Hi peeps out there. I hope everyone is enjoying season 7 as much as I am. It rocks! Anyway, I'm back to give the fandom another oneshot. This came to me when I was trying to fall asleep last night. Random but I liked it. So I tried my best to write it out. Like most of my ideas, it changed when it hit the (digital) paper. I was happy with the end result though. Hope you like it too. Just some (random) hurt!Sam and brotherly fluff. Enjoy. :)
Dean and I sat quietly in the Impala as it sped softly across the deserted, twisty road. We had just left the motel room, where once again a leviathan had tried to kill us. Thankfully, Don Stark, a witch who we reunited with his wife, Maggie, also a witch, had saved our asses twice and had even knocked the creature out. It was smuggled into the backseat of the car, still unconscious as Dean drove to our cabin in Montana for an interrogation. The little bastard would have to say something useful under the torture it would endure. There had to be some way to kill or weaken them but we needed to try out any ideas we had on this one first and see from there.
We were about an hour on the road, if you can call it one. It was rough and in a poorer shape then most. We had driven on it before, but it felt a whole lot worse this time. It was probably because my ribs were killing me at the moment. That bitch… I mean witch had knocked me one a few times back at her house while her husband had smacked Dean around. Apart from a fresh fear of bees, he was fine but my ribs were on the sensitive side. That damn leviathan hadn't helped a bit either.
I didn't mention any of this to Dean though because I know how he gets. He'd be pissed I didn't tell him at first and then concerned a second later because of what he'll jump to as a broken rib or two. So I kept still to avoid jolting my body, just enough so I don't gasp in obvious pain. This road was making it very difficult to do though. We hit another bump on the stony road from hell and I clench my teeth tightly. My face screws up strangely and I turn to my window to avoid any possible eye contact from Dean. It passes a few seconds later and I turn back to face the front.
I chance a glance at Dean and see that he doesn't even notice me. He seems to be too preoccupied with his driving. Or whatever the hell is going on in his head. I know there's something bugging him that he isn't telling me. I have a bad feeling it isn't good either. I don't want to push him too much though, especially considering the way he shot down my advice about talking earlier. I know I'll get it out of him eventually but for now it's worrying me a little. I'd hate to think that he did something bad or got himself into trouble.
Another bump from the road rocks me and I once again clench my teeth. There's no way a road can be this rough! I clutch at the right side of my abdomen just under my chest, feeling for my ribs before subconsciously pressing my hand over them. Just as I rest it comfortably, another jerk makes the Impala jump. My hand digs into my side and I gasp uncontrollably, feeling a fire grow under the skin there.
"Sam!", Dean exclaims, his face suddenly alarmed.
He pulls over to the side of the road immediately, careful to slow down properly to a complete stop. As the car stills, I realise that my breathing has intensified. Dean turns to look at me, making a quick scan of my body for obvious injuries but upon seeing none, stares me straight in the eye.
"Sam, what's wrong?", he asks, his tone one of a worried sibling.
"I, eh, nothing, I'm ok", I try to lie, badly if I might add.
Dean's eyes flash, but this time with anger, "Cut the crap, Sammy. I know you're hurt somewhere, now stop lying and just tell me".
There it is, he's pissed. Yeah, there's no way of getting out of this. I've come to realise in the last few years that Dean calls me Sammy for different reasons. He says it to mess with me or sometimes embarrass me. He says it to comfort me. He says it when he's worried or concerned about me. When he's telling me to be careful. When he's relieved to see I'm alright. Even when he's calling out to me. But he also says it when he's scared. Scared for me, scared for himself. Or angry. Or upset. Or when he's lost hope. I don't think he even notices that he calls me Sammy sometimes, it just slips out because it's such a natural thing now. I don't even mind anymore. I even like it, when he's not mocking me.
"Sam! Come on, you have to give me something. Where are you hurt? And why didn't you tell me?", Dean demands gruffly.
Yeah, he's pissed.
I sigh in defeat and rub at my ribs gently. "My ribs. I think she might have cracked one".
I wait for Dean's response, expecting for him to either lash out or stay worried. "Sam", he sighs in return, the anger slipping away into nothing.
He moves forward towards me and I flinch slightly. "Just let me have a look, ok. I'll be gentle", Dean says softly.
I catch his eye as I nod yes. There it is, the concern and worry for my health and safety. Big brother's out in full force. I move my hand and place it on my knee so that Dean can check my delicate bones. He does as he says, carefully prodding my ribs with his light fingers. I relax into his touch, comforted by him just being here. He presses into my side for a few more seconds before pulling back.
He looks me over one more time, "Is that the only place you're hurt?", he asks, his eyes sharp with a 'be honest' look.
"Yes", I mutter, placing my hand back on the tender area.
"Ok. Well, you didn't break any but you might have cracked one. Just take it easy, we'll be at Bobby's soon. I'll patch you up when we get there", Dean replies, turning back to the road, the Impala rumbling to life a second later.
He begins to drive again, but this time he's noticeably slower, easing gently over anymore bumps we encounter. We elapse into silence once again. The Impala travels so slow that I feel like we're moving at a snail's pace. I peek at Dean from the corner of my eye to see a stern look on his face and watch him clutch the steering wheel intensely. His eyes are fiery, like he's still irritated.
Great.
"Dean?", I utter tentatively.
"Why didn't you tell me you were injured Sam?", he fires back immediately, more frustrated than angry.
Like I wasn't expecting that.
"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't think it was anything", I reply sincerely. I'm used to getting flung around by ghosts, or witches in this case.
"Is that why you were clenching your teeth every time we hit a bump back there?", Dean asks.
I turn to him in surprise. I'd thought that he hadn't seen me. Dean glances at me in a slight triumph, knowing he's caught me out. "I, eh…", I attempt to answer.
"Yeah Sammy, I'm not blind. Especially when you're sitting about half a metre away from me", he mocks.
I blush slightly and roll my eyes in response.
"So, you thought it was nothing then, huh?".
"At first, yeah. The jumpy road changed my mind though".
"I wonder why", he replies with a small smirk. Trust Dean to make a snarky comment.
"Seriously though, if you ever fail to mention anymore future injuries that you think you may possibly have, I'm going to drive my baby over a crappy road full of bumps and potholes just to piss you off", Dean states, half serious, half teasing.
I can't help the grin that appears on my face after hearing the threat.
"Thanks Dean", I mumble quietly, understanding the hidden message in his words.
"For what, not slaughtering you like I should have. I can still speed up and hit the brakes suddenly if you like", Dean taunts but secretly grins to himself at the gratitude displayed.
"No thanks. Jerk", I retaliate.
"Tell me if you change your mind. Bitch".
We both smile and glance at each other briefly. A sudden sensation of nostalgia spreads throughout the Impala. It feels like old times again, when we hunted ghosts and other once off creatures. When our relationship was stronger then ever. I think things are getting better though. We'll never be like we used to be, but the basis will always be there. Dean won't ever stop taking care of me. Or getting pissed when I lie about injuries. I'll always be there for him too, watching his back.
We won't stop being brothers.
That connection is what keeps us going. It took me a long time to understand, but I know that nothing can ever fully break that bond. Cause somehow we always manage to repair it. Like we're doing now. It's the little things like Dean being concerned for me or our playful bickering that puts a piece back into the link. I lean back further into the comforting leather seat of what really is our home. I rub gently at my ribs but feel the pain start to subside anyway. Dean's presence seems to help alone.
I breath peacefully and look out the window at the retreating sun, changing the sky from a light blue to an orangey pink. I reach out to the radio and press the play button, turning on Dean's favourite Led Zeppelin CD. I crank the volume up more so that the guitar intro to Ramble On fills the car. Dean visibly smirks and speeds up just a little in tune to the rhythm.
"Aw Sammy, I knew you were a secret fan", Dean larks, clapping me on the shoulder.
I chuckle as Dean begins to sing to the chorus. I join in, forgetting about my ribs and enjoying the moment, never feeling more grateful that Dean was my big brother.
For the first time in a long while, I felt carefree. I even let Dean play the whole CD.
Twice.
Hope you liked it. Reviews would be nice. :)