Dean's always been the one there, comforting Sam when he had a nightmare or was hurt. When Dean has a bad nightmare its Sam's turn to play big brother. Tag- 11x17 Red Meat
A/N: Will be 2 Chapters! Omg I can't believe I wrote ANOTHER friggin tag for this episode. I am so sorry. But that was an emotional episode. I might do more tags for earlier episode. PM me if there is a particular episode you would like a tag for!
Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester...blah blah...blah. Blah. Seriously?
Sam shifted in his seat every five minutes as the discomfort from his fresh shot wound sent pains crawling up his spine if he set still for to long. Even though it was no longer bleeding thanks to the care at the center, and past being life threatening, the bandages wrapped firmly around his abdominal and enough pain killers to last him weeks, it still felt like a dozen tiny knives were being jabbed into his skin over and over again. With each unnecessary move he made came with a rather nasty jostle to the wound that had him wincing and automatically letting out a slow breath. He closed his eyes and just focused on the familiar rumble of the impala and the soft rock and roll playing through the speakers. He had his head laid against the glass in an effort to feel some kind of coolness.
"You okay?" Dean's voice came from the drivers side, laced with concern.
Sam cracked one eye open to peer at his brother, who had turned the music completely off and was eyeing him worriedly. "I'm fine. Just still hurts."
"You sure? Because man, the last twenty-four hours were a bitch. I wouldn't give you lip if you feel like stopping for the night." Dean asked without really forming the question, his eyes going from Sam, to the road and back to Sam.
To say Sam didn't look like death warmed over would be like saying one hundred mile winds couldn't do damage. When in fact, was a lie because Sam's face still carried that pale shaded color and sweat was still glistening on his forehead. Dean knew it was because Sam was still in pain. If by the way Sam continued to shift positions and wincing every time he found the wrong angle was any proof of that. Who wouldn't be after getting shot, having the bullet removed, bleeding profoundly and still finding the strength to take out three werewolves before dragging his wounded ass from the cabin to the care center? Oh, and lets not forget the whole reason Sammy had been believed to be dead in the first place. The whole Corbin thing that Dean didn't have a clue about until after the doctors had tended to his wounded brother and informed him that Sam would be just fine after a good two weeks rest. She made it very clear, however, that due to the bruising on Sam's neck and how his close encounter with death came a bit to close, that he would be very sore and would have to drink plenty of water or his throat would be a little raw.
Dean's anger went borderline. Every ounce of emotion he had been feeling since discovery his brothers broken body on the cabin floor was already threatening to take him under, only being repressed when he found out Sam wasn't dead. That didn't mean they completely went away even though his brother was still breathing because it had been to close. Way to close and those emotions were still there. Seeing Sam laying on the floor, his head turned away from Dean's direction, one hand laying limp against his chest that wasn't raising and falling like it should have been, was an image that still haunted his weary mind. Even now, with Sam by his side, a little worse for wear, but clearly still here, he still couldn't stop that image from plaguing his mind.
Then he found out what really happened while he went out to build a litter for Sam. The feeling or sorrow he still felt for seeing Sam on that grimy floor, to still, to pale, was replaced with a blinding rage. He suddenly felt the need to fill Corbin's dead corpse with every single unused bullet in his guns chamber for what he had done to Sam.
"Wait, come again?" Dean's eyes were drawn together in confusion, his mouth in a straight line as he eyed the doctor with demanding eyes.
Mrs. Kessler sighed, her gaze was sorrowful. Their was a deep apology in them that she didn't state out loud but there was also pity, too. "I'm sorry. Your brother was choked to death, in a sense."
Dean's form faltered slightly. He gave a short laugh of disbelief, his teeth showing as he tried to say something, tried to form some kind of word but he was frozen. All he could do was frown and try and keep his composure when tears suddenly threatened to form in his eyes.
"Sam will have light bruising on his neck. The pressure must have been quite harsh but in a way it saved his life. Whoever attempted to choke him didn't count on the fact that some cases do die but others are lucky enough to escape that. Their body goes into a deep shock to where their breathing will slow to the point its barely there. The pulse will also drop to a point you'd have to leave your hand on a pulse point for well over a minute to feel it."
Dean swallowed. His anger spiked, his body was tense as he clenched his hand into a fist so tight it turned his knuckles white. Sam, his brother who he left alone, dying, NOT dead, had been strangled by the very victim they saved. "You're telling me that, that son of a bitch tried to kill Sam?" He asked, his tone dangerously low.
The doctor reeled back a little at the sudden anger coming off the man in waves but nodded her head because past all the aggression he was probably holding was so many more emotions that weren't hard to see. "I'm sorry. The good news is that Sam will make a full recovery. The gun shot wound was bad but thanks to quick thinking on your part it wasn't near as bad as most. The only concern was the amount of blood he lost." She paused, allowing her words to sink in before continuing. "If you hadn't taken the bullet out and wrapped it in bandages then it would have been alot worse. Your brother owes you his life."
Dean blinked. Though he still had a active volcano going off in his head, threatening to just spill over and destroy everything in it's path, the words, 'Sam,' 'Full recovery,' and 'near as bad' caused him to breath a deep sigh of relief that Sam was going to be okay. "Thank god. Can I see him?" He asked the doctor calmly but their was desperation his the question, desperation to see for himself that his little brother was alive and well.
She smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder for a fraction of a second before bringing her hand back down to her side. "Of course. I'm sure he's waiting on you. Been saying your name quite a bit after he came out of recovery."
Dean gave his own smile of gratitude. "That's Sammy. One tough son of a bitch." He had a hint of pride in his voice.
She nodded in agreement. "Come on. I think your brother wants to see you."
Dean didn't need to be told twice. He followed the doctor down the hall towards the room his brother occupied.
Sam watched Dean out of the corner of his eyes. He took in Dean's appearance.
He didn't notice before, when he arrived at the care center to save Dean from a wolfed out Corbin. He was to focused on just getting to Dean in time that after he had shot Corbin all the adrenaline that took over his body faded away to nothing and was once again replaced with agonizing pain. His vision had got cloudy and he fell to the floor with a grunt, not even a few seconds after and the frantic call of his name before he succumbed to darkness all together.
Only waking up later on in a recovery room where he immediately found Dean at his side, worry lines and all. He was to shot up with medication that he couldn't keep his eyes open more than a minute before they closed again despite his will to stay awake. Before oblivion claimed him he did hear Dean's voice.
"Go to sleep, Sammy. I'll be here when you wake up." A voice that held so much love and comfort that Sam wondered just what all had happened before he passed out in the cabin but that was a thought that was lost with his consciousness once again.
That was where Sam found his brother once again when he woke up for good. Dean, at his side, his arms crossed as he set in a chair with his chin resting against his steadily falling chest. Fast asleep but not for long. As soon as Sam was awake and alert it was as if the air shifted and changed because Dean's eyes snapped open and he was instantly relieved at seeing Sam awake.
Sam knew something was wrong.
So when he was finally discharged and able to leave the first thing he did was question his brother.
"So what did you do? When you thought I was dead?" It was more of a statement than a question because Sam knew Dean and but what lengths he would go for him.
Dean just made a comment about re-arranging his room but Sam could see the slight flinch Dean made as soon as he asked. His brother didn't show any evidence in his features or posture that he had thought Sam was dead.
"I knew you wasn't dead." That was Dean's answer, a matter of fact, as he started the car and tore out of the lot.
Sam's not stupid. You could cover up emotions easily enough but there was one thing you couldn't always bury within four walls. The eyes were the window of the soul, Sam's heard it his whole life and looking into Dean's green orbs was like looking into a brightly lit hallway. He could see everything. He saw the depth of pain they carried and it made him shudder.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, man. I think we should stop for the night. I'm exhausted and so are you."
Dean was looking at the road but brought his attention back to Sam. He smirked. "I'm good, Sammy. You though? I gotta say you'll have to get at least a week of proper beauty sleep. You're a wreck."
Sam snorted, he shifted again, this time tuned slightly towards Dean's direction, who was watching the road again. "Shut up, jerk."
A smile tugged at the corners of Dean's mouth. "Make me, bitch."
Sam still eyed Dean wearily. Something wasn't right. Dean's shoulders were tense, his jaw was clenched and the way he gripped the steering wheel was enough force of a snake squeezing the life out of its meal. He wanted to question his brother, demand that he tell him the truth but he knew pushing Dean when he didn't want to be pushed could have harsh consequences. He dealt with his emotions differently than Sam or even their father. Dean always kept them buried deep under the surface as a way to cope with them or just not deal with them at all. Sam knows first hand the wrath Dean unleashed when those emotions were brought up and came to the surface.
He was on the receiving end of quite a few of his brothers punches as a result.
But Sam couldn't help but feel something was seriously wrong and he definitely wanted to push.
"Here. Lets call it a night." Dean bent his head down slightly, his eyes going to the well lit sign for a motel residence.
Sam followed his line of sight and had to bit back a groan and eye roll at the name that brightly blinked in a ray of colors of the motel Dean was now pulling in to. "Seriously? Dreamstate Motel? Who names a motel Dreamstate?"
Dean pulled up to the front entrance and put the car in park but didn't shut the engine off. "Apparently, not everyone can pick cool names. Crappy name with crappy motel. Seems about right." He patted Sam's shoulder playfully but the grin Dean gave didn't reach his ears like it usually did.
"Dean-" Sam was about to ask his brother what happened back at the care center but was interrupted by the squeak of the car door and Dean's, "Be right back."
Sam sighed and shook his head. His brother always knew how to avoid something he didn't want to face. He was stubborn and always held his guard no matter what situation he was in. When it came to Sam, he put on his game face and acted like nothing bothered him. When Sam questioned it, well Dean always smiled and either said, "I'm Fine, drop it Sammy," or "Nothing's wrong, quit asking."
Each time Sam would be disappointed. Dean was always there for him but why was it, when Dean was hurting or was trying to hide something, whenever Sam offered his own comfort and support, his brother would shrug him off everytime? Why was it that he couldn't be there as well as he should be? Even if Dean pushed him away with each effort he gave why didn't he push just a little bit harder?
He knew Dean didn't do it because he hated Sam. No, Dean would do anything for him and has done more than he should on a number of occasions. Whether it was because Dean simply didn't want to be alone or that Sam just couldn't die, Dean saved him so many times and it was the same verse everytime.
"I couldn't let you die."
"I can't live with you dead."
"Don't get mad at me, Sammy..."
Sam had vowed to save Dean from the fate that awaited him because of the deal he made, because of him. He tried everything he could think of to free Dean from the contract that would send him to hell but no matter how much he tried, or begged, or cried, no demon would deal. Little by little Sam felt himself dying with the fact that no matter what he did Dean was on a one way ticket down to hell and that it wouldn't have happened if not for his stupid back at cold oak. If he hadn't been so trusting and turned his back on Jake he wouldn't have ended up with a knife to the back or a devastated Dean who couldn't come to terms that Sam was just gone. If it hadn't been for him...Dean would have never known the pain of being tortured for fourty years without end and forced to make a choice. Either he stayed on the rack to be cut, burned, flayed over and over again or he accepts becoming the one thing he hated most. A monster. As long as he agreed to torture souls then he would be free of the rack and free of the pain but that did a whole new number on Dean.
Dean fought tooth and nail for forty years but when the pain became to much he agreed to the terms.
Sam never thought different of him.
Dean held on for forty years and that was more than most people could ever hold out. No ones perfect and there is a time when a human soul will break under the pressure of unbelievable pain. Whether it be emotional or physical. Everyone breaks at some point. Dean is no different and Sam didn't hate him for making the choice he had. Yet somehow Dean managed to hate himself enough for the both of them.
Sam didn't know how to comfort him. Not really. He listened as Dean confessed, how he without hesitation took the offer to get off the rack and torture souls the same way he had been tortured, listened how with each cut or burn he made onto them that he broke a little more every time. He listened as Dean, his unbreakable, strong brother, cried tears of sorrow for what he had done in hell and all Sam could think was how it was his fault for the pain Dean was feeling now.
The door opening brought him out of his revine of deep thought and he watched as Dean climbed back in. He threw the keys at Sam who caught them easily.
"140." He stated and pulled the car around and into an unoccupied parking space before cutting the engine off and once again getting out of the car.
Sam grabbed the handle and opened the door. He threw his to long legs from the car and on the ground and winced as his wound protested at the movement. It sent a light pain up his side and he resisted the erge to moan.
He was grateful a moment later when Dean was at his side and helping him out of the car. Sam wasn't completely helpless but the wound was still fresh and it throbbed mercifully with each tug to the stitches when ever he moved the wrong way or twisted around without thinking.
Dean made sure Sam wasn't going to tip over and possibly fall on his face before he decided to go back to grabbing the bags from the trunk.
Sam waited until Dean had the bags in hand and shut the hood before walking to their room number. He unlocked the door and walked in, Dean right behind him and shutting the door. Both boys seemed to sigh as they entered the cool room and allowed their exhausted limbs to finally get their way. Dean fell back clumsily on the bed closest to the door where Sam took the bed nearest to the wall and slowly laid back as well.
They both just laid there for several minutes before Dean finally broke the silence and set up with a displeased moan. "Gotta shower. I call it first. You always use all the hot water."
"Knock yourself out man." Sam waved a hand through the air. He wasn't really feeling up to taking a shower at the moment.
Dean shrugged and stood up. He went to the bags that he had dropped immediately on the floor as soon as he was in the room and dug out a fresh change of clothes.
Sam heard the door shut with a soft click, later hearing the sound of running water and allowed his eyes to close. His body hurt. He was exhausted and his mind wouldn't leave him alone as it continued to think, think and think. Think about the werewolves, about Corbin and how he almost died, again, about what happened while he was unconscious and what Dean might have done. All these thoughts ran through his mind without mercy but even has worried about Dean as he was the exhaustion won over his thoughts.
He started to doze off and soon he was fast asleep with the sound of the water still running to drown out any other noise.