The best storyteller part 1/2
Title: "The best storyteller"
Author: giantslinky me)
Characters: Dean, Sam and John (Wee!chesters Sam is 8 and Dean is 12)
Words: 6172 (2371 in this part)
Warning: This is a deathfic! Language (swearing)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters don't belong to me. I just came out with the storyline.
Author's note: Just so you know, english is not my first language. And i want to thank my dear friend Nada for helping me with this!
Summary: Dean has been sick for days now and no matter how many times Sam has made him drink water he isn’t getting better.
Sam is standing in the kitchen with a glass of milk trying to decide if he is going to take the last cookie or not.
He looks towards the bathroom door. He can’t see Dean but he can definitely hear him. Dean has been sick for days now and no matter how many times Sam has made him drink water he isn’t getting better.
It’s not enough.
You’re never enough. He thinks.
Sam suddenly wants dad. But since when has that been a good enough reason for him to actually come back?
Sam keeps staring at the door like his worried gaze might actually make it disappear.
But of course it doesn’t.
He has just decided that Dean can have the last cookie when he hears the thud.
Sam suddenly realizes he really hates silence.
“Dean?” He tries to say but the fear is stealing his words away.
Sam takes a few steps closer to the door. “Dean” he tries again and this time the word actually comes out. But it gets no answer.
am is still holding the glass, with both hands now, and his tears spill into the milk with soft sounds.
He grips the doorknob and opens the door. The first thing Sam sees is in the middle of the floor and it makes his eyes grow wider which makes more tears spill over.
It’s an arm that’s attached to a shoulder that’s attached to a brother who’s attached to his heart.
The glass of milk falls to the floor but Sam is the one who breaks.
He says Dean’s name one more time, and then again, and again.
Dean’s eyes are closed and he’s shaking.
There is milk on the floor and tears in the milk.
THREE DAYS EARLIER
It is late afternoon when dad tells Sam that there’s a job a couple of towns over. It’s nothing Sam hasn’t heard before so he just nods behind his book.
But then dad tells him “look after your brother” and that makes him look up. It’s a sentence that he has heard from his father so many times that he thinks that the sentence is just lying around on the tip of his tongue all the time. Just in case. But his father has never said it to Sam.
Sam stares at dad who stares at Sam and then Sam glances over to Dean. His brother is lying on the couch under blankets that are lying on top of some more blankets. The only part of his sibling you can actually see is a tuft of hair and half a foot. He knew Dean was sick, he just hadn’t realized that meant he was in charge now.
“Make sure he drinks a lot of water. Don’t call unless it’s a real emergency, you got that Sam?
“Yes.” And after a glare “Yes sir.”
“And check the salt lines, you know the drill.”
Then Sam watches dad pick his things up and open the door. John stops half way out and turns to look at Dean one last time. He doesn’t miss how hard his dad’s grip on the doorknob is and he stands there for such a long time Sam thinks that maybe he’ll change his mind and actually stay.
But he barely has time to think the thought before the door closes.
Sam hears the Impala purr to life outside the motel and then the grumble grows a bit louder before the sound lessens and lessens until you can’t hear it at all.
And with that the car is gone and with it their dad.
Sam looks down at his book. He suddenly doesn’t feel like reading about heroes anymore. He has his very own right there in the living room and Sam wants to take care of him. He tries to remember what Dean does when he takes care of him. Soup is the first thing he remembers.
The cabinets are really high up and Sam is small for his age so he grabs the nearest chair and drags it closer to the cabinets.
Sam is humming and the chair scrapes against the floor.
He’s socks are too big, maybe because they are actually Dean’s. The edge of the right one hangs over the edge of the chair when he stands on it.
He opens the first cabinet and there stands, among other things, three cans of soup. The inside of the cabinet is dusty so Sam closes his eyes, takes a big breath, and blows it out.
Dust dances around in the sun light that’s spilling into the kitchen.
Dean coughs and Sam hums.
There is one tomato soup, one with chicken and one with mushroom. Sam can’t remember which one Dean likes and he doesn’t want to ask him either because he wants to make this a surprise for his brother.
He looks at his choices. Sam hates mushrooms so he figures that Dean won’t like them either. The last time Sam was sick Dean made him soup with chicken he remembers now so he decides that’s a good choice.
Dean sniffs and Sam hums.
The can of soup is poured into a saucepan which is put on the stove.
Sam stirs the soup around. He gets bored after a while and stirs faster. He makes whirlwinds in the soup. It gets really hot after a while, standing over the soup.
Dean shivers and Sam sweats.
Sam’s hair falls into his eyes. He blows it away.
Dean thinks that maybe he should get up, take care of Sam. Sam thinks he should get a haircut.
The soup bubbles and Sam decides it’s done.
He takes the bowl of soup into the living room and puts it down on the table in front of Dean. Sam remembered what their dad said and ran back to the kitchen only to come back with a tall glass of water. His big brother slowly drags down the blankets a bit so he can watch what Sam is doing.
“I made you soup” Sam proudly says. Dean’s eyes glitter for a second despite the fever but then he actually looks into the bowl.
He stares at it like it’s an alien. Like it’s mushrooms.
Sam thinks he hears Dean mumble something about “wrong” but when he’s about to ask Dean about it he sees that the glitter is now tears in his big brother’s eyes.
You did something wrong, you did everything wrong, Sam thinks to himself. “I’m just trying to take care of you” he whispers.
A hand flies up from underneath the blankets and Dean dries the tears on his shirtsleeve. He gently nudges Sam in the leg with his foot. “Thank you Sasquatch.”
His voice reminds Sam of the impala. Grumble
ldquo;Hey come on Sam you did good I promise.” Grumble grumble
Sam doesn’t understand what Dean is talking about until he feels that his own cheeks are wet. It’s like Dean’s tears are connected to his own.
Big brother slowly eats the soup and drinks the water while little brother sits down with a book in the chair opposite to the couch so he can watch over Dean.
Slurping and pages turning.
Pages turning and coughs.
Back poundings and nervous reassurances.
Proud big brother and scared little brother.
Sam wakes up in the middle of the night feeling like something is wrong. He looks over to Dean’s bed and when he sees it is empty he remembers that Dean had fallen asleep on the couch.
am yawns until his whole face hurts and then gets out of bed. Concern and lack of sleep was making him stumble.
When Sam reaches the couch he sees that Dean isn’t there either.
The floor was cold under his bare feet but Sam didn’t notice.
Coughing and the sound of someone being sick made his head snap towards the bathroom.
--
Dean coughs until he can’t breathe and just as he thinks he is going to pass out he manages to take one desperate gulp of air. He can’t think of a time he has felt this sick before. He knows his fever is high, he can’t stop shaking and it seems like he can’t even keep water down anymore. Maybe he is really sick this time.
He wishes his mom was there, or dad, or hell even Sam-
“Dean?” a cautious voice from somewhere behind the door interrupts his thoughts.
“Go back to sleep Sammy.” Dean’s voice is no more than a rough whisper and the words lit his throat on fire. He has also a headache that doesn’t want to disappear. Dean knows the kid is worried about him and is only trying to help, and god was he trying hard, but Dean doesn’t want Sam to worry so much, he needs to let Sam know that he can take care of this himself, he has to.
He already was a disappointment to their dad and he knew he couldn’t live with being one to Sam too.
Dean thinks he hears Sam say something again but then he starts gaging and quickly turns his head to the toilet again. The dry heaves never seem to end and suddenly there is a warm hand on his back and a little brother by his side. He thinks about pushing Sam away and shouting at him for not listening to him but he doesn’t really want to.
They stay like that for long while; Sam’s hand on Dean’s back rubbing circles which after a while turn, and Dean with his head down the toiled.
Sam tries to make Dean drink some more water and Dean just shakes his head but then Sam actually screams at him that he WILL drink the water or otherwise Sam will tell dad.
--
Sam knows it’s a low blow telling Dean that he will rat him out to dad but he also knows that it will work. And it’s for Dean’s own good.
Dean smiles but he doesn’t look happy, Sam thinks, but he does drink the water. Sam frowns when he sees the pained expression on Dean’s face. “Are you hurting anywhere Dean?” His brother whispers head and Sam thinks that if someone would have asked him the same question his answer would have been heart.
----
Next day
Dean is under the blankets again. When Sam puts his hand on his brother’s forehead he is almost more scared of Dean’s lack of protest than the burning heat beneath his hand.
Dean’s voice is almost completely gone now and he has slept for a long time. When he does open his eyes they are glassy and unfocused. He also seems to have trouble moving his head and neck.
Sam stands over Dean with the thermometer clutched in his hand. “Dean I need to see how high your fever is”, he says but doesn’t move. He suddenly feels very uncertain, almost shy. He really isn’t used to being the one in charge, telling someone what to do.
Sam creeps up to his brother and puts a hand on his shoulder so he won’t startle him. The thermometer is gently put in Dean’s ear.
Sam holds his breath until he thinks he is going to pass out and then the little instrument beeps.
104.1
Sam looks down at his brother who is slowly waking up, peeling one eye open.
ldquo;Sa-Sam” his brother tries to say.
ldquo;Um Dean…your fever is really high. I think we should try and cool you down a bit.”
--
Dean couldn’t focus long enough to understand what Sam was saying and then all of a sudden the blankets were being pulled away from him.
“Sam no, no…no ‘m cold Sammy.” Dean desperately tries to pull the blankets back over himself, to pull the little warmth he had back over him, tries to make Sam understand that without them he would turn into an icicle.
--
When Sam hears Dean’s desperate pleas for the blankets back, for Sam to stop, to help him, Sam doesn’t stop. He can’t. He keeps going for Dean’s sake. He has to tell himself that, convince himself that this was for Dean.
Look at him. You are the one causing him this pain. Why would you do that Sam?
No stupid thoughts go away!
Sam takes the last blanket away. He almost can’t see Dean over the big bundle of blankets in his arms but when he does take a look, he wishes he hadn’t.
Dean is shivering, arms clutched hard around him in a hopeless try to warm himself. He is crying. “Dean..I know you feel cold but you have a high fever okay? You..it’s, I’m..I am doing this to help you Dean.” Dean doesn’t answer him and Sam throws all the blankets in the corner of the couch and sits down in front of Dean and just holds his hand.
nbsp;
As the day slowly turns into night Sam almost starts crying again when big brother manages to drink a few sips of water, though that seems to be the only improvement.
Sam takes his book and crawls in under all the blankets next to Dean.
Dean makes a protesting sound and Sam knows him well enough to know that it wasn’t because he thought of it as a chick-flick moment, no the protest was for Sam.
He didn’t want Sam to get sick too.
“It’s okay Dean your germs seem to like you a lot, I’m sure they won’t jump over to me.” Sam snuggles up next to his brother but he almost falls right of the couch when he feels Dean put his hand over his own.
--
Dean almost cried in relief when he managed to find Sam’s hand and hold on to it. He needed to comfort Sam, make sure Sam knew that everything was okay, but he knew that this was only a feeble attempt. He also felt weak for not being able to provide Sam with more.
It was just that he was so very, very tired and just lying down on the couch with his little brother next to him felt really good. It felt so much like home that it almost hurt.
I can’t exist without you Sammy
CHAPTER 2
Author: giantslinky me)
Characters: Dean, Sam and John (Wee!chesters Sam is 8 and Dean is 12)
Words: 6172 (2371 in this part)
Warning: This is a deathfic! Language (swearing)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters don't belong to me. I just came out with the storyline.
Author's note: Just so you know, english is not my first language. And i want to thank my dear friend Nada for helping me with this!
Summary: Dean has been sick for days now and no matter how many times Sam has made him drink water he isn’t getting better.
Sam is standing in the kitchen with a glass of milk trying to decide if he is going to take the last cookie or not.
He looks towards the bathroom door. He can’t see Dean but he can definitely hear him. Dean has been sick for days now and no matter how many times Sam has made him drink water he isn’t getting better.
It’s not enough.
You’re never enough. He thinks.
Sam suddenly wants dad. But since when has that been a good enough reason for him to actually come back?
Sam keeps staring at the door like his worried gaze might actually make it disappear.
But of course it doesn’t.
He has just decided that Dean can have the last cookie when he hears the thud.
Sam suddenly realizes he really hates silence.
“Dean?” He tries to say but the fear is stealing his words away.
Sam takes a few steps closer to the door. “Dean” he tries again and this time the word actually comes out. But it gets no answer.
am is still holding the glass, with both hands now, and his tears spill into the milk with soft sounds.
He grips the doorknob and opens the door. The first thing Sam sees is in the middle of the floor and it makes his eyes grow wider which makes more tears spill over.
It’s an arm that’s attached to a shoulder that’s attached to a brother who’s attached to his heart.
The glass of milk falls to the floor but Sam is the one who breaks.
He says Dean’s name one more time, and then again, and again.
Dean’s eyes are closed and he’s shaking.
There is milk on the floor and tears in the milk.
THREE DAYS EARLIER
It is late afternoon when dad tells Sam that there’s a job a couple of towns over. It’s nothing Sam hasn’t heard before so he just nods behind his book.
But then dad tells him “look after your brother” and that makes him look up. It’s a sentence that he has heard from his father so many times that he thinks that the sentence is just lying around on the tip of his tongue all the time. Just in case. But his father has never said it to Sam.
Sam stares at dad who stares at Sam and then Sam glances over to Dean. His brother is lying on the couch under blankets that are lying on top of some more blankets. The only part of his sibling you can actually see is a tuft of hair and half a foot. He knew Dean was sick, he just hadn’t realized that meant he was in charge now.
“Make sure he drinks a lot of water. Don’t call unless it’s a real emergency, you got that Sam?
“Yes.” And after a glare “Yes sir.”
“And check the salt lines, you know the drill.”
Then Sam watches dad pick his things up and open the door. John stops half way out and turns to look at Dean one last time. He doesn’t miss how hard his dad’s grip on the doorknob is and he stands there for such a long time Sam thinks that maybe he’ll change his mind and actually stay.
But he barely has time to think the thought before the door closes.
Sam hears the Impala purr to life outside the motel and then the grumble grows a bit louder before the sound lessens and lessens until you can’t hear it at all.
And with that the car is gone and with it their dad.
Sam looks down at his book. He suddenly doesn’t feel like reading about heroes anymore. He has his very own right there in the living room and Sam wants to take care of him. He tries to remember what Dean does when he takes care of him. Soup is the first thing he remembers.
The cabinets are really high up and Sam is small for his age so he grabs the nearest chair and drags it closer to the cabinets.
Sam is humming and the chair scrapes against the floor.
He’s socks are too big, maybe because they are actually Dean’s. The edge of the right one hangs over the edge of the chair when he stands on it.
He opens the first cabinet and there stands, among other things, three cans of soup. The inside of the cabinet is dusty so Sam closes his eyes, takes a big breath, and blows it out.
Dust dances around in the sun light that’s spilling into the kitchen.
Dean coughs and Sam hums.
There is one tomato soup, one with chicken and one with mushroom. Sam can’t remember which one Dean likes and he doesn’t want to ask him either because he wants to make this a surprise for his brother.
He looks at his choices. Sam hates mushrooms so he figures that Dean won’t like them either. The last time Sam was sick Dean made him soup with chicken he remembers now so he decides that’s a good choice.
Dean sniffs and Sam hums.
The can of soup is poured into a saucepan which is put on the stove.
Sam stirs the soup around. He gets bored after a while and stirs faster. He makes whirlwinds in the soup. It gets really hot after a while, standing over the soup.
Dean shivers and Sam sweats.
Sam’s hair falls into his eyes. He blows it away.
Dean thinks that maybe he should get up, take care of Sam. Sam thinks he should get a haircut.
The soup bubbles and Sam decides it’s done.
He takes the bowl of soup into the living room and puts it down on the table in front of Dean. Sam remembered what their dad said and ran back to the kitchen only to come back with a tall glass of water. His big brother slowly drags down the blankets a bit so he can watch what Sam is doing.
“I made you soup” Sam proudly says. Dean’s eyes glitter for a second despite the fever but then he actually looks into the bowl.
He stares at it like it’s an alien. Like it’s mushrooms.
Sam thinks he hears Dean mumble something about “wrong” but when he’s about to ask Dean about it he sees that the glitter is now tears in his big brother’s eyes.
You did something wrong, you did everything wrong, Sam thinks to himself. “I’m just trying to take care of you” he whispers.
A hand flies up from underneath the blankets and Dean dries the tears on his shirtsleeve. He gently nudges Sam in the leg with his foot. “Thank you Sasquatch.”
His voice reminds Sam of the impala. Grumble
ldquo;Hey come on Sam you did good I promise.” Grumble grumble
Sam doesn’t understand what Dean is talking about until he feels that his own cheeks are wet. It’s like Dean’s tears are connected to his own.
Big brother slowly eats the soup and drinks the water while little brother sits down with a book in the chair opposite to the couch so he can watch over Dean.
Slurping and pages turning.
Pages turning and coughs.
Back poundings and nervous reassurances.
Proud big brother and scared little brother.
Sam wakes up in the middle of the night feeling like something is wrong. He looks over to Dean’s bed and when he sees it is empty he remembers that Dean had fallen asleep on the couch.
am yawns until his whole face hurts and then gets out of bed. Concern and lack of sleep was making him stumble.
When Sam reaches the couch he sees that Dean isn’t there either.
The floor was cold under his bare feet but Sam didn’t notice.
Coughing and the sound of someone being sick made his head snap towards the bathroom.
--
Dean coughs until he can’t breathe and just as he thinks he is going to pass out he manages to take one desperate gulp of air. He can’t think of a time he has felt this sick before. He knows his fever is high, he can’t stop shaking and it seems like he can’t even keep water down anymore. Maybe he is really sick this time.
He wishes his mom was there, or dad, or hell even Sam-
“Dean?” a cautious voice from somewhere behind the door interrupts his thoughts.
“Go back to sleep Sammy.” Dean’s voice is no more than a rough whisper and the words lit his throat on fire. He has also a headache that doesn’t want to disappear. Dean knows the kid is worried about him and is only trying to help, and god was he trying hard, but Dean doesn’t want Sam to worry so much, he needs to let Sam know that he can take care of this himself, he has to.
He already was a disappointment to their dad and he knew he couldn’t live with being one to Sam too.
Dean thinks he hears Sam say something again but then he starts gaging and quickly turns his head to the toilet again. The dry heaves never seem to end and suddenly there is a warm hand on his back and a little brother by his side. He thinks about pushing Sam away and shouting at him for not listening to him but he doesn’t really want to.
They stay like that for long while; Sam’s hand on Dean’s back rubbing circles which after a while turn, and Dean with his head down the toiled.
Sam tries to make Dean drink some more water and Dean just shakes his head but then Sam actually screams at him that he WILL drink the water or otherwise Sam will tell dad.
--
Sam knows it’s a low blow telling Dean that he will rat him out to dad but he also knows that it will work. And it’s for Dean’s own good.
Dean smiles but he doesn’t look happy, Sam thinks, but he does drink the water. Sam frowns when he sees the pained expression on Dean’s face. “Are you hurting anywhere Dean?” His brother whispers head and Sam thinks that if someone would have asked him the same question his answer would have been heart.
----
Next day
Dean is under the blankets again. When Sam puts his hand on his brother’s forehead he is almost more scared of Dean’s lack of protest than the burning heat beneath his hand.
Dean’s voice is almost completely gone now and he has slept for a long time. When he does open his eyes they are glassy and unfocused. He also seems to have trouble moving his head and neck.
Sam stands over Dean with the thermometer clutched in his hand. “Dean I need to see how high your fever is”, he says but doesn’t move. He suddenly feels very uncertain, almost shy. He really isn’t used to being the one in charge, telling someone what to do.
Sam creeps up to his brother and puts a hand on his shoulder so he won’t startle him. The thermometer is gently put in Dean’s ear.
Sam holds his breath until he thinks he is going to pass out and then the little instrument beeps.
104.1
Sam looks down at his brother who is slowly waking up, peeling one eye open.
ldquo;Sa-Sam” his brother tries to say.
ldquo;Um Dean…your fever is really high. I think we should try and cool you down a bit.”
--
Dean couldn’t focus long enough to understand what Sam was saying and then all of a sudden the blankets were being pulled away from him.
“Sam no, no…no ‘m cold Sammy.” Dean desperately tries to pull the blankets back over himself, to pull the little warmth he had back over him, tries to make Sam understand that without them he would turn into an icicle.
--
When Sam hears Dean’s desperate pleas for the blankets back, for Sam to stop, to help him, Sam doesn’t stop. He can’t. He keeps going for Dean’s sake. He has to tell himself that, convince himself that this was for Dean.
Look at him. You are the one causing him this pain. Why would you do that Sam?
No stupid thoughts go away!
Sam takes the last blanket away. He almost can’t see Dean over the big bundle of blankets in his arms but when he does take a look, he wishes he hadn’t.
Dean is shivering, arms clutched hard around him in a hopeless try to warm himself. He is crying. “Dean..I know you feel cold but you have a high fever okay? You..it’s, I’m..I am doing this to help you Dean.” Dean doesn’t answer him and Sam throws all the blankets in the corner of the couch and sits down in front of Dean and just holds his hand.
nbsp;
As the day slowly turns into night Sam almost starts crying again when big brother manages to drink a few sips of water, though that seems to be the only improvement.
Sam takes his book and crawls in under all the blankets next to Dean.
Dean makes a protesting sound and Sam knows him well enough to know that it wasn’t because he thought of it as a chick-flick moment, no the protest was for Sam.
He didn’t want Sam to get sick too.
“It’s okay Dean your germs seem to like you a lot, I’m sure they won’t jump over to me.” Sam snuggles up next to his brother but he almost falls right of the couch when he feels Dean put his hand over his own.
--
Dean almost cried in relief when he managed to find Sam’s hand and hold on to it. He needed to comfort Sam, make sure Sam knew that everything was okay, but he knew that this was only a feeble attempt. He also felt weak for not being able to provide Sam with more.
It was just that he was so very, very tired and just lying down on the couch with his little brother next to him felt really good. It felt so much like home that it almost hurt.
I can’t exist without you Sammy
CHAPTER 2