Hey everyone
I wrote this story under the premise of what would happen if Sammy went down a road, looking for answers, where would it lead him, and he soon finds out that some questions should never be answered.
R&R greatly appreciated, as well as any constructive criticism. As well, I have open office, which means my spell check doesn't work, sorry for any spelling mistakes,
The first chapter is humorist, it will get darker down the road. So, why not start it off on a lighter note.
Dean knew this was a good idea, watching his little brother chug the last little bit of beer, his third one, he just couldn't help but smile.
"Chu-baby chu." Dean said smiling, peeling the label off. His eyes wondered to the piece of tale that just walked past the brothers.
"What?" Sam looked behind him when Dean didn't answer.
"Nothing little brother, you just keep chugging those Millers, but that is what I'm going home with." He stood-up, and attempted a B-line straight for the tank top and tight skirt.
"Your not going home with anybody, as much as I like you not to come home with me. We're leaving tomorrow, and your not slowing us down with little Miss. already got 6 numbers." Sam retorted, then went for more beer, when there was none left, he scrunched-up his face, closed one eye and starred down the empty brown bottle. How did he finish it so quickly? He hadn't even noticed how much he had to drink.
"Dude, take this totally the wrong way, but I'm sick of going home with you. I need a pair..." He made a pair of breast with his hands "And I need to put my....."
"Dude, TMI!" Sam shivered.
"TMI?"
"It means too much information." Said drunkily. Dean wanted to laugh, but he was just too horny, and needed to ditch his brother as quickly as possible.
"I know what it means, since when do you know it means?"
"Since I started reading your chat history." Sam let slip, he covered his mouth when he realized what he had done.
"You've been reading my chat history?" Dean said nervously, he knew he wouldn't be able to live this one down.
"Uh-mmmmm.....you say some funny stuff." Sam started to laugh. "My loins burn for you..." Sam laughed more, Dean quickly looked around, he could see some of the women over hearing his very loud brother.
"Let's make sweet, sweet passionate love." He continued to mock and laugh, he fell off his chair.
Falling hard onto the ground, he continued to laugh. Dean mearly shook his head and picked Sam off the ground.
"Your a funny guy." Sam swayed, Dean still holding on steadied him.
"Let's go, your drunk and you ruined my fun." He grumbled.
"Did you drink my beer? It seemed to just vanish." He closed his eye and looked into the bottle again.
"No, you did that all by yourself."
"I don't want to leave, we should do something fun. Llllike limbo, or strip poker...." Sam gasped. "I know, karaoke." Dean smiled, eyeing the karaoke machine.
"I think they have karaoke."
"I believe I can fly." Sam began to sing. "I believe I can, wait, your trying to trick me are you?"
"No never."
"That's a double negative. You are trying to trick me. You can't trick me, I went to Stanford, I'm know how to use my smarty pants brain." Sam picked-up his jacket, and clumsily put it on.
"I'm leaving, and I don't want to go home with you." Sam announced very loudly. "Just so all you ladies know, this guy, has slept with a lot of women.....I'm sure he has something. Like a kid." Sam stumbled out of the bar.
Dean watched him for a moment, he looked around, thoroughly embarrassed, he smiled at the pretty ladies, he tried to come up with an excuse, but just gave-up and followed Sam out the door.
Stuffing his hands into his pockets the cold air blew harshly against his bare skin. In his haste Dean forgot his jacket, stopping two feet away from the door, he turned around and went back into the bar to retrieve it. He could hear a couple of very attractive women giggling, they were starring at him, no doubt at his brother's very loud declaration.
Pulling the jacket around his large frame, he shook his head, this bar had an uncanny, unnatural selection of hot, Brazillian/Swedish/Italian hybrid of super hot, supermodel-esque hot chicks. Damn that Sam.
Walking further down the parking lot, he pulled the zipper all the way up, he didn't remember it being this cold, he thought as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. One good thing about Sam getting drunk would be the morning after, Dean smiled, he'd already pulled the greasy pork sandwich in a dirty ashtray trick. His grin grew in reminisce of one of the few times Sam had gotten plastered.
His smile dissapeared quickly, he wondered why Sam was drinking. It was unusual to see his little brother get drunk, it was unusual for his little brother to let his guard down, it was really unusual for Sam to break into his MSN account. A greasy hamburger with bacon and a fried egg on top, yep, right after Sam goes and throws up into the toilet, he would whip out his burger, with extra onions, and a side of chili cheese fries.
That's when he heard a noise, a growl, it was deep and spoke of a unsatiable hunger. He pressed a hand against his stomach, maybe he would make a pitstop for some fries with ketchup and mustard.....extra mustard. He pulled out his keys, shivering, he thought it would be a good idea to get some coffee as well.
Raising his head he could see Sam sitting on the cold, wet ground, he shook his head, and mumbled, now he would have to pick Sam off the ground again.
"Get-up Sam." He shouted as he walked towards the Impala, Sam was gripping his stomach. He didn't respond.
"If ya'gotta hurl, do it now.....in the bushes, no where near my baby." Dean commanded, Sam looked-up at Dean and collapsed onto the ground. "Sam." He waited for Sam to say something, he bent down, Sam's hand fell limp onto the ground it was covered in blood.
Dean pulled Sam's jacket quickly, a 2-inch knife wound, he put his hand against the wound, Sam began to cough, spitting up blood.
Bobby quickly read the numbers on the doors as he walked down the corridores, he hated hospitals, he hated the sanitized, ammonia smell, sickly people, nurses who no longer wore those cute and sexy uniforms, doctors who gave him a grave look and a 'I'm sorry' bullshit too many times.
He hated the sound of his shoes squeeking against the linonium flooring, he hated people knowing he was coming, he hated the clean, pristine sheets, he hate how cold it was, no matter how cold it got in South Dakota, hospitals were always colder.
He quietly opened the door, a large blue curtain covered the beds, 4 four in total, two on the right, two on the left, all of which were covered by the blue curtain. His shoes squeeked, he bit his tongue, he knew he was disturbing the patients.
"Sam?" He tested. Dean poked his head out, they acknowledged each other with a nod, Bobby squeeked over to the last bed on the right.
"Hey kid, howz it goin?" Bobby put a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Lost a spleen."
"No big deal." Sam raised an eyebrow. "Didn't need it anyways."
"That's what I told him." Dean had a white paper bag in his hand, he went through it, pulling out a greasy hamburger and promptly took a bit, smiling with a mouth full of food. Both Bobby and Sam just shook their heads.
"You do need your spleen, it's a resorvoir of blood, it stores it, and it.....oh...."
"I'd move if I was you." Dean warned, pulling Bobby out of the way just as Sam hurled onto the floor.
"Ew!" The older hunters said in unison. Dean put his burger away.
"I'll get the nurse." He ran out before Bobby could object.
"Sorry." Sam managed.
"It's alright kid."
Five minutes later Dean returned with an orderly, they had just walked to the curtain when they heard Bobby yelling.
"Boy! As your late daddy's friend I outta give you five across the eyes." Dean pulled the curtain across.
"What the hell is going on? He just got stabbed and your threatening him with violence." Dean said sternly.
"Did you hear the reason why he was stabbed." Bobby said heatly.
"No, I..." Dean tried to answer the question, but Bobby interrupted.
"He got some chick pregnant." Dean stumbled backwards.
"That'll do the trick." The orderly said as he passed Dean. The patient beside Sam started to laugh.
"I didn't get anyone....he merely accussed, key word, accused me of getting her preg-preg...that, that word."
"Pregnant, knocked up, PG, end of your life...." The orderly started as he sprinkled a powder onto the ground. The patient next to Sam laughed again.
"Dude, do your job, stay out of our personal business."
"Great job getting me a private room Dean." Sam grumbled.
"It wouldn't be an issue if you had used a condom Sam." The patient next to Sam was now laughing histarically, crying out in pain every so often.
"I didn't get anyone." He took a deep breath, trying to grasp the thought of getting some girl pregnant. "I don't know this chick, this guy who I've never seen before just accused me of getting her preg-preg-that-tht...uh"
"Here Sammy." Dean pulled out his wallet, slipping something out. "Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Happy Birthday." He said as he handed Sam a condom.
"I hate you." Sam grumbled.