Woah… How long has it been?! A massive apology, guys - blame school! But hopefully I can post away and you'll like what I've got in store for yee.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I do not own Supernatural, Sam or Dean. Not even a teeny tiny knife or weeny gun.
Lyrics are the amazing Within Temptation's "Memories". (So, not mine either.)
Thanks to: Everyone who has reviewed, added this to their alerts/favourites…I feel so honoured! Thank you!
~Suffered In Silence ~
-A Plea-
In this world you tried…
Not leaving me alone behind
There's no other way…
I'll pray to the gods: let him stay
The only noise is a faint tick tock, tick tock. Yet to Dean it's similar to the sound of a thunderous drum, and it's killing his head.
Eyes anxiously flicker back to the unconscious Winchester lying on another crappy motel bed.
Tick…Tock…Tick…Tock…
It has been nearly half an hour since one Samuel Winchester keeled over out on the street. Dean thought everything was okay after Sam opened his eyes there, but after trying to get him up -
"Come on Sammy, get up…" Dean tries to help his younger brother up, but Sam moans. Hands cradle his head.
"…'Ean…Head…Hurts…"
"I know, you dumbass!" Worry strains his voice, making it crack. "Once you get into the motel, you can lie down and be all sissy. Until then- Sam?" Catches sight of a pale face.
"My…Head…" Mumbles.
Slump.
"Oh no you don't, Sam! Get off your ass!" Dean sees the eyes are closed and sighs. Runs a hand through his hair.
He's forced to actually carry his brother once more. Who's nothing but a feather-weight now.
And so Dean had had to carry Sam back into the motel room. Luckily no one thought it seemed strange.
Probably think we're gay again -
The thought almost makes him chuckle.
Almost. He's too worried to be merry.
Tick…tock…tick…tock…
"Sammy…Why do you have to do this to me?" A broken whisper said straight from a broken heart.
Tick…tock… Suddenly the clock is drowned out by a -
Rustle - there's a stir from the bed.
Dean turns his head so quickly he can hear his neck creak.
Hazel eyes blearily open. Sam takes in the bed, the room… His eyes look to Dean. They're full of confusion.
"Wha'…?"
He tries again, both to talk and to ignore the pounding headache from Hell. "Wha' 'appened Dean?"
Sam waking up is always an opportunity for an intelligent conversation.
A snort, and Dean extracts himself from the chair and crouches beside Sam.
He hasn't left the bedside for twenty minutes.
"Dean…?" A timid whisper. Sam looks at him. "What happened…?"
Dean sighs, partly from relief, but mostly from exhaustion - constantly worrying is the equivalent of no sleep as far as he is concerned.
"You fainted, dude." He offers as an explanation.
"I did?" Sam edges himself upwards to look at his brother.
"Yeah."
"Oh." Lets his head fall back on the pillow, the fight to sit up abandoned.
This brief exchange makes Dean out as terse, but he's worried and about to break. What is wrong with his little brother?
There's only one way to find out - the absolute last resort. Only used in times of dire need, but hell, this is one of those times.
He clears his throat. The clock's tick-tocking seems to grow in the background.
"Uh, Sam?"
A faint mumble is heard from the pillow -
Talk about actual 'pillow talk' -
And Dean takes that as an acknowledgement and ploughs ahead, "Look, I think you're sick. Very sick, okay? And no, you can't interrupt me."
Steely green eyes meet exasperated hazel ones. Sam mutinously shuts his mouth.
"You're not 'fine', Sam. Maybe you should go to hospital -"
"Dean, I'm not -"
"You should go to hospital…" Dean ignores his brother. "Just for a check-up…Please…?" Last word thrown in as a plea.
As a desperate plea.
Silence. The clock screams in the background.
"No…" Softly spoken, and Sam retreats under the bed sheets.
Dean stands still, feeling his world shatter at his feet.
Tick…tock…
The hour strikes. To Dean, it feels as if time is up.