One shot story that came to me early this morning on the way to work. Dean/Sam drabble, no slash
I don't own Supernatural.
Reviews welcomed.
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Vigil
Four days.
It had been four days since they had faced off against that lizard monster in Bozeman.
It had been four days since Sam had saved Dean's life when the beast managed to sneak in behind Dean.
It had been four days since Sam Winchester had been knocked unconscious.
It had been four days since Sam "Burkovitz" had been checked into this hospital, after suffering a brutal mugging just outside of town.
It had been four days since Dean had slept more than a few minutes at a time.
Dean sat uncomfortably in a too-thinly padded chair next to Sam's bed in the ICU at Livingston Memorial Hospital. He'd been sitting in, pacing near, eating in and barely sleeping on that chair since Monday, and he had already decided that the chair would pay for torturing him before they left this place.
If we leave….
Dean pushed the dark thought aside. Sam would wake up.
Sam has to wake up.
It was just after dawn, on what Dean assumed was a quiet day at this hospital. He glanced out the window in the room's door. He hadn't seen anyone besides the occasional nurse go by for hours. Every now and then, a candy striper would poke his or her head in and ask if he needed anything. All too rarely, that hot nurse from the desk would step in to check on Sam, and would try and talk Dean into going home for a few hours. She was unbelievably persistent. She'd had the same unsuccessful conversation with him nearly thirty times in three days. He'd started counting them in order to pass the time. She was like a dog with a bone…and it unsettled him that she reminded him so completely of Sam when he was worried about something. He would tell her no. Sometimes nicely, sometimes not so much…once he'd even shouted at her, but still she kept coming back. Sam would like her.
Dean looked back at Sam. The kid looked pale and tired even when he was unconscious. He looked bad. Some dried blood clung to Sam's hair where the doctors had stitched up a deep gash behind his ear. The monster's claws had come dangerously close to an artery, but Fate had smiled on Sam for some reason that day. Still, with the stitches behind his ear, the dried blood in his hair, and the myriad bruises along his young face, Sam looked terrible. His sickly pallor and sunken eyes left him looking...well…dead. Had it not been for the gentle rising and falling of the chest and the slow but steady rhythm of the heart monitor, Dean would have thought his little brother was dead.
A pang of guilt hit Dean hard as he sat there staring. It wasn't supposed to work this way. He was the older brother. He had been watching out for Sam since he was four years old. It should be him lying there in that bed. If he hadn't let his guard down while reloading his gun, then that freakin' lizard-thing wouldn't have gotten the jump on him and Sam wouldn't have jumped in behind his idiot brother to face it. The beast wouldn't have swatted Sam aside like a rag-doll, Sam wouldn't be lying here, and Dean wouldn't be feeling every moment of his failure right now.
He glanced at the clock. Almost 6 am. The orderlies and nurses would be making their next set of rounds soon. Dean decided to talk to Sam again. The doctor had told him that patients in these conditions were often helped by the sound of family and friends speaking to them. So, Dean had been talking on and off all day, every day, for three and a half days now. His voice was raw and hoarse but it didn't matter. If talking to Sam's still form might help, even a little, then he would talk until his voice gave out. It's the least I deserve for putting him here….
Dean had told Sam things that they never talked about normally. In fact, the last three and a half days had become the world's longest chick-flick. He had finally told Sam everything about his relationship with Cassie. He thought Sam would appreciate that, since he'd been pestering Dean for months to find out about it. And he thought that Sam would be royally pissed when he found out that Dean had waited until Sam was unconscious to tell him the story. But that was ok. He'd let Sam bitch him out for that one. Like he'd told Sam the previous night, if he wanted to bitch Dean out, all he had to do was wake up.
It hadn't worked. Nothing had.
He leaned in, taking Sam's too cold hand in his own and talking softly into Sam's right ear, "Hey, little bro, it's morning…time to wake up."
No reaction, just the BEEP of the monitors, just like the last four days.
"No? Ok. I can wait. You take all the time you want kiddo. Hey, they'll be bringing breakfast around soon. I'll get you some coffee. You always wake up for coffee, don't you?"
BEEP.
"I've been getting you coffee every day. Figured maybe the smell…you know? Heh. The nurses keep throwing them out every night when I fall asleep. I know most of them think I'm nuts, they just won't say it to my face. Hey, speaking of nurses…you've got a hot one, dude. You gotta see her. And she likes to argue…she's your kind of girl, Sammy. I mean…she's not Buckets o' Crazy like your last one, and I don't think she has any black altars hidden away, but…."
BEEP.
"Listen, Sam…if you want a vacation, this isn't how you do it. Just tell me. We'll find a beach somewhere. Nice warm weather. You always liked the beach didn't you?"
BEEP.
"Yeah. Just say the word, bro, and we'll go. I could use a few days off too, you know. Maybe we'll convince your nurse to go, too. Dude, you'll love her…."
Dean trailed off. He could almost hear Sam's incredulous retort, Dean, can you try thinking with your upstairs brain? He chuckled softly at the sound of Sam's voice in his head. He'd give just about anything to hear it for real just about now.
BEEP.
Dean sat back when he heard the door open behind him. He glanced back to see "Nurse Hottie" walk in with a cup of water in her hand. What was her actual name? Rachel? Roz? No. Rebecca? She smiled at him as she came closer, and Dean glanced at her ID badge. Amanda! That's it. Who the hell was I thinking about? He shook it off and flashed his most charming grin at her.
Unfortunately, she wasn't buying today either. Damn, she was so much like Sam. She frowned, "Everything alright, Mr. Burkovitz?"
Burkovitz? But-- Oh. Right, the insurance card. Dean began to realize just how tired he was…he couldn't even keep the assumed names straight in his head. He shrugged it off and stifled a yawn as he took the water she offered.
"Dean, remember? Just a little tired. Nothing a little coffee can't fix."
She wasn't buying this either, damn her, "You've been living off coffee and sugar for what? Three days now? You're going to crash. You really need to go home and rest."
Dean frowned. He really didn't want to go another ten rounds with Nurse Hottie right now. He settled on telling her the truth.
"Look, Amanda. I appreciate what you're trying to do, and I really appreciate the attention you've been giving us the last few days, but I'm not leaving my brother, not even for a little while. He saved my life when that mugger came after us, and losing a little sleep is the least I can do. Besides, I have a funny feeling about today…."
Amanda turned an amused but skeptical eye at him while she checked Sam's vitals, "You becoming a psychic now?"
Dean smiled, a genuine smile, as the irony sank in, No, that's Sammy's gig. But, hey, I'm due for a superpower any time now.
"Brotherly intuition, I guess. I just feel he's almost rested up, you know." Dean was vaguely aware just how pathetic and un-sexy he was sounding, but he didn't care. Impressing Amanda was the furthest thing from his mind right now. Sam was all that mattered. When he looked back up at her, she was standing still, grinning at him. Dean raised his eyebrows in confusion.
She shrugged, "I hope Sam realizes what kind of brother he has…."
Dean laughed for the first time in days, "I'll never let him forget."
"Well, they'll be coming around with breakfast soon. Call if you need anything."
"Will do."
Amanda left silently, gently closing the door behind her. Dean looked back at Sam. He reached out and gripped his brother's cold hand again.
"Hear that, Sammy? She's totally into me. I think she's into you too, though…you know, the wounded puppy bit…it works for you."
BEEP.
"Hey, I think I'll try and hook up with her after you get better. Maybe this trip won't be a total disaster after all," Dean paused, and then gave into devilish temptation, and grinned, "but, hey, since you're the hero of the hour and all, maybe we can both date her. Three's company, they say."
He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Sam, but then winced when he realized that Sam couldn't see him just now.
BEEP.
What the hell am I doing? Making stupid jokes when he can't even hear me…God…. He choked back a sob as the exhaustion of the last four days crashed over him like a wave. It came out of nowhere, the sudden urge to just break down and cry…. He struggled to pull himself together, and keep his voice steady for Sam's sake. Yeah, for Sam's sake. Right.
"But, hey, you think it over, eh? She'll wait. I, uh…I love you, Sammy. Wake up, please."
BEEP-BEEP.
Dean almost didn't notice it the first time. He whipped his head around to glare at the heart monitor when it sounded again.
BEEP-BEEP.
While he was staring, trying to comprehend whatever the little hospital screen was trying to tell him, he felt Sammy's fingers tighten ever so slightly around his own. His head shot back around to Sam so quick he had to brace himself against the bed to stave off the dizziness. He saw Sam's eyelids flutter.
"Dude…that's…sick."
Dean considered the possibility that he was losing his mind for a second, but only for a second. Then he shot to his feet and leaned in over his brother's face.
"What? Sammy…what?"
He saw Sam's tongue trying to move, and Dean remembered the cup of water. He reached over, and tipped it just enough to let a few drops fall on Sam's lips. He watched Sam's eyes crack open slightly.
"I don't…care how much you….love me…we're not…having a…threesome with some nurse…."
Dean burst out laughing and scooped Sam up off the pillow, wrapping his arms around his little brother. He sighed with an incredible feeling of relief, "Oh, thank God, Sammy…."
He felt Sam wince, but then felt a somewhat limp hand brace against his back. Dean hugged him even closer, careful not to pull on any of the tubes or wires they had hooked up to Sam.
Sam dropped his hand away, "Dude…not healed…not healed…."
Dean quickly laid Sam back against the pillows, careful not to put any weight on the stitches. Back in place, Sam looked up at him, looking doped up and confused.
"I take it…we're in a hospital?"
Dean perched himself on the side of the bed, and brushed Sam's too-long bangs off his forehead with one hand, "Yeah, you took a…well, a bad fall. But the docs have you all patched up."
Sam just looked at him for a minute, and then frowned a little, "I must have brain damage for you to have that look on your face…."
Dean's eyes widened. He honestly wasn't sure what he even looked like at this point. He forced a smug grin onto his face, hoping to calm Sam. He held a hand out to his brother and extended his fingers.
"Tell me how many fingers I'm holding up."
Sam stared at them, but couldn't seem to focus. Finally, he gave up and looked back at Dean, "It better not be just one."
Dean chuckled. He pressed the call button and signaled for the nurse.
"You had me worried, bro. I thought you were…I started to think I'd lost you, man."
Sam tried to smile, but failed, "As I passed out, I figured we'd both end up lizard food."
"Almost, buddy, almost," Dean smiled. He reached over and dripped some more water onto Sam's lips.
"How long…?"
"Just about four days, now, Sammy."
There was a pause in the conversation when Nurse Hottie---Amanda, her name's Amanda…why can't I remember that?--entered the room. She broke into a grin when she saw Sam's sleepy looking face.
"Well, I guess you ARE turning psychic, Dean," she said. She quickly checked Sam's chart and the monitors, and then picked up the phone beside the bed, "The patient in room 501 is awake, and I need Doctor Chapman, please."
Amanda hung up the phone and turned to the two brothers, she noted to herself that they were still holding hands, only now Sam was returning the grip as hard as he could, which wasn't very, and neither of them seemed to even be aware of it. She made a mental note to call her sister when she got off shift that night. She busied herself checking on the equipment, and tried to ignore the two as they quietly resumed talking, focused on each other and totally oblivious to her presence.
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Two days later, Sam was released from the hospital. Dean entered the room after checking Sam out, and found Sam dressed in the clothes he had brought from the car. Sam was gingerly exploring the wound on the back of his head with one hand when he spotted Dean.
Dean saw Sam touching the stitches and immediately went into mother hen mode, stepping up beside Sam with urgency.
"Dude, you okay? Need the doctor?"
Sam smiled, "Yeah, Dean, relax. Just itchy is all. How long 'til then can come out?"
"Doc said these are those fancy dissolvable stitches…just gotta wait until they fade away. You might have to be careful about washing your hair for a little while, though."
"That's just great."
Dean smiled, "You must be feeling better if you're starting to whine."
"I'm not whining!"
"Yes, you are," Dean replied cockily, "besides, we should take this opportunity to cut that mop off your head."
"I don't have a 'mop' on my head."
"Yeah you do!"
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
"Ahem. Gentlemen?"
Both boys started at the new voice behind them. Dean recovered first, plastering his 'charm the ladies' grin on his face.
"Amanda…hi."
She smiled back at him, "I just came to see you two off. The nursing staff says their going to miss you. They've never had two more entertaining patients."
Dean shrugged, "Well, always leave them wanting more."
The boys traded their goodbyes with Amanda, and watched her leave. When the door closed, Dean looked over at Sam, who was staring at the door with a faraway look in his eyes.
"Sam?"
"Hmm?"
"What's up?"
Sam paused with a look of contemplation on his face, then murmured, "A threesome, huh?"
Dean gaped at Sam, open-mouthed with shock, until Sam glanced over and flashed a lopsided grin at him. Dean burst out laughing. He put his arm around Sam's shoulders.
"What say we get outta here, Sammy?"
Sam let Dean guide him to the door; he didn't shrug off Dean's arm. Such public displays were rare from his brother, and he sensed that Dean was still a little shaken up from all this. Plus, he would feel bad for ruining the moment, so he just walked beside his brother quietly as they move down toward the hospital parking lot. He glanced at Dean when they moved outside.
"Where to now?"
Dean smiled, "We find a clean hotel, and I sleep for a week. It's my turn, since you've already done that. And I'm thinking maybe I'll dream about Nurse Hottie back there for a while."
Sam stared at him for a minute noticing the gleam in Dean's eyes, then his mouth dropped open and he arched an eyebrow, "You got her phone number, didn't you?"
Dean smiled guiltily and held up a Post-It with the name Amanda and a local Montana phone number. He grinned, "While I was signing you out."
Sam shook his head, marveling at his brother's talent. He gave the hospital a long glance over his shoulder, which Dean had yet to let go of, and then turned back to Dean.
"Dude, let me have it."
Dean looked astounded, "No way, dude!"
"Come on, man!"
"No!"
Hey, I'm the hero, remember? The hero gets the girl."
"WHAT-EVER, dude. The hero IS a girl, maybe."
The few people in the parking lot that afternoon noticed two guys, bickering loudly as they walked through the parked cars. The taller one laughing hysterically between trading insults, the shorter one with his arm draped protectively over the other's shoulder. Neither of the two noticed anyone else.
That night, an orderly cleaning up the rooms on the fifth floor found a hospital chair torn to pieces, and the rubble piled just inside a supply closet near Room 501.