Gimme Shelter
By Carol M
E/O challenge…a picture is worth a thousand words…Sam is unaware that Dean is hurt coming off a hunt when the brothers stop at a rundown abandoned house for some rest and relaxation
Word Count: 1000
Spoilers: None…I see this taking place season 1 or 2
Disclaimer: Don't own em, only love em
Enjoy!
"Dude, this is low rent even for us. I think we should keep going," said Sam as he looked around the dilapidated house in disgust. There were pieces of broken wood and bricks all over the floor. Not to mention spider webs and rat droppings and puddles of smelly liquids that could've been pee, blood or vomit or maybe all three. He went to set his duffel down and hesitated when he realized he was about to set it on top of the skeleton of a rat. "Ugh, god."
"This is first place we've seen for miles, Sammy," muttered Dean in a usually hushed tone, not noticing or caring about the rank surroundings. "And I could really…really use some r and r."
Sam noted the strained weakness in Dean's voice and glanced over at him, noticing now how pale and sweaty he appeared. "Dean?"
Dean ignored him and stumbled, dropping his duffel on the floor in a pile of green goo. "Jus gonna sleep a min…" He didn't finish the sentence. His eyes rolled up in his head and his legs collapsed underneath him, sending him spilling to the ground on top of his duffel.
"Dean!" Sam leapt to his brother in three giant steps and gently lifted Dean off the duffel and laid him out on the cleanest section of the floor he could find. He ran his hands up and down his brother's body from head to toe, trying to find the source of Dean's header into oblivion.
They had just come off a hunt at a small private school where demons had been possessing the teachers and trying to convince the students to kill their parents and destroy their community. Dean had fought the head demon while Sam had been busy reading an exorcism that they had blasted through the public announcement system. He hadn't noticed that Dean was any worse for wear other than a couple of cuts and bruises on his face.
But now, as he examined his brother closer, he realized how off his initial assessment had been. Sam's fingers dug through Dean's short hair, rubbing through the skin over his scalp, where he discovered a huge lump above Dean's right ear along with a gash that had been hidden in his hair line and must have stopped bleeding before Sam could notice.
"Damn it, bro, you stubborn bastard," Sam said as he continued the exam, lifting up his brother's shirt and grimacing at the fresh bruises and redness he saw marring Dean's chest and stomach, like he'd been used as a punching bag and a soccer ball. He ran his hands over Dean's midsection, digging his fingers in deep to check for internal bleeding and broken bones. The added pressure over the welts and black and blue marks had Dean moaning and panting against the obvious pain even in his unconscious state. Sam pushed on a particular nasty looking bruise over Dean's ribcage and winced in sympathy as he felt not one, not two, but three ribs give under his touch.
"Oohh," Dean groaned, a tremble coursing through his body. His eyes moved rapidly under his closed lids and Sam could tell he was close to regaining awareness.
"Easy," Sam soothed as he placed one hand against an unmarked spot on Dean's stomach and another on his back and carefully supported him as he turned Dean to the side to examine his back. Dean's posterior looked like his chest, maybe even worse. Several lines of red welts ran across the top of his back, like he'd been struck repeatedly with a blunt object. More bruises covered the middle of his back, but the worse was over his right kidney. The area was already a deep purple and the skin was red and broken on top of the bruise, like he'd been kicked with a steel toed boot or something else sharp enough to cut the skin. There was heat pouring off the injury as well, adding to Sam's concern.
He placed his hand over the contusion, hesitating at what he was about to do. Then he pushed hard, checking to see if the area under the skin was hard, a sign of potential internal bleeding.
Dean bucked away from him with a harsh cry and then a pitiful sounding whimper. "What the…ahhh! Son of a bitch!"
Sam stopped pressing, relieved that the area was only slightly tender and not hardened to the touch. It was probably just a really bad bruise. "Sorry, man," he replied, rolling Dean so he was prone against the floor.
Dean clenched his eyes shut and swallowed thickly, panting through waves of pain. "S'okay."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam scolded.
"Tell you what?"
"How much that demon messed you up?"
"M' fine, Sam, just need a little rest is all."
"A hospital is what you need."
Dean's eyes shot open. "No freakin' way, dude."
Sam glanced around the old house again, his nose crinkling with disgust. "Fine, then you at least need a place that has running water and a floor that isn't covered in a staph infection waiting to happen."
"You're so particular, Sam. I didn't know you were such a girl."
"Right," said Sam, extending his hand to help Dean sit up. "On three, one, two, three." Sam pulled his brother into a sitting position. Dean let out a grunt of pain and nearly fell back over. "Whoa, easy. I'm gonna get you outta here," Sam assured as he stood up and collected the fallen duffel bags.
Dean shakily remained upright, glancing around blurrily before noticing that something was crawling over his hand. He looked down and realized that his hand was right over a pile of ants that had branched out from one of the puddles of noxious goo.
"Sam?"
"Yeah…what?"
"I think we should go someplace else. This place is really disgusting."
Sam raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Ya think?"
"Yeah. I can't believe you picked this place out, Sammy."
"Shut up, Dean."
That's All Folks!