FILLED Jefferson Starship (3/4)dontknowmynameJanuary 25 2019, 03:11:28 UTC
“But the vics had vamp bites, Sam.” Maybe he shouldn’t be arguing, but this just wasn’t making sense.
“Had fangs too,” Sam’s eyes started to drift closed again so Dean taped his cheek.
“Sam,” he figured it was a good idea to keep Sam talking until he could formulate a plan. “What else can you tell me?”
“He said h-he was one of a k-kind thanks to us.” Sam started to lift his hand to his abdomen, but dean quickly intercepted it, locking his fingers around Sam’s wrist.
“I don’t recall a monster with spikes and fa-,” Dean’s eyes went wide and he whispered, “Jefferson Starship.”
“The band?” Sam questioned. “Not s-seeing the connection here.”
Dean shook his head, “We found them back in Oregon. Eve’s monsters.”
“Cas killed them all,” Sam argued.
“I’m thinking he missed one.” Dean took a closer look at the spike, confirming that it was indeed similar to a wraiths. “Sam, we’re going to need to get this removed.”
“Okay,” Sam nodded in agreement. “Go ahead.”
“No way, Dude,” Dean shook his head vehemently. “I’m not doing this here.”
“Dean,” Sam stared at him with pleading eyes, but Dean managed to stay strong. He wasn’t taking any chances.
Ignoring Sam’s protest, Dean gently helped Sam sit back, careful not to jostle the spike too much. He made sure Sam was steady enough before he stumbled over to his bed and grabbed his phone. As soon as he knelt back down beside Sam, the younger brother shakily reaches out and gripped Dean’s wrist.
Dean stared at his brother, giving him a reassuring smile as he dialed the three digit number that was always a Winchester’s last resort. He stayed close to Sam as he rambled off the important details to the operator. His brother kept the firm grip on his wrist the entire time, only letting go when the paramedics made Dean move aside.
It was a whirl wind of movement. Question after question being asked and luckily Dean knew the answer to most of them, even though his body was running on auto pilot.
“We can’t remove this here,” one of the medics looked from Sam to Dean as he explained the situation. “We’re going to need to keep him upright. You can follow us to the hospital.”
“No,” Dean and Sam shouted at the same time, though Sam’s was more of a breathy whisper.
“I’m going with him,” Dean stated, not leaving any room for argument.
One look at Dean and the Medic knew better than to say a word. He simply nodded as he and his partner carefully helped Sam to his feet. Sam let out a painful cry as he was lifted into a standing position.
“Watch it,” Dean warned, staring daggers at the two men currently helping his brother.
“I’m okay,” Sam smiled tiredly and Dean could tell he was trying to make him feel better, even if it was a terrible attempt.
“Says the shish kabob,” He quickly grabbed his keys from the table as he followed to the ambulance, climbing right in and sitting beside his brother with a uneasy sigh. As soon as he knew Sam really was okay, he’d figure out how to kill the sonuvabitch, but that could wait a bit longer.
“Had fangs too,” Sam’s eyes started to drift closed again so Dean taped his cheek.
“Sam,” he figured it was a good idea to keep Sam talking until he could formulate a plan. “What else can you tell me?”
“He said h-he was one of a k-kind thanks to us.” Sam started to lift his hand to his abdomen, but dean quickly intercepted it, locking his fingers around Sam’s wrist.
“I don’t recall a monster with spikes and fa-,” Dean’s eyes went wide and he whispered, “Jefferson Starship.”
“The band?” Sam questioned. “Not s-seeing the connection here.”
Dean shook his head, “We found them back in Oregon. Eve’s monsters.”
“Cas killed them all,” Sam argued.
“I’m thinking he missed one.” Dean took a closer look at the spike, confirming that it was indeed similar to a wraiths. “Sam, we’re going to need to get this removed.”
“Okay,” Sam nodded in agreement. “Go ahead.”
“No way, Dude,” Dean shook his head vehemently. “I’m not doing this here.”
“Dean,” Sam stared at him with pleading eyes, but Dean managed to stay strong. He wasn’t taking any chances.
Ignoring Sam’s protest, Dean gently helped Sam sit back, careful not to jostle the spike too much. He made sure Sam was steady enough before he stumbled over to his bed and grabbed his phone. As soon as he knelt back down beside Sam, the younger brother shakily reaches out and gripped Dean’s wrist.
Dean stared at his brother, giving him a reassuring smile as he dialed the three digit number that was always a Winchester’s last resort. He stayed close to Sam as he rambled off the important details to the operator. His brother kept the firm grip on his wrist the entire time, only letting go when the paramedics made Dean move aside.
It was a whirl wind of movement. Question after question being asked and luckily Dean knew the answer to most of them, even though his body was running on auto pilot.
“We can’t remove this here,” one of the medics looked from Sam to Dean as he explained the situation. “We’re going to need to keep him upright. You can follow us to the hospital.”
“No,” Dean and Sam shouted at the same time, though Sam’s was more of a breathy whisper.
“I’m going with him,” Dean stated, not leaving any room for argument.
One look at Dean and the Medic knew better than to say a word. He simply nodded as he and his partner carefully helped Sam to his feet. Sam let out a painful cry as he was lifted into a standing position.
“Watch it,” Dean warned, staring daggers at the two men currently helping his brother.
“I’m okay,” Sam smiled tiredly and Dean could tell he was trying to make him feel better, even if it was a terrible attempt.
“Says the shish kabob,” He quickly grabbed his keys from the table as he followed to the ambulance, climbing right in and sitting beside his brother with a uneasy sigh. As soon as he knew Sam really was okay, he’d figure out how to kill the sonuvabitch, but that could wait a bit longer.
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