I'm off to school, which is why this update is so early in the morning (at least here it is) so leave me lots of reviews to look forward to when I get back! Seriously though, you guys are awesome!
Beta: Little Miss Artist
Warnings: See chapter 1
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Word Count: 2300
Chapter: 7/21
Next Update: Friday
Textus
Chapter 7: Epistaxis*
Even though Sam hurt badly, lying on the grass in the rain wouldn't solve anything. He needed to get back, especially before Dean got home.
Slowly he pushed himself up into a sitting position. A spark of pain flared in his chest causing him to groan.
"Get up," he told himself firmly in his John Winchester voice. Using every ounce of will power he had, he got to his feet.
He stumbled forward for the first few steps but eventually managed to get one foot in front of the other properly.,the thought of rest on a soft bed the only thing keeping him going.
So many emotions ran through Sam that he was having trouble keeping them all straight. He was angry at Mike above all else, but also pissed at himself for letting Mike get the upper hand in the fight. John Winchester would hang his head in shame if he ever found out his own son hadn't been able to hold his own in a fight against humans. And Dean…Dean…What would Dean think? Would he be ashamed? Or just happy Sam managed to get a few hits in of his own and came out relatively safe? Maybe he'd be torn. Maybe his protective instinct would be warring with the hunting soldier side of him. He'd no doubt want to tear Mike's head off, that was for sure.
Sam nearly cried out in joy when the house finally came into view. The hill, however small, had been bad and hard to climb. Sam nearly had to resort to crawling to make it all the way there.
After depositing his bag in a heap by the door, he made his way towards the hall way. His eyes flickered over to the comfortable looking couch. He didn't have any injuries that were life threatening, so maybe it wouldn't hurt if he took a quick little nap before doing first aid…besides, he was so tired. And not just average tired, bone weary exhaustion that seemed to seep from every inch of his body.
Sam changed his course mid way and headed for the couch. It wasn't like it was really that bad, mostly just bruising and maybe a cracked rib as well as a sprained wrist. Nothing that would kill him in his sleep. He just had to make sure to be awake before Dean got home, just so he had a little time to straighten up and didn't look like he decided to nap in the mud on the way home.
Slowly, Sam lowered his aching body down onto the old blue couch that never looked more comfortable. His eyes drifted closed almost instantly, promising himself only a few minutes, no more...
"Holy shit!"
Sam jerked awake, nearly falling off the couch in the process.
"Whoa, Sam, stay still!" Dean said, sounding worried. Sam had the sudden irrational thought that there was a snake nearby, looking ready to strike. Dean certainly looked like he was just bit by one.
Dean dashed into the kitchen and came back carrying a few paper towels in one arm and the rest of the roll in the other. In a flash he was by Sam's side.
"Holy shit, Sammy, what happened?" Sam's, addled with sleep and pain, couldn't for the life of him figure out what was going on.
"Wha-" he said uncertainly. Dean didn't even spare him a glance as he was apparently entirely focused on Sam's chest. For a second Sam wondered if maybe there really was a snake on his chest. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over just in case.
He nearly screamed in shock.
There wasn't a snake on his chest, but that was where the good news ended. The entire front of his slightly muddy shirt was soaked in blood as well as staining the couch.
"Jesus, Sammy, Jesus! What happened?" Sam didn't know how to answer. Not that he could answer if he wanted to. No, he was too busy trying to stomp down on his own panic. Where had it come from? He hadn't thought any of his injuries were bleeding. He ran through the list in his head and was unable to produce a single injury that should be bleeding like that. So what was bleeding?
Dean was clearly thinking along the same lines, though he was unaware of the extent of Sam's injuries. Holding a paper towel in his hand, Dean began to pat down Sam's chest, both looking for the sight of injury as well as mopping up some of the bloody mess. Without knowing it, he pressed down on Sam's cracked rib. The onslaught of pain was so hard and so unexpected, Sam couldn't contain the small scream that rose to his lips.
Dean jerked back like he'd been electrocuted and whipped around to look at Sam's face. Emotions slid on and off Dean's face so fast Sam only managed to recognize shock and relief followed by the final emotion, something between irritation and anger.
"Fuck, Sammy, you could have just told me it was a damn bloody nose. And what are you thinking? You know you're not supposed to lay like that with a bloody nose, it only aggravates the problem!" Dean said very quickly.
Sam sat there stunned for a moment before slowly raising a hand to his nose. Sure enough there was a warm liquid flowing out of it and sliding down his chin.
Dean seemed to recover from whatever emotion was holding him hostage and realize that, bloody nose or not, Sam was still hurt.
Dean ripped off another paper towel and pressed it to Sam's nose.
"Hold that there," he silently commanded. Sam pinched his nose through the paper towel. Dean slid his hand around to the back of Sam's neck as Sam tipped his head back.
"So what did happen?" Dean asked.
"Dunno," Sam said nasally as his nose was plugged. He was still asking himself the same question.
What had happened?
He did recall that one punch that hit him on the side of the nose and the faint notion that he might have a bloody nose that had come after. But after lying on the grass for a while, thinking of nothing and letting his mind just go blank to handle the pain, the bloody nose had gotten lost amongst more serious injuries.
"Really? So your nose just spontaneously started spurting blood did it?" Dean asked with the sarcasm laid on thick.
Sam was pretty sure his nose had stopped bleeding so he pulled the towel from it and looked at Dean, his face the perfect face of irritation – the "bitch face" as Dean called it.
"I don't know, Dean!" Sam snapped. He stood up quickly, determined to be alone for just a moment to figure things out. Dean stood up hastily when Sam swayed dangerously.
"Whoa, Sam, take it easy," Dean said, all trace of annoyance or anger gone. Now it was only concern for his younger brother.
"I'm gonna…I'm gonna go…" Sam trailed off. What he was going to do was go to the bathroom and take care of the rest of his injuries, but he wasn't going to tell Dean that. Dean couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in slightly humor as he watched Sam stumbled over his words.
"I'm gonna go clean up," Sam finally finished. Stumbling slightly, he made his way over to the bathroom. The blood loss gave him a headache and made him dizzy causing him to weave slightly on his way. I must look drunk, he told himself, snickering on the inside.
Once inside the bathroom, he shut and locked the door then collapsed against it. He took a few deep breaths, trying to get everything sorted out. It had all happened so fast, one minute he was laying down to rest, promising himself no more than five minutes, and next thing he know Dean's freaking out, which freaked Sam out, and he's covered in blood. Sam briefly wondered if his nose hadn't actually been bleeding that hard, but had just been bleeding for a while since nothing had been done to stop it and lying with his head tilted forward would have only made it worse. If it had been bleeding since that punch then that certainly seemed like a logical explanation.
He went over to the sink and looked at his refection in the mirror. Sam jumped back in shock. Did he really look like that? No wonder Dean had been so scared - Sam stopped himself right there. Dean? Scared? No. It didn't happen. Though he did look quite frightened…but only until he realized Sam wasn't on the verge of dying of blood loss.
Sam's skin was so pale it looked translucent. His eyes looked sunken and there were slight circles under his eyes. Sam's hair was still wet from the rain and was plastered to his head making him look sick with fever. His mouth and chin were covered in dried blood which had ran down his neck onto his shirt.
Overall he looked like an extra from a zombie horror movie.
Sam mentally went over all his injuries and the order in which he'd take care of them.
Ribs. Wrist. Head. Ribs. Wrist. Head.
He repeated the list over and over in his head to make sure he didn't forget anything, not that he could with the pain.
First up: ribs.
He bent down carefully and grabbed the red first aid kit under the sink. He smirked slightly when he caught sight of a bottle of Jack Daniels sitting next to it. Whiskey: the Winchester cure to all problems, emotional and physical.
Sam gently grabbed onto the bottom of his t-shirt and began to pull it over his head. He didn't even get his arms above shoulder level before his rib cage flared up in pain. Quickly thinking of a plan B, Sam grabbed the scissors from the bottom level of the plastic box. Working quickly, lest Dean get suspicious, he snipped the shirt off. Not like it mattered anyway, the shirt was so stained with filth and blood, it'd never come clean.
Sam cringed slightly. His torso looked almost worse than the rest of him. Several different spots were mottled blue and black and slightly tinged with yellow. From the first aid kit, Sam produced a small tube of cream that helped reduce swelling and discoloration. He gently rubbed it over the worst looking spots on his chest; to cover them all would use the whole tube.
Unrolling some bandages, Sam slowly began to wrap his ribs. It didn't hurt as much as it usually would as he only had cracked one as opposed to the usual multiple broken ribs the Winchesters' always seemed to attain. Once the bandage was tight and secure, Sam moved on to the next item on the injury list: wrist. That one would be harder to hide. For the night, he'd probably be able to hide it by claiming exhaustion and slipping off to his own room, but come tomorrow…he'd have to face Dean and an ACE bandage wasn't exactly inconspicuous, especially on an area he used as much as his wrist.
Well he'd deal with that battle when it came. For now he had to focus on slipping past Dean's injured little brother radar which always seemed to inform Dean when Sam was hurt worse than he was letting on.
Sam held up his wrist for inspection. Thankfully it was his left wrist or he'd be totally screwed. Carefully, Sam wrapped the tan, stretchy bandage around his wrist, which proved to be more difficult than expected with only one hand.
Once that was done Sam moved onto the last item on his injury list: his head - both his headache and his bruised and bloody nose. Sam gently wet a washcloth with warm water and began to tenderly dab at the blood on his face and neck, relishing in the feeling of the warm water against his face. He dabbed a little of the bruise cream on the purple spot along the side of his nose.
As a final touch Sam popped a few aspirin and cleaned up the bathroom, tossing the ruined shirt. Then he realized he didn't have another shirt and if he went out without one Dean would see the white bandage wrapped around his chest.
As expected, Dean appeared right outside the door the second it opened. Sam didn't emerge fully, instead poking only his head out.
"What took so long?" Dean asked suspiciously.
"Sorry, I was just enjoying the warm water. Can you grab me a shirt, please?" Dean looked at him oddly, it wasn't like Dean hadn't seen him without a shirt before. "Please," Sam said, adding a tinge of sadness to his voice. As expected, Sam's misery made Dean forget any doubts he had and go to Sam's room. He returned a minute later with a large navy blue shirt that Sam had left on his bed that morning.
"Thanks," Sam said as he took the shirt and retreated back into the bathroom. Biting down hard to stop himself from crying out, Sam pulled the shirt on as quick as he could. Thankfully, Dean didn't open the door and waited for Sam to once again emerge. But once Sam did emerge, Dean was there like a moth to flame.
"Sam?" he asked immediately. He wanted to know what the hell was going on. Sam didn't blame him, it must seem very strange form his point of view.
"Please, Dean, not now. I'm absolutely exhausted. Just wait until morning okay? Please?" There must have been some true misery on his face because Dean caved.
"Fine, but don't think I won't bring it up in the morning." Sam nodded then headed into his room. Dean would hold true to his word, no doubt. It wasn't very late, but Sam was still incredibly tired and was in desperate need of a true rest.
As tired as he was, he still wasn't able to sleep two hours later. It was weird being tired but unable to sleep, like a real life oxymoron. It was probably all the crazy thoughts whirling through his head at that moment, but what was he supposed to do? The day had been crazy, plain and simple.
Sam wasn't sure what possessed him at that moment, but he slowly got to his feet and walked silently across the hall and into Dean's room. Dean's even and steady breathing instantly calming Sam as he slipped in.
Moonlight streamed in the window and fell across Dean in his bed. Dean was on his side, his arm hanging off the bed making it look like he was trying to hail a cab in his sleep.
TBC…
*Epistaxis is a technical term for nosebleed, hence the chapter title being what it is.
Review Replies:
supernaturalrenegade: Luci, hopefully you continue to feel that this just keeps getting better. I guess that whole fight, ignore, make-up thing must be a brother thing then. Lonely is such a hard emotion (and sometimes a physical hurt to) I hate those days when you wake up and it's like everything's working against you that day. I highly doubt I'll enjoy school, but I suppose it's possible.
LeighAnnWallace: Sam will tell Dean…just not before I have more fun with him. Writing the relationship between the brothers as teens is always fun because it can be done in so many different ways!
1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG: Yeah, Dean's not really one for drawn out apologies but it doesn't matter because him and Sam have that connection where you get what the other person's trying to say even without the words. I can't stand bullies either. I know you're not supposed to judge someone until you get to know them and all that but, really, I don't think anything condones that kind of behavior. Just because your life is rough doesn't mean you can make other people's lives rough too. I'll try not to make anything too drawn out as I agree that Dean would pester Sam for answers, however he might get a bit…distracted ;)
Sarah: Gotta love chick flick moments! It's kind of funny, even though Winchester's seem to try and avoid chick flick moments like the plague, you'd be hard pressed to find a single fanfic (at least a hurt/comfort one) that didn't have some type of chick flick moment.
Colby's girl: So Dean didn't see the bruises but saw something else. And Dean might get a bit side tracked for asking his little bro what happened *evil smirk*
judyann: You are lucky, that must have been really close! Our power kept going on and off forever! Even though we weren't flooded too much, our town got about 7 inches of rain. Thankfully it was spread out and not a sudden downpour or we'd be in a lot more trouble!I can't see Sam immediately accepting the apology, but at the same time I can't see him holding out too long so that's why I wrote it that way.
Sparkiebunny: I've been dying to use that line (you and me against the world) forever! And I finally found somewhere where I could stick it in so I'm glad you appreciated the sappiness! And Dean's far to manly to admit that he wanted his little bro by his side, but of course Dean wants his Sammy!
casammy: Yeah, we Sam girls are all twisted cause we love hurting Sam so much. The best part of the chick flick moment is you know Dean will only participate in one if he's really worried/upset. And I assure you that revenge will be taken, but not for a while.
Gord and V: Poor Sam is just not having a good day…or month rather. It's only going to get worse…
where the wind blows: enjoy your update :)
lilithakaducky: awww, so sweet! Thanks (now I"m blushing!)
