Humpty Dumpty

Chapter Two

Jody hurried to open the door to the downstairs guest bedroom and get out of the way so that Sam didn't have to hold his brother in his arms for any longer than necessary. Not just because, judging by the small stifled cries of pain, Dean was suffering, but because the stricken man was a solidly built, six foot guy and she was unsure how long Sam could really carry him for.

She moved quickly to the other side of the bed as Sam carefully positioned himself so that he didn't bump Dean against the doorframe and entered the room. He stopped on the rug, beside the bed, bracing his feet wide but surprisingly only slightly winded.

"Do you wanna...put an old cover...on the bed?"

Jody looked at him in confusion.

"There's gonna be blood, Jody...Don't wanna ruin..."

She stopped him, carelessly waving his concerns aside, her bed linen the least of their worries right now.

"Not important, Sam. Just rest him down."

Sam nodded and shuffled forward, stooping to lower Dean to the fleecy coverlet. Jody leaned across, offering a steadying hand and pulling one of the pillows into place so it supported his head.

Sam straightened up, a grimace on his face as he stretched and cracked his aching back as Jody spoke.

"You okay?"

She flinched, realizing she was asking the same question that had flared Sam to anger just minutes earlier but was relieved when there was no adverse reaction to the enquiry this time.

"Yeah, I'm good. It's not the first time I've hadda carry him, won't be the last either."

She nodded, flashing him a brief smile of understanding before looking back at the man on the bed. Dean lay quietly, not really moving aside from the odd twitch and mumble. His eyes were closed but his mouth was moving like he was talking. Sam followed her gaze, noting her quizzical look.

"He's counting, or humming maybe."

He offered by way of explanation.

"He does that when he needs a distraction, like now when he's hurting, or if he's scared. Not that he often admits to being afraid."

Jody looked back up into Sam's eyes, accepting his knowing assessment of his brother.

"Maybe he's praying?"

She offered and Sam laughed, a short dismissive bark that surprised the sheriff with it's vehemence.

"You couldn't be more wrong, sheriff. Dean doesn't pray. Not ever."

There was challenge in Sam's stare which was quite intimidating so Jody kept her response moderated.

"He did earlier."

Sam's dark eyes were fixed on hers, his voice low.

"When?"

"When the cougar had you pinned down and we were trying to get to you."

Sam frowned.

"Praying? Are you sure?"

The challenge was still there but now tempered with a puzzled curiosity. Jody continued.

"Yeah, I'm certain. I was right beside him so I heard him clearly. As we were running to you, all the time under his breath he was...chanting, 'please God, please God'. It was like a litany."

Sam's face had softened so, if anything, he looked bemused, like it was unbelievable to him that his brother would pray.

"Really? Maybe it was just...you know...like an automatic thing, just something you say, cause of the situation we were in?"

Jody shook her head, touched by his bemusement.

"No, Sam, It wasn't like that, it was definitely a prayer. A prayer to God to protect you, save you from the cougar."

She watched as Sam glanced to his recumbent brother, his brows drawn down thoughtfully as he mumbled.

"Dean...he doesn't pray...he just doesn't."

Jody listened to Sam's same words repeated but with a much different tone this time. The disbelief and perhaps, disapproval was gone to be replaced with incredulity. She kept her voice soft when she answered.

"Well, it seems he does, Sam. He prays for you."

Sam's head came up and his eyes met hers and she saw tears gathering there. She realized that, unknowingly, she had opened a significant can of worms and wondered how she should continue but the thought was lost as Dean's pain-filled voice drifted from the bed.

"S...m?"

Their conversation forgotten, Sam grabbed the upright chair from beside the small dresser that hugged the wall and sat close to the bed, resting his hand on his brother's arm.

"I'm here, Dean. How're doing?"

Jody watched Sam tip his head, making sure Dean could look straight into his eyes without having to move and the sheriff liked him for the small kindness.

"Feel...Owhh!"

The rest of the sentence trailed off in a tight groan as the older man's hand slipped to his crudely bandaged leg and she watched him bite the inside of his lip, as he panted in distress.

"Easy, bro..."

Sam covered his brother's hand as he looked up to Jody.

"We gonna get you fixed up, man. You just stay calm. Jody? Can you get hot water and towels...plenty of towels."

Jody moved urgently pausing briefly as she reached the door.

"Anything else while I'm going?"

Sam thought for a moment.

"No...not that I can think of. I need to get some stuff from the Impala but I'll wait till you get back if that's okay."

His eyes said 'I don't wanna leave him on his own' and her nod back said 'I understand'.

"Sure, I'll be as quick as I can."

Sam smiled his thanks as she moved to fetch the supplies.

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It took two trips, the first carefully carrying a wide bowl filled with hot water and the second, with arms full of towels and her first aid box. Sam met her at the door and took the towels as she moved to the nightstand and opened the well-stocked kit appraising it's contents.

"I've got antiseptic and bandages and stuff, Sam, but I'm not sure it's gonna be enough for this..."

She turned back to the bed looking for the younger hunter but was drawn instead Dean's panicky gaze. He was pale in the dim light and soft shadows smudged his skin, bruising his already dirty face. He was breathing rapidly but each inhalation was shallow and she saw pain darting across his face as his wide green eyes held hers. She moved quickly to the bed, alarmed at his distress and sat beside him.

"You're hurting..."

It was an observation not a question and she placed a gentle hand on his chest as Sam moved to her side.

"Your leg or your shoulder?"

Sam's question was direct, pragmatic, but his eyes were caring.

On the bed, Dean opened his mouth to answer but just a little wheeze of air came out.

"No, Sam..."

Jody cut in, lifting her other hand also and carefully placing it too on Dean's chest.

"Is think it's his ribs."

She moved her hands, listening to his stilted breathing and pressing softly as she intently watched his face. It took only a couple of seconds for her probing fingers to feel the creak of damaged bone beneath them. Dean lurched upright, his good hand pushing hers away as he cried out in pain.

"D..don't...hurts!"

That was all he could get out, but it was clear for both the sheriff and Sam and she pulled her hands away quickly, looking up at Sam.

"Cracked, maybe broken ribs I think."

Sam nodded his concurrence and was already moving to grab his brother's shoulder as Dean swayed on the bed, his good arm clasped to his throbbing chest.

"We should try and sit him up a bit, it'll make it easier for him to get his breath."

Jody said as she rose, crossing to the armoire and pulling out extra pillows as Sam held Dean with an arm round his shoulders. She pilled the pillows against the metal bed frame, stacking them three, then four high.

"Dean?"

Jody bent so she was level with the hunter's face.

"We need to move you back a bit, so you aren't laying flat. It'll help you breathe easier. Okay?"

Dean's head rolled toward her and she could feel his staccato breath against her cheek. His eyes were wide, frightened and she didn't know if he was hearing her. She leaned in closer.

"You understand me? We need to lift you back a bit? But it might hurt..."

His brow furrowed nervously as his wheezing continued but he nodded. She smiled encouragingly and stood, taking position by the bed, kneeling with her right knee on the covers.

"Sam..."

Sam hung onto Dean's arm preventing him from flopping back but bent his leg and similarly knelt. Jody tucked her hand into Dean's armpit, working it round behind him so she could lift him when the time came and once she had him braced, Sam let go his grip. It wasn't as easy on Sam's side as he couldn't get hold of Dean's injured arm in the same was as Jody so Sam placed one hand on Dean's waist and the second under his crooked knee.

"On three, Jody."

Their combined scoot-back was well executed and thankfully drew minimal noises of distress and soon, Dean was settled back, propped on a pile of pillows with Jody and Sam watching him to see if the move had improved his breathing.

"Any better?"

Sam nervous impatience was evident in his voice and sympathetic frown.

"Give him a minute, Sam."

Jody sat back on the bed and smiled encouragingly at Dean.

"Try and breathe as deep as you can."

His green eyes followed her but his chest was still pumping too quickly. She put her hand to his chest.

"Breathe in..."

Jody sucked in a breath and held it momentarily, watching Dean struggle to follow.

"And out..."

She repeated the exercise a number of times and was relieved as the panting decreased to a more normal pattern. She moved her hand away.

"Better?"

Dean licked his dry lips.

"Mmm...b...better..."

His voice was low and raspy and he coughed a little, holding his ribs painfully as he did but his colour was a little healthier and Jody smiled happily as a relieved Sam rose to stand by the bed.

"I'm gonna get our kit from the car, Dean. I need stuff Jody's doesn't have if we are going to get you patched up."

Dean looked up and nodded slowly.

"Okay, Sam."

Sam held his brother's eyes for a few seconds, satisfying himself he was in no immediate danger before moving to the door. He paused there again, looking back to the bed. Dean raised his eyebrow, flapping his good hand weakly.

"Go, I'm fine, honestly."

Sam nodded once and jogged purposefully for the Impala

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"So, Dean..."

Jody tapped gently on the hunter's shin, drawing his focus back to her.

"What say we get your boots off while Sam's getting your stuff? My Momma always said never to trust a man who wears his boots to bed."

She smiled and was delighted to see Dean smile slightly too. His cheeks had a little colour again and his breathing was definitely better now he was more upright.

"Unless he's a cowboy, sheriff."

Dean responded, surprisingly sharp for someone so beat up and Jody laughed as she twisted on the bed so she could reach his feet.

"Well, sure, then a girl'd make an exception."

She countered as she took in Dean's boots, her lip curling at their filthy, broken down state. Will had be right that they were worn down to holes when he'd described Sam and Dean to her on their arrival. Her mind drifted back to that day at the sheriff's station. Was it really only three days ago now? It seemed like a lifetime.

"Sheriff?"

Jody looked up from the mountain of reports on her desk and smiled wearily at the deputy who hovered nervously at her open office door.

"Will..."

Her voice was soft, betraying her tiredness.

"Something up?"

He nodded apologetically, stepping closer to the desk.

"Sorry to butt in when you said to leave ya be but..."

He jerked his head back towards the reception area of the tiny station.

"There's two guys out here insisting on seeing you in person."

Jody's eyebrow raised in question.

"Who are they?"

The deputy leaned conspiratorially closer.

"They said their names are Smith and Wesson..."

The sheriff frowned, the names didn't particularly resonate for her.

"Did they say what'd they want with me?"

Will shook his head, glancing back in the direction of the mystery callers.

"No, not as such, Sheriff...they're not saying much really. Just keep asking for you personally..."

His tone was still apologetic but concerned and Jody could hear an undertone, something yet unsaid. She widened her eyes, silently giving him permission to finish the sentence. Will took her cue.

"I can't really put my finger on it but..."

"Spit it out, Will."

Impatience tinged the sheriff's words.

"Okay, sorry...Yeah well they seem kinda...I don't know...sorta shady?"

Jody's month tightened in annoyance. She was short staffed and up to her neck in official clap-trap and she didn't need some fly mystery men taking up her precious time.

"Shady how, Will?"

She checked her holster as she stood and came round the desk to stand by her deputy. The young man frowned looking for the right words.

"Well they're scruffy looking."

She nodded and gestured Will to walk with her.

"Go on."

"Torn jeans, cheap clothes, boots worn down to holes practically..."

Jody wasn't impressed by what she was hearing.

"Taller one needs a haircut and they both look like they haven't slept in a while."

They had reached the entrance to the public area of the Sheriff's station and Jody paused.

"Good observations, Will."

The young deputy blushed vaguely.

"Anything else?"

"No, that's about it, I think...Oh wait the shorter one's real cocky and he told me to tell you that your 'pest exterminators' were here?"

Recognition dawned on Sheriff Mills face and she laughed out loud, surprising Will.

"S'okay, Will...I'll take it from here."

She stepped through the doorway, smiling at the men standing by the counter.

"Howdy, boys. What the hell took you so long?"

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She shook herself from her revery and returned to the task in hand, tugging at the mud-covered laces as she held Dean's shin steady so as not to jostle his injuries. The wet and filth had the laces fixed pretty tight and Jody was struggling. She pulled harder and heard Dean hiss softly as his leg rolled under her hand. She looked up to see him grasp his thigh as his eyes closed in pain.

"Sorry."

She let go the boot and let him rest till the spasm passed and his eyes opened again and found hers.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

He nodded, letting out a soft sigh.

"I know, Jody. It's fine. Just pull, I don't think there's an easy way to do this."

The sheriff rose and went to the armoire again, reaching into a box on it's floor.

"I have a better idea..."

Her voice was muffled as she leaned into the cupboard, and Dean watched her with interest. She straightened up, something shining in her hand as she came back to the bed.

"I'll cut the laces..."

She held up a pair of large sewing scissors.

"It'll be easier than trying to untie then when they're so wet."

Dean nodded his consent and Jody placed the blades to the laces.

"Hold onto your leg. Keep it still."

The hunter reached forward as much as he could and gingerly gripped his bloodied limb as she snipped one by one through the laddered loops and then pulled the soggy leather from his bare feet.

"Where are your socks?"

She chided as she dropped the boots onto the rug and wrapped her hands round his slightly-blued toes.

"You're feet are freezing!"

Dean wiggled his toes happily in her warm hands.

"Umm...Sam's wearing 'em I think."

Jody rubbed his chilled skin, looking questioningly at him.

"Why's your brother wearing your socks? And why didn't you just put another pair on?"

Dean shifted against the pillows, thinking through his response, slight embarrassment on his still pale face.

"I'm sorta down to one pair, Jody..."

She looked at him in surprise, the idea slightly ridiculous to her considering the often filthy, wet, mucky nature of their work. She didn't know why it was really of any importance anyway but found herself asking anyway.

"So, if you only have one pair what happens when they're in the wash?"

Dean smirked and pointed at his bare, now-warm toes nestled in her embrace.

"Well then they have to go commando!"

He laughed carefully, cognizant of his creaking ribs as Jody nodded her understanding. She reached a furry throw from the footboard and tucked it around his feet, her face still pensive.

"If Sam's wearing yours..?"

Dean tipped his head, his eyebrow raised, wondering where she was going with her question.

"Yeah..?"

"Why don't you wear his?"

Jody's face was a mask of vague triumph as if she had solved a complex riddle he had set her. It was charming and Dean laughed again.

"Have you seen the size of his feet? Both of us could use one of his socks as a sleeping bag!"

It was the sheriff's turn to laugh then.

"What's so funny?"

At the door, Sam's voice was curious as he negotiated his way into the room, their packs and the bag of medical supplies in his hands, along with a couple of large bottles of Holy water from their stash in the trunk. Jody moved to help him.

"Nothing. We were discussing...couture!"

The sheriff laughed as she took the bottles from Sam and he looked from her to Dean, friendly suspicion on his face.

"Couture?"

Dean nodded but teasingly didn't elaborate as he wriggled his toes in their fuzzy cocoon.

"Okaaay, random."

Sam dropped their bags against the wall and crouched, reaching items out and handing them up to Jody who placed them on the bed next. Suture kits, galley pots and swabs, all in their sterile packs, marked with the logos of the various hospitals they had acquired them from soon crowded for space and the sheriff eyebrows raised at their contraband personalized pharmacy.

"How d'you get all this?"

Jody looked first at Sam then across to his brother as she handled the expensive looking items. She took in their unsurprisingly similar, slightly shifty, but unapologetic grins.

"No...stow that. Don't tell me. I suspect it's better that I don't know the answer to that."

Sam stood and looked down at her disapproving face.

"Sorry, sheriff."

His big brown eyes dripped remorse and Jody laughed, looking over to Dean.

"Uh huh, Sam. Sure you are. Does that work on you, Dean? The whole puppy-eye thing. I mean?"

Dean shook his head emphatically, his grin cheeky.

"Nope. I'm immune but I've seen it work wonders on the weaker sex."

Jody raised an eyebrow.

"I have a gun you know, Winchester? And a number of cold, uncomfortable jail cells..."

She left it hanging in the air and Dean hastily smothered his grin.

"Yes, Ma'am."

She held the stare for a second or two, taking in Sam too before looking back to the supplies, her voice serious now.

"So where do we start, Sam?"

The younger man turned to the bed and it's occupant.

"Dean? Leg or shoulder?"

Dean shifted against the pillows, his face involuntarily paling a little more.

"Leg, Sam. Let's build up to the fun stuff."

Sam nodded, his manner suddenly brisk and business-like and Jody was left to wonder at the Winchesters perverse definition of fun

Chapter ends.