A/N: Vivi here! Surprise! It's a mini-chapter! (Because it stands well on its own but it's short and the next one stands on its own but is longer and I didn't want to post one massive chapter because I'm mean.) Also, fair warning: This is the second to last chapter of this fic. Surprise...
Warnings from all the other chapters apply.
Enjoy!
Previously on Family Practice:
"I'll make you believe." He finally stopped crying and was now just grinning like a fool.
"And I'll help you forget." The sob/laugh that left me at that moment dispelled the last of my doubt that Sam would be okay.
"I love you."
"You made a black raspberry pie just for me." Sam said, seemingly unable to believe that what I told him was true.
I looked up at him. No part of me wanted to move away from his side, where I was perfectly cuddled up and resting my head on his good shoulder. I tugged myself closer with an arm over his belly, rubbing my thumb over the soft fabric of his shirt once I was where I wanted to be. "Sure did."
"So… why black raspberry? Why not apple or pumpkin or something?" He asked. "Those berries aren't easy to come by."
Had I been a cat at any point in time, I would've started purring when he absently ran his fingers along my back, under my shirt, slowly and rhythmically. My eyes slid closed and I felt like I was melting. "Mmm…"
"Still awake?" His voice was much softer.
"It's your favorite." How am I tired already? I slept for so long…
"Who told you that?" A quiet series of coughs echoed through his chest and reminded me that both Winchesters were sick now. Sam had been going downhill ever since our little episode at the frozen river. Dean, on the other hand, was probably beat down by stress, exposure, and the slew of nasties that were undoubtedly brought in by all the patrons of that club.
This is gonna be a fun week. "Little birdie."
He laughed. "Is that little birdie's name Dean?"
"He said he owed you one."
There was quiet for a few seconds. I was starting to understand why when Dean was tiny, he wouldn't go to sleep until he heard someone's heartbeat. It was very comforting. Especially when it was someone you love. "Why would he owe me?"
"Didn't say."
"Huh."
I started giggling when Sam's stomach complained- rather loudly- at the thought of food. "Somebody's not happy."
I was pretty sure Sam rolled his eyes, but I couldn't tell from where I was laying. "Somebody was on the back burner. Bigger fish."
Lazily, I propped myself up on my elbow so I could look him in the face. "If I hadn't stopped you before third base you'd a passed out on me, Winchester. Not fair to put a girl through that." I pretended to pout before a sleepy smile pushed it away. "Let's get you some food."
"Uh, the pie is probably soggy by now." Sam glanced over at the desk, where the pie and ice cream sat forgotten. Sure enough, most of the pie had collapsed into a murky white soup.
"Then we'll find real food. And after that, maybe some pie, if you think you can handle it. Sound like a deal?"
"Bossy." Sam smirked when I punched his good shoulder playfully.
"C'mon." We left Sam's room and I led him into the kitchen, tugging his left hand the whole way. "Sit." I pointed to the table and set about reheating a bowl of the soup I made earlier.
"What time is it?" He asked, sounding very confused.
"Right around seven." I shrugged. "Why?"
"Seven? In the morning? Or at night?"
"Night."
He looked slightly disturbed by the new information. "How long was I asleep?"
"Eighteen hours or so. Dean said you woke up around eight this morning. Do you remember that?" I asked, suddenly wondering if he really had been lucid this morning like Dean said.
"Uh, I think so. He- uh, he patched me up and told me you were alive, and that the…" He cleared his throat after an awkward pause. "The baby is okay, too. I didn't believe him."
"I could tell."
"You were right y'know, earlier."
"Women are always right, Sam."
I had my back turned, working at the stove, but I was pretty sure he rolled his eyes at me again. "I did have nightmares. But they weren't like… nightmares. It was a whole bunch of different places, different times. Some of them were really stressful-"
"Stressful?" I turned look at him. "That's what your nightmares are? Not, oh, I don't know, terrifying? Adrenaline pumping? Mind numbing? Cuz that's what mine are."
"You know what I mean. I'm used to those kinds of nightmares, but these were weird. Some of them were awesome. Like, best day of my life awesome. But then, the last one…" He trailed off and looked away. The room was silent until he let go of a loaded sigh. "The last one really stung."
"Tell me about it." I left the pot on the stove to continue warming up and went to join Sam at the table. "Maybe it'll help."
"No."
A frown settled on my face. "Why not?"
"You said you'd help me forget, right?" Sam asked. At first I thought he was joking, just trying to change the subject or something, but there was an actual question in his eyes.
"Yes."
"I don't want to relive that ever again." He looked away, as if he was ashamed.
"Then you don't have to." I said softly. "But don't shut me out again. I want you, Sam. Not some empty shell of a man."
Sam and I looked up as an almighty sneeze echoed through the kitchen. Dean was in the doorway, still wrapped in the blanket, still shivering, but now with a bright red nose; I wondered where he'd found tissues. I hadn't left him any. "How was the pie?" Dean asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.
I went to go check the soup while Dean shuffled over to sit across from Sam at the table. My nerves were set on edge when Sam didn't speak. I glanced at the pair to see Dean staring guiltily at Sam's arm, trapped in the sling. Sam looked like he was genuinely trying to form words, but nothing came out.
"Feelin' any better?" Dean asked patiently, sniffing the snot up into his nose. I wanted to throw a box of tissues at him for doing that, but I was out of ammo. Didn't even know if we had any in the storage closet.
"Y-yeah. A little." Sam said quietly. "Are you sick?"
"No, I'm studying for a role in the upcoming movie 'Dean's a Douche'. The one where he yells at his brother for having a breakdown and then proceeds to take his own nosedive. The whole thing is really about this rockin' heroine, though. She saves 'em both at the last second. Slaps some sense into 'em. Bombshell of a babe, too." I could hear the grin in Dean's voice.
"What happened? A cold isn't a nosedive." Sam said, his tone conveying his confusion.
"It is when you get sloshed while you have the flu." I said, bringing two bowls of the reheated soup to the table. "Eat." I grabbed my own bowl and the three of us ate in peaceful silence.
"Feel like I haven't slept in days." Dean said as he nearly nodded off into his empty bowl after all of us had finished. "This sucks."
"And it will continue to suck to the maximum degree of suck-age for at least twelve more hours. Or until your liver finally clears all that booze and lets your body start healing itself." I said sternly. "Make sure you drink a ton of water."
"Can do." Dean got up and put his bowl in the sink before heading for the hallway.
"You don't want pie?" I asked, surprised that he would skip out on one of his favorite things.
"Couldn't hold it down if I wanted to. Soup's hard enough." Dean shrugged tiredly and tugged the blanket closer around his shoulders. "Save me some?"
"We will." Sam said with a sympathetic grin.
Dean returned the grin, but his was a bit more… shit-eating. "Hope it's as good as those cherry undies, college-boy."
Sam flushed such a deep red that I was afraid he'd pass out. Dean laughed the whole way to his bedroom and I just didn't have it in me to ask what the hell that was all about.
As expected, Sam loved the pie.
He loved the dessert afterward even more.
I woke up to the whole bed moving as Sam struggled to stop a particularly violent coughing fit. We'd managed to thoroughly wear ourselves out last night, which wasn't really necessary but was so necessary after the day we both had, and I thought maybe a long peaceful sleep would help Sam heal up quicker.
Guess a few hours of rest wasn't enough to heal whatever bug Sam had picked up.
"Y'okay?" I asked, stretching my arms and rolling over to face him. Unconsciously, I pulled the blankets closer to my chest to hide the goods as if Sam and I hadn't spent hours yesterday enjoying each other's company.
He looked worse than yesterday. "I'll live."
"You better." I mumbled, taking in the sunken eyes and exhausted expression. "We need to talk."
He turned his head on the pillow to look at me. "We've been talking."
"Not like that. We need to have the talk."
His eyes narrowed. "And what exactly is the talk?"
I bit my lip and dropped my eyes to watch my hands play with the hem of the blanket at my chest. "Y'know…"
"I don't think I do."
Glancing up at his confused hazel eyes, I took a deep breath. Then I moved one of my hands to my stomach and patted the blanket there.
"Oh. That talk." I heard Sam swallow uncomfortably. "Well, uh, when did you wanna do that?"
"Today. We have to call Cas and wake Dean. They should be there for that conversation."
"Why?"
Because he might not be yours. Because all of you deserve to know what Francesca did to you. Because Cas will understand and help me explain things when I freeze up. "This isn't just about us."
Sam nodded slowly, turning away to cough into his elbow. When he turned back a moment later, there was a gentle kindness in his eyes. "I know. But it could be, if you really wanted it to."
"What?"
"Ali, the bunker isn't exactly the best place to raise a child. You deserve better."
"Sam-"
"We could move into a house nearby. Or further away, maybe start a semi-normal life."
"No, Sam-"
"Find a good school system, somewhere safe with nothing weird going on. Close to Bobby, maybe. He acts like he hates it, but he used to love babysitting us when we were little. He could watch the kid if we need a break. Dean could too, I suppose, if he wanted to move with us. I doubt he'd give up hunting, but maybe-"
"Sam." I rested my hand on his cheek and drew him back to reality. "We're not going anywhere."
"But the bunker-"
"Is the safest place for us right now. I'm still on the most wanted list, both of you have warrants out for your arrest, and demons have been literally stalking us lately. We can't just throw caution to the wind and go all apple-pie right now. It's not safe." I said quietly, watching his face fall. "I'm not saying it'll never happen. Just… not now, okay?"
"I just want you to be safe."
"I will be."
A/N: Leave me a review! Also, for the next few chapters that are left to post, I'm asking all of you if you'd read and enjoy another (and probably final) fic starring our boys and Ali/Baby. Just to, y'know, tie up loose ends... I'm apologizing in advance for the last two chapters in this fic... So, shall I continue? Let me know!
