FILLED: UnbalancedpixymisaOctober 9 2011, 23:12:16 UTC
Unbalanced
The bathroom was too far away.
“Hey Sam,” Dean called out. “I have to pee.”
“Then pee,” Sam returned. He didn’t even look up from his book, the little bitch.
“I can’t get up,” Dean replied.
“Improvise.”
“I’ll get right on that. Where’s your coffee cup?”
That actually got a frustrated huff from Sam, and when Dean lifted his head up off the saggy couch cushion again, he saw that his brother had even put his book down. “I’m coming,” he grumbled. “Keep your pants on.”
Sam got up from his seat at the table, six and a half feet of unsteady Sasquatch swaying back and forth. He didn’t look exactly good, but considering what Sam’d been like when they first moved into Rufus’s old safehouse, it was a huge improvement. “Hand me my crutches,” Dean said as he swung his cast off the couch. As soon as it hit the floor, the throbbing started, heavy waves of pain lapping up his leg.
“Hang on,” Sam said. He leaned forward to grab Dean’s arm, to pull him up, but he didn’t get very far. Dean could see it as it happened. The pronounced wobble, the buckle of his knees, and the unsteady forward tilt.
And for some reason, instead of reaching out to catch Sam as he fell, some stupid instinct of Dean’s propelled him forward and up, meeting Sam halfway between a standing position and the couch. The pain shot through his leg at the same instant he realized what he was doing. They went down like a sack of potatoes, arms and legs tangled together, wedged in place by the couch and the coffee table.
“Ow,” Sam said.
Dean was inclined to agree on that point. “You think you can move?”
“Sure,” Sam replied with a grunt, and started to shift around under -- around? -- Dean’s bad leg and the cast. But his good leg was pinned against the coffee table, and the pressure of the cast against it hurt so much that Dean was breaking out in a cold sweat.
“My leg,” he panted. “I can’t.”
Sam stilled next to him. “Can you move the table?” he asked after a few moments. “If you move the table, then I can get you off of me, and then we can get up.”
Dean took a deep breath and gave the coffee table a good hard shove, but the thing felt like it was bolted to the floor. The pain pills, he reasoned, and the bullshit crap position they were in and the lack of leverage made his attempt pretty damned pathetic. “No go,” he said. He could barely manage to move enough to use his shoulder to wipe some of the sweat from his face.
He could feel Sam sigh more than he could hear it. “I guess we’re stuck like this until Bobby gets back and finds us.”
Re: FILLED: UnbalancedpixymisaOctober 11 2011, 00:53:57 UTC
OP here - I love it. So silly and fun. And I can relate, since I had such a hard time getting around both times I had a cast. (Not at the same time, Thank goodness!)
Thank you so much for wonderful fill! But I have to ask - what happened when Bobby got home? (Hint hint?)
Re: FILLED: UnbalancedpixymisaOctober 11 2011, 03:03:29 UTC
YAY! YOU'RE SO VERY WELCOME! I had a lot of fun with the silliness, I'm sure you can tell. :D As for what happens when Bobby gets home, I assume he moved the coffee table. :P
The bathroom was too far away.
“Hey Sam,” Dean called out. “I have to pee.”
“Then pee,” Sam returned. He didn’t even look up from his book, the little bitch.
“I can’t get up,” Dean replied.
“Improvise.”
“I’ll get right on that. Where’s your coffee cup?”
That actually got a frustrated huff from Sam, and when Dean lifted his head up off the saggy couch cushion again, he saw that his brother had even put his book down. “I’m coming,” he grumbled. “Keep your pants on.”
Sam got up from his seat at the table, six and a half feet of unsteady Sasquatch swaying back and forth. He didn’t look exactly good, but considering what Sam’d been like when they first moved into Rufus’s old safehouse, it was a huge improvement. “Hand me my crutches,” Dean said as he swung his cast off the couch. As soon as it hit the floor, the throbbing started, heavy waves of pain lapping up his leg.
“Hang on,” Sam said. He leaned forward to grab Dean’s arm, to pull him up, but he didn’t get very far. Dean could see it as it happened. The pronounced wobble, the buckle of his knees, and the unsteady forward tilt.
And for some reason, instead of reaching out to catch Sam as he fell, some stupid instinct of Dean’s propelled him forward and up, meeting Sam halfway between a standing position and the couch. The pain shot through his leg at the same instant he realized what he was doing. They went down like a sack of potatoes, arms and legs tangled together, wedged in place by the couch and the coffee table.
“Ow,” Sam said.
Dean was inclined to agree on that point. “You think you can move?”
“Sure,” Sam replied with a grunt, and started to shift around under -- around? -- Dean’s bad leg and the cast. But his good leg was pinned against the coffee table, and the pressure of the cast against it hurt so much that Dean was breaking out in a cold sweat.
“My leg,” he panted. “I can’t.”
Sam stilled next to him. “Can you move the table?” he asked after a few moments. “If you move the table, then I can get you off of me, and then we can get up.”
Dean took a deep breath and gave the coffee table a good hard shove, but the thing felt like it was bolted to the floor. The pain pills, he reasoned, and the bullshit crap position they were in and the lack of leverage made his attempt pretty damned pathetic. “No go,” he said. He could barely manage to move enough to use his shoulder to wipe some of the sweat from his face.
He could feel Sam sigh more than he could hear it. “I guess we’re stuck like this until Bobby gets back and finds us.”
“Sam?”
“What?”
“I still have to pee.”
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Mrowr!
:D
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Hehehehe. The mighty Winchesters, defeated by a coffee table.
I love Dean pushing Sam's buttons to make him come help, and the waves of pain lapping up his leg.
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Thank you!
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Poor Sammy trying to help Dean and now he's wedged under his brother. How awful for him!!!!!!
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This was a fun prompt to write. :D
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Thank you so much for wonderful fill! But I have to ask - what happened when Bobby got home? (Hint hint?)
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