TOGETHER OR APART
Summary: Sam's broken hand in CSPWDT becomes serious when left untreated, forcing Dean to deal with his father's death. Season 2 Spoilers. Limp!Sam
Warnings:
1. Un-beta-ed
2. Some swearing (but not too bad)
Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural
When Sam awoke, he expected to be in yet another dodgy motel room with Dean lying on the bed beside him. 'But what is that beeping?' thought Sam. What he didn't expect to see when he managed to pry his eyes open were stark white walls and a series of beeping machines.
'What on earth?' thought a groggy Sam. The room was obviously some kind of medical institution. Sam could not figure out why he had no recollection of how he got there and where Dean was.
'De …" he tried to say, but his mouth didn't seem to be functioning properly at the moment. Sam attempted to sit up, only to cause a blinding pain to shoot up his arm. Grimacing in pain, he looked down at his arm, where a he found a heavy cast. Now breaking his hand, that was something he had a vague memory of.
'Ahh …' sighed Sam sinking back into the pillow. A nurse hearing that he was awake came over to check his vitals. She picked up a nearby cup of water with a straw and held it to his lips. Sam took a few slips before the cup was taken away and he closed his eyes.
'Sam. My name is Marcie. How are you feeling?'
Sam groggily pried his eyes open to look into the face of the woman talking to him.
'Hurts' he managed to say. 'Where's Dean?'
'Oh, you mean your brother? He's not allowed in here as this is the OR recovery area. He's outside in the waiting room and will see you when you get back to your room. I'll get the doctor to give you some morphine for the pain.'
Sam nodded tiredly.
'Sam. Stay with me a little bit longer. Can you tell me your date of birth?'
'2nd of May, 1983.'
'Can you tell me your full name?'
Sam had to think as to what their last alias had been. 'Umm. Samuel Francis … Collins.'
'That's fine Sam. Just relax and get some rest now.' And Sam needed no further instruction to fall back asleep.
An hour later a still dazed Sam was back in a room with Dean sitting in the chair beside his brother's bed. The elder Winchester clasped his little brother's un-cast hand in his not wanting to let it go after recent events. Dean really, really hated hospitals these days, more than he used to.
'Deanie. Deanie. He. He. Deanie.' Sam giggled.
'I'm right here Sammy.'
Dean saw the doctor coming and stood up to meet him. "How did the surgery go? Is he alright? He's seems a little out of it."
'The surgery went fine. He's a little goofy from the morphine. It was lucky you got him here when you did.' The doctor looked down at Sam's file in his hand. 'It says that he broke his hand four days ago?' Dean nodded in agreement.
'Stupid dead bitch' Dean said to himself.
'Well, there were actually two serious breaks and they needed to be set in the first place. However, by the time you got Sam here an infection had set in and as you probably would of noticed his arm had turned a lovely shade of green.' The doctor paused.
Dean took a defiant stance. 'I got him as fast as I could. With our work, we are often far away from medical facilities.'
Finding his brother unconscious and unresponsive on the bathroom floor of a motel had shaken him up enough without this doctor having a go at him.
'I meant no offence Mr. Collins. I was just outlining how serious your brother's condition became. We reset the bones and cleared up as much of the infection as possible.
'He will need to remain in the hospital on antibiotics for a few days, but I am sure that he will make a full recovery though. Some physio may be necessary.'
'Thanks, doc.' Said Dean as the doctor nodded to him and left the room.
'Dean' cried Sam. And with that Dean went back to his brother's side.
'Jesus, Sammy. Trust you to turn a simple broken hand into a whole hospital drama.'
'Jerk' said Sam keeping his eyes closed.
'Oh, so you are awake Sammy boy. That's why you are the bitch' replied Dean giving Sam's unbroken arm a gentle squeeze. He received a small smile from the hospital bed bound Winchester.
The conversation halted there. All that could be heard in the room was the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the small hiss of the oxygen tank.
'I miss Dad.'
'Me too' replied Dean.
'I wish we didn't fight all the time. I love him, even when we are fighting. He's our dad, which means we have to love him, but I do honestly love him and I think he loves me too even though we don't always show it. We should call him. Maybe he will answer this time' rambled Sam.
'What?' said Dean looking straight into his brother's face.
'Dad. You know our father?' Sam said opening his eyes and staring at Dean's face as though he were the one talking crazy.
'Yeah, I know our father.' Dean tried with all his might to hold back a sob. What the hell was this morphine doing to his baby brother?
'Next time we see Dad, I'm going to tell him that I love him. Do you think he will say that he loves me too?' asked an eager Sam.
Dean couldn't seem to formulate words and just nodded his head. 'How could Sammy forget the events of the last few months and that their father had died? It was all Dean could think about these days, and a few shots of morphine and Sammy forgot? This is madness' thought Dean.
'We really have the best Dad in the world. I know I always say that he wasn't a good parent, but after everything he went through, he was the best. I think he never really worried about us because he knew that you were strong and could handle anything and whatever I couldn't handle, you would be there to look after me.'
Dean was dumbstruck. Dean could not handle everything. His father's death was almost killing him.
Sam ignored the pained expression on Dean's face and cheerily kept on talking.
'The best thing we can do without Dad is to work hard at hunting and be the best hunters we can be. That's what Dad would of wanted I think. He wouldn't want us to get all angsty over not being together. What did he always used to say to us? What was it? I can't seem to remember, but Dad always said it was important. He used to say it to me before we would go on hunts when I was a kid and I would get scared that something bad would happen to us. Dean?' Sam enquired.
Dean absently wiped a tear away from his eye and cleared his throat. 'We're Winchesters, we're a team, together or not. Ain't no hell bitch on this earth gonna come between us.'
'That's it!' exclaimed a happy Sam. 'We are Winchesters, you know Dean?'
'Yep, I know Sammy. Just like the rifle.' Dean paused. It seemed that Sam had finally worn himself out with all this talking. 'Get some sleep Sammy.'
'You'll be here Dean? You won't leave me?'
'Nope, Sammy. We're a team and no hell bitch is going to come between us.' Sam giggled and sank comfortably into the bed, closing his eyes.
As Sam quickly fell asleep, Dean still tried to hold back the tears, but nothing seemed to stop them. He had no idea how long he sat there and cried. Once the tears ran out, Dean sighed. And it was at that point Dean knew that he and Sammy were going to be okay. Their Dad was dead, and their mother was dead, but together or apart, Winchesters are a team. And there is no team better than Team Winchester.
The next morning Sam woke up much more alert.
'Hey, Sammy' said Dean.
'It's Sam, jerk.'
'Bitch.' Dean paused. This Sam seemed to have some idea what was going on. 'Do you remember anything about last night?
'Dude. I don't remember anything about last night.'
Dean gave Sam a questioningly look. 'Are you sure? You don't remember what you were saying at all?'
Sam shook his head. 'Nope. That morphine knocks a punch. What's wrong? What did I say?'
'Oh, nothing. Just that you said that you would rather bang Rosie O'Donnell than Jessica Alba!' Dean couldn't help but grin at the look of horror on Sam's face.
The End.