Rain, Rain
A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone!
I
"'Evening, sir. We're with the Banter Police Station." The cop paused, flashed his ID like he was 'the man'. "I'm Sheriff Camden, this is my partner Jim."
Dean nodded briefly, after shaking hands with both cops. His heart was pounding against his chest. What if they did some weird criminal scanning of the blood on the highway and found it was Sam's?
Jim turned to Camden and muttered, "Storm's here, sir." The rain had started coming down in sheets now. It turned very dark almost instantly.
Dean sighed with obvious relief. He hoped that the rain would wash away his little brother's blood before someone found it. Sick thought.
"There was an occurence about two hours ago. Shooting. We have to question everyone about it. Guy at the counter told us you had returned from somewhere recently."
Dean's heart stopped. What would he do if they found out?
"Um. Yeah. I went to the store."
"The guy also said you weren't alone." Camden's eyes narrowed.
"Right. I went to the store...for my brother...'been feeling under the weather lately."
"Uh huh." Both cops looked back at each other. "Well, here's our card. Make sure you give us a call if you...have any information."
Dean held it in his trembling hands. He gave the cops a false smile. "Will do."
II
God. That was close. Too close. He slipped into the bedroom and found Sam in bed, whimpering. He sat down on the edge of the bed and felt the back of his forehead. He was burning up. Maybe the whole hospital thing would be a good idea right about now.
He shot up instantly and brought a quivering hand to his back as a moan escaped his lips. Jesus Christ, it hurt. White hot pains flashed through his body.
"Hey, hey. Calm down." Dean said, steadying his brother. He noted how pained he looked. His back arched forward, his hands gripped at his head. He pushed him back down on the bed gently.
"You okay, kiddo?" Stupid question. Of course he wasn't okay. The kid just got shot.
Sam nodded, biting down on his lip.
Dean brushed back the hair on his forehead. His temperature had gone down slightly. He seemed to be regaining his health from the restless sleep. He just wished he could have been unconscious longer.
Sam laid there, squirming at how uncomfortable. He was frustrated that he had turned onto his back while he was sleeping, and it took him some time to get back on his stomach. It hurt.
Dean eased Sam onto his side, rubbed his hand up and down his arm gently. Sam's breathing was labored, the physical activity exhausted him.
Dean let him sleep. It overtook him quickly. He stayed there at his side for a few moments, making sure nightmares would not plague him anymore, and slipped into his own bed, where he could get lost in his thoughts.
It was times like these that got Dean all quizzical. He had to be racking his brain like this in order to solve whatever was going on. He was almost positive that the cops would make another appearance, which only made him want to leave this place as soon as he could. Surely, Sam would be okay with sitting in the car.
He drifted off to sleep with that thought in mind. They'd head out in the morning.
III
Sam gripped the comforter and hugged it close to his chest. He had been sobbing for quite some time now. He had no idea how he was going to tell Dean.
He heard the constant ticking of the clock on the wall in the next room. It was so loud. It vibrated through his ears like a megaphone.
He was so tired, but this new obstacle he had to overcome would not let him sleep. He couldn't see himself sleeping for a long time because of this.
He wondered what it would have been like if he had never been shot. What if him and Dean were good, just sitting in the car, riding home, talking about their new hunt. Nothing would have happened.
This would not have happened.
He grimaced, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to talk to Dean. A huge part of him needed to share this. He would obviously find out about it in the morning.
Could he even wait that long? It was too long. Too long for him, anyway. Dean would want to know as soon as possible.
Dean was snoring peacefully, so Sam decided to leave it that way. He knew he needed the rest, he could tell.
What was he going to do?
IV
He was obviously awake when Dean woke from his slumber. He propped himself up on one elbow and glanced over at his brother.
"Morning sushine. How ya feeling?" Simple question. Didn't need much thought.
Sam hesitated. It was now or never. Either Sam spilled the beans now, or Dean found out. He'd be pissed if Sam told him he was okay. He wouldn't understand how Sam had kept this secret from him. How could he not? He couldn't just blurt it out. He felt it was his duty to at least give Dean a good night's sleep. No point in worrying about now.
"Uh.." Sam bit down on his lip. Tears sprouted in the corners of his eyes.
Dean got out of bed very quickly, eager to get to Sam.
"What is it, Sammy?" His voice was laced with concern.
Tears flowed gently know, the wetness on his face shining in the moonlight.
"Dean..." He cried out in agony. This was too hard. He just couldn't tell him.
He was getting impatient. He didn't want to force it out of him, but at this rate, he'd have to.
Sam pulled the covers off of himself with difficulty and started crying even more.
"I...I can't feel my legs."
TBC...
A/N: Oooh! A twist! Make sure you push that little purple button. I'd like to see everyone's reaction to this!
