(Hello everyone! Not exactly sure why I made this story. I was bored and needed to get my writing juices flowing. Don't worry, Tears That Smolder is still on. It's just so much I need to write in it. You know how I try to be as detailed as I can. When I can't, I get really frustrated. I had surgery and couldn't write. I just started reading more again, not surprising my need for hurt Dean and Protective Sam spiked up. So here you go guys. I'm thinking about some other stories too in case Tears That Smolder takes any longer. Just one-shots or short fics. Maybe some angry and pissed off Sam? Or slightly Jerky Sam? I'm not sure. So here you go guys. Fair warning there are spiders in this-ugh I hate spiders. Sorry for any misspells and grammar mistakes.)
Italics - Thinking
"Words." - Talking
Sam ran his fingers through the damp spikes of Dean's hair. His flannel and jacket covering his big brother. Dean's head was laying against his right thigh. Heat was pouring from Dean's skin in waves. His lips parted to breathe shallowly. His eyes were dancing around under his eyelids.
Sam sometimes rubbed the side of his right shoulder through the material covering him. "Mmmmm." Dean mumbled.
"Shhh." Sam said lowly. The taller of the two wasn't sure what else he could do. They were stuck in a small cabin during a blizzard. Sam was actually beyond grateful they found it. It had been pure unWinchesterly luck again this time. He literally hit it, as in his face hit the side of the small log cabin. He had been half dragging and carrying his brother before he almost fell back.
When he had busted inside with the help of the strong gust of snow that felt like knives, he dropped Dean to the couch. Sam had to ram the door closed and still small puffs of snow and chilling air came through the side frames. He had pulled his thankfully over thick black gloves off and dug through the small cabin finding only garbage bags. And two welcome mats. The youngest brother then came across duck tape and a rusted knife which he didn't need. He quickly lumbered over in his thick snow pants.
It's not like he had anything better. He taped the bags to the open grooves as tightly as he could. Some air got through, but not the snow anymore. Sam fell to his knees loudly to bunch up the rugs at the bottom of the door. It was darker inside, the small dusty window let in some light. Because of the blizzard, the light from the bright white snow came through the glass tinging it blue inside. Somehow it felt even more cold.
He pushed himself up with numb hands panting. He looked over to a large pot looking thing, a wide pipe going up to the ceiling. He soon figured out it was a fireplace stove tucked in the corner. It was made of some type of dark almost black metal. Sam went over to it kneeling again seeing a stack of wood right by it. He could almost kiss it. Although a layer of dust made him rethink that action. Not to mention the idea of trying to light it up...
He wasn't sure if any dirt and snow clogged the pipe. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. He did have two boxes of matches in one of these pockets. He patted his four pants pockets finding the lumps. He stared at the pipe for a minute, his bangs coming in front of his eyes.
He'd have to take the chance.
Sam tapped his knuckles against the pipe and looked inside.
Twang-twang-twang-twang-twang...
It sounded empty, no dirt fell down the shaft. If it's snow up there it could melt. However if there is, they could also suffocate from smoke insulation.
"S-Sam... S-Sammy?" Dean grunted.
Sam instantly stood up coming over to the ugly drab plaid couch. Heavy dust particles was covering that surface too. Apparently this cabin didn't have many visitors. Makes sense with that creature they killed earlier, it was some type of winter supernatural arachnid. The closes stories similar to the creatures were in Native American lore. Or some type or cousin of the spiders.
For one they were in snowy areas unlike the dense woodland of many Native tribes located long ago. The Ojibway, Hopi and many other Native Americans have some lore on a 'Spider Grandmother'.
This arachnid of course had some very different characteristics.
He really hated spiders.
Those tomato sized ebony black eyes staring at them through the thick snow. It's body was covered in all white except for the tips which were more light gray. It had been about Great Dane Sized. There was actually two of them.
The reason it could even survive in this weather was from some type of antifreeze blood it had coursing through it. Made him think of those fish that live near the very top or bottom of the earth where it's regularly ice waters. The Antarctic fish. He'd seen it on a documentary once...or twice.
Not to mention when it touched skin, the dark blue blood acted like an acid, kinda like from that movie Aliens. Dean had been torn from his side in a second, a thick web flew through the air to his feet.
Now Sam had made a fire which was slowly eating the frigidness away. Dean's right leg had been bitten, the venom is more to incapacitate its victims than kill. The actual way the person animal or whatever the hell it decides is lunch dies is because the spider slowly sucks the life out of them. That's before using the shell of the half alive captive as a type of incubator for its young. Which explains the pair of them. Sadly this didn't mean the venom doesn't hurt. It's extremely painful going by the tremors and whimpers his brother was making.
The sound was scaring him. Dean didn't make these noises, or show how much pain he was in. Maybe a small grimace here and there and Sam had to really watch him to find those. Now his big brother was shaking on his lap, groaning. Not that he didn't understand, this is not just painful, it's agony.
Sam had cleaned the two large puncture wounds out. Dark angry purple branches stretched out from the ragged bites. The toxin was spreading through his veins. Dean had screamed till his was mostly hoarse. Sam wanted to stop the torture, but he had to get that yellowy goop out or risk the symptoms to last even longer. From Dads journal no one really was sure how long it lasted, usually whoever was bitten got eaten or...
The oldest was a pool of sweat and blood by the time he finished. The wound was wrapped in gauze up from his ankle to his knee. Now he seemed to be running a fever. Sam wiped the sweat from Dean's brow. His face was scrunched up in misery...and Sam didn't have anything to help except a flask of whiskey in one of his shoulder pockets.
"Shhh, you're gonna be okay, Dean, " Sam swallowed before leaning his head back on the couch, turns out, said couch turned into a pull out bed.
The left side of his body hurt and most likely will be a layer of bruises tomorrow. He had been thrown into a frozen pond. The ice didn't break at least, but now the side of his head was bleeding. He could feel warm blood trickling down behind his ear to his neck. Surprisingly the winter monsters weren't very complicated to kill. It only took a couple silver bullets, two cans of bug spray and a lighter.
They were fast though, it sent chills through him remembering the scream Dean made. It was almost worse that he couldn't see why he had howled so loudly. The snow was so thick, the reason that Sam could even hear him and his brother's voice wasn't carried with the wind made his brain work in overdrive. That's when Thing 1 jumped at him as he came back to the snowy land off the ice.
"God, come on. Here." Sam exclaimed.
He had to bunch the blankets and clothes over him again. He was shivering so much they came undone.
"S-S-Shit." Dean stuttered.
Sam's vision moved to the window, it was getting darker outside. A pale gray against the smudged glass. The light from the fire was enough to see though. The warm orange and yellow a harsh contrast to the blue at the corners of the cabin. Sam was trying to keep his thoughts straight to the matter at hand. They were stuck out in a blizzard, the impala was left on a patch of dirt next to the road probably covered in snow by now. It was about three miles in before they came across a clearing and a cave half way up a cliff.
So they are now looking at about four to five miles to walk back. Not like they could get up and leave anyway. The youngest wasn't sure Dean could take even a step more. Sam grunted looking down, his brother was clenching his leg hard. He wished they still had their bags with them. He had the weapons and Dean had a few things stuffed in a duffel in case anything wrong like this were to happen. It's like the fuckers knew he did and went straight for him.
Also bugs seemed to hate Dean, because Sam had to constantly keep them away when he found him. The crimson blood covering the snow around Dean had freaked him out. Once Sam knew he wasn't dead-Dean had been cursing Beetlejuice to hell. He had the bug spray and lighter. Doesn't take a genius to figure out what he did next.
"Here." Sam said.
He put the flask of whiskey to his lips. He really shouldn't give him this, but anything to help with the pain. His fever wasn't too high, but enough for shivers and constant sweating. Sam had taken a bowl of snow and heated it up for water. So his brother wasn't in danger of dehydrating now. Sam lifted him a fraction, he smiled a little. It's as if Dean knew what it was and drink quickly.
"Slow down. Save me some." The brunette laughed.
The smile left not very long after.
"Sssssammmy." Dean moaned.
Sam reassured him he was there as best he could. He held his hand in his tightly. He wasn't sure if it was getting through. Finally after a while, the whiskey seemed to kick in. Dean grew more tired. The shaking was still strong but his panting breaths were less short.
"Try to sleep. It's alright. I'll keep watch dude." Sam promised.
Dean's eyebrows furrowed, he was still mumbling nonsense. Sam winced digging into his left pocket finding the cell phone. His thumb flicked the device open. He couldn't call anyone, there was no signal. It was nice to know that it still worked though. He decided to cut it off to save battery life.
The youngest brother made sure to keep his nerves on alert. He couldn't lose control now. He couldn't be afraid if the blizzard lasted longer. If the information in the journal had been false about the venom. That his brother was actually dying in his arms and he doesn't even know it. He put his hand on Dean's chest to feel the fast beating of his heart.
Please don't stop.
Sam's eyes grew heavy, the adrenaline rush had died down now. Letting the ache and headache to come with greater force. He was so tired.
The white furry face and the deep black eight orbs of those spiders flashed in front of his eyes.
Sam had to hold those large pedipalps from going around his head and crushing his skull. You see when Thing 1 attacked him, it pushed him back so hard they both were propelled across the ice. The many legs of Thing 1 had tried to pierce his winter coat while what looked like a mouth opened at his face. A large dark blue straw thing that had a sharp tip shot out. Left right, left right, gun to its head.
That's when he found out about the blood. It miraculously didn't get on him, the monster reared back in time about to stab two pointy looking legs at his chest. Three bullets shot out in quick succession. The loud claps of the small projectiles instantly drifted away in the wind of the storm. Thing 1 was forced back, its large head and abdomen pierced leaving big jagged holes. Its greenish blue blood seeped out melting the ice, sizzling like holy water on a demon's skin. Sam had ripped out the can of bug spray from his belt wrapped around his waist, the spider twitched across the frozen water.
Sam raised the can trying not to slip on the slippery ice and flicked the red lighter with his thumb. It took a few times for the fire to get going. Thing 1 raised its head? Toward him, part of its cephalothorax was blown off. Then boom, a spray of red and orange flames covered the beast. The part of its head that was still attached shrieked loudly.
The fur turned black...
"Ahhhh!" Came Dean's yell.
"DEAN?!" Sam called twisting around and almost falling.
A jolt went through his body. The youngest brought his hand to his mouth to not be sick. The smell of burnt arachnid was still in his nose.
"Okay...okay." Sam said aloud.
When the storm passes, he'll call Singer in case he can't get the impala rolling again. It'll definitely have a few feet of snow packed on top of it. Sam would have to scoop it off.
His hand went back to running through his brother's hair. He didn't know why exactly he was doing it. It was calming for some reason. Dean didn't seem to mind...probably didn't even notice. Sam wanted to try and relax a little, rarely did he get this close to his big brother. Hugs were usually shrugged off. Which, you know? ...Winchester's are manly men and they don't do all that 'feelings' stuff.
Not that Sam's saying he's a bitch. He's not. Just because he'd rather talk than angrily stew about conflicts doesn't make him a 'girl'. Maybe his brother just got it from Dad, definitely. Dean probably didn't know how to open up about things. It's hard holding it in.
Dean's stronger than me.
Sam couldn't imagine trying to keep in what Dean has. He'd probably self destruct. Now the youngest brother was angry, that freakin bug had reduced Dean to this. He almost wanted to look away. Sam knew Dean wouldn't want him to see him like this. Most likely he'll blame himself for this happening. He'll think he deserved this because he wasn't ready for the attack.
"S'not your fault." Sam assured.
Neither of them were ready. They hadn't planned on the wall of white coming down on them. He massaged the knot between the bottom of Dean's neck and back. Many of his muscles were probably cramped with hot spikes of pain.
Sam wished he could of ripped one by one of Thing 2's legs off. It's like Thing 2 had it out for Dean. Well his brother actually called it Beetlejuice and a sonuvabitch which Sam totally agreed with. The only reason he even saw Dean was the dark shadow of his body and the trail of blood going toward the cliff.
Beetlejuice had decided to use his big brother for that freaky baby home thing. Except...Beetlejuice seemed to have forgotten he was there.
"Need...motor...'pala." Dean whispered.
His teeth were clenched closed, his jaw twitched. He was barely asleep, the oldest was stuck in between absolute pain and unconsciousness. Sam took a swing of the whiskey himself before making a face. His gaze drifted over to the fire. His eyes were already heavy. The waving flame in the fireplace was something to watch...too many bad images with fire...
Jessi-...No-No-God no...
He didn't need that right now. His eyes prickled nevertheless. Flame still dancing on his iris. How can fire be like this...keep you warm, keep you alive and still be so destructive and terrifying?
A quote...
"The fire you kindle for your enemy often burns yourself more than them."
He breathed in through his nose scrubbing a hand down his face. Sam couldn't help his 'fire'. His was more like a uncontrolled forest fire raging through the woods. He didn't care how much it burns. His fire will grow until he finds the one who did that to...
Stop stop stop...stop thinking...
Tears were already making a trail down his cheeks. His nose turned red. Sam held in a sob before looking away from the fireplace and to the cold isolation outside of the cabin. He wiped angrily at his face. His throat was tight, it wasn't all too surprising when he couldn't stop his eyes from closing.
The black garbage bags flapped loudly from the constant gust of wind...
Three Hours Later:
Dean's eyes open to slits. It took too much of an effort to do this. Plus the tears weren't helping. His throat hurt, really all of his body was on fire. He could barely feel the sweat over his skin in a blanket. Speaking of blankets...
Hard to breathe...
Sam...
Sammy...
His mouth wouldn't move. Not even his pinky. The only thing he could succeed in do was breathe, which was hard in of itself. His lungs felt heavy under his ribs, like invisible water clogged them up. His throat was dry...his lips chapped. He hated chapped lips, he wished he could grab his emergency balm he kept in his left pocket. Dean's eyes fell closed without his say so.
"Mmmm." He hummed weakly.
That's not right. Also it should have came out louder is what Dean was thinking. It was like he was stuck in one of those dreams where you are half awake and aware, but your body couldn't move. He wasn't one for sleep paralysis. Actually Dean didn't sleep that long as a matter fact. Four hours at the most before his body forced himself awake. So this...this feeling was done by something else. That's when the oldest felt it...the origin of the heat.
His leg...he barely could feel it, the blinding pain coursing through him like a brick wall. It stunned him like a physical punch to the head. It hurt...like really hurt.
"Mmm." He tried again.
It was even lower. He couldn't deal with this pain, it was too much. Bullet wound and a few stabs yes...fire blood. No. Dean needed to move, he needed help, he needed to blackout. Nothing would be better to let of this searing burn. Almost like when those psycho Benders stuck a red hot poker in his shoulder...but instead of taking it out. Leaving it there. Dean hated when he couldn't move. Couldn't get away or at least fight what was hurting him.
One of the worst things on his list.
1. Sammy gets hurt, or even...
2. Impala is scratched or gets wrecked.
3. Peanut M&M's are cancelled.
4. Demon possess him.
5. Can't move.
6. Stuck in a coffin. Or end up on the ceiling...
There's a few more although right now he's looking at number five. He grunted on his own saliva. Finally by some miracle, Sam shifted, then two huge hands took his shoulders and raised him up in a sitting position. He couldn't hear most of what Sam was saying. His body jumped and shook like a cold Chihuahua. It wouldn't stop, the pain just wouldn't stop. Warm stuff trickled from his forehead into his eyes and down his nose. Sweat. Then Dean's back was against something. Hands coming around his abdomen. It was a gentle hold, also the most embarrassing.
Get off...
He wanted to yell at him. Dean needed something cold...something to stop this heat. The fire swam into his vision, his body involuntarily pushed back away from it.
No!
For a moment he forgot it was Sam, his little brother holding him still. He wanted to fight, to get away. The damn hands around his ribs wouldn't let go. The oldest realized he couldn't move anyway.
"You 'kay?..." Was a muffled pulsing sound to his ears.
Spit dribbled out of his mouth, but thankfully out of his throat. He could breathe easier now. He's never felt so humiliated ...maybe once...although he's not going to get into that. Dean wanted to break free, but he couldn't even move his tongue right now.
Hurts...God this...
The light assaulted his eyes, it was too bright. Hot, it was just so freakin hot in here. His little brother musta' didn't get the memo that,
'Hey!' feel like I have lava for blood here.
He needed to take off some of these blankets.
God, just get this off...
"Easy, eas-... " The voice slurred then dulled to nothing.
Yes...
Dean felt his consciousness slipping. His thoughts then filtered through his mind. The pain wasn't going away...if anything he felt it more. His body jerked as everything turned black.
Shit...Sammy I need...
...
Sam's voice was low as if talking to a skittish colt. Dean was jittering like one. His limbs were uncooperative. The youngest woke up to choked sounds. He immediately raised him up. His body was...cold.
Cold?
What the-?
Sam felt his heart racing. This was not in the journal. He raised his fingers to Dean's wet cold neck, his pulse was weaker.
No-no-, "-No, Dean...Dean?!" Sam barked.
His voice quivered, Sam got up removing the blanket and clothes near his big brother's leg, peeling the layers of cold gauze away. The purple marks were now deep violet with an outline of scarlet. He stooped down, hands shaking seeing thick blood oozing out.
"Wha-What do I do?!" He yelled to no one.
He was scared, Dean was freezing...
Sam's heart fluttered looking up to see Dean's lips had changed to a light blue.
Wait...
No.
"That...that can't be possible." Sam said horrified.
Nothing in the journal gave even the smallest hint to what he was thinking. Sam looked back to the legs wound, he had taken the soaked through gauze off. The wet material dropped to the floor in his haste to stand up. He sat next to Dean's right side, his back leaning against the back of the couch. His older brother's head was laying limply to his chest. Sam brought his fingers to his eyes just noticing his long lashes. He opened the eyelids and jumped back.
"Fuck no! No!" Sam cursed.
He quickly examined his eyes once more.
White...they were white.
Small layers of frost covering his pupils.
This couldn't be right.
"Dean..." He questioned.
Sam touched his freezing cheek, his brother was unresponsive except for the silent shivers coursing through his body still. Sam had to think of something quick.
Either his brother was being frozen to death...or transforming into a new Beetlejuice.
Okay, okay...
Holy water...have to try holy water...
Silver...
Uh...fire...maybe heat.
"Alright Dean..." Sam found the flask in one of his chest pockets.
He had poured some into the wound already, but...
He held Dean's legs still and watched the liquid fall. The reaction was instant. Dean moaned kicking out toward him. Nothing. No sizzling like he'd expected. The water just mixed with the blood.
What?
Soooo, not changing into the beast...
Was it a new symptom?
His eyebrows raised in thought, screwing the cap back on the flask.
A new symptom, that made sense, when someone was bitten they usually weren't heard from again. So the information in the journal could only list so much. His brother pulled his leg away. The oldest didn't look awake, so it was probably his body's reaction.
Dean will be the first one to survive long enough to go through all the side effects.
Sam took out some more dry wipes from the clear ziplock bag. He was glad he thought to bring it, at least an emergency-emergency one. He washed his hands with the warm water the fire heated up and cleaned them before going back to the bed. Sam's hand went around his ankle straightening his leg again.
"Shhh, you're gonna be okay." Sam promised once again.
Sam raised the white material and cleaned the blood away. After he was finished he wiped his hands clean and re wrapped the wound. Sam tried to be as gentle as he could, but it's hard when someone is fighting against you. A fleeting thought of how he wished he had some rope or something to keep his arms and hurt leg down made him shiver.
Sam hoped he'd never have that thought about his brother again.
Just weird...
He put his hands on his hips when he stood up thinking.
Dean called it the classic Green Giant stance.
"Greeeeen Giant whoomp-" Dean's sing song voice made him roll his eyes.
The snow still pelted against the window. His vision traveled over his brother's form trying to assess the situation in a brighter light. As in instead of a small lighter he has a lantern to look through a huge museum. He hated he didn't have much control over this. All Sam could do was sit and wait this out.
Hopefully, his brother...
No he will...
Dean's teeth began to chatter, Sam fixed the blanket on him. The heat from the fire was getting stronger. He stooped down putting two more chopped logs inside. The youngest began to raise up when a spike of pain in his side. His ribs hurt more than he thought. A small gasp escaped him. Sam slowly got back onto the couch pulling Dean to him. He was still so cold. He didn't realize what he was doing until His brother's head was under his chin.
He froze almost expecting a hard hand against his throat.
That didn't happen, only the stuttering breaths leaving Dean's lips. Instead of warm air, it was slightly cool against his collarbone. Sam's shoulders shook barely controlling his emotions. He didn't want this, he didn't want to be here. The youngest didn't want Dean always fighting for his life. This position, this one right here was so similar to how Dad held him.
John had him close to his chest, his shaking hands rubbing his oldest's back. At those times, Dean had looked younger, he didn't look right with thick bandages covering most of his skin. How limp his body was. Sam would watch from the door, too scared to believe it was real. Dad never looked so frightened or more father like then those times. His eyes would be red rimmed, skin pale, but not as pale as Dean's.
John would whisper 'Kiddo, Tiger, Deano, and Son.' His youngest would cry, not from sadness, mostly from anger. His blue-green eyes staring hard. Dad would lay his chin on top of Dean's head humming. He remembers the sound.
Hey Jude.
He'd rock a little, but not enough to hurt him. Sam never believed sometimes that his father could be such a-...You know what, so rough, barking commands that Dean rarely ever questioned. Then when his oldest son was injured so bad...he...John could change to lightly running his calloused fingers through his hair. Humming lowly to his unconscious boy. Genuine fear in his hazel eyes. At some point when it was too much for him, Sam would take over, never voicing what he'd seen. Take Dean in his own arms and watch his father massage the back of his neck. His broad shoulders tight, back facing him as he paced. He never drink when Dean was injured like this.
He'd stare out the window shades, try to do anything to keep his mind off the fact that...Dean is still just a boy...Dean is not invincible...no matter how many times he says he's fine and that he's Batman. John would ignore the fiery glares aimed at him. How Sam almost fought him when he figured it was his turn to hold his hurt son. It was his fault...
It...
So when Sam saw the blank look Dad had his fingers flexing toward Dean...He'd move. Sam hoped that maybe seeing his brother like this would make him see. Make John see how much he's hurting. Dad would resume humming, breathing in Dean's scent as if he'd never feel or smell or see his oldest boy again.
"Hmmm...and anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain, don't carry the world upon your shoulders..." His voice whispered.
So now Sam rocked lightly, unnoticeably humming that song again, sometimes switching to, You Are My Sunshine and back to, Hey Jude. He tried to not feel how cold his flesh was. How wet and icy his sweat was. Dean would whimper lowly, not able to control the sounds. One more thing a Winchester couldn't control in his life. There was one thing Sam could though, that was be there. He failed at that before, but now he's...he's back.
"Hmmmm, hmmm hmm hmmm, hmmmm..." Sam hummed.
Tears were back in his eyes, he didn't want some stupid spider to have taken his brother out. He didn't want his big brother to go, he didn't care if he sounded five or not. It was true. He couldn't do this alone. He couldn't face that demon bastard alone. Sam couldn't be alone...he always had someone, someone with him. If it wasn't Dean it was either Dad even though they didn't get along, but he was there. Then there had been Jess...his friends...then when they were taken from him.
Dean...he was always there. Someone to depend on.
"Best big brother." He muttered.
His vision blurred.
"He's gonna be alright son." John said in a strong voice.
Sam almost thought he was there before remembering where they were. He laid his head more on top of his brother's head nodding. The youngest hoped his body heat would go through to him.
Sam stayed like this for a few hours before he fell back to sleep. His arms wrapped protectively around Dean. Just like when the oldest would hold him when he was little. He might be a little more possessive though, you can't blame him. Dean's all he has, Dean has him and Dad. Dean was more close than him to the man. So he can't give him up.
Can't lose him.
Three Hours Later:
Sam's eyes shot open. The door to the cabin creaked loudly. The blizzard was ultimately at its peak. It was dark outside, snow was almost covering the whole glass. Dean was...
Sam hadn't meant to fall asleep, and now he cursed himself.
"Dean...Dean!" His voice yelled.
He was barely breathing...was he breathing at all?!
"Fuck!"
He put his fingers to his neck.
"Oh God..."
Sam jumped up, he couldn't have been asleep that long. He even remembers his eyes closing. It couldn't have been that long he screamed to himself. He ripped the blankets and clothes away. He ignored how rigid and cold they were. His hands went to his chest.
"Please God, oh please..." He begged.
If Dean dies because he freakin fell asleep he'd die himself. He did a number or compressions before opening his mouth and pushing air into his lungs. He repeated, his hands were shaking so badly.
"No! No! God, please God don't let him go please!" He sobbed.
Sam barely could see, he was sobbing by now. He wasn't sure if that was a crack,or not, but all he cared about was that heart. He didn't care if it was weak or not, he just needed a heartbeat. His lungs needed to work.
"Staying alive, staying alive, a, a, a, a staying alive, staying..." Sam choked on the words.
He pushed down on every 'a, a...' remembering in health class and John's instructions.
"Breathe damn you! Breathe!" Sam growled.
"Pffft..."
...
He stopped. The youngest raised up putting his ear to Dean's lips. He waited for a second before feeling a cold brush of air. His fingers went to Dean's neck.
Beat...
...
Beat...
...
Beat...
...
Beat...
Sam fell to his side on the bed with relief flooding him. His eyes were closed. Dean was breathing...his heart was beating...
Dean was alive...
Eight Hours Later:
2:16 a.m
Sam had slight bags under his eyes, he stayed awake. The whiskey helped to stay warm. He had given up most of his clothes to his brother. He had gotten worse over time. To the point at around...
Sam glanced to his watch...
8:00 p.m
Last night Dean was more ice than anything. Sam had held him, his anxiety was so high he had chewed his nails down to bleeding again.
Slowly though...
Snails pace slowly...
He grew warmer...
The wound had froze at the tender edges, but was thawing. The color of his lips were still blue. His eyes still white. However the sweating died to a minimum, he wasn't sure if that was bad or good yet. Though he'd rather not see ice crystals covering his skin again. He had been so cold Dean had almost given his hands and chin frostbite. He was very worried about his insides. His vital organs, his brain.
He prayed it didn't effect him...
Dean shuddered, eyes creaking open. Sam almost didn't notice, his thoughts were distracting him. The oldest slowly gazed up, confused as to where he was.
"Dean?" Sam asked.
The eyes...his green and brown eyes. His brother's eyes were looking at him. Not the white frost covered ones. Sam frowned seeing how lost he looked.
"It's alright buddy." Sam assured.
Dean was very weak right now,but he was moving. Moving away from him. Sam knew it would hurt him. So he tried to keep him still. Dean of course didn't agree with this. His teeth were bared in anger.
No.
"No." Sam said.
He usually didn't sound like this, but the stress, how scared he was. He wasn't ready to let go either. He couldn't, not yet at least. Also Dean was still badly hurt and just coming to. So the youngest unconsciously setting his jaw like Dad does, stared at his brother.
"Stay still. You're hurt, bad, Dean. So, stay still," He warned. "Alright?"
Dean grunted before closing his eyes. Sam did too, watching as the blueish tone of his freckled nose and cheeks turned to a more alive shade of pink. He was getting better. The venom was losing. A small thought carried through his head about how now Dean could be immune to the venom because his body is fighting against it. Like how the body can be introduced to an organsm. Then the immune system quickly re-establishes a protection against it.
Similar to when you get a vaccine. The tallest of the two used to think about the scientific side of the supernatural. Could there be a way to fight these things, there has to be something linking silver or bronze or the types of herbs. The bodies of these creatures react to these things.
What am I thinking?
Sam sighed out, able to rub the side of Dean's arm to warm him. He smiled at how ridiculous he looked covered in all these things. At some point he'd have to take them off. Basically a blanket burrito with stuffing inside. Finally a laugh broke free.
The feelings he had before...still lingering.
He wouldn't forget this.
How Beetlejuice could have killed his brother.
Five Days later:
9:05 a.m
Michigan
Sam came out of the small store with a white plastic bag. Dean was leaning against the impala staring at the road. Hearing the small bell the door rang he turned around taking the gas pump out. Sam gave a small smile before bending down into the black vehicle. As always watching his head to not hit it again. Dean soon slid across the leather too.
Heat was now pouring out again. The blizzard had left the roads covered and taken a few days to clear. Now they finally could leave this place. Dean had been restless, not quite looking him in the eyes. Sam couldn't help worrying about him. It's not like he'd push him to talk about this-this time. Just like his big brother he'd rather forget about it. Which will be impossible.
Dean started to pull out left onto the road leading to a highway. Sam dug through the bag tossing chips and snacks aside till he found them. Two pairs of sunglasses. He smiled trying not to laugh. Dean glanced over at the chuckling before cutting the radio back on.
"Why you get those?" He questioned looking back to the road.
Sam's gaze went outside to the snow covered ground and bare trees whizzing by.
"I thought maybe we should try some place warm." Sam said.
He handed Dean a pair which he clipped to his jacket.
"Like uh, Cali? I was thinking Florida, but the drive would...well." Dean tilted his head to the side toward him.
Sam nodded taking a soda out the bag.
"Yeah, anywhere, but here."
Dean's eyes traveled over to him, Sam was paler. Bags looked worse now, his hair which usually brushed and combed was a little disheveled. Dean also noticed his nails. He felt bad about this.
"Yeah, well, you can say that again." He murmured.
His hands tightened over the snake leather of the wheel. His muscles still ached and his leg still hurt. The only reason he was driving was because Sam looked like he might fall asleep after every ten minutes. Shivers still plagued him once in awhile and he hoped it would go away. Sam kept making him wear his too big jacket, it was under his leather one. Okay, so Dean chose to wear it this way, just to annoy the youngest.
It looked utterly ridiculous, one of the reasons he stayed near the car instead of going inside. Although it did keep him warm. He glanced down to the shades.
"We are never watching Beetlejuice again." Sam said.
Dean snorted at that.
"And no more damn spiders, I'll tell ya that." Dean grinned unfurling the shades.
"Agreed." Sam said.
Dean put the shades on and looked to Sammy smiling. The youngest shook his head.
"How I look? Do I look like that guy, uhh," Dean snapped his fingers in thought.
"Horatio Caine?" Sam answered.
He too put on the sunglasses.
"Yeah. Haha! Hey gimme that tape um, 1993."
"Van Halen?"
"Put it in." Dean said.
Sam did and soon a screaming voice came out.
"Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
...
"Are you serious?" Sam questioned.
Dean's smile just grew and he tapped his finger to the beat. Sam watched him making sure he looked right before scooting down in his seat to rest his eyes.
Dean's okay...
Dean's okay...
Dean's an idiot...
He smiled too rolling his closed eyes before sipping his soda and taking a nap. Dean turned the music down a tiny bit for him and made sure to let his little brother rest.
Sammy's okay...
We're okay...
Dean sped up some, the impala roared down the highway.
...
"...They decide and the shotgun sings the song
I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
The change, it had to come
We knew it all along
We were liberated from the fold, that's all
And the world looks just the same
And history ain't changed
'Cause the banners, they are flown in the next war
I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again .
No, no! I'll move myself and my family aside
If we happen to be left half alive
I'll get all my papers and smile at the sky
Though I know that the hypnotized never lie
Do ya?
There's nothing in the streets
Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left
Are now parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight
I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees
And pray We don't get fooled again Don't get fooled again No, no!
Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Meet the new boss Same as the old boss..."
...
Van Halen 1993
Won't Get Fooled Again(Live)
(How did it go? Did you like it? Haven't written for a long time, so, sorry if it's rough. I really would like some reviews. Would you like some more Protective Sam stories? I was even thinking of a short Deaged Dean one-shot. We'll see. This took me about three days. Did it in my spare time. Tears That Smolder is such an intense story and I want it right. So look forward to a few one-shots. People who like Protective Sam, I'm gonna be your new friend haha! Please FAVORITE AND REVIEW! Love you, remember to Always Keep Fighting. Also, if there are any good Betas, please contact me on here. Or if anyone knows one, I could really use one Q3Q)