FILLED: He Takes What He Can Get (gen) 1/2i_speak_tongueOctober 9 2011, 14:36:28 UTC
(LIES! It's only 2 parts)
Bobby nods as Sam hands him a piece of linen that he's folded with military precision into a triangle about two feet long. "Yup. And I'm sick of playing English Patient with you boys."
Sam slips his hand under Dean's elbow, another at the back of his shoulder, brushing Dean's good arm aside, and Dean stares out the smudged window beside him like like he's looking for something. Or someone. It's pitch black out.
"Got a protection spell somewhere up here," Bobby says, lacing the sling gently under Dean's arm. "Pretty sure it'll throw them off our scent."
He reaches around Dean's neck to tie it off, and Dean flinches when Sam pushes him forward a little and he holds back a gasp.
Sam looks at Bobby and frowns, shakes his head, and Bobby tries to speed things up. Dean's in more pain than he's letting on, as usual.
"Almost done..." Bobby says then nods to Sam and Sam lets Dean lean back again.
"How's that feel?" Bobby asks, adjusts the edge of the fabric so it's smooth against Dean's forearm. Sam scoops Dean's medication and a water bottle off the floor, works on opening both.
"Better," Dean says, staring down at Bobby's hands as they fuss over him.
"Good. Dislocated elbow's a new one for me," Bobby says.
"Yeah," Dean says, and throws back the pills Sam's handed him. "Me too."
Sam offers him water, and an apology. "I'm sorry, Dean."
"Okay," is all Dean says to that, blinking straight ahead into endless stacks of research, jaw tightening like a socket-wrench to hold back something much more pointed. He takes a slug from the water bottle and holds it back out.
Sam screws the cap back on, places it back on the floor and doesn't say a word. The drugs grant Dean sleep not long afterward, but Sam stays up and claws his way through every book Bobby tosses him, determined to find a way to protect them from the Leviathans. To protect Dean. And when they do, and it's 5 am and Bobby's drawing strange patterns on the floor and chanting over lava rocks, Sam takes up sentry at Dean's bedside.
Dean wakes up groggy and stiff with pain, too many hours passed since his last dosage.
"Scared me, Sammy," he mutters, mid-way through a wave of anguish, eyes squeezed shut to keep a handle on it.
"I know," Sam tells him, pressing a couple of pills into Dean's palm. "I'm here now, though. That's all I've got, man."
Dean breathes like he's about to dive off a lifeboat. He nods, and swallows his medicine.
Re: FILLED: He Takes What He Can Get (gen) 1/2catsintheatticOctober 9 2011, 17:14:08 UTC
Awww - that was lovely! (My first SPN prompt ever and you filled it so fast.) Thank you!
Dean all hurty and trying not to let it show, but Sam and Bobby saw right through him. I'm pretty glad that Dean didn't fight with Sam over Sam taking off like he did, but simply accepted the comfort and care. Though it says a lot about the state he must be in, the poor dear.
Re: FILLED: He Takes What He Can Get (gen) 1/2mad_serverOctober 10 2011, 03:37:35 UTC
I love the image of this tail-end of an all-nighter with Bobby working his professional magic at dawn and Sam watching over Dean. And of course pale Dean and tight-lipped hurting Dean and Bobby seeing through him. Rarrrr.
Bobby nods as Sam hands him a piece of linen that he's folded with military precision into a triangle about two feet long. "Yup. And I'm sick of playing English Patient with you boys."
Sam slips his hand under Dean's elbow, another at the back of his shoulder, brushing Dean's good arm aside, and Dean stares out the smudged window beside him like like he's looking for something. Or someone. It's pitch black out.
"Got a protection spell somewhere up here," Bobby says, lacing the sling gently under Dean's arm. "Pretty sure it'll throw them off our scent."
He reaches around Dean's neck to tie it off, and Dean flinches when Sam pushes him forward a little and he holds back a gasp.
Sam looks at Bobby and frowns, shakes his head, and Bobby tries to speed things up. Dean's in more pain than he's letting on, as usual.
"Almost done..." Bobby says then nods to Sam and Sam lets Dean lean back again.
"How's that feel?" Bobby asks, adjusts the edge of the fabric so it's smooth against Dean's forearm. Sam scoops Dean's medication and a water bottle off the floor, works on opening both.
"Better," Dean says, staring down at Bobby's hands as they fuss over him.
"Good. Dislocated elbow's a new one for me," Bobby says.
"Yeah," Dean says, and throws back the pills Sam's handed him. "Me too."
Sam offers him water, and an apology. "I'm sorry, Dean."
"Okay," is all Dean says to that, blinking straight ahead into endless stacks of research, jaw tightening like a socket-wrench to hold back something much more pointed. He takes a slug from the water bottle and holds it back out.
Sam screws the cap back on, places it back on the floor and doesn't say a word. The drugs grant Dean sleep not long afterward, but Sam stays up and claws his way through every book Bobby tosses him, determined to find a way to protect them from the Leviathans. To protect Dean. And when they do, and it's 5 am and Bobby's drawing strange patterns on the floor and chanting over lava rocks, Sam takes up sentry at Dean's bedside.
Dean wakes up groggy and stiff with pain, too many hours passed since his last dosage.
"Scared me, Sammy," he mutters, mid-way through a wave of anguish, eyes squeezed shut to keep a handle on it.
"I know," Sam tells him, pressing a couple of pills into Dean's palm. "I'm here now, though. That's all I've got, man."
Dean breathes like he's about to dive off a lifeboat. He nods, and swallows his medicine.
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So sad, and so good. LOVE IT.
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Dean all hurty and trying not to let it show, but Sam and Bobby saw right through him. I'm pretty glad that Dean didn't fight with Sam over Sam taking off like he did, but simply accepted the comfort and care. Though it says a lot about the state he must be in, the poor dear.
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Great fic, and that line really drove it home.
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