Title: somewhere a clock is ticking [4/?]
Author: alakewood
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG
Word count: ~780
Summary: The ride back from the hospital is quiet and tense; Dean sees that the physical effects of what going on with Sam are more than just headaches and dizzy spells.
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.

oxoxo

Sam didn't say a single word during the whole drive back from the hospital – maintained his silence even when Dean asked him direct questions. "So what did the doctor say? Do they know what it is?" Dean had tried to stay calm, but when Sam climbed out of the car and started for the house without even looking at him...that was it. "Goddammit, Sam! Can't you talk to me?"

"I'm tired, Dean. I'm just gonna go to bed."

It was still early evening and the sun hadn't quite begun to set, but there wasn't much for Dean to say. Even if there was, it'd be a one-sided conversation. So he followed Sam in after a few minutes and headed straight for the fridge and grabbed himself a beer. He paused in the kitchen, listening for any sound of movement from his brother upstairs, but the house was quiet. He took his beer and went out to the porch to get away from the oppressive humidity inside the house. Sitting at the top of the stairs as he and Sam had done the previous Saturday night as well, he made a mental note to install a swing or something, then his thoughts drifted back to Sam.

Drifted back to the deal that he'd made to bring his brother back from the dead. The crossroads demon said that Sam would be okay as long as Dean didn't try to get out of the deal and he hadn't. But Sam didn't seem okay. He'd been having the headaches for over a month, and now the dizzy spells and the bloody nose.

He finished his beer as the sun started to set and returned to the kitchen for another. He quickly threw together a couple of sandwiches and poured a glass of water for Sam then headed upstairs to feed his brother. Halfway up the stairs, though, he heard the distinct sound of retching. He rushed into the bathroom to find Sam clutching the bowl of the toilet, vomiting up nothing but liquid. "Sam? Hey." He set the sandwich and glass of water on the counter. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, he gently rubbed Sam's back, trying to force away his anxious terror at being kept in the dark about what was going on. "It's okay. You'll be okay," he whispered.

Sam spit a couple of times and leaned back on his knees to sit on his heels, resting his forehead against his arm as he took slow, deep breaths. Dean reached over Sam's head for the glass of water and handed it to his brother wordlessly. "Thanks," Sam said quietly.

"You're probably not gonna want to eat that sandwich, huh?"

"Not really."

"Maybe soup? Crackers?"

"This'll be fine for now," he said, holding up his glass.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." He pushed himself up off the floor, once again slightly wobbly on his feet.

Dean caught him by his bent elbow, surprised by the sharpness of the jut of bone. He knew that Sam hadn't exactly been exerting himself recently but the lack of muscle definition and the prominence of the bones beneath his skin seemed almost sudden. The extent of Sam's thinness was revealed as he pulled off his sweat-damp t-shirt and Dean could clearly see the ridges of Sam's spine and the shadowed gaps between his ribs. The hard edges disappeared in the dim lights of Sam's bedroom and were completely hidden from view when he pulled on another t-shirt. Dean reached out when Sam's back was turned on him, grasping his shoulder, wanting to feel for certain what his eyes didn't want to believe. The shape of Sam's scapula obvious beneath his palm, the fine curve of collar bone under his fingertips. Sam slouched under the weight of Dean's hand. "What's going on, Sam? Talk to me. Please?" Dean begged.

Sam slowly faced his brother, the dark circles under his eyes looking more like bruises under the slight shadow cast by his eyelashes. He shrugged a shoulder. "They don't know yet. They, um...did a few blood tests. I'll know the results within a week."

"That's it? That's all they did? Blood work?"

"There's not much else they could do, Dean."

"X-rays, MRI's, CAT scans?"

"Those things aren't free, Dean."

"We'll get insurance, then. Really good insurance. You're gonna be okay, Sam."

Sam's eyes looked haunted when his gaze finally rose to meet Dean's. "Yeah."

Dean abruptly pulled his younger brother down to his chest in a hug and clung to him tightly. "You're gonna be okay, Sam," he repeated. "I'll make sure of it."