Fresh Blood Tag Prompt
Title: Collateral Damage
Author:
deluweil
Fandom:SPN
Characters: Sam,Dean
Rating:PG-13
Genre:Gen
Spoilers:Fresh Blood
Prompt: Dean's a bit woozy after losing blood.
Discalimer: Not mine, Kripke's, so not fair *pouts*
Author's Note: I tell you writer's block is a bitch, but all's well now(for now),
Thank you Sue (
candygramme ) for being my Beta and helping me to find the title, Love You!!!
I hope y'all like it :))
Sam blinked; nope no change…
Looking around for what seemed at least the fifth time, he couldn’t believe what he’d done.
There was blood everywhere - on his face, his hands, the floor; he knew he was in shock but he couldn’t really do anything about it, he’d just killed a person in the most gruesome way. The problem was that it should have bothered him, but it didn’t. He’d do it again - he'd do anything as he’d already found over the last few weeks - to protect his brother, Dean!
"Dean?" he snapped out of his shock and searched frantically for his big brother.
His eyes fell on the still form of the older hunter, and he quickly strode to his side, kneeling beside him. "Dean, Dean Wake up, come on." He shook his brother gently. He remembered Gordon hitting him on the back of his head right before lifting him like he was feather weight and just… Sam forced himself back to the present. The rage, he told himself, wouldn't do Dean any good. He gently turned his brother onto his back and looked for the source of the older Winchester’s loss of consciousness. Dean had a lump at the back of his head, and serious bleeding at the neck; these fang wounds were deep.
"Okay," he said, softly. "We gotta get you outta here." He also had to clean up before he could treat Dean. Gordon had tried to feed on him, and Sam would be damned if he let Dean be turned for lack of his own attention.
He lifted his brother in a way that would have Dean shuddering with dread if he'd seen it and carried him to the car, Dean didn’t so much as stir, and that worried Sam more than anything, He wanted to take Dean to the hospital, but they were wanted by the feds, and he couldn’t risk it. He put his brother in the passenger seat, his head lolling back as he put the seatbelt on for him and then quickly entered the driver’s side.
He was pretty sure he broke every speed limit there was and got them to the motel in less than ten minutes. Carrying Dean again, this time into the room to put him on the bed farthest from the door. He'd be the one doing the protecting tonight. He washed his hands, scrubbing so hard his skin turned red, then hurried to get the medical kit from the trunk.
Sure that he wouldn’t harm his brother, he hurried to Dean's side, satisfied that the cloth he’d pressed there earlier had slowed the bleeding to minimum. He cleaned the wound, and though he hated that the older hunter hurt, he was rather happy when Dean moaned and started to stir, "hey, Dean?" he petted his brother’s cheek gently. "You back with me?"
"Sa...”
"Close enough" Sam chuckled despite himself. "Come on; open your eyes, big bro."
"Wha... hap...n?" Dean stuttered and tried to turn away from Sam as he cleaned the punctures the former vampire slayer had caused.
"Gordon tried to use you as an appetizer," Sam replied with forced lightness.
"Yuck!"
"Yeah." The younger Winchester smiled. They were quiet for a while as Sam patched Dean up just like Dean had done for him a thousand times before. He sighed inwardly; tonight was close, too close. This couldn't happen. Dean only had a year to live as it was; he wouldn’t give his big brother away without a fight. No way!
"Hey!" Dean's weak voice brought him out of his reverie
"Hey yourself," Sam smiled, pressing a bandage into place. "Here you go, all done."
Then he moved purposely to check Dean's head. "Turn your head."
"I'm fine, Sammy."
"If you're already bitching, then you gotta be," Sam teased. "But humor me just the same, okay?" He gently ran his fingers over Dean's scalp. There was a bump at the base of his skull but nothing life threatening. He cleaned that too, then sat on the side of the bed.
"Twenty questions?" Dean groaned.
"It'll be easier if you play along."
Dean sighed. "I'm Dean Matthew Winchester, I'm 27, the year is 2008, and if you held any fingers in front of me there would have been two. I do have a headache but no nausea, and I'll tell you about dizzy as soon as you let me get the fuck up and take a leak."
"Funny"
"No, seriously, dude, I gotta go."
"Oh, okay, come on." Sam moved to help Dean up, but Dean swatted him away.
"I'm fine Sam!" he growled.
"Sure you are," Sam drawled but let go all the same. Still he kept a close eye on Dean in case he stumbled.
It was surprising that Dean only needed help on his way back. The older hunter’s legs gave way, and he would have hit the floor if not for Sam's strong arms that stopped his fall then half-carried him to bed.
"Damn it!" Dean swore. "I feel like crap."
"I know, Dean. It'll pass," Sam soothed while pulling the covers over him. He gave his brother some Tylenol. "Get some rest, you'll feel better in the morning." He turned to lock the door, but Dean stopped him, making a grab for his hand. "Wait!"
Sam kneeled by the bed, surprised.
"I'm sorry," Dean apologized, his voice hoarse.
"For what?" Sam asked, eyebrows rising.
"I didn't mean to hurt you. When I made that deal, I didn't think what it would do to you; I just wanted the pain to stop, and then you were back, and it felt like for the first time I'd done something right."
Sam was about to respond, but Dean stopped him. "No, wait, let me finish." So Sam settled back, watching Dean play with the edge of the blanket. "It took some time for the repercussions to fully sink in, and then I realized, I'm going to hell, and with it came the overwhelming fear, and with that my defense system reared its ugly head. I know I've been an ass to you, and I am so sorry, Sam. You don't deserve this - any of this." And, for the first time, Dean's eyes met Sam's, and both sets were bright and wet. "I'm scared, Sammy," Dean said softly as if revealing some kind of a horrible secret
Sam looked at his brother the whole time he was talking, noting the flush on his cheeks, the slightly glazed look, and the fact that they were having a total chick flick moment - a big no-no in Dean's book. Those were all signs that he was running a fever, but all that didn’t make his words any less true, less heartbreaking or less painful. He ran a hand through Dean's hair. "Shhh, I know you are big brother. I'll save you," he soothed. "I promise." He kept smoothing back Dean's hair, until his brother fell into a fitful sleep.
He sat there a while longer, reluctant to break contact with his brother, until at last he rose, locked the door, drew a line of salt and slipped a knife under his pillow. He wasn’t taking any chances tonight. He hit the shower, and when he came out, fifteen minutes later, to his relief Dean was still sleeping peacefully. He laid a hand on the older hunter's forehead and was relieved to find out that the Tylenol was doing its job. Deciding he wasn’t going to get any sleep that night, he sat on his own bed facing Dean and started to read from one of the books he’d picked up, resuming the search for a way to get Dean out of his deal.
”And I will get him out of it. I promised!”
The End