Dean dropped the phone, not caring or knowing where it landed. He leaned forward and tilted his head to peer out the windshield. He didn't care how many threats Sam issued or the tone in which he delivered them; he needed to find a safe spot to pull off the road. The berm was unacceptable. He patted the dashboard, he'd find a place to park until Sir Sam arrived to retrieve him or he'd keep driving until he did. Oh, to the left….yeah, the dirt parking lot of that closed-for-the-night repair shop would suffice.
He hoped Sam would be quick about coming to get him; he frowned, Sam was coming to get him? What the hell sense did that make? Come and get him, what was he, three years old? He didn't know why Sam insisted on doing so or how he was going to succeed but Dean kinda, sorta, hadda admit…he was okay with that.
He briefly considered blowing Sam off and ignore his command but yeah…..no, not yet. He couldn't find the motel on his own and he wanted to lie down, preferably in a bed and if Sam could help him accomplish that he'd wait for him because he really didn't think he'd be able to find one on his own.
Course, after the ER, losing Dean and dealing with Garth, Dean doubted Sam was doing so good himself. He'd been upset when Dean had left him at home and taken off with Garth. Upset and disappointed that Dean was so eager to go hunting. Now? Now he was pissed. He'd been tired and weak before Dean had left…dizzy with little appetite, but lo and behold, here he was, all piss and vinegar with a head full of hot steam.
Dean put the car in park, pulled the keys from the ignition and slid from behind the wheel across the seat. His intent was to simply tumble over into the back seat but the chorus from his various limbs and joints and muscles convinced him that was a bad idea. Once his head won the skirmish against his stomach, he climbed from the passenger seat, opened the back door and crawled in, door swinging shut behind him on its own. There was the love and comfort from his girl, tucking him in all safe and secure on her own.
Oh God, nausea? Truly? From pain? Shit, never a good thing!
He sat for a moment, searching for a bottle that contained water from amidst the motley collection of empty bottles, take-out containers, packages of cookies and cupcakes…..couple of Sam's books, some magazines….he choked at the stench from a balled-up wad of foil…..he really needed to clean out the car. Oh look, a shoe, a sneaker, neither with a mate, couple coats, shirts…..hey, a pillow and there…..what the…?
He gingerly poked at a mass of….huh…..didn't remember that but Sam'd had the car for a couple of days while Dean had spent the time with a willing….and ooooh, it was soft. He leaned forward to bury his face in the soft fleece and toppled sideways, shudda brought it to his face. It smelled nice, like….well it smelled good anyway. So, pillow, this fleece thingee…no need to sit up. Water forgotten, he tucked his feet on the seat against the opposite door and was snoring before he'd properly identified the fleece was a blanket.
***000***
Garth whooshed into the motel room, grabbed Dean's laptop and booted it up. He tapped his fingers impatiently, ordering the computer to load faster as he fidgeted, keeping an eye cast towards the door. He didn't expect Sam to come in after him but one never dared turn their back on him. The younger Winchester brother was at best, unpredictable, and at worst, volatile. Garth thought he knew the Winchesters but he'd had no idea Sam was violently protective when it came to his brother.
"Finally!" he quickly loaded Google Latitude then opened a second window to pull up a map of the area….God, let this be easy. Armed with the information that pin-pointed Dean's location, he raced from the room.
Sam was unexpectedly sleeping in the passenger seat, head resting against the windows.
"Sam?" Garth jumped into the car, put it in gear and pulled out. "Got him. Guessin' he listened to you 'cause he ain't moving."
"He hadn't better be." Sam murmured. "If he is….I won't feed him for a week." their last argument bounced around his head. He kept going over it…he hated being at odds with his brother.
"Dean….I'm not kidding! Garth?! I mean….what the hell? Seriously, what the fuck?"
"What am I supposed to do? You don't want my help. You won't let me take care of you. You can only kick me in the teeth so many times before I give up Sam. I'm not going to sit around all day while you pout and get all pissy at me. I'm going to do what I do best…..hunt."
"But….with Garth? You aren't going hunting with Garth!"
"Would you rather I go alone?"
"I rather you didn't go at all!"
"Uh…..hey, you ok Sam?"
Not really, Sam thought, pressing his cheek against the cold glass. He was tired. He was always tired. So tired, he never had any energy and lacked the desire to do much of anything. Frantic panic and terror left him short of breath and with such a pain in his chest he rubbed his hand over his heart as if doing so would relieve it.
It didn't.
"I looked the location up on a map." Garth set the laptop on Sam's lap when he got no reply to his question. They'd lose the internet connection once they left the motel parking lot but the picture of the map would remain. "He's headed out of town…..nowhere near the motel."
"Didn't expect him to be." Sam sighed, lifting his head. "Cause he's Dean and he's an ass and he's stupid and he doesn't respond well to some medications and when I find him…." he trailed off, staring out the window, emotions and feelings in turmoil.
And when I find him, I'm gonna throttle him until he requires a dentist; shake him until he needs the painkillers the doctor undoubtedly sent him home with, kick his ass 'til he can't sit down. He licked his lip, grinding his teeth as thoughts continued to race and tumble about in his head. I'm gonna pull him outta the Impala by his ear and smack him upside his head until his nose bleeds. I'm gonna shake him until his eyes roll and his tongue hangs outta his mouth. I'm …. he's hurt and he's in pain and he's dealing with it alone and that's my fault 'cause I never should have let him leave with you so I'm gonna hug him and hold tight and reassure myself he's alive and whole, and only slightly damaged…I'm gonna….
"….talisman…." Garth was saying.
"Huh? Yeah….yeah…we got time." Sam replied absently, checking street names off until they passed the last one and drove along a tree-lined two-way back road. Where the hell had Dean thought he was going? Camping? They were sooo going to have a talk and set some new rules. Sam couldn't keep doing this…..this waiting and not knowing and never guessing correctly…
"That it?" Garth slowed, signaled and eased the car across the oncoming lane and came to a stop behind the Impala.
Sam had his door open and was out of the car before Garth had come to a full and complete stop. He was scolding Sam about the dangers of leaping from moving vehicles but he was talking to an empty seat and a cold breeze; Sam hadn't remained to hear a word, leaving the door open. "….unsafe, dangerous and stupid." Garth finished. "Righto, guess you know all that." evening had fallen and Garth didn't see the silhouette of a person in the car. "Oh no."
Sam rounded the Impala's trunk and came up along the driver's side, flashlight in hand. His heart lurched, throat thickening when the beam of light revealed an empty front seat. No Dean. He gasped for breath, heart thudding as panic overwhelmed him.
"DEAN!" he shouted over the roof of the car. "DEAN!" he walked completely around, then ran around the car then lapped the car again. He threw himself flat to his belly and stuck his head under it. "DEAN!" he shone the flashlight under the car then got to his feet. "DEAN!" did the backseat just move? "DEAN?"
Garth was slowly climbing from his car, flashlight in one hand, shotgun in the other. He was trying to determine the best way to approach the Impala and Sam when Sam yanked the back door open and disappeared, head and shoulders within, ass sticking out. Garth jumped at the yelp, followed by thumps and bumps and crackling and grunts and groans from the car. He raised his shot-gun, ready to take aim and fire upon whatever hissing, spitting creature Sam pulled from the depths of the back seat.
"WAA-AAHH!" Dean attempted to keep hold of his soft, warm, sweet-smelling blanket, tried to keep himself from being dragged from the car, tried to free himself from the iron arms that crushed him until he couldn't breathe and fought to maintain his balance when he was released and his legs became rubber with no knees.
Garth relaxed when Dean became recognizable and it appeared Sam had the situation under control but remained by the car..
"OW!" Dean whined, swaying. Hands with a grip that would leave more bruises grabbed his biceps then immediately let go when he howled, hopping in agony until he fell against the car and began a slow descent to his ass. "Sam..don't." he hissed through clenched teeth. "Dude, stop. Mmm…..ouch…ow..ow,ow,ow…OW Sam….what part of OW don't you get?! Let go!"
Sam stopped his descent before his ass hit the dirt and hauled Dean to his feet, propping him up against the car and holding him there with one hand against his shoulder. "What the hell DEAN?!" Sam exploded. "Seriously man, what the hell?!"
"ME?! What'd I do?" bewildered, Dean looked around for whatever might have sent Sam over the edge this time. "Remove your hand…" Dean grimaced through the pain, teeth gritted. "Or…"
"Or what? Huh? What are you going to do Dean?" Sam demanded, squeezing harder than he intended with his hand.
"Pass...out." he whispered. "Let..go."
"What the fuck were you doing in the backseat?" Sam ignored his brother's demand, or maybe it was a plea. "Jesus Christ Dean, you're gonna be the end of me, you know that? What are you trying to do to me?"
"You told me….Ow Sam….stop!" tears of pain pricked his eyes. "Stop!"
"You gonna stop trying to sit down?" Sam snapped.
"I'm gonna pass out, you don't get your hand off my shoulder." came the growled retort.
Sam's eyes traveled the length of his arm to where his hand pressed firmly against Dean's shoulder…his left shoulder.
"Oh God. Sorry, I'm sorry." he relaxed his grip but didn't release his hold. Previously punishing, the grip was now comforting. "You ok?"
"NO!" Dean snarled, right arm reaching to hold his shoulder, left arm one with his side. Pain made him ill, nausea made him reel and all at once, every bruise, scratch, scrape and itch attacked him simultaneously. "Lemme down."
"Dean?"
"Goin' down." he said thickly.
"What? No, no..no..no…don't you dare….Oh, okay, ok….I gotcha…..sit….." Sam grabbed his brother's shoulders, jumped at the strangled moan and moved his hands to Dean's elbows only to receive a choked groan. "Sorry…..sorry…oops…duck your head…..Dean, hey, duck. Frame isn't going to give." he settled for easing an unresisting Dean's descent by guiding him down with a gentle hold on his right shoulder and elbow. "Wanna lie down? Dean, hey….don't ignore me…." he eyed the cozy nest Dean had cocooned himself in.
Dean was muttering, protesting, whining….bitching…..asking why Sam wasn't wearing shoes.
"What?" he listened to Dean complain that he should have been left in the car to begin with, with a grin. "Yeah….sorry dude…you good?" he got Dean down onto his back without eliciting tears and blew his breath out in relief. "Pull your feet in…..right….okay, now stay put."
Sam backed out and closed the door. Garth stood by his car while Sam retrieved the laptop. He attempted several times to speak but couldn't think of any words to say. Sam didn't even look his way and got into the Impala, shutting the door in Garth's face.
"Dean…hey…..no, no, don't get up…just tell me where the keys are." Sam sat behind the wheel and searched for the keys. "Dean, I need the keys."
"I….uh….ign….." he tried to think. "Maybe."
"You know Dean, if they were in the ignition I would have seen them." Sam sniped tersely. "You….."
"Then…look…." Dean flared. "I…..don't…..just look….."
Sam sat and stared straight out the windshield while he counted to ten, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles shone white in the dim light. He turned to yak at Dean over his shoulder but the sight of his brother, so pale and wan, forehead and lip heavy with sweat despite the cold air drove his snappy retort to the pit of his belly.
"Okay….right…" they had to be somewhere, Dean had driven the car to where they were, so….."Got 'em." he pulled out, leaving Garth staring after him.
"Okay, yeah….no, that's okay guys. I'll follow you back to the motel….say, he's ok, isn't he?" Garth shook his head, tossed his gun into the car and hopped in. "Hey! Wait for me."
Sam headed to his motel, gathered the few items he'd left in the room, checked out and returned to the Budget Best Inn. As Sam pulled into the motel parking lot, Dean emerged from his nest. After several failed attempts, he sat up but wasn't to the point where he could speak coherently. Sam couldn't decide if he were seething, plotting revenge or in too much pain to care about anything.
"Stay in the car." Sam ordered as Dean reached for the door handle. He put the car and park and let it idle. Garth pulled into a spot next to them.
"Don't wanna." Dean panted as he extended one foot out the door. His toes never touched the pavement, his exit blocked by a wall of brother Sam.
"We aren't staying." tired and disoriented, though not in the amount of pain Dean was, Sam was uncomfortable and sore and wanted to sleep the clock around, but….. "Stay, I'll be right back." he also wanted this town behind him.
"Dude!" Garth called after Sam who ignored him and entered the motel room. "Dean? You ok, man? Need a hand ? I gotta tell you, you never once warned me about his violent nature, you know?"
"Leave him alone Garth!" Sam yelled from the open door of the motel room.
"Yeah, but ok." Garth gave Dean a sympathetic grin. "You sure you wanna stay with him? He, uh, he's not in a very good mood."
"Goin' home." Dean rubbed his eyes.
"Back to Kansas? Dude, really, that's like an eight or nine-hour drive. You ain't up to it."
"You tell him that." Dean yawned. He patted his pocket. He wanted some pain meds. "Any water?"
"Garth!" Sam's annoyed voice floated from the motel room. "Get away from him."
"Good luck." Garth grinned at Dean, handing him a bottle of water. "You good…"
"What are you giving him?" Sam popped the trunk and added their duffels. "Dean, what are you taking?"
"Huh….dunno…something they gave me….." he fingered the package he'd taken from his pocket. "Samples, she said…'less you got…..my….'scription filled?"
Right, like there'd been time, at this time of night, in a strange town…. "I don't like you taking shit I haven't…"
"Bugger off Sammy." he used his teeth to tear open the package and swallowed the two pills before Sam could smack them from his hand. He smirked at the look his brother nailed him with and laid down. Nine hours, huh? No medication was going to hold him that long.
***000***
At first, Dean attributed his discontent and unease to Sam's erratic driving that consisted of; speed up, slow down, speed up, swerve, hit the brake, speed up and repeat. He'd yet to maintain speed, was overly fond of the brake and didn't account for the water lying in undetected puddles along the road. The weather was crap, rain heavy with wind strong enough to buffet the car. Dean felt like he was on a carnival ride and he wanted his misery to come to an end.
"How much further?" he asked quietly, squirming on the back seat in an attempt to find a comfortable position.
"Dunno." Sam said absently. "Four, maybe five hours."
Dean didn't comment, rousing to peer out the back windshield.
"What?' Sam asked, casting him a glance, unwilling to completely remove his eyes from the road. "Dean?"
"Can we stop?" he asked reluctantly. He wasn't going to make it.
"Aah, sure…..you….will a tree do?" Sam asked. "I'll try to find an over pass so you won't get wet."
"Huh? No…I need….no."
Well, Sam thought, Dean'd been huffing and sighing and squirming for the last hour. Perhaps the pain meds weren't sitting well on an empty stomach. "You hungry?"
"God no."
"But you gotta stop?"
"What?" Dean asked crossly. "No…..I don't need…for the night Sam, can we stop for the night?"
Road, weather and steering were forgotten as Sam turned his complete attention to his brother.
"Eyes on the road!" Dean chanted. "EYES ON THE ROAD!"
Sam pulled off the road but instead of berating his brother, he pulled his cell from his pocket and began a search for the closest motel. Garth pulled up behind them but remained in his car.
"Can you hang on for a while longer?" Sam asked quietly. "Fourteen miles or so…..Dean…hey? I can't do much for you here in the car 'less you want to take some ibuprofen or…"
"I'm good…."
Fourteen miles turned into thirty-four and over an hour in the car; detour due to flooding. The motel had no vacancy and the next closest one was fifty miles ahead or thirty behind, weather permitting. Sam looked out the window to the Impala, Dean hadn't gotten out to come into the office with him.
"Is there a town?" Sam asked tiredly. He looked around the motel, and attached gas station mini-mart without much hope of receiving an affirmative answer.
"Sorry, not a tourist route, you know? Fishing….oh hey, maybe Crazy Caine has a fishing cabin out by the lake for rent, you want I should ring him up and ask?"
Sam was capable of murder with his bare hands, he'd done it before. He was capable of killing anyone who stood in the way of his brother's comfort and safety. "Yeah." Sam bit out. "You call up ole Crazy Caine." and I won't put your head through that double-paned glass window and see what breaks first, your head or the glass. "Thanks." he managed.
The cabin was ten miles up a mud-slicked lane into the hills of wherever the fuck they were. The Impala fishtailed and spun a tire a time or two through a puddle that was deeper than Sam probably should have attempted to drive through and had they been in any other car, they never would have made it. He sighed and eased the car to a stop. Good ole Goofy-goof-ball Garth had gamely followed them since leaving Lemay. He hadn't attempted to call Sam, Dean's cell given up as lost, nor had he tried to approach Sam at the motel to question what they were doing. He just followed along behind and he didn't possess a car whose loyalty Dean swore saved his life since before he'd been born.
Sam was tempted to leave him behind but the dumb quack would more than likely try to hike the remaining distance on foot. He eased the car into reverse and began to back-up until he came upon Garth's car in a ditch. There was no use attempting to push or pull him out, nothing to do except accept Garth's presence in the front seat next to him and drive on. Garth had the wise sense not to say a word, not even make a sound and finally at last…. the cabin.
Sam pulled as close to the door as he could get and shut the car down. "Dean, you good?"
"Heh." he climbed from the car, fleece trailing behind him and waited at the door. Sam locked up the car, retrieved the laptop and used the key from the motel clerk to enter the cabin, Dean on his heels.
It was a fishing shack, not a vacation cabin for a family. One large room contained a fireplace, sofa, coffee table, two arm chairs, sink, couple cupboards and a table with four chairs as the living area; a double bed in the corner and a door that led to a small room with a set of bunk beds. Another door led to a bathroom. Bare minimum but at least they were sheltered against the weather in warmth and comfort.
"What'r'you doin' here?" Dean sat down on the sofa, attempted to toe his well-tied boots off, gave up with a grunt and went down on his right side, pulling the fleece across his shoulder. Nurse sure could lace a boot tight. "Here…in town….and not home." he wiggled. "Where….I left you."
"Sure." Sam agreed. The bed was calling his name. "Later, ok?"
"Yum-hum." a knock on the door pulled his attention back from the brink of oblivion. Before he could make a move for a weapon, Sam laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Guys, guys, hey it's me. Let me in." knock, knock, knock. "Sam? Dean?" knock, knock, knock. "Hey, it's Garth…remember me? Say, it's cold out here, how about letting me in? We gottta talk, you know…Dean….that spirit.."
Sam rolled his eyes and gave Dean a look, 'he's your problem'.
Dean returned a look that said, 'what do you want me to do about it'?
To which, Sam non-verbally replied, 'it's your fault he's here'.
And Dean answered, 'deal with it'.
The door opened, a bag dropped at Garth's feet and the door closed in his face. "Uh, guys? Hey, what's this about? Guys? Guys? Oh, okay then, sure, we'll talk in the morning. I'll just, uh…sleep in your car." Garth shook his head, deciding it wise not to push Sam any further.
The door opened a second time and Sam stood aside to let him in, Dean's shrieked protest over leaving someone alone in his car more than Sam could deal with. "Find a bunk and don't let me see your face again." he pointed to the door across the room. "And I don't wanna hear from you either."