Supernatural – Missing Scene for Fresh Blood
A/N: Okay, so this started out as a simple H/C but then I felt like Sam would be really angsty after what Gordon told him. So, I tried to make it a little bit more angst/comfort rather than hurt/comfort, but I'm not too sure how it came out since I'm still new and all.
Any pointers would be sooo helpful! Thanks!
Sam and Dean slowly limped out of the abandoned warehouse and towards the impala. Dean opened the trunk with one hand still on the bite Gordon had inflicted, and picked up a rag. He handed it to Sam, who looked at it with confusion on his face.
"Here," said Dean. "It's for your hands."
Sam looked down at his sliced up palms. "Oh, thanks." He began to wipe some of the blood off, hissing slightly at the pain. "How's your neck?"
Dean pressed a different towel to his neck, groaned, and then removed it. The wound was still bleeding very heavily. "I'll live," he mumbled. "Let's just get back to the motel." Then, he opened the driver's door to the impala and got in. "And remember…no blood on the seats!" he joked.
Sam wordlessly got into the passenger's seat. "Hey," Dean said. "You OK?"
"Yeah, just a little headache, I guess. I'll be fine." He tried to smile at Dean to reassure him that he wasn't so hurt, but it came across as a grimace, which made Dean even more worried. But he put the car in gear and began to drive.
The drive to the motel wasn't long; it wouldn't take them more than ten minutes to get there. Most of the ride was silent, but every so often, Dean would sneak a glance at Sam, who sat motionless in the passenger seat. He looked down at his little brother's hands, whose wounds were still seeping with blood. Dean knew Sam's hand definitely needed stitching but that would have to wait until later. In the mean time, he was a little worried about his mental state.
"Keep pressure on your cuts. You remember the last time you had a tetanus shot?" Dean snapped his fingers in front of Sam's face a few times to get his attention.
Sam finally noticed Dean's presence and began to reapply pressure on his mangled palm. "Um…I think a few months ago, when that poltergeist got me caught on that iron fence."
"Okay, good…You feeling okay? You're not dizzy or anything?"
"A little, but I'm fine. I just hit my head." Dean made a mental note to check for signs of a concussion later.
"Anything else?"
"Um…" Damn it, Dean thought. If it's taking him this long to answer, he probably does have a concussion. "No, I'm okay."
They finally reached the motel and Dean got out first, trying to suppress a groan. Every bone in his body hurt. He went around the car and helped Sam get out.
"I'm fine, Dean. You're the one who got bitten on the neck. It's a good thing he didn't get your jugular."
Dean took a step back. "Okay, fine." Sam went to get the back door open so he could get their duffle bags out, but his hands were slippery with blood. "Here," Dean said, "Let me–"
"No! I'll get it!" Sam snapped. "Just go inside." He finally got the door open and grabbed the bags as best he could without getting blood on them. He saw the hurt expression on his brother's face and handed him his bag. "Here, sorry…I'm just tired. Let's go inside."
Once inside, Dean immediately headed for the nearest chair and collapsed. Sam got a good look at just how deep Dean's bite really was. "Holy shit, Dean. Why didn't you say it was this bad?"
"I'm fine," Dean groaned. "Are you okay, though? Lemme see your eyes."
Sam begrudgingly came close to Dean, who lifted a flashlight to Sam's eyes. Equal and reactive pupils. Maybe he is just tired. "Okay fine. Go wash your hands so I can stitch them up and go to sleep."
Sam trudged into the bathroom and limped back out five minutes later. He was pretty sore from being thrown through the wall in the warehouse. He sat down on the bed. "OK, I'm ready," He muttered.
Dean sewed Sam's cuts fast and methodically, despite the throbbing in his neck. "Okay, all done." He wiped his hands and looked at Sam, who was looking down at his hands as if there was something utterly repulsive on them. "What, I didn't make the stitches neat enough or something?" Dean asked sarcastically. "Well, sorry. It's a little hard to when I'm still bleeding from my neck." And it was true, the wound on Dean's neck had somehow begun bleeding freely again. He quickly grabbed a towel and pressed it to his bite.
Sam's head snapped up. "No, sorry. It's fine. Thanks. It's just…" he looked back down at his hands. "What if Gordon was right? What if I am a…" He gulped heavily. "…a monster?"
"No, Sammy…he was just saying that to piss you–"
"Then how was I able to just kill him with practically my bare hands? He was right!" There was a mixture of fear, anger, and repulsion in his voice.
Dean sat down on the bad next to the young hunter. "No, Sam. It just means that you're strong. If anything it means that –" Dean immediately shut his mouth. "Never mind, don't worry. You're fine. I promise"
Sam looked at his brother inquisitively. "No, what were you going to say?"
Dean sighed. "It's just that…you know, with my deal being due soon…it's a little reassuring to me that you'll be able to take care of yourself, to fight by yourself…after I'm…you know…"
There was an awkward silence in the air for several moments. Dean took the towel away from his neck. The bleeding had stopped. Then he got up, slightly dizzy from blood loss, and said, "I think I'm gonna take a shower. I'll be out soon. You can go to bed if you want." He gathered his belongings and headed over to the bathroom. Before he closed the door, he heard Sam whisper, "Hey, Dean?"
Dean turned around. "Yeah, Sammy?"
"Thanks, for…you know…" But Sam didn't have to say more than those few words. Dean could see it in his little brother's eyes. Thanks for always being there for me. I love you.
"Yeah, Sammy, I know. Go to bed." And the door closed behind him.
