Title: Pack Animal
Author: Mad Server
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG13
Word-count: 400
Spoilers: Nope
A/N: This is for thruterryseyes, 'cause she was all, I'm gonna give you a present, and then I was all, well then I'm gonna give YOU a present. Smishes to Enkidu for the awesome beta.
Summary: Somebody's strayed from the pack. Somebody else won't let his pack go, even if it means hunting with the flu.
Disclaimer: Yeahhhh.
:::
Dean's staring at his shoes like they're a lost Zeppelin double album.
"That must have been terrible," Sam tells the witness, eyeing his brother's pasty face.
Dean blinks. "I'm gonna get the... thing." He's up and striding for the door before Sam can open his mouth.
When Sam goes looking, he finds him curled over the porch railing, puking into the flower bed.
:::
"Just lie down."
"No."
"Take the blanket."
"Get off me."
"You're not coming."
"One little vampire, Sam. I could eat one vampire for breakfast."
:::
Sam hasn't had to lower a fire escape for Dean since Washington, when they got jumped right after an all-you-can-eat buffet. Dean's face is drawn and focused as he climbs, breath loud in the city night, fingers tight on the railing.
There's no way they could do a nest right now. It's a good thing they've stumbled across the only vamp in the world who hunts solo.
:::
"I didn't think it was gonna be friggin' Dracula," Dean grunts from the dungeon floor. His chains rattle as he moves his palms back and forth across his belly.
Sam tries to unlock his cuffs with the power of his mind. He gets a nosebleed.
:::
"Thank god," Bobby sighs as he spills through the door, Rufus and four other guys hot on his heels.
Dean inches away from a puddle of vomit as Bobby mutters, "What's that smell?"
:::
"There's lots of room."
"I'm fine like this."
"Just stretch out."
"I don't want to."
"Put your head in my lap."
"Wave to Bobby."
"He won't care."
"Are we there yet?"
:::
In Bobby's kitchen, Sam makes tomato rice soup with extra garlic while Dean rests his head on his folded arms on the table, a ratty blanket tight around his shoulders.
"I'll get you when it's ready," Sam tries again, raising his eyebrows at the couch. Dean takes a loud breath, pretending to be asleep. Sam sneaks a kiss to his hot forehead. Dean doesn't move a muscle.
:::
end