A/N: Yes another SPN story from me! Can't help it if I get too many ideas! Well this one came from watching season 7 and thinking that I was angry with the show for having such an awesome ending in 7x02 and then skipping to three weeks later in 7x03. So I decided to fill in the blanks a little… give you a little shot of head injured Sam. This could turn into a full-length story if you guys want it to.
Summary: Tag to 7x03. First it was that damn Leviathan that took his head for a piñata and now it's Amy who's bashed his skull against the tree. Sam's not sure how much more his head can take until Dean punches him for stealing the Impala. And that was the straw that broke the camel's back... or in this case, his head.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything supernatural related but I'm having fun with the characters!
SPN
As soon as he spotted the missing Impala, Dean was pissed. Sam had gone out, God knows where, and he hadn't bothered to tell his brother where he was going. It's not that Dean really wanted to know. His brother was an overgrown man after all. If it had been any other time, he would have just shrugged it off, especially in his position.
With his casted leg, there was no way he was going to go anywhere. Blame the SOB of a Leviathan for that. The monster had broken more than his leg. If only it had been just his leg too. Dean was used to physical wounds, really. What he would not forgive was how Edgar had broken his brother's head. Not only did he do it physically, but Dean was starting to suspect that the blow hadn't only caused his brother a lame-ass concussion.
His little brother was weakened because of Castiel breaking down the Great Wall of Sam. The past three weeks had been hell for his little brother – literally. Dean could see the pain written all across Sam's face, even when his brother was sleeping – which he did a lot after getting his gourd cracked up. Sam blamed it on headaches but Dean knew him too well to humor him on such excuses.
He could see the vacant look Sam's eyes would get when he thought no one was watching. He could see the way his brother pressed at his palm vigorously and how the mental torture in his eyes would decrease from the assault of physical pain. Dean thought back to the warehouse and to the conversation he had with his delusional brother. Sam almost couldn't tell the difference between reality and the hell Lucifer put him through.
But as Sam put it, quoting the devil himself, "you can't torture someone who's got nothing left for you to take away". Knowing that, Dean could only start to guess what his brother was going through and what his hallucinated co-pilot was making him see. That's why he was so anxious now. With Sam's recent injury right after his wall breaking down and with Lucifer riding shotgun, nothing good could come out of this.
And on top of it all, Sam had taken his car. He had taken off, leaving only a note saying he'd be back in a few days. And he'd stolen the Impala! Dean was so going to kill him for that. He was just done fixing his baby, now wasn't the time to wreck her again.
Dean's mind was spinning at a hundred miles an hour and one more soap opera couldn't keep him from racking his brain with images of everything that could go wrong. He wouldn't wait for Sam to get home and chant excuses to him. Dean was going to go out and kick the hell out of his brother by himself. Injury or no injury, Sam was going down.
Dean's mind flashed back to the warehouse episode. His brother's panic is one thing he never wanted to see again. Then where the fuck was Sam?! What if this was another trick from the devil?
Dean couldn't take it. Against Bobby's advice to wait for a few days, he ripped his cast off and stormed after his brother's tracks. It's not like he didn't know the kid's habits anyway. He'd find him in no time.
And he did.
Sam was hunting a Kitsune. Dean was pissed at his brother for going on a case without him. Without even telling him. Was there something his brother wasn't telling him?
Either way, he'd wait patiently for Sam to come back to his motel room and then he'd punch the answers out of him. They were supposed to be a team. Dean didn't like his brother to work on his own, especially not with his car.
SPN
His head was pounding with every heartbeat and he felt more tired than he'd ever been. As his senses slowly acknowledged his surroundings, he realized how cold he was. He also started to wonder why he was lying on the ground. The soil was unequal and poking branches registered through the haze in his mind. That's how he came to think that he was in a forest.
The damp air and the fine rain also testified to his current location. He just couldn't remember how he'd gotten there in the first place. His instinct kicked in as he reached for the palm of his hand where an all too fresh scar stood darkly against his pale skin. He hissed at the firing pain that ran up his arm when he pushed against the scarred skin.
Sam opened his eyes sluggishly and blinked several times before his vision adjusted. He was indeed lying in the mud and his head was killing him. He realized something had fallen from his limp hands and reached out to the folded paper. That's when his memory rushed back into his brain, leaving him a shivering leaf.
He'd been chasing a Kitsune, whom turned out to be the very first woman he'd ever kissed. His heart clenched as he thought about Amy, about what she was and about what he was supposed to do now. Discarding her wasn't the first idea that came to his mind but people had died. He couldn't accept that.
The night sky was pitch black. He assumed it could only be late but he had no way of knowing how long he'd been out and really, he was having such a hard time focusing that he didn't even care.
God, did Amy have to bash his head so harshly against the trunk of the tree? And what was it monsters had with his head, anyway? Always going for it… Although even angels were on his case, as he recalled. Spinning head or not, there was no way he could forget about Castiel breaking his wall and letting all hell break loose in his noggins.
Sam mustered his remaining strength to pull himself up of the ground. The little action left him panting and his fingers dug painfully into the trunk of the tree he was heavily leaning onto. He had to go after Amy no matter what current state he was in. He looked at the receipt again and he knew he had to find this Amy Pond and get rid of her.
Sam sighed and brushed shaky fingers across his forehead, pulling back on his too-long bangs. He winced as his breath caught in his throat when he accidently put pressure on the right side of his head. She'd knocked him hard, indeed. He still hadn't fully recovered from the Leviathan who'd taken his head for a golf ball.
He pushed his pain aside and managed to get Amy's address. He had gotten good at this through the years. Finding her was easy. Killing her was something else.
Sam was ready to do it. But when Amy opened the bedroom door and Sam saw her son, his will died down. The girl pleaded him, telling him she was done killing for good. Sam was struck. He didn't know what to do anymore. And the Blonde had to bring back memories of the time they met. How they kissed. When she brought up that Sam owed him, that he should let her go, he knew this was over.
So he let her go.
The sole idea of driving back to the motel was excruciating. Sam tried to rub the pain away but it only beat louder in time with his rapid heartbeat. He tried to focus on the road but the street was like a giant snake twisting and turning in front of him. At that moment, he wanted to hurl.
He rolled down his window to try to take in some much needed air. His chest felt tight. The music in the background was grating on his nerves and he pushed the tape out aggressively. Then only did he realize how sweaty his palms were. He pressed his hands against his jeans, trying the rub the sweat away.
He looked up in time to avoid a collision with the rail guarding the side of the road. His heart picked up a dangerous race and pounded against his ribcage even after he regained control of the vehicle. He blinked several times to try to make himself more alert and shake his fear away.
He had to get back to the motel. He wouldn't remain unscathed much longer if he didn't.
The familiar motel sign brought comfort into his chest. He could finally sleep it off and drive back to Rufus' cabin in the morning where he would probably find a really pissed off brother. At that moment he didn't care, though. He really only wanted to crash and sleep.
After parking the car, Sam limped his way to the motel room, his lanky limbs dangling awkwardly. He hardly had time to turn and face the door in order to make sure he'd gotten the right one before he felt his breath knocked out of him as something hard connected with the side of his face. He fell back in shock and his head exploded in white hot agony when it crashed against the cold concrete. A dark veil clouded his vision and soon enough, he couldn't understand anything anymore.
He was in so much pain but it didn't make sense. His brain didn't even register the loud curses as his brother's voice exploded from the open doorway. When had Dean gotten there anyway? And Sam's heart picked up.
Was it Lucifer again?
But the idea died away as he sluggishly lost every sense of clear thinking.
SPN
Dean was bouncing off the walls now. He'd been waiting in Sam's room for his brother to return and he still had no news of him whatsoever. On top of that, Sam wouldn't answer his damn phone. He'd turned it off when he left and Dean was so going to kill him for that.
He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine. So Sam was alright after all. He was back but he still hadn't turned his phone on and he'd stolen the freaking car! Dean saw red. Sam was going to get a good taste of his anger.
Dean flung the door open only to see Sam walking towards the door with eyes he knew so well. His brother's body was there but his head was somewhere else. His own mind blacked out and his hand shot into action, leaving his side and ripping through the air. His clenched fist connected with the side of Sam's face and sent him to the ground.
Dean inwardly flinched at the sound his brother's head made when it hit the ground. But he pushed it aside, blinded by his anger and deafened by the sound of his own ragged breathing.
"Howdy, Sam" he greeted, a hint of haste and disappointment in his tone.
Sam grunted and clutched at his head. Pain was all over his face.
Dean turned his back on him, expecting his brother to pick himself up and follow him inside. Sam took longer than expected to stand upon shaky legs. For an instant he thought his knees would buckle but he managed to hold himself up by grabbing the walls around him.
He limped his way inside and closed the door behind him. Dean was still turning his back and Sam didn't even understand how his brother could be there. He didn't even have his cast on anymore. Nothing made sense and his head was quickly spinning.
He heard Dean talking in the distance but he was too caught up with keeping his own footing.
"New rule! You steal my baby, you get punched!" Dean shouted. He was furious but still not looking at his brother. If he had, he would've seen the way Sam clutched at his head. He would've seen the panic in his brother's eyes. But he wasn't looking.
"What the hell were you thinking, Sam?" he asked and finally turned. His words caught in his throat in time with his breath.
Sam was falling to his knees, agony stretching his features.
"Sam?!" His voice was filled with concern now. Sam was down and curled onto himself, resting his head on the carpeted floor. Dean rushed to his side in seconds, kneeling down next to his brother. He grabbed his shoulders and tried to get Sam's eyes to turn towards him.
"Sam? What's wrong?"
Sam finally looked up. Dean's heart clenched when he saw the panic in his brother's face. The kid was panting.
"D…m'arm" he slurred. Dean frowned with worry regarding the speech pattern but it was nothing compared to the sight he got when he turned to Sam's arm.
It was twitching slightly. Dean's eyes snapped open. "Shit!" he blurted out.
He gripped Sam's shoulders tighter.
"Okay, Sammy, hold on. Let's get you down slowly" he proposed.
Sam nodded, his eyes pleading his brother for help. It broke Dean's heart. What had he done? Sam was just recovering from a traumatic head injury and he went out and punched him. What an amazing brother that made him!
"D'n" Sam breathed. His eyes were wide from fear. The shaking had gone up to his shoulders and other arm. As soon as Dean laid his brother down, Sam's legs started twitching two. Dean's heart raced. His little brother was convulsing.
And the worst part was that Sam was awake through all of it.
Dean held him tightly, waiting for the twitching to stop and trying to keep him from hurting himself.
"D…" Sam cried, breathlessly.
Dean's heart clenched even tighter.
"Shh… Sammy, I've got you. It's okay" he soothed.
Sam's body kept convulsing and there was nothing he could do to control it. His eyes were wide with fear and he just wished he could pass out so he wouldn't have to feel the humiliation.
"m'k it st'p…" Sam breathed, tears pooling in his eyes. His brother had to hold the base of his neck to stabilize his head so he wouldn't bash it against the floor once more. Sam wasn't sure how much more beating it could take anyway.
And finally, just as they came, the convulsions were gone. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and slumped into Dean's arms. His brother let him rest and patted his shoulders in comfort.
"It's okay, it's over now" he assured softly.
Sam closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths to fill his starving lungs.
Dean kept a close eye on his resting brother. His heart was still racing. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He also hated himself for punching his already hurting brother. Sam might have been taller and bigger than him but when it came to his head, his little brother was a porcelain shop. With one hit, everything could break, especially now.
He closed his eyes in profound shame and bowed his head.
"I'm sorry, Sammy" he apologized.
Sam opened his eyes to slits and peered up at his brother. But his eyes quickly and suddenly widened as fear hit him once again, this time exploding within his chest. Dean didn't see it because he still had his head bowed.
"I shouldn't have punched you… your head… it's brok…" he started when a strangled sound made his eyes snap open. He looked down and his heart stopped for the second time.
"Dean!" Sam called too clearly and too painfully. His eyes were wide enough to pop out of their sockets. His fists were clenched and his jaw was shut tight. Something was so wrong.
"Sam?" Dean breathed before it happened and his whole world came crashing down.
One second, Sam was looking at him with fearful eyes and next thing he knew, they were rolling back into his head. His mouth slit open and a strangled cry came out before his brother's breath caught in his throat. It came so suddenly and so violently that Dean had to step away for his own safety and his brother's.
One second ago his brother was okay. Now he was far from it.
Sam's body was trashing on the floor. His arms and legs were flailing dangerously but that didn't even matter. He only cared that Sam's head was hitting the floor over and over again. His eyes were still slightly open where he could see the white in them. But it wasn't until Sam's mouth started producing foam that Dean's brain starting working into panic mode.
His brother was having a fucking seizure! The biggest one he'd ever seen. Nothing had ever prepared him for this. He quickly looked at the clock because he somehow knew that he had to keep track of time.
He then sprung to his feet and quickly grabbed a pillow off the bed to thrust it under his brother's jerking head. If he could keep him from hurting more, he would. And then he waited, counting the seconds until the grand mal passed.
The first three minutes had gone by and Sam was still violently trashing on the floor. Dean was panicking and he was focused so much on his brother that he almost forgot to breathe for himself.
Four minutes.
Still no change.
After five minutes, Dean knew he'd have the call an ambulance. He only wished it wouldn't get there. But Sam's limbs were still flailing and strangled sounds came out of his throat.
Four minutes and a half.
His brother was still seizing.
Dean wanted to bawl, to hurl, to rip his guts open only to let the pain out. He couldn't take this anymore.
Five minutes.
That's it. His brother had crossed the five minutes limit and still there was no change. Dean's heart shattered.
"Oh Sammy… what have I done" he breathed.
He picked up his cell phone and sadly dialed the emergency number.
"My brother's been seizing for over five minutes" he admitted in shame.
And the reassuring lady told him that an ambulance was on the way. But he wouldn't get calm until Sam stopped seizing and finally rested.
Six minutes.
This was agony. Dean felt like dying a little more with each passing seconds.
Seven minutes.
Finally.
The jerking stopped and Sam's limp body slumped to the ground. Dean felt a warm breath explode in his chest. Tears of relief escaped his eyes and he reached his brother's side.
Softly, he pulled Sam in the resting position, laying him on his side.
He murmured "Okay buddy, it's over now. You're okay. Just breathe, alright?!"
Only then did he notice how cold his brother's skin was.
He started trembling.
"S…Sam?" he stuttered.
He got no response. Not even the rise of a chest. Not even a puff of air.
Sam's chest was still and his lips were already turning an awful shade of blue.
TBC
Cliffhanger! Sorry about that! So what do you think about the story so far? Should I keep going? Tell me what you thought, I love to hear from you ! Take care guys!