21
Since the dinner was now a bit more significant—both brothers did their part to tidy up. Dean did the kitchen—after Sam loaded and filled the sink for him. Took him forever to wash everything one handed, but he managed to finish without breaking anything.
Sam vacuumed the rest of the first floor, and then did his best to dust the surfaces,--which apparently hadn't been done for a considerable time. Once everything looked a little more presentable, he got started on preparing the meal.
Dean found some air freshener and sprayed it around liberally. The house air was somewhat stale—it smelled a little like dirty socks. He discreetly sniff-tested what he was wearing, worried it may have been him. It wasn't—but he did smell like coffee-- it reminded him that he should try to gather up their clothing and get it washed.
He crutched over to his room, changed his shirt-- and went around picking things up and gathering the laundry in a growing pile on the bed.
Sam hadn't heard him in a while.
"you ok, Dean--?"
He didn't answer.
Sam dried his hands and went to check on him. He found him asleep, sprawled across the bed--half buried by the pile he'd collected. The effort had clearly exhausted him.
He smiled to himself. Dean was trying—but he always had to find his limits the hard way. He shut the door quietly and let him sleep.
David came home at his expected time. He was agitated—talking a mile-a-minute. Sam poured him a beer and sat him down.
"Ok—David—what's going on?"
David explained everything he'd been ruminating over the last few days—and how he came to his conclusions.
Sam listened quietly—encouraging him to continue when he paused.
He was a bit surprised that it was Dean's uncharacteristically perceptive advice that swayed him. But regardless—he was happy that his friend had chosen this path.
"I figure—we all have our particular talents, or skills, or what-ever--to offer to the world…" David concluded. "Dean is a hunter,--as are you at the moment—that's your contribution to making this planet better. I'm not. But I have other skills to offer.
You know-I wanted to feel all the release that seeing one of those things dead could bring. But that would only be a momentary, selfish thing.
I thought about this a lot. I think my role lies in helping people like you in your efforts. I mean--how often are you hurt in this job? More often than you'd ever admit. And where can you go?--I've seen the home-done suturing scars on your hides. Dean is starting to look like a human jig saw puzzle, for shits sakes. --"
He drained his beer.
"I have to do this in a thinking manner—which is ironic-because there's nothing logical about any of this--
--But I'm a doctor. So --I should be a doctor for the cause.
Sam—I just don't have the balls to risk my life and limb for this stuff—it goes against the very fibre of my being. I'm trained to preserve life—not to risk it.
So --I think --I should be available to keep people like you whole and healthy to pursue your way.
That'll be my contribution………Does that make any sense to you--?"
Sam regarded him with affection. He could see the evidence of his friend's personal battles etched on his weary features.
"David--I think you nailed it.
We do this because--well—it's complicated.
But knowing what we know doesn't mean instant responsibility either. You are not required to be a part of any of this. You can choose to live normally, you know.
You can ignore—forget—about this ugly facet of reality.
Ninety-nine percent of humanity does and exists perfectly happily.
But if you choose to be a part of it—especially in the way you propose—man—I can't tell you what that would mean
to the community.
--Most of us have copies of medical books, first aid manuals—some medical supplies. We all have had to do our own little surgeries—we're like hockey players--get stitched up on the bench and head right back out for the next shift. It's far from ideal—but it's reality.
--Having someone like you on board will keep people alive and healing that probably wouldn't have had the chance otherwise. That's no small contribution. Don't ever discount that.
If you feel compelled to be a part of this—then I think you've found the most significant way you can do that.--"
David was relieved. Because of Catherine—he was going to be connected. But he'd found a meaningful way to contribute—and Sam's understanding and endorsement meant the world to him.
Sam took his hand and shook it vigorously.
"Welcome to the family. I think you're gonna be busy…."
Sam helped David retrieve the groceries from the truck. He already had the ribs grilling—the scent filled the house deliciously. David was amazed that Sam was even able to salvage anything edible from the kitchen. He'd definitely be asking for a few pointers.
"Where's Dean--?"
"—asleep on his bed. He was trying his best to contribute—but he was beat. I left him to snooze.—"
David went into the guest room. He had to re-insert the IV asap—didn't want to jeopardize the effects of the antibiotics by stopping too early.
He found his patient in the pile of laundry.
"—Dean—wake-up Hey—Dean--"
Dean groaned a complaint and swatted David's hand away,--but David persisted.
"--What?!" he griped.
"It's me—your doctor. Wake up—"
Dean grumbled and sat up, bleary-eyed.
"--oh—hi David.."
"Show me your hand—dumb-ass—"
Dean knew the drill and presented the appendage—ready to be speared again. He rubbed his eyes while David inserted the IV port in yet another place.
"—ow."
"Serves you right. Now leave it in or the next time I'll stick it somewhere less heroic."
Dean sighed. Tethered again. Freedom was short-lived and he'd slept it all away….
David sat on the edge of the bed.
"—Guess you heard--?"
Dean shook the cobwebs from his brain.
"—Oh—the hunt—yeah—Way to go—good decision--!" Dean was genuinely happy that David had chosen this. "--What changed your mind--?"
"—Oh--couple of things. --Stuff I'd been thinking about. --Stuff you said. --And Ellen…." He trailed off and fidgeted.
"--Dean—you don't suppose I wrecked it all…?"
Dean was hardly the guru to consult regarding the workings of the female mind. He himself alienated or offended them as often as he attracted them. But he offered his take on it anyway.
"Look David—I know this. That woman is made of stone. She'd rip Jesus himself a new one if she thought he had it
coming..
You're the only one so far who has been able to melt that façade—and pretty effortlessly, from what I've seen. If she agreed to see you—I'd say you have a good chance here. So be your charming self and don't screw it up with any more stupid ideas--"
David nodded. "—Ok--good…ok."
"—Atta boy. Go gitt'er—"
Ellen arrived a few minutes early. She wore her best sour expression.
Sam and Dean mumbled hellos and got the hell out of there as soon as David presented himself. Sam had the excuse that he had to monitor the cooking. Dean just slithered away.
David joined Sam in the kitchen to pour some wine—which, thank god—he'd remembered to pick up.
"—How's it going--?" Sam asked quietly.
"Like she's a stranger that I owe money to…" David whispered.
Sam winced. They really had to give these two some alone time.
He confirmed that dinner was on in half an hour and sent him back out to the lion's den with two glasses.
Dean hobbled in—desperate to be of help to Sam.
"Save me, Sam--she heard I pulled my IV this morning—I'm lucky to get out with any danglies left--!" Dean said, -vowing to pay David back for that one…
Sam handed him some asparagus.
"Pinch off the little triangles--snap the bottoms off and rinse them--"
"—One handed here—" he complained.
"--so it will take longer—isn't that a good thing--?"
Dean had no argument and he set about his task. The end result was some rather short and moth-eaten looking spears, but they'd earned their keep long before making it to the table.
"—Wish he'd get around to telling her his good news—" Dean muttered. "we're all in the cross-hairs 'til she's in a better mood…"
Sam was eyeing them through the pass through.
"I think he's on it right now—hang on--"
They peered at the two—David speaking earnestly and Ellen dropping her head into her hands and growing teary….
They silently high-fived each other--as much for their own benefit as the others.
Sam got the asparagus shards steaming. In a few minutes he was able to announce that dinner was ready.
They gathered round the table and Sam served his efforts—which thankfully lived up to their billing and kept everyone occupied with its consumption.
Dean ate everything that wasn't green. Sam and David smirked--and exchanged knowing looks.
Ellen took the opportunity to toast.
"to—health—friends—wisdom--"
"--Sex--" Dean contributed.
They all turned and gave him looks varying from embarrassed disgust –(Sam) to open amusement (David)
"—--What--?!" Dean grinned.
Glasses clinked and the sentiments were endorsed heartily.
When dinner was clearly winding down—Sam announced that he and Dean would head out in search of dessert. There was some half-hearted, unconvincing objection—but the plan was obviously the right one. Sam rose and
cleared the plates while Dean poured more wine and crutched to the foyer, towing his IV—and digging through the closet to find his own jacket. Sam joined him--keys in hand.
"Ok—we're off—we'll bring back something tasty--" Sam announced.
The other two mumbled some response—and the brothers hastened out into the evening.
"Whoa--fifth wheels or what…"
"—Yeah, well—now you know how I feel every time you hook up with some chick when we go out."
Dean looked at him with an eyebrow raised. He hadn't really thought of that before..
He struggled to manage his crutch and his stand—until Sam simplified things by taking charge of the IV while Dean got himself through the cargo door.
Once they were both settled in the van—Sam took them through a Dairy Queen drive-thru, and they loaded up on some decadent treats.
Dean reveled in the feeling of being sprung from the house—it made the ice-cream that much sweeter. Sam had to agree. He found a park at which to stop.
When the treats were devoured—Dean wondered how long they needed to stay away.
"—I dunno--it's been a really long time for the poor doc—so I'm guessing a few minutes tops--"
They both dissolved into guilty laughter.
They figured a couple of hours should do it.
They'd pretty much seen all that town had to offer in the after hours and Sam was starting to worry that they would look suspicious soon—as if they were casing the joint.
They headed back—and remembering their promise to provide dessert—Sam ran in to a grocery store and picked up a cheese cake.
They hoped the van's arrival in the driveway was enough of a heads up for the two inside—and Sam took his time helping Dean extricate himself, carrying his IV.
Dean was getting fairly adept at using the single crutch and it would be only a matter of a day or two before he could get rid of the arm restraint. By then he'd have been freed of his tether as well. Then they'd have to seriously consider leaving their safe haven, for everyone's sake.
Sam knocked and opened the door with a loud hello. They didn't want to be surprised anymore than the others would…
Ellen was in the kitchen hastily preparing coffee. She poked her head out and greeted them.
"You guys were out a while—what'd you bring us--?" David asked.
Sam presented his purchase and went in search of some plates.
Dean dropped onto the couch with an "oof."
"So….?" he asked—turning to the doc with a mischievous look..
David blushed.
" We had a very nice evening . --Lots of quality conversation…."
"—Uh huh…" he grinned. "By the way—you might want to tell her she buttoned up her shirt wrong…"
David chuckled with embarrassment and whispered conspiratorially "—you kind of caught us off guard…"
Dean shot him an attaboy look.
Ellen and Sam brought trays into the livingroom.
"You look tired, Dean—" she said—handing him a mug. He was, actually. Exhausted.
"So do you. –You two have a pleasant evening--?" he asked with an innocent expression. He was enjoying making them squirm.
"Very nice, thank you. We had a lot to talk about—" she answered in a clipped none-of-your-damn-business tone.
He looked pointedly, eyebrow raised, at the mis-buttoned place.
She glanced down and let out an exasperated 'Damn'—rising to go correct it. She smacked him on the back of the head as she passed him.
"Ow!" he protested with a laugh—ducking too late and smoothing his tufted hair back down.
They polished off the cheesecake and Ellen announced she had to return to the roadhouse.
"Lovely dinner, Sam, thank-you. You have a real talent. –And you—" she said sternly, turning to Dean—" If I hear any more nonsense about you undermining the doctor's work, you'll have me to answer to--!"
"Yes'm—" he mumbled sheepishly. She kissed them both goodnight and David followed her out.
Dean let out a deep sigh of relief.
It had been a good evening, but it was tense and draining.
He was glad that this particular puzzle piece had so nicely fallen into place. It was a rare thing lately for something to work out so well.
Now they could leave knowing their friends had a chance at real happiness.
--At least something good came of all of this.
Sam dropped down beside him.
" That was excellent.…"
"--mmm hmm." Dean's eyes were closed.
" You ok?" Sam asked, ever concerned.
"—just tired., Sammy."
"I hear ya."
David came back in and joined them. He looked weary, but content.
"I really want to thank you guys--"
"So you guys are good then--?" Sam interrupted.
"--Yeah—very good."
"Well, congrats, David. --Glad we could help the cause." Sam smiled, adding "—Don't know about you two—but I'm beat. Think I'll head up. How about you, Dean?"
Dean had fallen asleep.
David seconded that.
"yeah—it's been a busy day--I'm done. --Do you need a hand getting that jackass to bed?"
"--I heard that--"
David laughed and rose to leave. " Guess not, then. --G'night boys. I'll be out early again tomorrow."
Sam rose. "I'll get the laundry off your bed."
"—thanks mom—" Dean mumbled.
Sam returned and hauled him to his feet—pointing him in the direction of his room.
"Go to bed, Dean. --then I can."
He nodded, yawning. He hooked his thumb over his crutch grip and fingers around the stand, attempting to maneuver both in the same direction. Didn't work, of course. He only succeeded in tripping himself, and both he
and the stand would have sprawled on the floor if Sam hadn't caught the both of them.
Sam sighed and helped his scowling brother to his bed.
" And I am not reading you a story."