Fic: Wild By Skye (2/27)
Four weeks later, in some shit-hole inn outside of Memphis, Sam rolled over in his sleep and the flare of pain in his hip woke him. He'd caught the claw of a chupacabra on his left hip earlier that day. It wasn't bad, as far as Winchester injuries went. Sam was more pissed that he'd let the creature catch him unaware than he was wounded. Dean had stitched him up, given him a pain killer, and put him to bed. For a while, Sam slept the death-like sleep of the happily medicated. Then the pain medication had worn off and rolling on to his left side jerked Sam wide awake.
He hissed involuntarily into the night then froze when he came around to the fact it was the middle of night.
'Don't wake Dean,' his mind chanted. Dean hadn't been wounded as badly as Sam, but he'd taken his fair share of abuse on this one. The chupacabra was the biggest Sam had ever seen, and with its size it had developed a matching attitude. It had been intent on evading the hunters, and when that failed it the beast had fought back. Both brothers felt its goat-sucking wrath. By the time Dean finally had it cornered and helpless, he took considerable pleasure in killing it.
Something hurting his little brother brought out that bloodthirstiness in Dean.
Sam rolled flat on to his back with care, mindful of Dean resting only a few feet away. He lay with arms open wide and feet almost hanging off the end of the too-short bed.
Despite the fact Dean had to be dead tired, Sam was surprised he hadn't already been greeted with a sleepy 'Sammy?' at his waking in pain. Dean's instincts were fine-tuned like that… seemed Sam had to be damn lucky to skirt Dean's notice when it came to sickness or pain.
But as Sam lay there riding out the sting in his hip from putting his weight on the sutured cut, he didn't hear a sound from Dean's side of the room.
Sam counted himself lucky to duck his brother's attention until he realized it wouldn't matter. There was no way he'd be getting back to sleep without another pill. Sam had to figure chupacabras were somehow related to cats; they had the same serrated claws that left scratches that, no matter how minor, burned like a son of a bitch. He could sleep through it, but only if he could get past the road bump of initially slipping into unconsciousness.
No way Dean wouldn't stir at Sam's midnight fumbling around for a pain pill.
With a stifled groan, Sam levered himself up out of bed, favoring his left side, and scanned the room for the direction of the bathroom (the last place he vaguely remember Dean having the first aid kit).
Instead, his gaze stopped on the unoccupied second bed in the motel room.
He hadn't woken Dean because Dean wasn't there.
Holding off on thinking the worst, Sam went through the missing brother routine. He checked the bathroom, checked the state of Dean's belongings scattered throughout the room, then went to the window and looked outside. The moonlight painted all the cars in the lot a watery silver but one… the one car that wasn't there.
Dean was gone and so was the Impala.
Sam sighed in frustration and annoyance. Dean was hurt, Sam knew that, and he should be in bed resting. His brother was a nazi when it came to forcing Sam to get some rest and take it easy when he was injured, but Dean didn't seem to think the same common sense applied to him.
Sam dug out a pain pill, swallowed it with a gulp of water, then settled himself gingerly back into bed to await sleep.
As he did, he rehearsed the lecture he would give Dean the next morning.
*****
Sam tried to make his case that Dean was being negligent of his own body's need for recuperation, but Dean's downright jaunty step and sunny attitude the next morning stole a lot of Sam's thunder. How Dean managed to recharge his batteries and, not the least, heal damn near to fighting fit overnight when he had denied himself a decent night's sleep was an irksome mystery that had Sam scowling the whole day as he shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat of the Impala. He cast Dean several sour, vicious looks, but Dean had only offered a smile, turned up the volume on the cassette player, and sang louder with the music.
Sam rolled his eyes but could not deny that Dean in a good mood was infectious. By the time they stopped again for the night, Sam had decided he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth and opted to just enjoy it.
Part Three