Hello everyone! This would be my first Supernatural fanfic... hope it's ok... eep
This is basically set in 'Faith', before Dean and Sam go to find the healer, which Dean still thinks is a doctor of some sort, but after Dean gets himself out of the hospital.
It's just a little missing scene, with a bit of banter and a bit of awwness.. hopefully.
ENJOY!!
Dean sat heavily on the bed, wincing at the pain that flared in slow crescendo round his heart.
"So... when we leaving this dump, Sammy?" He asked, his voice cracking and sounding weak. He hated it.
"Urrr..." Sam said and stopped his rushing around the room. "Not 'til tomorrow... waiting for a call." He continued to pace around the room.
Dean rolled his eyes at his shifty brother and carefully pushed himself back onto the headboard. He got about half way until he felt Sam's giant hands on his forearms – helping him along.
"Stop feeling me up, dude." Dean shrugged Sam off him and settled back into the pillows. "Now, care to let me in on this little secret you've got going on? Or should I just leave you to your little tea party with whoever the hell you're waiting for." Dean glared at Sam through half open eyelids. Sam smirked at him. "Sammy..." Dean warned.
"It's Sam."
"Nope, you're still the kid in this family. 'Sammy' stays." Dean smirked.
"I'm the kid?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows at Dean and giving him his trade patronising look.
"Shut it... Sammy." Dean smirked again. "And don't change the subject."
Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair that was covering his eyes.
"You won't like it."
"Well that's reassuring. Come on... give a dying man a break. The suspense is killing me... literally."
Sam looked up sharply with a pained expression in his eyes.
"Not. Funny."
"Not even a little?" Dean said, giving him a puppy dog look.
"No." Sam stayed sombre and Dean immediately felt guilty.
"Sorry." He said, looking down at the musty, faded bed cover.
"I'm waiting for Joshua to call. He said he found a specialist, they're gonna take a look at you. Get you better." Sam spoke quickly and his gaze left Dean, focusing on the carpet instead.
There was a silence.
"Son of a bitch Sam!" Dean yelled, his voice cracking from the strain. "What the hell? Why?"
"Why'd you think, dumbass! And...Well... I told Joshua what was going on... about your heart. And, naturally, he was worried about you. He wanted to help so he so he found this guy."
"But I'm dying Sam!" Dean jumped up from the bed, ignoring the weakness he felt all around his body. "As in incurable, beyond help... dead already!"
"Hey! You are curable! Stop it, Dean. It isn't helping anyone."
"What isn't?"
"You giving up like this!" Sam yelled.
"It's better than false hope, Sam!" Dean yelled louder. He sighed as his chest twinged from the strain. He started again in a quieter voice. "Please, just let it go, Sam. I'm dying. End of it. I don't want no false hope... it's more painful for everyone in the end."
There was a silence as Sam shifted restlessly, warring with his emotions. Eventually he spoke up in a gentle voice, completely ignoring what Dean had just said.
"Dean, don't get worked up. It's not good for you."
"To hell with it not being good for me! I'm dying some time. Might as well be before we get going... wherever we're going, maybe I'll save some dignity." He scrubbed a rough hand over his face angrily and leant on the bedside table, trying to seem casual. In actual fact he was finding it difficult to stand.
Silence filled the room. Dean eventually looked up and locked eyes with his brother.
"You. Are. Not. Dying. Got it?" Sam said dangerously.
"No. I don't 'got it', Sammy."
Sam growled in frustration and threw himself off the bed, continuing his pacing. Dean took the opportunity to slump back into a nearby chair, his legs feeling like jelly. He bit back a groan as his back collided with the seat a bit too roughly. His heart jolted uncomfortably.
Sam softened as he saw his brother struggling and went to sit in the other chair.
"You should be in bed, Dean."
"Shut it, Sammy." They both smirked. Dean sighed, deciding he forgave his brother. "So wanted one last try before I go kick the bucket?" He said gently, trying not to break the truce he had with his little brother. However, his voice came out too harsh.
"NO!" Sam yelled. Ok then, truce officially over. "You're not gonna die, period. Got it?" Dean merely raised an eyebrow. "I have other ideas. But I think this is the real deal."
"Whatever. Keep trying Sammy if it makes you feel better." Dean chuckled.
"Yeah." Sam said quietly, his voice choked. There was another awkward silence between the two brothers.
Dean sighed irritably and shifted around in his seat, something he did whenever he was going to do something which he really really really didn't want to do.
"Aw hell." He sighed again. "I can't say no to this can I?"
"Nope." Dean made a whiny noise in the back of his throat and jiggled his foot around.
And that's when Sam got The Puppies out.
"Aw hell." Dean repeated. "Damn it Sam, stop it!" Sam didn't stop. "I'll skip town." Sam stopped the puppy face for a moment to give his brother a sceptical look before patting his jeans pocket, where the jangle if keys could be heard. Skipping town wasn't gonna happen then. "I could always take the bus Sam." Yeah, like I'd ever choose that over the Impala. But Sam got The Puppies out again. Dean grimaced before sighing, frustrated. "Eurgh! I'll go ok? It's not like I'm in any condition to skip the state anyways. Besides, I don't wanna hurt my baby's feelings by leaving without her."
Sam smiled and patted his brother's arm in thanks.
"But don't you go expecting me to play niceties with... whoever this doctor is. I'm pissed. You got that?" Dean said, raising his eyebrows and pointing his finger at Sam.
"Yeah, yeah." Sam said. "I got it, Jerk." Dean glared at his patronising tone but chose to ignore it, he was too exhausted.
"Bitch."
The brothers smirked at each other.
Dean struggled up and leant heavily on the back of the chair before practically launching himself onto the side of the motel bed. Sam grabbed him by the arms again and helped him to lie down.
"You know there was a much better way of doing that, don't you?"
"And what was that, college boy?
"Letting me help you in the first place."
Silence.
"Whatever."
"It's what brothers are for." He pushed.
"Sam." Dean used his warning voice again.
Sam put his hands up in defeat and sat back down in the rickety chair.
Dean shifted on the bed to get comfortable and grimaced when he failed miserably. Sam watched his struggle sympathetically.
"You gonna take the hoodie off? You'll boil."
"What cha talkin' about?" Dean mumbled, already half asleep. "It's freezing."
"No it's..." Sam stopped himself.
It was a warm evening outside. It warranted perhaps jeans and a tee. And the hotel, air condition less and boxed in, was sweltering. Sam could feel the light sheen of sweat encasing his skin. It wasn't even dark yet and Dean was exhausted!
It worried Sam.
Dean was lying there so weak, pale and sick. No wonder he was so cold.
He was dying.
Sam closed his eyes tightly to dispel the thought and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a breath and forced himself to think of something else, anything else.
He looked over at his brother.
Sam, not having the heart to get Dean off the bed to throw his own covers over him, took the covers from his own bed and gently placed them over Dean's slightly shaking body.
"Thanks, man." Dean mumbled, his voice coming out in barely a whisper.
Sam nodded. And, when he saw his brother had immediately fallen asleep, touched his cheek briefly.
He was dismayed by the slight warmth on Dean's cheek. It was a fever.
Sam let one silent and solitary tear slip.
He would not let Dean die.
Well, that's it! Hope it was ok, 'cause, well.... I get anxious. So in your quest to make an unknown person happy and ... unanxious, pretty pretty please review this! May just love you forever. And of course, any tips/constructive criticism is welcomed.
Thanks
:) xx
