MONSTER FROM THE DEEP
EO Challenge: Special birthday challenge for Wynefred's birthday - happy birthday my friend - write up to 1,000 words of hurt Dean and brotherly moments. Extra challenge, slip in the name of a song or band - see if you can find mine ...
Posting early for the birthday girl's big day today and because I'm going to be out of town at Asylum 12 convention squeezing Jared this weekend :)
Rated T for a couple of slightly naughty words.
Disclaimer: Guess what? I still don't own them!
Dean's been on a date and ended up on his back - although not in the way he would have hoped!
xxxxx
Dean had only wanted to impress the girl.
He'd hogged the bathroom half the night getting ready for the date, and Sam had had every expectation of not seeing his brother back at the bunker until well after sunrise with the same smugly debauched smirk he always wore after a successful and energetic conquest.
So when the phone call came from the authorities that Dean had keeled over in the middle of the restaurant and was being rushed to hospital unconscious and barely breathing, Sam's world had taken a nauseous tilt sideways, with shock washing over him like a bucket of ice water.
xxxxx
Dean's slightly-swollen face, still florid from the burning rash that had swept across his body like wildfire, was partly hidden under an oxygen mask, and Sam found himself taking comfort from the regular fogging of the mask as Dean's chest, scarred with deep purple lesions, rose and fell along with his quiet, unhurried breathing and the soft rhythmic beep of the heart monitor.
Seeing his brother so quiet and helpless, lying in a hospital bed, was something Sam had seen all too often and it was something he would never get used to. It was an offence against all that was good and right in the world to see Dean's larger-than-life presence so crushed and still. All the more so when Sam considered what it was that had put Dean here.
Oysters. That's right, stupid asshole oysters; freaking disgusting slimy things that looked and felt (and most probably tasted) like a pile of cold snot.
The hysterical girl had told the story to the paramedics and if it hadn't been so goddamn terrifying, it would have been hilarious. She had been extolling the virtues of oysters and Dean, (no doubt trying to appear like the sophisticated gourmet, Sam reflected with a wry smile), had readily agreed. When she'd mentioned they were an aphrodisiac, he couldn't stuff them down his gullet fast enough.
Sam knew perfectly well that Dean had never been near an oyster in his life - so how was he to know that he was catastrophically allergic to them?
xxxxx
But the paramedics had done their sterling work; thanks to them, Dean was out of danger. He'd feel like shit and hurt like hell for a couple of days, but he'd live.
Slipping a hand under the back of Dean's clammy neck, Sam gave a reassuring squeeze. It could have been his imagination but he would have been prepared to swear that through the contours of the fogged plastic, he saw a tiny quirk of a smile twitch across Dean's swollen lips.
Dean Winchester, stout-hearted monster hunter, stud stallion and badass mofo … done in by a lump of goo dredged up from the bottom of the ocean.
Oh, there were years of mileage in this.
xxxxx
end