For the first time, this tag didn't come into my head already written - I just got the idea, and then expanded on it after.
I really wanted to write some h/c for "Jus In Bello", and this is what I came up with. It isn't too long, but I kind of like it anyways.
I do know that Dean didn't really seem in that much pain in the actual episode, but hey, you know me, I just had to get more h/c out of it. ;)
Anyways, enjoy!
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As soon as Henricksen and the sheriff had left, Sam scrambled to his brother's side. Or closer, anyway, seeing as they were already chained together.
"Dean, dude, are you okay?"
Sam gripped Dean's good shoulder, trying to get a look at the bullet wound.
Dean grit his teeth, groaning. "Dammit, Sam! Son of a bitch!"
"Did it go right through? Dean, lemme see." Sam pulled away his brother's hand, tugging back his jacket and looking first at the entry wound, which looked fairly nasty.
"Ouch," he said quietly, but Dean's only answer was a slight moan of pain. Sam gently pulled him forward so his head was on Sam's chest, and looked over his shoulder to see his back.
There was a hole in Dean's jacket, and now Sam noticed the splatter of blood on the wall behind.
"Well at least it's not stuck inside," he said optimistically, pushing his brother upright again, but then frowned at Dean's face. His brother was pale, eyes closed.
"Dude, you okay?"
Dean grunted, then shook his head a little bit. "Sam – gonna be sick…"
Sam quickly pulled him up, positioning him in front of the toilet as gently as he could.
When Dean was finished, Sam carefully pulled him back over to the bed and sat him down. "I guess you're not okay. Let me take a look at that, okay?"
Dean shook his head, gritting his teeth. "'M fine, Sam – just a shoulder shot."
"Yeah, just a shoulder shot," Sam repeated, rolling his eyes. "A shoulder shot that's making you puke up your guts. Let me look, okay?"
Dean huffed loudly, then squeezed his eyes shut, deciding that wasn't a very good idea. "Just the pain, Sammy."
Sam ignored him and pushed his jacket off of his injured shoulder, pulling back his shirt and then his t-shirt to see the wound.
"You're bleeding pretty heavy, dude."
"Coulda told you that," Dean said tightly, flinching away from Sam's feeling fingers.
Sam did his own huff, and then started to ease off Dean's jacket.
"Dude, what the hell?" Dean managed, pulling away and shoving Sam weakly.
"Dean," said Sam in what he hoped was a patient tone, "I need to see the back of your shoulder. And it's gonna be kinda awkward if you still have your jacket on."
"Why do you need to see?" Dean asked, knowing he sounded a little whiny. But he really didn't feel good, and would rather just sit still and close his eyes until the pain got better. Not be moving all around trying to get off his jacket.
"Well let's see, Dean. Maybe cause I don't want you bleeding to death?"
"How is looking going to help?" Dean asked, but was ignored firmly as Sam took his jacket off the rest of the way, whispering "Sorry," as Dean hissed in pain.
Once he had Dean's jacket off, Sam moved behind him, inspecting the bullet wound. Thing was, Dean was right (as much as he hated to admit it). Looking wasn't going to do any good. They didn't have any supplies. And Dean was bleeding pretty bad.
Sam sighed loudly, wondering if there was even the slightest chance he could get the cops to give him something. Wouldn't they want to keep Dean alive? Hmmm. He wasn't holding his breath on that one. Still.
He was distracted then by Dean, who had suddenly begun shivering quite violently.
"What's the matter?" Sam asked, grabbing Dean's good shoulder again.
"'M cold," Dean muttered, hunching over.
"Oh, sorry man. Let's get you back into your jacket."
It was a bit of a struggle, and Dean was going seriously pale again, but they finally managed to get him into his jacket.
"Feel better?" Sam said.
Miserable and grumpy with pain, Dean snapped "What do you think?"
Sam sighed loudly. "Well sorry, Dean. Just trying to make sure you're okay." He huffed again and looked away.
Dean wrapped his arm around his stomach and held his breath, closing his eyes. Freaking cops. His shoulder really hurt. And now he was pretty sure he'd hurt Sam's feelings, too. He couldn't stop the slight whimper that escaped as his shoulder twinged, and immediately Sam gripped his arm again, head close to Dean's.
"Bro are you okay?"
When Dean didn't answer, just sat there trembling, Sam wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer, letting his brother rest his head on his shoulder.
Despite the fact that he really was not in the mood for a chick-flick moment, Dean couldn't help feeling comforted by Sam's arm around his shoulders. Maybe Sam wasn't mad after all. He reached up and gripped the front of Sam's shirt.
"Sorry, Sammy."
"For what?" Sam sounded genuinely surprised.
"Snapping at you. Didn't mean it."
Sam tightened his arm around his shoulders. "Forget it, Dean. I know you're just grumpy cause you're hurting. I know you didn't mean it."
Dean sighed, relieved. He really wished he could just stay here, leaning on Sam, but his shoulder was really bleeding. He could feel it. And there were demons out there, waiting for them. And crazy cops in here, planning on shipping them off to prison forever. Hell no. This was so not happening.
He slowly, painfully pulled himself away from Sam, felt grateful that Sam left his arm around his shoulders anyway.
"Sammy?"
"Yeah Dean."
"My shoulder's really bleeding dude."
"Okay, Dean. Okay…" Sam's eyes flicked around their little cell, looking for anything, anything to stop Dean's bleeding.
"Hey Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"There's toilet paper."
Dean was silent for a moment, then "You're kidding, right."
"Come on, Dean. It's better than nothing."
Sam let go of him to grab a big wad of it. "Here you go. Hold that on there, okay Dean?"
Dean took it from him, wrinkling his nose in annoyance.
"Dude… toilet paper?"
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Thanks for reading!!! Please leave a review on your way out and let me know what you thought - reviews make me all warm and fuzzy inside. :)
Deanandhisimpala