On the day Dean left the hospital it seemed almost the entire staff and patients who were basketball fans, came out to say good-bye
On the day Dean left the hospital it seemed almost the entire staff and patients who were basketball fans, came out to say good-bye. This meant at least 50-100 people saw him being pushed along in a wheelchair like some invalid, until he reached the blessed freedom of the hospital's automatic front doors. Then Sam just had to go and worsen the humiliating experience by trying to help him out of the chair. Dean pushed him away and went to take his bag from the nurse, only Sam beat him to it and hurried over to the cab, placing the duffel in the trunk. Dean huffed and grabbed the cane the nurse held out to him before he hobbled over to the cab. Sam hurried over to his side and opened the door for him. Dean seethed and reluctantly got into the cab as Sam shut the door behind him. The hospital staff waved them off as Sam got in and the taxi pulled away. Sam gave the driver the address and sat back in the seat. Dean was more than a little tense. He was in a car, not completely unlike the kind that crashes, causes bodily harm and loss of all memories. Yeah leaving the hospital was a fucking great idea.
'So…glad to be out of the hospital?' Sam asked.
Yeah sure, the hospital may have been smelly, cold and intimidating (as well as more than a little humiliating) but it was safe. Now he's in a something tonne moving vehicle filled with highly flammable gas going at high speeds surrounded by other moving gasoline filled death traps. Dean is SO glad he left the hospital. Dean just looked out of the window and went with his usual way of dealing with Sam or not dealing as the case may be.
'So you don't need to worry about anything, the team got someone to fill in for you while you're recovering. I've been given as much time as I need off work to help you at home. Which I've made sure is fully supplied with everything you might need. Food, painkillers and some rehab equipment.' Sam explained.
Dean unresponsively stared out of the window, warily eyeing the other cars. Dean actually flinched when a truck drove by. Sam touched Dean's arm.
'You okay?' he asked concerned.
Dean shoved Sam away and continued his careful watch.
'Is there anything else you need or you'd like me to get for you?' Sam asked.
Once again there came no response.
'Okay, if you think of something let me know,' Sam offered and then looked out of his own window.
The cab pulled out front of the complex and Sam got out and got Dean's bag. Dean got out of the cab as fast as he could with his leg and onto the sidewalk. Dean's first thought was wow. This place was huge…and fancy. It was so not what Dean had pictured for himself. Sam lead the way inside talking about some crap as he got them in the elevator and pushed the button two floors down from the penthouse. Dean shook his head and dug his hands in his pockets, willing away the pain surging up his foot; ignoring whatever Sam was yabbering on about now. The elevator stopped and they both got out. Sam unlocked their door and Dean walked inside.
Fancy shtix, Dean thought as he looked around.
'Yeah so this is it. Not the penthouse but it's got walls and roof, and spare rooms to put all of our shit,' Sam stated.
It's freaking HUGE, Dean thought to himself.
'So ah, this is the living room,' Sam pointed out 'Where we've spent many a night watching whatever game was on and some really bad horror movies.'
Sam then gave him the tour, showing him every room in the damn apartment.
'So we've got living room, kitchen, the awesome bathroom and doubly awesome huge tub-,' Sam spoke and Dean had to silently agree there 'the exercise room, the office room, the recreation room equipped with bar, air hockey and pool tables, dinning room, laundry and finally the ah bedroom,'
They awkwardly stood in front of the doorway to the bedroom that had an absolutely massive bed. Dean's gayness level arose by 30 points when he silently added to himself, huh nice curtains.
'So ahh, we only have one bed, but if it makes you more comfortable I can sleep on the couch?' Sam offered.
'Sounds good,' Dean actually replied before he took his bag from Sam and threw it into the room before walking inside and slamming the door in Sam's face.
Dean had been locked up in the bedroom for three hours now and Sam was getting restless. He wanted to just lock himself in a room alone with Dean and make him listen to what he had to say. But that would only make Dean retreat further away from him. Sam was so god damn frustrated he nearly knocked on Dean's door at least 15-20 times but stopped himself and walked away. In his head Sam went through all kinds of ways to get Dean to open up. He could go to Dean with a huge plate of goodies and get him to open up with food…which would probably end with Dean opening the door long enough to take the food and then slam the door in Sam's face yet again. Sam could go buy Dean some really awesome stuff…like a new Xbox or whatever for their room but Dean would just find it completely suspicious if Sam tried to buy his trust. It was just so darn hard to have Dean be like this. For Sam not to do something to make it better. He needed to make it better. He needed to make Dean see that it was okay. That he could trust Sam again. That Sam loved him so fucking much. Sam realised he was standing in front of their bedroom door again. God it was so fucking tempting. Sam rose his hand and was about to knock when the phone rang down the hall, in the kitchen. Sam froze and broke out of his compulsion. He hurried down the hall and grabbed the phone on the sixth ring.
'Hello?' Sam asked.
'Sam McQueen you knock on that door and disturb that boy so help me I will run thousands of miles just to beat your ass,' a familiar voice threatened him.
'Missouri?' Sam asked.
'Of course it's me. I know you ain't stupid boy so don't act it,' she scolded.
'Sorry,' Sam apologised 'How's your friend doing?'
'Not so good. She's saying her good-byes, though she ain't got much family left to say good-bye to. I'm trying to comfort her as much as I can but death is a large fear we all carry and we all must face,' she sighed 'At my age I'll be facing it sooner rather than later.'
'Don't say that,' Sam begged 'Please, I've had enough of death or near deaths to last me a while.'
'That you have dear, and I'm sorry. I'd be with you boys now if I could but…she needs me. And even if I were there with you I'm not sure I'd do either of you any good,' she thought aloud 'Speaking of though I could just…just box your ears over the way you handled…I understand what you were going through Sam I do, but distancing yourself from Dean to spare pain was damn stupid…and all for naught as the case may be.'
'I know, I know, you have no idea how much I regret that. Just…it was just...I was so scared,' Sam confessed.
'I know dear. Now about this business with Dean-,' Missouri began.
'I know, leave him be, right?' Sam sighed.
'Exactly. Trust isn't something that can be established over a good chat Sam. Give him space, give him time. You smothering him won't help any,' she advised.
'Yeah, yeah I know,' Sam nodded.
'It's kind of like…playing hard to get. You don't want to fall all over yourself trying to get his attention. Be there for him if he needs it and offer help…once. But never force anything on him. I know right now you feel like you just want to go in there and make everything better, you're a doctor Sam it's your nature, but the only chance you have of getting that boy back is to leave him be. He'll come around,' Missouri encouraged.
'You're sure?' Sam asked.
'One way or another Dean will come around. Just-,'
'I know, leave him be,' Sam sighed.
'And have patience,' Missouri added 'I'm afraid I have to go now. My love to both of you. Take care of him Sam.'
'I will, bye.'
As soon as Dean shut the door in Sam's face he let himself collapse on the bed. That car trip had rattled him and he just needed to calm down for a minute or 30. Dean looked up at the ceiling and admired the colour and carvings. He sighed and moved his hands up under his head. Fuck they had a comfy bed, and huge too, probably great for sex. Which he wasn't thinking about because according to everyone the only person he was having sex with was Sam. Not that Sam was ugly, far, far…far from it. It was just that Dean really didn't trust the gigantic freak of a gorgeous doctor. Dean sighed frustrated. Maybe the reason why he wasn't feeling a connection with Sam was because there wasn't one. Maybe it was just really, really fucking awesome sex on their huge fucking bed. Dean could believe that, Sam seemed like he'd be a sexual guy, big careful hands, huge fucking grin which meant a huge fucking mouth for shoving things in. Plus he had those bedroom eyes of his. And Dean was stopping his thoughts right the fuck now because he was NOT going to think about Sam.
Dean looked to his left and the bedside table caught his eye. His mouth dropped a little. There was a framed photo of Sam and Dean on the bedside table. They were on a beach, shirtless and golden in the sun. Sam was lying on his back in the sand with Dean on top of him his legs and arms on either side of Sam's body trapping him where he was. Sam however didn't seem the least bit upset by this, he had that huge fucking grin on his face looking up at photo!Dean and his hands were grasping at Dean's hips. They looked like they were completely unaware of the photo being taken. Dean was smirking down at Sam, while the younger looked up at him adoringly. He was younger there, they both were. Dean hadn't seen Sam at ease like that before. So completely relaxed and grinning stupidly. It was a nice photo, Dean admitted. He wanted to know where it was taken, why they were at the beach, how old they were. It frustrated the hell out of him that he already knew but his stupid brain was damaged in the parts that the consciousness would travel to access the memories. Stupid neural pathways.
Dean picked up the photo and lay back on the bed. Okay so maybe at some point Dean may have been with Sam and Sam had cared about him but why the hell would he not feel anything now? No warm fuzzies, no déjà vu, nothing. The whole thing just smelt bad. Dean put the photo back and rolled onto his other side, away from the incriminating photo. Unfortunately another photo taunted him on the opposite side of the bed, on the bedside table. Only this one had more than just the two of them. Sam was wearing one of those graduation robes with Dean standing next to him and John on Dean's right. An older man and woman stood on Sam's other side with a dark skinned chubby woman beside them. A young girl and boy sat on the ground in front of the group. The girl had a stiff smile on her face and the boy was pulling a face at the camera. John was smiling politely for the photo. The other couple and the tubby woman had huge freaking smiles on their faces and once again Sam was looking at Dean with that bloody smitten puppy dog look and Dean was smiling back. Dean didn't like the smile photo!Dean was giving Sam it was way too personal and way to intimate. Frustrated again Dean got up out of bed and began to unpack his stuff from the duffel.
He had gotten his shirts out when he heard a creak by the door. He looked up and saw the tell tale sign of a shadow under the door.
"Just go away Dude," Dean mentally begged Sam "Just leave me alone."
A minute later the shadow moved and disappeared. Dean sighed and returned to unpacking. He opened the closet and gave a whistle. He and Sam had some nice threads. He went through the closest and came to the conclusion that either he or Sam had a great love of rock bands, particularly Metallica, ACDC and Motorhead. Whoever they were. Dean finished and walked back into the bedroom. The shadow was back by the door. O-okay that's not creepy stalker like at all. The shadow disappeared and Dean shook his head. He pulled out his rehab activities sheet and read it through again. The top of the sheet read. NOT TO BE UNDERTAKEN WITHOUT SUPERVISION. Dean snorted at that and then tossed the paper on the bed. He dropped the floor and began his push ups. He increased the number of reps of the activities required by half. He wanted to be able to get out of here as soon as possible. He did NOT like having to depend on someone else to live his life. Speaking of his life, he would actually like to live it. Get his own place, own stuff, own friends. Dean moved onto sit ups when the shadow reappeared and actually mumbled to himself. A smile spread across Dean's face. He could just imagine Sam standing behind the door, taking his hand off and back on the door knob. He was such a geek, so like a giant puppy. Dean heard the phone ring and the shadow disappeared. Dean limped over to the door and opened it slightly to peek down the hall. Sam was talking to someone he knew very well. Dean couldn't hear what Sam was saying but he was pacing a lot and speaking in that concerned frantic tone he gets. Dean shut the door and fell back into the rehab routine.
It was tough with the extra work but hell no pain no gain was a saying for a reason right? That's what one of his team mates told him when he visited anyway…jackass, who the hell says that to a car accident patient. Dean was doing his last few leg exercises when his bad leg cramped up. A huge spike of pain ceased his leg. Dean cursed and clutched at it. He swallowed a cry and bared down waiting for the pain to subside. It past in five minutes and reduced to a constant ache. Dean was panting and sweating.
'God damn it!' Dean cursed.
He hated this, he hated being weak. His dream of his own life just became so much more further way. Dean managed to stand and fall back on the bed fuming. His eyes fell on the picture of him and Sam at the beach. He grabbed in and threw it at the wall. The glass smashed. Sam knocked on the door and asked if he was okay. Dean kindly told him to piss off.
Dean awoke to the pressing need of his bladder. He looked over at the clock beside the bed. 3.10 am. Dean threw the covers aside and grabbed his cane. He opened the door and limped across the hall to the bathroom. He put his cane aside and went about his business. He still had the faint taste of dinner in his mouth. He had to admit that Sam despite whatever conniving plans he may have, could fucking cook. Dinner was the one time he had left his room all day. The sweet smell of steak was too good to pass up. Unfortunately Sam wouldn't let him have any beer though, because of the drugs he was on. And then the smartass went and hid it after Dean nearly scored one when the caretaker's back was turned. Dean decided that he'd go ahead and let Sam cook for him. After all Dean had forgotten how. Hell Dean could have been the one that taught Sam to cook. Dean pulled his draw string pj's up and washed his hands before he grabbed his cane and walked back into the hallway. He got distracted though when he noticed the light on in the living room. He walked down the hallway and peeked around the corner. Sam was sitting down with his back to him among piles of what looked like books. Dean frowned what could be so important at 3.10 in the fucking morning? Dean figured Sam must be a hell of a workaholic and shrugged it off as he turned and walked back down the hallway to bed.
Dean awoke early the next day to begin his rehab exercises. Everything was going fine until he got to his leg exercises again. Once again his leg cramped up only this time it was worse. Dean bit his knee to keep from screaming. It hurt so much he felt sick. The pain was constant for twenty minutes this time. Dean decided to stop there today and try again tomorrow when Sam left to check up on Sarah and the babies. About an hour later the most beautiful smell in the world stirred Dean from his groggy slumber. When he entered the kitchen he found Sam putting the final touches to the breakfast of champions. Although the breakfast wasn't the first thing on his mind when he entered the kitchen. It was Sam, in an apron, with frills. Dean chuckled and Sam turned to him.
'Hey, sleep okay?' Sam asked.
'Fine, how was the sofa?' Dean asked gloating a little.
'Great,' Sam smiled that damn smile and Dean cursed inwardly he hated that damn smile.
'Bacon?' Sam offered.
'Wouldn't want it to go to waste,' Dean shrugged and sat at the table.
Sam brought him his breakfast and left the dinning room.
'You're not having any?' Dean asked confused.
'Why? Want some company?' Sam asked.
'No,' Dean answered quickly.
'Okay,' Sam smiled disbelieving and went back into the kitchen 'We should get into your rehab exercises after this.'
'No need I've already done them,' Dean stated.
'What?' Sam gaped and came back around the corner.
'I did them when I woke up,' Dean shrugged.
'Dean, you're only allowed to do the exercises under qualified supervision,' Sam reminded him.
'Dude it was no big deal, it went fine, no dramas,' Dean lied.
'That's not the point! Look, you can lock yourself in our room, do whatever the hell you want and pretend I don't exist if that's what you want. But when it comes to your health I'm adamant! You won't do those exercises without me again!' Sam yelled.
'I don't fucking need a babysitter,' Dean argued.
'Tough shit!' Sam spat and walked off.
He came back and dumped some books on the table next to him.
'Here, I found these last night. Look at them or don't look at them, whatever!' Sam growled and stormed off again.
Dean sneered and dug into his bacon. He recognised the books as the ones Sam was working on last night…or this morning. Dean grabbed one and opened it. There were photos inside, Dean checked all of them. They were all packed with photos, dates and places written underneath them. All arranged in chronological order. Sam lied he hadn't just found these. He had been up all night making these for him. Dean felt the tiniest little bit like a jerk, but not enough to let up on his exercises. One lecture isn't going to make Dean roll over and play nice.
Sam watched carefully as two baby boys stared up at him with wide eyes and followed the movements on his finger. He dropped his hand and they both blinked.
'They seem fine,' Sam told Sarah and Andy who were at the dinner table nursing coffees.
'That's what the paediatrician said,' Andy remarked and Sarah hit his arm.
'I think it's lovely that Sam's concerned for us,' She stated.
'Well yeah, but he's got his own baby to take care of,' Andy replied and Sarah hit him again 'Ow!'
'Dean is not a baby! He's very sick,' she scorned.
'Sarah, what kind of adult do you know that locks himself up in his room and won't come out?' Andy pointed out.
'One that's terrified in a world he doesn't recognise you insensitive ass,' she argued.
'Wench,' he came back and dodged her next attack 'Ha!'
'Now who's the child,' she rolled her eyes at her husband.
'So how is the baby going mate?' Andy asked.
'The recuperation hard, sometimes I want to wrap my arms around and other times I want to wrap my hands around his neck,' Sam confessed.
'That's not recuperation dude that's marriage,' Andy argued and didn't manage to dodge the punch his wife landed on his arm.
'Ow! Damn woman,' Andy growled 'You're lucky you're the mother of my children.'
'How are you two handling parenthood?' Sam intercepted.
'The hours of sleep I'm getting, or lack there of, are going to put me into a coma,' Andy stated.
'It's hard,' Sarah agreed.
'Is it clear which one's the evil one yet?' Sam asked jokingly.
'Please, that's an urban myth,' Sarah scoffed.
'Sarah, Sarah, Sarah has being around me and Anson taught you nothing?' Andy asked, stood and picked up Brady. Sam laughed and picked up Ben.
'Hey at least Anson didn't knock up their girlfriend's best friend in high school,' Sam added and then Ben spit up on Sam's face. Andy laughed so hard he nearly dropped Brady, whilst Sarah choked on her coffee. Sam glared at the giggling Ben.
'I'm going to call you Anson the second, little baby demon,' Sam growled.
Sam got home in one of Andy's shirts all freshly showered and smelling like baby. He went into the kitchen to grab a drink when he heard a scream of pure agony from the bedroom. Sam dropped the soft drink and ran to the bedroom. He pushed open the door and saw Dean sweating, shaking and flushed. His face scrunched up in pain. His leg was seising and he'd thrown up all over the carpet.
'Shit,' Sam cursed and ran over to him.
Dean had never felt pain like this. He couldn't escape it. He was crying and babbling. Make it stop, make it stop. Oh god Dean would do anything to make the pain go away. Make the pain go away. Make the pain go away! He felt bile rise in his throat and he felt the disgusting vomit pour out of his mouth. God it hurt. He couldn't breath he was throwing up too much. It stopped and Dean took a deep breath, his throat was sore, he was so hot and his leg hurt so much! He knew someone was there with him because they were doing something to his leg, he could feel it. Oh fuck! It hurt. They were whispering to him, telling him…something. FUCK! Dean sobbed. He felt like he was throwing up again but nothing was coming out of his mouth, he tried to bring something up but it wouldn't come. Suddenly the sharp pain was gone and Dean cried in relief. It still ached but the searing burn was gone. He felt arms wrap around him and a voice in his ear. He knew that voice, knows that voice. Sam. Sam's here. It's going to be okay now. Sam's here. Overbearing, protective, babysitter. Sam. He'll take care of him. Dean was still shivering. So hot. He felt sick again. Going to be sick.
The arms tightened around him and then he wasn't touching the group anymore. Sam was carrying him…somewhere. God it was so fuzzy. Why couldn't he see clearly, why was he dizzy? Why did it hurt? He felt cool tiles beneath him. They were in the bathroom. Dean felt the familiar feeling in the back of his throat then somehow he was looking into the toilet bowl, fowl smelling stuff in the bottom. He felt a hand, a warm hand run up and down his back. It was tender. It was nice. A soft voice was talking in his ear.
'It's okay…sick from exhaustion….be okay…pushed too hard…will go away…alright love…'s okay baby,' words, nice words in his ear and oh god!
Dean grasped the toilet and sobbed again as the gross stuff rose out of his throat. Dean didn't know how long it was, but he knew they'd been here a long time. And Sam was here too, Sam never felt him, not once. Always there, hugging him, running hands up and down his back. Sam moved him and then he was lying down on something soft. The bed. Sam went to leave. No! No Sam don't go. Sam's here. Sam's behind him. Arms holding him close from behind. Dean likes it. Likes this, it's warm, safe…familiar.
