Bedeviling the Chipper

By: Maygin

Summary: "Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate." – Germaine Greer

Disclaimer: I am not making any money off of nor do I own anything supernatural… other than my roommate.

Your Fave Side Note: Hey all, I am so sorry for the wait, I was going to load this last night and then the night before and then the night before… you get my drift. Anyways, there are still about two more chapters after this one, and I plan on… hopefully, getting all three loaded this weekend. Thank you all again SOOO much for the reviews! As lame and pathetic as it makes me sound, I live for those things… reviews are AWESOME! So keep em comin… cuz I've got a fever, and the only cure is more cowb- …er- reviews. ;)

Chapter 12

Twenty minutes later a crashing noise erupted from down the hall. Suddenly Cal stumbled into the open area of the wing and froze at the site before him. Dean was half-sitting half lying against the wall, with Sam's back slumped against his chest. Both were asleep, exhaustion taking over both of them.

"Damn, where's a camera when you need one?" He had said it quietly but as it was Cal, it had still been loud enough to stir the elder Winchester.

Dean opened his bleary bloodshot eyes and took in a long, deep breath of oxygen… feeling a hundred percent better knowing that his brother was still with him. He looked up noticing Cal staring at them, looking like he'd just found his lost puppy. Dean grimaced, but didn't let go. "Would you stop that?" Dean whispered loud enough for Cal to hear.

"I'm sorry." Cal whispered loudly, though it was obvious he wasn't. "It's just, you guys are so cu-"

"Don't say it. Just… can you get Jamie or something?"

"Why?" Cal asked suddenly, fearing they were hurt.

"Like you said… you don't come out of something like that without consequences."

Cal's stomach twisted. "Is he okay?"

Dean let a relieved smile through, "Yeah, he's okay. But I don't think he's waking up anytime soon… and my butts asleep."

"What happened?"

"Sammy got em…" Dean whispered proudly. "It's over." He sighed heavily, feeling the exhaustion deep within his bones. "Thank God it's over."

Cal kneeled down next to them. "Are you sure he's okay?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "I think the adrenaline just kicked out and the rest caught up with him… he's gonna be okay."

Cal smiled… and then he swallowed, hesitantly. Dean noticed, and gave a small nod. Cal responded with another small, this time grateful smile, as he slowly reached his hand out and ran his fingers over the younger brother's hand. He slipped his hand in its grasp and squeezed. Sam unconsciously gave a small squeeze back. Cal smiled widely… he'd been waiting for this… to be able to connect to this younger man not in halves, but as a whole. He looked up and could see the stoic comprehension in the elder Winchester's eyes. It wasn't condemning, just accepting.

He squeezed the hand again. "I'll go find Jamie." He offered and then turned and left.

Dean leaned his head against the wall with an easy sigh.

"So that's Cal?" A tired and quiet voice inquired.

Dean could not help the grin that stole across his lips at that voice, even if it sounded drained and horse. "The flower himself." He answered. There was a pause between them where he imagined his brother was trying to garner the strength to speak.

"We owe him a lot."

Dean's own tired eyes roamed the ceiling in thought. "Yeah we do." He looked down at the top of his brother's dark head suddenly and nudged him gently in the arm. "I thought you were asleep."

"I think I've slept enough, don't you?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "That wasn't sleeping. How much do you remember?"

Sam turned his thoughts back; the gaps that had seemed to be there before were slowly filling in. He drew in a deep breath, happy with just the simple task of breathing on his own. "It's hard to say."

"It's okay." Dean assured non-chalantly. "We'll talk about it later." Dean shifted his sore muscles a little, doing his best not to jostle the dead weight lying against him.

"Thanks."

"For what?" Dean asked, more out of pure reaction than honest curiosity.

Sam's eye-lids drooped slightly. "Unlocking the basement door all the time."

Dean paused. "You're gonna milk this whole 'weak-little-brother-in-hospital' deal for all its worth, aren't you?"

"Absolutely." Sam let a tired smile grace his features. "It's the only time I can initiate a chick-flick moment and get away with it."

"Abusive little monster." Dean teased. "You're welcome." He said quietly, and then quickly moved on to something other than his grand brotherly deed. "What did you do down there anyways?"

There was a pause and Dean could almost see the shrug his brother would have delivered had he the strength. "Talked."

"You talked to a wall?"

Sam actually chuckled. "You talked to yours." He accused.

"Because I'm funny. And I only did it once."

"Before I made you paint clothes on her?"

Dean chuckled a little himself. "Crime of the century kiddo."

"You turned out alright."

Dean smirked. He tilted his head to the side, getting a good look at his younger brother skirting the edge of consciousness, completely limp against him. It was going to be a while before Sam was back to full, fighting strength; but Dean wasn't complaining… Sam had come out of his near brain dead state lacking all the complications Dean had been fearing... all the complications a normal person would've had. It could've been a lot worse. And he wasn't just thinking of brain damage or even dying. There were worse things than death in their line of work.

"Hey Sam?" he asked quietly, not certain if the younger man was still in the land of the conscious. He barely heard the half-awake murmured response. "What'd the fish say when he ran into the wall?"

Sam snorted into laughter despite his exhausted state. Dean chuckled behind him, relishing the sound. "I thought we burned that book?" Sam whined.

"Yeah ya did, but they've got them on the internet now," Dean announced excitedly, "and they even send you one a day if you give em your email address."

"That would explain the increase of spam you've been getting."

"It's worth it." Dean shrugged.

"You woke me up for a stupid joke of the day?"

"Actually I woke you up cuz I can't feel my ass anymore and its starting to worry me." Dean shifted higher up the wall, bending his legs a bit, trying to push his limp brother up a little.

"Heaven forbid your higher brain functions fall asleep on you."

Dean paused mid-movement, an evil smirk on his face. "Bitch." He jabbed his finger into his brother's side, a well-known ticklish spot on the young man. Despite his bone-tired state, Sam's body curled up, a surprised laugh escaping his throat. Dean took the opportunity to escape from behind the youngest Winchester, crouching beside him and catching his shoulders before he fell back to the ground. He pulled him forward, and wrapped an arm across his back, pulling his brothers arm across his shoulders.

"Dean…" Sam hesitated, "I don't know if this is such a good idea."

"Why not?" Dean asked, a little concerned.

"Because I can hardly move, and you're not exactly one-hundred percent right now either."

"Quit worrying," Dean brushed off his brother's concerns, "Lavern and Shirley'll be here any minute now." He braced his own aching muscles, ready to stand and gave his brother a confident look. "We'll be fine." He heaved himself up, pulling his brother's weight with him. To Dean's credit, they'd made it to a full-upright position… right before the upward motion turned into a forward motion and the floor came up to greet them. The brothers landed on their faces, and neither moved. The wing went quiet once more.

"You're an idiot." Sam grunted.

"You need to lose some damn weight." Dean defended. A cough here, a wince there… the annoying ticking of the clock on the wall filled the embarrassed silence.

"Any minute now huh?"

"Shut up."

TBC…