he tossed him his duffel. Sam didn’t even try to catch it before it hit him smack dab in the face. “Jeez - Jerk.”
“Put on some clothes, dumbass.” Dean grumbled and shook his head as righted the fallen table then started to pick up the supplies and drop them into the fallen med-kit.
“What’s up with you? You haven’t been this klutzy since you were a teenager. You sure you’re still not cursed by that damned rabbit’s foot?”
Sam didn’t answer, he was too busy watching the ceiling spin above him and focusing on not giving into to the coughing fit that was trying to work its way from his raw throat. His headache pounded with a renewed vengeance, his shoulder ached, his knees throbbed and now his toe …
He felt truly awful.
Yeah - he was cursed - but that been established well before they encountered that rabbit’s foot.
Part 5 Dean finished picking up what med supplies he could from the floor, leaving a few cotton balls to stay where they had fallen then turned again towards his brother. The poor kid looked like he’d been used as a punching bag - his face still held the hallmarks of the beating he had taken, he had bandages on his knees, his shoulder, and now his toe. He looked miserably pathetic as he lay on the bed shivering, coughing harshly, sniffling, and making no move to get anything on other than the towel wrapped around his waist. Dean suddenly had an overwhelming urge to wrap him up in a nest of blankets, feed him chicken soup and read him a bed-time story like he had when they were kids and Sam wasn’t feeling well.
However, being grown men made that difficult and Sam had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be treated like a kid, but that didn’t mean Dean couldn’t still fuss over him and make sure he was comfortable at the very least. He crossed the room and approached Sam then noticed that his brother had closed his eyes and appeared to have fallen asleep horizontally across the bed with his long legs dangling over the edge.
Dean noticed then the flush in his brother’s cheeks and how pale the rest of his skin was, so he reached out and placed his palm across his forehead. He was quite hot to the touch and while Dean couldn’t tell how high the fever was in degrees, he knew it was high enough for him to worry.
Sam opened his eyes and batted Dean’s hand away weakly, “Stop it. I’m fine.”
“Yeah right - that’s why you’re lying here half-naked,” Dean grumbled without any heat as he reached for Sam’s duffel bag and fished inside for a pair of underwear and some sweats, “C’mon - let’s get some clothes on ya and get you in bed.”
Dean started to help Sam get his clothes on, but his little brother protested, “I can put my own clothes on,” He mumbled through his congested nose, standing up to pull his underwear up. However, as soon as he stood, Dean saw every bit of color drain from Sam’s face and he just able to catch him before he went down like a felled tree.
“Whoa … you proved your point - you’re a real Chuck Norris, Sammy. C’mon - just lay down, will ya?”
Sam’s head flopped forward so his bangs fell into his eyes, but he nodded and allowed Dean to guide him back to the bed and start tucking the blankets over him. He felt like a little kid again being hovered over like that, but he couldn’t deny that he secretly liked having Dean taking care of him - not that he enjoyed being sick, but there was something about knowing he was worthy of his big brother’s protection that gave him a soft, warm, fuzzy feeling inside. Sam snuggled into the blankets, pulling them tight around him as he rolled onto his good shoulder and shivered through another chill. A moment later, Sam found a glass of water and two Advil being shoved into his face.
“Sit up and take this,” Dean insisted. Sam groaned as he made his way up to a sitting position and obediently swallowed the pills and chased them down with a gulp of water.
“Drink the whole thing.” Dean ordered, “You need to keep hydrated.”
Sam drank the rest of the water and it felt good on his scratchy throat, but secretly he wished it was juice instead -- he always preferred that over water when he was ill. As soon as he was done, Dean took the glass from him and gently pushed Sam back into his pillow before draping the blankets over him again. Seconds later, Sam was out like a light, snoring softly through his stuffy nose.
He woke up sometime later with no clue as to how long he had been asleep, but when he looked to the nightstand to find out what time it was from the clock, he saw a big bottle of apple juice, a box of tissues, sore throat lozenges, a box of decongestants, and a still steaming container of hot soup.
Sam grinned - maybe he didn’t have the best luck the last few days, but he had Dean, and maybe that made him the most fortunate person on the planet.
I love you so much for writing this!! Sam is really having an awful day, isn't he? I love that Dean went from laughing at him to taking care of him, and that Sam secretly likes Dean taking care of him. And that last line is perfection ♥
As soon as Sam let go of the digit, he saw what had caused his brother so much pain and he felt bad all at once for mocking him. The nail was split down the center, embedded into the nail bed and it bled profusely onto the carpet. It was already swelling and Sam hissed in a sharp breath the moment Dean touched the toe, trying to assess the damage.
“Yeah - I think it’s broken alright.” Dean stated the obvious.
“No shit.” Sam snapped back, grabbing the towel next to him and covering his unmentionables.
“Okay … don’t worry. I’ll tape it up and splint it to your other toe and it’ll be just fine.”
Dean got up and searched around for the supplies he needed, finding them scattered across the room, then got to work cleaning the blood from Sam’s toe and telling his little brother not to be a baby as he squirmed under his ministrations. Soon he had the toe wrapped in enough gauze and tape to keep it immobile.
“There - boo-boo’s fixed, Sammy. Need me to kiss it and make it better?”
Sam flipped him the bird.
“That’s the spirit.” Dean said as he grabbed his brother by the bicep and helped him from the mess on the floor, he then guided him back to his bed where Sam sat down wearily then flopped onto his back.
Dean saw him shiver, so he tossed him his duffel. Sam didn’t even try to catch it before it hit him smack dab in the face. “Jeez - Jerk.”
“Put on some clothes, dumbass.” Dean grumbled and shook his head as righted the fallen table then started to pick up the supplies and drop them into the fallen med-kit.
“What’s up with you? You haven’t been this klutzy since you were a teenager. You sure you’re still not cursed by that damned rabbit’s foot?”
Sam didn’t answer, he was too busy watching the ceiling spin above him and focusing on not giving into to the coughing fit that was trying to work its way from his raw throat. His headache pounded with a renewed vengeance, his shoulder ached, his knees throbbed and now his toe …
He felt truly awful.
Yeah - he was cursed - but that been established well before they encountered that rabbit’s foot.
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Dean finished picking up what med supplies he could from the floor, leaving a few cotton balls to stay where they had fallen then turned again towards his brother. The poor kid looked like he’d been used as a punching bag - his face still held the hallmarks of the beating he had taken, he had bandages on his knees, his shoulder, and now his toe. He looked miserably pathetic as he lay on the bed shivering, coughing harshly, sniffling, and making no move to get anything on other than the towel wrapped around his waist. Dean suddenly had an overwhelming urge to wrap him up in a nest of blankets, feed him chicken soup and read him a bed-time story like he had when they were kids and Sam wasn’t feeling well.
However, being grown men made that difficult and Sam had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be treated like a kid, but that didn’t mean Dean couldn’t still fuss over him and make sure he was comfortable at the very least. He crossed the room and approached Sam then noticed that his brother had closed his eyes and appeared to have fallen asleep horizontally across the bed with his long legs dangling over the edge.
Dean noticed then the flush in his brother’s cheeks and how pale the rest of his skin was, so he reached out and placed his palm across his forehead. He was quite hot to the touch and while Dean couldn’t tell how high the fever was in degrees, he knew it was high enough for him to worry.
Sam opened his eyes and batted Dean’s hand away weakly, “Stop it. I’m fine.”
“Yeah right - that’s why you’re lying here half-naked,” Dean grumbled without any heat as he reached for Sam’s duffel bag and fished inside for a pair of underwear and some sweats, “C’mon - let’s get some clothes on ya and get you in bed.”
Dean started to help Sam get his clothes on, but his little brother protested, “I can put my own clothes on,” He mumbled through his congested nose, standing up to pull his underwear up. However, as soon as he stood, Dean saw every bit of color drain from Sam’s face and he just able to catch him before he went down like a felled tree.
“Whoa … you proved your point - you’re a real Chuck Norris, Sammy. C’mon - just lay down, will ya?”
Sam’s head flopped forward so his bangs fell into his eyes, but he nodded and allowed Dean to guide him back to the bed and start tucking the blankets over him. He felt like a little kid again being hovered over like that, but he couldn’t deny that he secretly liked having Dean taking care of him - not that he enjoyed being sick, but there was something about knowing he was worthy of his big brother’s protection that gave him a soft, warm, fuzzy feeling inside.
Sam snuggled into the blankets, pulling them tight around him as he rolled onto his good shoulder and shivered through another chill. A moment later, Sam found a glass of water and two Advil being shoved into his face.
“Sit up and take this,” Dean insisted. Sam groaned as he made his way up to a sitting position and obediently swallowed the pills and chased them down with a gulp of water.
“Drink the whole thing.” Dean ordered, “You need to keep hydrated.”
Sam drank the rest of the water and it felt good on his scratchy throat, but secretly he wished it was juice instead -- he always preferred that over water when he was ill.
As soon as he was done, Dean took the glass from him and gently pushed Sam back into his pillow before draping the blankets over him again. Seconds later, Sam was out like a light, snoring softly through his stuffy nose.
He woke up sometime later with no clue as to how long he had been asleep, but when he looked to the nightstand to find out what time it was from the clock, he saw a big bottle of apple juice, a box of tissues, sore throat lozenges, a box of decongestants, and a still steaming container of hot soup.
Sam grinned - maybe he didn’t have the best luck the last few days, but he had Dean, and maybe that made him the most fortunate person on the planet.
The End
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I love you so much for writing this!! Sam is really having an awful day, isn't he? I love that Dean went from laughing at him to taking care of him, and that Sam secretly likes Dean taking care of him. And that last line is perfection ♥
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Great job.
♥
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