Contraindicated, a Supernatural Fic
Title: Contraindicated
Author: lauehime
Rating: Gen.
Genre/pairing: Angst, H/C, Family, Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word count: +/- 4,300
Warnings: none.
Summary: Dean's always there to take care of Sam when his brother is sick and this time is no exception. Only, in his desire to help he might want to make sure that he doesn't hurt Sam even more in the process. Set season 5.
Disclaimer: The show belongs to Kripke.
A/N: Feedback is love. Enjoy!
SNSNSN
When Sam started to come to, the first thing he noticed was how crappy he felt. His heartbeat pounded against his skull, making him dizzy and nauseous at the same time. He sniffled his nose only to notice the pressure he felt pushing behind his cheeks and up to his forehead. He’d been off for a couple of days now, complaining about headaches and sore throats. There was no mistaking it anymore, he was getting sick.
The youngest Winchester hated getting sick. He thought it was silly that a normal flu could knock him on his ass in a way few of the things he hunted could. After all, he fought demons and monsters all the time and he was used to broken bones and concussions by now. But none of them really scared or annoyed him. Of course, he would never be happy if he got himself or Dean physically hurt in a hunt, but he didn’t mind it as much because he could just stitch up the bleeding wounds and drown the pain with a pill to make it more bearable.
Sam was a tough guy when it came to manhandling his bruises and broken ribs. But he hated being sick. Sickness made him vulnerable and wimpy. He just wanted to crawl into bed and curl up in the heat. That wasn’t something he could deal with with a swig of whiskey and a couple of pain killers. He didn’t do sickness. He couldn’t just avoid it like dodging a blow to the head. It came without permission.
A groan escaped his lips before he could stop it. He’d heard the door open and the shifting of curtains when a violent bright light assaulted him. He spun to the side and brought the comforter above his eyes to shield himself from the piercing day light.
Dean sighed. He just came back to the motel room to find Sam still in bed. He thought his entrance would enlighten his moody little brother, but all he got was a loud groan when he pulled the curtains apart from the window, letting the room breathe in a little bit of sunlight. He saw Sam roll under the covers with his usual moody face and figured he’d be stuck in this situation again today. He’d seen how his brother had been off for a few days now.
So many years of being a big brother taught him that. He knew each and every one of Sam’s expressions and their very own signification. His little brother thought he’d done a good job at hiding it, but Dean knew him too well. He could have written a book about understanding little Sam Winchester and each of his different bitchfaces - as Dean liked to call them. This one was no exception. Dean had heard the sniffles and the muffled coughs. He’d seen the way Sam rubbed his throat when he thought his big brother wasn’t looking. He’d also seen that pattern when Sam brought shaky fingers to his temples and ran circles on his skin with the tips of his fingers.
Of course he wasn’t stupid. He knew his brother was getting sick. He didn’t like it much more than Sam did when the kid got sick. Sam had a tendency to get wimpy and most of all, sloppy on the job. Dean couldn’t risk having over six feet tall of lanky little brothers slowing him down on the job. Not with the kind of work they did. If Sam was out of it, he’d be a liability and that’s something both of them knew. It also explained why his brother didn’t come to him and chose instead to hide his symptoms. Sam didn’t want to hold Dean back by fear of making his big brother angry.
Dean sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It’s not that he didn’t like Sam. He just didn’t put ‘taking care of sick little brothers’ on his list of favorite activities. There were things more important to him like ‘not having to watch after sick little brothers’. But whenever he turned his back, Sam just seemed to appear with some new issue to deal with. Dean started to think that the kid was such a light weight…
He pushed it aside for the moment, knowing too well that big brother duty called again. He set the plastic bag he’d been dragging on the small table near the window and gave Sam’s infinitely long legs a soft shove.
"Hey princess, you goin’ to sleep all day ?" he teased but something in his tone was still serious. Was it worry or bitterness, Sam couldn’t quite tell. Dean would be annoyed with him lately, but he always cared for him when he was hurt - although complaining about Sam being such a girl. The little brother couldn’t be mad at him for the teasing though. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention. At least this way he knew his big brother was always there for him, no matter what.
Another groan escaped his parched lips and he pulled his eyes out of his refuge only to shoot a glare at his brother whom was now eyeing him with - there was no mistaking it now - concern in his eyes.
"The light… " he started but Dean cut him off.
"Will do you good, Sammy! You’re not a vampire, but you’re starting to look like one" the big brother teased.
Sam rolled his eyes and gave Dean his best pouty-annoyed face.
"Dude, seriously, you look like crap!" he continued. Sam sighed and looked down, avoiding his brother’s eyes.
"I feel like it too" he whispered. Dean nodded and walked back to the table where he had put down the bag he’d brought home to the motel room. He pulled out a small box and looked at his brother again. Sam was squinting at the bright light in an effort to keep his eyes on his brother.
"I know you do. Here, I got this for you" he said, throwing the box across the bed and where Sam could easily reach it. The youngest grabbed the box and checked the label. It was flu medication and suddenly the youngest was so grateful to have his big brother around.
"Thanks, D. You knew ?" he asked shyly, ripping the side of the box and already digging around for the pills. Dean reached the bathroom to pour his brother a glass of water before coming back to the kid’s side and handing it over to him.
"Do you think I’m stupid, or what ? I think I knew even before you did" Dean snapped. Sam bowed his head and accepted the water with a nod.
He gulped the pills and washed them down in a second. The water felt like a blessing on his sore throat.
"My head feels like it’s going to implode" Sam wheezed.
"Yeah and you sound like an old lady who’s been smoking two packs a day for forty years" Dean joked and couldn’t help the smile that crept on his lips as soon as the comment slipped out of his mouth. Sam snorted and rolled his eyes at the joke, but Dean didn’t miss the grin Sam tried so hard to hide as well.
And then it was time to be serious again. Dean pulled on his straight face and cleared his throat. "We’ll have to wait a few days before getting back on the road. I can’t have you screwing up on a hunt because your sneezing scares the monsters away" he decided. Sam turned to him with his puppy-dog eyes filled with pain. He knew what this meant for Dean and he felt like he was holding him back again.
"Dean, I can still…" he started, but couldn’t finish his thought when his brother interrupted him.
"No you can’t. You’re sick and you may as well get us both killed. End of discussion" Dean announced. Sam sighed and looked down at his hands in defeat. When his brother got that serious tone, there was nothing he could do to change his mind. Winchesters were a stubborn species after all.
"I’m sorry" was all the youngest thought he could say in front of his authoritative big brother. "I know I’m holding you back" he added when he saw that Dean was still tensed up and hardly looking at him.
He knew his brother was mad and that made it so much worse. A few days off with an angry big brother wasn’t his definition of a healthy convalescence.
"Whatever, Sam…" Dean breathed and sat on his own bed with his cleaning equipment and his guns.
Working on something was probably going to keep him busy for a while and maybe he wouldn’t be so cranky from being forced to step back from hunting.
"Dean" Sam started on a pleading tone, looking over at his big brother who was pulling his gun apart to rub the pieces clean.
"If you’re looking for something to do, you can get us some food. Wouldn’t hurt you to do something. Unless you're too sick for that too" Dean proposed, not looking up from his work. Sam looked perplexed for a few seconds.
"’m not hungry" he finally replied. Dean rolled his eyes and looked up at Sam for the first time.
"You haven’t been eating in days, Sam. You need to eat if you want to get your strength back and get out of here" he hissed. Sam winced. His brother did have a point though and because he didn’t want to have Dean on his back for as long as they were stuck there, he didn’t see too many other options there.
"And I got you the pills, you may as well get me some food" Dean added. Sam frowned.
"Well thank you, Dean. But if it bothers you so much, why did you do it in the first place? I didn’t ask you to and it’s not my fault I got sick!" Sam started to fight back. Dean clenched his jaw. He didn’t really want to deal with his brother’s blubbering.
"Then suck it up! I’m stuck here as much as you are…" Dean snapped back. Sam swallowed and looked at his brother with pain in his eyes.
"Alright then. I’ll be back shortly" the youngest announced in defeat.
Sam grabbed a large hoodie to snuggle into and hide the tremors in his long limbs. He picked up the car keys and left the room. For a second, Dean let his hands drop in front of him and looked in the direction he’d last seen his brother. Sam had gone through a lot worse than the flu in his life. It’s not that he didn’t trust his brother either. He just didn’t want anything to happen to Sam while he was vulnerable.
Maybe that sounded too overprotective, but he’d seen the kid get beat up too many times and he wouldn’t let that happen again if he could prevent it. He mentally pushed himself to stop being a sap and resumed his cleaning task.
SNSNSN
Sam walked out of the little diner carrying a brown paper bag of food. He’d gotten Dean the greasiest burger he found on the menu and had gotten himself a lighter meal even though his stomach was churning and he really didn’t feel like keeping anything down at the moment.
The drive to the diner had been a challenging race. A few times, Sam had zoned out and swerved back into track just in time to avoid crashing into a parked car or a telephone pole. His heart started racing at the idea of getting back to the motel. His arms were shaky and his hands clammy.
He found out that he was having a hard time keeping his hands clasped firmly on the steering wheel.
He started the drive back and his eyes swam in and out of focus. He was confused and worried, because no flu would usually do that to him. What the hell? he thought as he shook his head once more in an attempt to clear his head into focus.
His eyes were drooping. For a second, he thought about pulling over and calling his brother. But Dean would be mad at him. He couldn’t even get a simple task done. Getting diner wasn’t supposed to be that much of a challenge. Maybe he was really holding his brother back after all.
As his last train of thought trailed off, he realized how tired he was. Just for a second, he thought that maybe it wouldn’t hurt him too much to give in to his body’s needs. His eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. Closing them for just a few seconds would make him feel better, wouldn’t it?
SNSNSN
Dean’s actions were angry. He couldn’t focus on the task anymore. All he kept thinking about was how long ago Sam had gone to get the food and how he still wasn’t back. The eldest’s mind kept wandering around into dark scenarios, but he would push them away violently, getting angry with himself for having such thoughts.
Of course nothing had happened to Sam. He was just overreacting. His brother was probably taking so long only to get back at him for sending him out. It couldn’t be anything else.
His hands started shaking at how hard it was getting to convince himself that Sam was fine. Every additional second on the clock was like a direct blow to his guts. It was one more second where Sam wasn’t home, one more second where he could be slipping away from him.
But what the hell was taking so long, really? If Sam had been in trouble, he would have called Dean.
The eldest picked his phone up and stared at it as if it would give him the answers.
But time went by and there still weren’t any signs that Sam would be showing up soon.
Dean’s heart was beating incredibly faster. He was wrestling with his inner voice to not run out of the motel and look for his kid brother. His big brother alarm was screeching in his head. He was very close to losing it.
He stared at his phone once more when it suddenly starting ringing right into his hand and under his waiting eyes. His heart skipped a few beats, but he ignored the fear and pulled the phone open.
"Sam?" he asked directly, not even thinking that somebody else than Sam could be on the other hand of the phone.
"Sorry Sir, I am not Sam. You on the other hand - are you Dean, by any chance ?" the voice asked. Dean’s breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t swallow anymore. His stomach turned upside down.
"Yeah. Where’s Sam? " he spat immediately, not caring about anything else at the moment.
"I’m calling you on behalf of the Saint Vincent Mercy Hospital. Sam Wesson has been in a car accident and brought here for examination. He’s been asking for you and we’ve found your number in his emergency contacts" the lady explained.
The information sank into Dean’s mind and before he could realize what was happening, he was standing up in the room and pacing nervously while clutching his phone so hard that his fingers turned white.
"Car accident? What the hell?! Is he okay? " he managed to ask when his breath returned and he felt like he could speak again.
"I am not allowed to give you that information over the phone. You have to come here so I can validate your identity and then you can be updated on Sam’s condition. Is that okay with you" she asked.
Dean wasn’t thinking. He had already grabbed his coat and was out of the door in a matter of seconds.
"I’m on my way" he said before hanging up the phone. Damn it, Sam he muttered between clenched teeth. It only took him a ride to the restaurant in order to get himself into trouble.
The eldest hotwired the first adequate car he spotted and he wouldn’t even remember how he got to the Hospital in the first place after driving so fast to get there, his mind set on one thing and one thing only.
He must’ve looked different or even suspicious because somehow the doctor came towards him instinctively.
"Mister Wesson?" he asked. Dean nodded.
"How’s my brother?" he spat directly, wanting to cut to the chase. Only one thing mattered to him and that one thing was God knows where in this Hospital and in God knows what state.
"I’m Dr Jones, the other mister Wesson’s attending physician" he introduced. Dean shook his head.
"His name’s Sam" he snapped, not thinking of his brother as another file or patient number.
"Then I’m Sam’s physician" he tried again. Dean nodded, but he obviously didn’t care much about that.
"How is he?" he asked again, dying for someone to just answer his question.
"Don’t worry, Mister Wesson, Sam’s going to be just fine" the Doctor assured. Dean nodded, but the obvious frown of incredulity didn’t leave his face until he knew more about his brother’s condition.
"Sam’s injuries are minor and not life threatening. He’s suffered a mild concussion from the impact, but that’s about it. He may feel sore for a couple of days, but that’s to be expected. If ever the stiffness doesn’t pass, he should come back here for further testing, but the x-rays we already ran showed no serious physical injury. Your brother was very lucky and he should recover quickly" the man assured.
Dean was happy to hear that Sam was okay, but something still bugged him. His brother was still hurt after all.
"We want to keep him overnight though, only for observation. Sam was slightly dehydrated when he came in so we started him on an IV. Now I’d still like to ask you a few questions, Mister Wesson" the Doctor announced.
Dean frowned but he nodded.
"It’s about Sam’s lifestyle" Dr Jones continued. Dean shivered.
"Is he eating properly? Getting enough sleep? Stuff like that" he started. Dean shrugged.
"Well he’s been sick for a few days. Kid’s got the flu. He wasn’t exactly starving for food at the time" Dean tried. The Doctor nodded.
"I can understand that but still, I am concerned about him as he seems to lack important nutriments in his diet" the man continued.
Dean nodded sadly. "I told him to lay low on fast food" he replied with a look of regret painted on his face.
The Doctor acknowledged Dean’s answer before continuing.
"I must admit though, what worried me the most were the numerous fading bruises and scars…" he started.
Dean tensed. His voice came out more aggressive than before.
"We’re mechanics. That’s what happens with physical jobs" he hissed.
The Doctor nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. He chose to shrug it off anyway, not liking the threatening look on Dean's face.
"You said he’s been sick for a few days?" he asked, changing the subject.
Dean frowned. "Yes, why? Does that have anything to do with it?" he asked concerned. If it did than he was the guilty one for letting his brother leave the motel for food.
"Did he take anything before driving? It could be anything bought in a drugstore that prevents flu for example" the Doctor asked. Dean blanched. His heart skipped a few beats. He’d given Sam flu medication that morning.
"Yeah… well… like you said, flu meds" Dean stuttered. The other man sighed.
"There are certain types of pills that are sold openly and that can cause drowsiness. Allergy pills and flu pills are the most common type. It is contraindicated to take them before driving. We believe it’s what caused the accident and led to Sam falling asleep behind the wheel" he finally concluded.
Dean felt his intestines tie into knots. He had given those pills to Sam and had thrown him on the road. He should have known. He could’ve killed Sam.
"Make sure he checks the indications and the fine prints on the label next time he takes this kind of pills" the Doctor proposed. Dean nodded, but took a mental note for himself. He swallowed and found it increasingly hard to breathe through the guilt.
"As for Sam, he’ll be okay. Make sure he rests for the next few days and if he complains about headaches, you can give him acetaminophen for the pain. Do not use aspirins or ibuprofen though as it has a tendency to thin the blood and could lead to bleedings. Also, he should lay low on activities that require a lot of mental attention" the Doctor explained.
Dean nodded, but he knew that already. He’d taken care of Sam too many times already and he knew too well how his brother reacted when he was hurt. He didn’t need anyone telling him how to take care of Sam.
"Can I see him?" Dean asked suddenly, just wanting to cross the distance that separated him from his brother. The Doctor nodded and led him to Sam’s room where he left him.
Dean entered slowly and dragged his feet up to the bed. Sam was sleeping with an IV line connected to his arm. Dean thought his brother didn’t look too bad, but he still felt guilty. He took a seat next to the bed and watched the youngest for a few seconds.
"Dean?"
His eyes opened wide and he looked up at his brother’s face. The kid’s eyes were still closed, but he was apparently awake.
"Sam? You awake?"
He studied his little brother’s face.
"I’m sorry" Sam started.
Dean frowned.
"What for?"
"The car…" Sam started, but Dean cut him off.
"Don’t worry about the car, man" he snapped.
Sam finally opened his eyes and Dean could see the glassy hazel-green orbs staring back at him.
"But Dean…" he whined, his eyes turning full puppy-dog style again.
Dean shook his head.
"I don’t care about the car" he snapped aggressively. He didn’t mean to be so harsh, but he wouldn’t hear Sam blaming himself for anything.
Not now.
He breathed deeply and closed his eyes for a few seconds before returning them to his brother.
"What happened, Sam? "
Sam looked up and then down before swallowing nervously.
"I think… I fell asleep" he confessed guiltily. Dean rubbed his hands nervously across his face and then through his hair.
"And you didn’t think about stopping and calling me? I could’ve picked you up!" he admonished.
Sam looked like a beaten puppy.
"I’m sorry" he repeated.
Dean was fuming now.
"Sorry that you could’ve gotten yourself killed?! " he snapped. Sam looked up with unshed tears in his eyes.
Their eyes met and Dean’s heart broke knowing that it was his fault only. But he just couldn’t bring himself to tell that to Sam. He couldn’t admit what he had done because he felt bad enough without confirming to his brother that he had failed him.
"I just wanted to do something for you without needing you to cover up for me. I didn’t want to let you down" Sam admitted on a vulnerable voice.
Dean shattered from the inside. That was too much like Sam to get into trouble without telling Dean, just so he wouldn’t worry his big brother.
But that’s what scared him the most.
"Well next time, call me. I’d rather pick you up on the side of the road than at the ER or even worse, at the morgue" he growled, but his voice wasn’t angry anymore.
Sam could hear it. Even though Dean wouldn’t say it. He could tell how Dean had been scared and still was.
He finally nodded.
"Ok, next time I will"
It was Dean’s turn to nod.
"Good"
Without any other word, a big deal had been sealed between them.
Dean had signed up for a lifetime of looking after Sam and always caring more about the kid than anything else around them. Even though he wouldn’t show it openly, he didn’t mind taking care of his brother and in his very own way had promised to always be there for him if Sam needed it. That worked even when they were mad at each other.
On the other hand, Sam had promised without actual words that he would let Dean in. That he wouldn’t hide things from his brother and that he would trust him no matter what happened between them.
But nothing of this had been said with explicit words, because that’s not how Winchesters worked. They didn’t fall into chick flicks and heart-to-heart confessions of their deepest feelings.
But just each other’s presence was testimony to the fact that they wanted to be there and that they would do anything for the other.
"Stop blaming yourself" Sam spat from the passenger seat when Dean drove him back to the motel room in the stolen car.
Dean looked at Sam as if he’d grown a second head.
"Your guilt is radiating up to here so stop it, okay. Whatever you think you did, I’m not blaming you for it so stop blaming yourself!" he continued.
Dean suddenly smiled.
"Thanks for the advice, Dr Phil" he joked.
Sam smiled. He’d missed the teasing.
"Whatever, jerk" he muttered silently.
They looked at each other and drove on, laughing.
Author: lauehime
Rating: Gen.
Genre/pairing: Angst, H/C, Family, Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word count: +/- 4,300
Warnings: none.
Summary: Dean's always there to take care of Sam when his brother is sick and this time is no exception. Only, in his desire to help he might want to make sure that he doesn't hurt Sam even more in the process. Set season 5.
Disclaimer: The show belongs to Kripke.
A/N: Feedback is love. Enjoy!
SNSNSN
When Sam started to come to, the first thing he noticed was how crappy he felt. His heartbeat pounded against his skull, making him dizzy and nauseous at the same time. He sniffled his nose only to notice the pressure he felt pushing behind his cheeks and up to his forehead. He’d been off for a couple of days now, complaining about headaches and sore throats. There was no mistaking it anymore, he was getting sick.
The youngest Winchester hated getting sick. He thought it was silly that a normal flu could knock him on his ass in a way few of the things he hunted could. After all, he fought demons and monsters all the time and he was used to broken bones and concussions by now. But none of them really scared or annoyed him. Of course, he would never be happy if he got himself or Dean physically hurt in a hunt, but he didn’t mind it as much because he could just stitch up the bleeding wounds and drown the pain with a pill to make it more bearable.
Sam was a tough guy when it came to manhandling his bruises and broken ribs. But he hated being sick. Sickness made him vulnerable and wimpy. He just wanted to crawl into bed and curl up in the heat. That wasn’t something he could deal with with a swig of whiskey and a couple of pain killers. He didn’t do sickness. He couldn’t just avoid it like dodging a blow to the head. It came without permission.
A groan escaped his lips before he could stop it. He’d heard the door open and the shifting of curtains when a violent bright light assaulted him. He spun to the side and brought the comforter above his eyes to shield himself from the piercing day light.
Dean sighed. He just came back to the motel room to find Sam still in bed. He thought his entrance would enlighten his moody little brother, but all he got was a loud groan when he pulled the curtains apart from the window, letting the room breathe in a little bit of sunlight. He saw Sam roll under the covers with his usual moody face and figured he’d be stuck in this situation again today. He’d seen how his brother had been off for a few days now.
So many years of being a big brother taught him that. He knew each and every one of Sam’s expressions and their very own signification. His little brother thought he’d done a good job at hiding it, but Dean knew him too well. He could have written a book about understanding little Sam Winchester and each of his different bitchfaces - as Dean liked to call them. This one was no exception. Dean had heard the sniffles and the muffled coughs. He’d seen the way Sam rubbed his throat when he thought his big brother wasn’t looking. He’d also seen that pattern when Sam brought shaky fingers to his temples and ran circles on his skin with the tips of his fingers.
Of course he wasn’t stupid. He knew his brother was getting sick. He didn’t like it much more than Sam did when the kid got sick. Sam had a tendency to get wimpy and most of all, sloppy on the job. Dean couldn’t risk having over six feet tall of lanky little brothers slowing him down on the job. Not with the kind of work they did. If Sam was out of it, he’d be a liability and that’s something both of them knew. It also explained why his brother didn’t come to him and chose instead to hide his symptoms. Sam didn’t want to hold Dean back by fear of making his big brother angry.
Dean sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It’s not that he didn’t like Sam. He just didn’t put ‘taking care of sick little brothers’ on his list of favorite activities. There were things more important to him like ‘not having to watch after sick little brothers’. But whenever he turned his back, Sam just seemed to appear with some new issue to deal with. Dean started to think that the kid was such a light weight…
He pushed it aside for the moment, knowing too well that big brother duty called again. He set the plastic bag he’d been dragging on the small table near the window and gave Sam’s infinitely long legs a soft shove.
"Hey princess, you goin’ to sleep all day ?" he teased but something in his tone was still serious. Was it worry or bitterness, Sam couldn’t quite tell. Dean would be annoyed with him lately, but he always cared for him when he was hurt - although complaining about Sam being such a girl. The little brother couldn’t be mad at him for the teasing though. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention. At least this way he knew his big brother was always there for him, no matter what.
Another groan escaped his parched lips and he pulled his eyes out of his refuge only to shoot a glare at his brother whom was now eyeing him with - there was no mistaking it now - concern in his eyes.
"The light… " he started but Dean cut him off.
"Will do you good, Sammy! You’re not a vampire, but you’re starting to look like one" the big brother teased.
Sam rolled his eyes and gave Dean his best pouty-annoyed face.
"Dude, seriously, you look like crap!" he continued. Sam sighed and looked down, avoiding his brother’s eyes.
"I feel like it too" he whispered. Dean nodded and walked back to the table where he had put down the bag he’d brought home to the motel room. He pulled out a small box and looked at his brother again. Sam was squinting at the bright light in an effort to keep his eyes on his brother.
"I know you do. Here, I got this for you" he said, throwing the box across the bed and where Sam could easily reach it. The youngest grabbed the box and checked the label. It was flu medication and suddenly the youngest was so grateful to have his big brother around.
"Thanks, D. You knew ?" he asked shyly, ripping the side of the box and already digging around for the pills. Dean reached the bathroom to pour his brother a glass of water before coming back to the kid’s side and handing it over to him.
"Do you think I’m stupid, or what ? I think I knew even before you did" Dean snapped. Sam bowed his head and accepted the water with a nod.
He gulped the pills and washed them down in a second. The water felt like a blessing on his sore throat.
"My head feels like it’s going to implode" Sam wheezed.
"Yeah and you sound like an old lady who’s been smoking two packs a day for forty years" Dean joked and couldn’t help the smile that crept on his lips as soon as the comment slipped out of his mouth. Sam snorted and rolled his eyes at the joke, but Dean didn’t miss the grin Sam tried so hard to hide as well.
And then it was time to be serious again. Dean pulled on his straight face and cleared his throat. "We’ll have to wait a few days before getting back on the road. I can’t have you screwing up on a hunt because your sneezing scares the monsters away" he decided. Sam turned to him with his puppy-dog eyes filled with pain. He knew what this meant for Dean and he felt like he was holding him back again.
"Dean, I can still…" he started, but couldn’t finish his thought when his brother interrupted him.
"No you can’t. You’re sick and you may as well get us both killed. End of discussion" Dean announced. Sam sighed and looked down at his hands in defeat. When his brother got that serious tone, there was nothing he could do to change his mind. Winchesters were a stubborn species after all.
"I’m sorry" was all the youngest thought he could say in front of his authoritative big brother. "I know I’m holding you back" he added when he saw that Dean was still tensed up and hardly looking at him.
He knew his brother was mad and that made it so much worse. A few days off with an angry big brother wasn’t his definition of a healthy convalescence.
"Whatever, Sam…" Dean breathed and sat on his own bed with his cleaning equipment and his guns.
Working on something was probably going to keep him busy for a while and maybe he wouldn’t be so cranky from being forced to step back from hunting.
"Dean" Sam started on a pleading tone, looking over at his big brother who was pulling his gun apart to rub the pieces clean.
"If you’re looking for something to do, you can get us some food. Wouldn’t hurt you to do something. Unless you're too sick for that too" Dean proposed, not looking up from his work. Sam looked perplexed for a few seconds.
"’m not hungry" he finally replied. Dean rolled his eyes and looked up at Sam for the first time.
"You haven’t been eating in days, Sam. You need to eat if you want to get your strength back and get out of here" he hissed. Sam winced. His brother did have a point though and because he didn’t want to have Dean on his back for as long as they were stuck there, he didn’t see too many other options there.
"And I got you the pills, you may as well get me some food" Dean added. Sam frowned.
"Well thank you, Dean. But if it bothers you so much, why did you do it in the first place? I didn’t ask you to and it’s not my fault I got sick!" Sam started to fight back. Dean clenched his jaw. He didn’t really want to deal with his brother’s blubbering.
"Then suck it up! I’m stuck here as much as you are…" Dean snapped back. Sam swallowed and looked at his brother with pain in his eyes.
"Alright then. I’ll be back shortly" the youngest announced in defeat.
Sam grabbed a large hoodie to snuggle into and hide the tremors in his long limbs. He picked up the car keys and left the room. For a second, Dean let his hands drop in front of him and looked in the direction he’d last seen his brother. Sam had gone through a lot worse than the flu in his life. It’s not that he didn’t trust his brother either. He just didn’t want anything to happen to Sam while he was vulnerable.
Maybe that sounded too overprotective, but he’d seen the kid get beat up too many times and he wouldn’t let that happen again if he could prevent it. He mentally pushed himself to stop being a sap and resumed his cleaning task.
SNSNSN
Sam walked out of the little diner carrying a brown paper bag of food. He’d gotten Dean the greasiest burger he found on the menu and had gotten himself a lighter meal even though his stomach was churning and he really didn’t feel like keeping anything down at the moment.
The drive to the diner had been a challenging race. A few times, Sam had zoned out and swerved back into track just in time to avoid crashing into a parked car or a telephone pole. His heart started racing at the idea of getting back to the motel. His arms were shaky and his hands clammy.
He found out that he was having a hard time keeping his hands clasped firmly on the steering wheel.
He started the drive back and his eyes swam in and out of focus. He was confused and worried, because no flu would usually do that to him. What the hell? he thought as he shook his head once more in an attempt to clear his head into focus.
His eyes were drooping. For a second, he thought about pulling over and calling his brother. But Dean would be mad at him. He couldn’t even get a simple task done. Getting diner wasn’t supposed to be that much of a challenge. Maybe he was really holding his brother back after all.
As his last train of thought trailed off, he realized how tired he was. Just for a second, he thought that maybe it wouldn’t hurt him too much to give in to his body’s needs. His eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. Closing them for just a few seconds would make him feel better, wouldn’t it?
SNSNSN
Dean’s actions were angry. He couldn’t focus on the task anymore. All he kept thinking about was how long ago Sam had gone to get the food and how he still wasn’t back. The eldest’s mind kept wandering around into dark scenarios, but he would push them away violently, getting angry with himself for having such thoughts.
Of course nothing had happened to Sam. He was just overreacting. His brother was probably taking so long only to get back at him for sending him out. It couldn’t be anything else.
His hands started shaking at how hard it was getting to convince himself that Sam was fine. Every additional second on the clock was like a direct blow to his guts. It was one more second where Sam wasn’t home, one more second where he could be slipping away from him.
But what the hell was taking so long, really? If Sam had been in trouble, he would have called Dean.
The eldest picked his phone up and stared at it as if it would give him the answers.
But time went by and there still weren’t any signs that Sam would be showing up soon.
Dean’s heart was beating incredibly faster. He was wrestling with his inner voice to not run out of the motel and look for his kid brother. His big brother alarm was screeching in his head. He was very close to losing it.
He stared at his phone once more when it suddenly starting ringing right into his hand and under his waiting eyes. His heart skipped a few beats, but he ignored the fear and pulled the phone open.
"Sam?" he asked directly, not even thinking that somebody else than Sam could be on the other hand of the phone.
"Sorry Sir, I am not Sam. You on the other hand - are you Dean, by any chance ?" the voice asked. Dean’s breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t swallow anymore. His stomach turned upside down.
"Yeah. Where’s Sam? " he spat immediately, not caring about anything else at the moment.
"I’m calling you on behalf of the Saint Vincent Mercy Hospital. Sam Wesson has been in a car accident and brought here for examination. He’s been asking for you and we’ve found your number in his emergency contacts" the lady explained.
The information sank into Dean’s mind and before he could realize what was happening, he was standing up in the room and pacing nervously while clutching his phone so hard that his fingers turned white.
"Car accident? What the hell?! Is he okay? " he managed to ask when his breath returned and he felt like he could speak again.
"I am not allowed to give you that information over the phone. You have to come here so I can validate your identity and then you can be updated on Sam’s condition. Is that okay with you" she asked.
Dean wasn’t thinking. He had already grabbed his coat and was out of the door in a matter of seconds.
"I’m on my way" he said before hanging up the phone. Damn it, Sam he muttered between clenched teeth. It only took him a ride to the restaurant in order to get himself into trouble.
The eldest hotwired the first adequate car he spotted and he wouldn’t even remember how he got to the Hospital in the first place after driving so fast to get there, his mind set on one thing and one thing only.
He must’ve looked different or even suspicious because somehow the doctor came towards him instinctively.
"Mister Wesson?" he asked. Dean nodded.
"How’s my brother?" he spat directly, wanting to cut to the chase. Only one thing mattered to him and that one thing was God knows where in this Hospital and in God knows what state.
"I’m Dr Jones, the other mister Wesson’s attending physician" he introduced. Dean shook his head.
"His name’s Sam" he snapped, not thinking of his brother as another file or patient number.
"Then I’m Sam’s physician" he tried again. Dean nodded, but he obviously didn’t care much about that.
"How is he?" he asked again, dying for someone to just answer his question.
"Don’t worry, Mister Wesson, Sam’s going to be just fine" the Doctor assured. Dean nodded, but the obvious frown of incredulity didn’t leave his face until he knew more about his brother’s condition.
"Sam’s injuries are minor and not life threatening. He’s suffered a mild concussion from the impact, but that’s about it. He may feel sore for a couple of days, but that’s to be expected. If ever the stiffness doesn’t pass, he should come back here for further testing, but the x-rays we already ran showed no serious physical injury. Your brother was very lucky and he should recover quickly" the man assured.
Dean was happy to hear that Sam was okay, but something still bugged him. His brother was still hurt after all.
"We want to keep him overnight though, only for observation. Sam was slightly dehydrated when he came in so we started him on an IV. Now I’d still like to ask you a few questions, Mister Wesson" the Doctor announced.
Dean frowned but he nodded.
"It’s about Sam’s lifestyle" Dr Jones continued. Dean shivered.
"Is he eating properly? Getting enough sleep? Stuff like that" he started. Dean shrugged.
"Well he’s been sick for a few days. Kid’s got the flu. He wasn’t exactly starving for food at the time" Dean tried. The Doctor nodded.
"I can understand that but still, I am concerned about him as he seems to lack important nutriments in his diet" the man continued.
Dean nodded sadly. "I told him to lay low on fast food" he replied with a look of regret painted on his face.
The Doctor acknowledged Dean’s answer before continuing.
"I must admit though, what worried me the most were the numerous fading bruises and scars…" he started.
Dean tensed. His voice came out more aggressive than before.
"We’re mechanics. That’s what happens with physical jobs" he hissed.
The Doctor nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. He chose to shrug it off anyway, not liking the threatening look on Dean's face.
"You said he’s been sick for a few days?" he asked, changing the subject.
Dean frowned. "Yes, why? Does that have anything to do with it?" he asked concerned. If it did than he was the guilty one for letting his brother leave the motel for food.
"Did he take anything before driving? It could be anything bought in a drugstore that prevents flu for example" the Doctor asked. Dean blanched. His heart skipped a few beats. He’d given Sam flu medication that morning.
"Yeah… well… like you said, flu meds" Dean stuttered. The other man sighed.
"There are certain types of pills that are sold openly and that can cause drowsiness. Allergy pills and flu pills are the most common type. It is contraindicated to take them before driving. We believe it’s what caused the accident and led to Sam falling asleep behind the wheel" he finally concluded.
Dean felt his intestines tie into knots. He had given those pills to Sam and had thrown him on the road. He should have known. He could’ve killed Sam.
"Make sure he checks the indications and the fine prints on the label next time he takes this kind of pills" the Doctor proposed. Dean nodded, but took a mental note for himself. He swallowed and found it increasingly hard to breathe through the guilt.
"As for Sam, he’ll be okay. Make sure he rests for the next few days and if he complains about headaches, you can give him acetaminophen for the pain. Do not use aspirins or ibuprofen though as it has a tendency to thin the blood and could lead to bleedings. Also, he should lay low on activities that require a lot of mental attention" the Doctor explained.
Dean nodded, but he knew that already. He’d taken care of Sam too many times already and he knew too well how his brother reacted when he was hurt. He didn’t need anyone telling him how to take care of Sam.
"Can I see him?" Dean asked suddenly, just wanting to cross the distance that separated him from his brother. The Doctor nodded and led him to Sam’s room where he left him.
Dean entered slowly and dragged his feet up to the bed. Sam was sleeping with an IV line connected to his arm. Dean thought his brother didn’t look too bad, but he still felt guilty. He took a seat next to the bed and watched the youngest for a few seconds.
"Dean?"
His eyes opened wide and he looked up at his brother’s face. The kid’s eyes were still closed, but he was apparently awake.
"Sam? You awake?"
He studied his little brother’s face.
"I’m sorry" Sam started.
Dean frowned.
"What for?"
"The car…" Sam started, but Dean cut him off.
"Don’t worry about the car, man" he snapped.
Sam finally opened his eyes and Dean could see the glassy hazel-green orbs staring back at him.
"But Dean…" he whined, his eyes turning full puppy-dog style again.
Dean shook his head.
"I don’t care about the car" he snapped aggressively. He didn’t mean to be so harsh, but he wouldn’t hear Sam blaming himself for anything.
Not now.
He breathed deeply and closed his eyes for a few seconds before returning them to his brother.
"What happened, Sam? "
Sam looked up and then down before swallowing nervously.
"I think… I fell asleep" he confessed guiltily. Dean rubbed his hands nervously across his face and then through his hair.
"And you didn’t think about stopping and calling me? I could’ve picked you up!" he admonished.
Sam looked like a beaten puppy.
"I’m sorry" he repeated.
Dean was fuming now.
"Sorry that you could’ve gotten yourself killed?! " he snapped. Sam looked up with unshed tears in his eyes.
Their eyes met and Dean’s heart broke knowing that it was his fault only. But he just couldn’t bring himself to tell that to Sam. He couldn’t admit what he had done because he felt bad enough without confirming to his brother that he had failed him.
"I just wanted to do something for you without needing you to cover up for me. I didn’t want to let you down" Sam admitted on a vulnerable voice.
Dean shattered from the inside. That was too much like Sam to get into trouble without telling Dean, just so he wouldn’t worry his big brother.
But that’s what scared him the most.
"Well next time, call me. I’d rather pick you up on the side of the road than at the ER or even worse, at the morgue" he growled, but his voice wasn’t angry anymore.
Sam could hear it. Even though Dean wouldn’t say it. He could tell how Dean had been scared and still was.
He finally nodded.
"Ok, next time I will"
It was Dean’s turn to nod.
"Good"
Without any other word, a big deal had been sealed between them.
Dean had signed up for a lifetime of looking after Sam and always caring more about the kid than anything else around them. Even though he wouldn’t show it openly, he didn’t mind taking care of his brother and in his very own way had promised to always be there for him if Sam needed it. That worked even when they were mad at each other.
On the other hand, Sam had promised without actual words that he would let Dean in. That he wouldn’t hide things from his brother and that he would trust him no matter what happened between them.
But nothing of this had been said with explicit words, because that’s not how Winchesters worked. They didn’t fall into chick flicks and heart-to-heart confessions of their deepest feelings.
But just each other’s presence was testimony to the fact that they wanted to be there and that they would do anything for the other.
"Stop blaming yourself" Sam spat from the passenger seat when Dean drove him back to the motel room in the stolen car.
Dean looked at Sam as if he’d grown a second head.
"Your guilt is radiating up to here so stop it, okay. Whatever you think you did, I’m not blaming you for it so stop blaming yourself!" he continued.
Dean suddenly smiled.
"Thanks for the advice, Dr Phil" he joked.
Sam smiled. He’d missed the teasing.
"Whatever, jerk" he muttered silently.
They looked at each other and drove on, laughing.