Actions speak louder
Chapter 12
By teal-lover
Summary: Sam meant what he said the asylum. So how can he ever convince the one person in his life that knows him better than anyone, otherwise?
Rating: PG13, T
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural in any way shape or form, and I don't get any money for this, this is purely entertainment…hopefully:)
AN: this was going to be the last chapter before the epilog, but then Missouri got to talking, and she just demanded a chapter all of her own:)
Anyway, it got too long, and the inevitable chick flick will be in the next chapter—to be posted in a couple of days, and then there will be a sequel.
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Missouri stood back laughing silently to herself at the boys typical teasing behavior. She covered her grin when Sam looked to her with mild amusement and asked her wordlessly, 'Is it too late to change my mind?'
Dean watched the interaction between the two and swallowed another grin. He would have liked to have heard whatever smart comment he was sure his brother made, but decided that it really wasn't important. All that mattered now was that Sam was back! He resisted the urge to let out a big whooping sound, but only because he knew that Sam would never let him live it down. He was just so thrilled that Sam was there—alive—awake—and annoyed. The perfect combination if Dean ever saw one.
He wandered over to the bed and watched as Sam's eyes followed him like a hawk. They trailed up and down his body worriedly and Dean realized that Sam was doing the exact same thing that he was currently doing—checking to make sure that the other was alright. He laid a hand on his shoulder, which seemed to ease the younger man and the tension left his body instantly.
Dean felt his own body relax with the contact and he couldn't help the thousand-watt smile he sent Sam's way, easily telling him without words how glad he was to have him back.
Sam returned the gesture until his brother's smile began to change. As soon as it took on that mischievous smirk, he narrowed his eyes and tried to figure out what the older man was up to.
He didn't have to wait long as Dean turned to the doctor, asking innocently while pointing to his brother. "Can it speak?"
Under normal circumstances, Sam would have reached out and punched his big brother in the arm—hard. But with his current weakened state, he sighed as he thought he would have to settle for a hardened glare. As luck would have it though, Missouri had no such weakness and demonstrated it when she cuffed Dean on the back of his head. "Dean, don't tease your brother."
Despite the tightness in his chest, Dean's grumbling was enough to elicit an outright laugh from Sam. The laughter soon brought on a coughing fit that had Sam doubling over in pain, spitting out a mouthful of red saliva.
Dean began to panic again when he saw this, but was brushed aside by the doctor before he could question it.
"Don't worry, Sam, this is quite normal. Your throat is extremely irritated, and there is probably some tearing from the breathing tube. It's going to be difficult to talk until that bit of swelling goes down too. All the same, I'd like to take a listen to your lungs to make sure that they're healing properly, and we should also change those bandages." The doctor addressed his patient's 'family', "Would you mind waiting outside for a little bit?"
Before the two could protest, Sam grabbed the doctors hand and nodded to his brother before shaking his head adamantly. The doctor sighed at his patient's clear indication that his brother was to stay. The woman however, nodded her understanding and went to stand outside the door.
Sam craned his head as his eyes followed Missouri out of the room. He was curious to find out who she was most definitely fussing at just past the doorway in a hushed whisper. Her finger pointed at the person wildly and he almost felt sorry for whoever was out there getting a verbal tongue lashing from the imposing woman. A nurse began closing the door, but just before it shut, Sam's heart beat wildly as he thought he saw a flash of familiar salt and pepper hair.
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Outside, Missouri shook her head and watched the eldest Winchester walk away again. "COWARD!" she called after him, ignoring the hospital staff staring as she did so. The stoic Winchester mask was firmly back in place now that the crisis was over, and he had no intention of allowing anyone else—least of all his children—to see his vulnerability. So he had fled, leaving her to pick up the pieces when she inevitably had to explain to his boys that he had abandoned them again.
How am I going to explain this one…
Twenty minutes later, she found that she didn't have to as Dean threw open the door excitedly. His face fell as he realized that his father was no where to be seen. That could only have meant one thing—he was gone, and wasn't coming back. 'Sam won't even have to know', he thought sadly. He turned slowly, donning the same mask that his father had just worn. "Uh, Sam—I'm sorry about that surprise, man. I was going to try and sneak you in some good food, but it looks like the nurses staff headed it off at the pass. But that's ok, you're on a liquid diet right now anyway."
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A short time later, fatigue quickly caught up with him and Sam reluctantly settled back down to sleep. His eyes had barely shut for a moment when he suddenly opened them back up and reached for his brother's hand.
Dean's shoulder's stiffened when he looked into Sam's eyes. The intense gaze told him that he remembered what they had been fighting about before he was shot. As much as Dean hated the idea of giving Sam one of his so called, 'chick-flick' moments, he himself wanted—no, needed—to understand all of this. He wasn't even sure if he was going to like what he heard. But after nearly loosing his brother, this was just one of those times where he couldn't just let it fade into the background and hope that it would go away.
"I'm sorry," Sam croaked out, or rather—tried to, but his voice just didn't seem to want to cooperate.
Sam held that wildly panicked look in his eyes, and Dean understood immediately what it meant. He was afraid that Dean would be angry with him again. "I'm not mad at you, Sam. Well—maybe a little. Get some sleep ok, and I promise—we'll talk about this later. You know kid, when you can actually speak?"
Breathing a sigh of relief, Sam closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.
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For the next three days, Dean carefully avoided any form of in-depth conversation with his brother, even after the doctor had come in and announced him barely fit enough to be released.
Missouri sat in the corner, thoroughly going over Sam's release papers. One line in the directions stood out and made her chuckle. No driving, it had instructed while under the heavy dose of painkillers. She thought back to the day before as she returned in the Impala after having retrieved it from the gas station. If she listened closely, she could probably still hear Dean's screech echoing through the hallway, "YOU DROVE MY CAR!"
A loud, indignant snort from him told her that he knew exactly what she was still laughing about. Who's the mind reader now? She mumbled in amusement.
Looking up, she noticed Sam fumbling with the buttons on his shirt as each breath he took seemed to sap the energy from him. Missouri was getting frustrated with the article of clothing and it wasn't even on her body. Walking over, she slapped his hand away while she unhooked the crooked ones and fixed them. She sighed loudly to answer the lopsided grin he gave her.
She fixed a pointed look at the elder brother, "You know, I'm not too keen on Sam checking out so soon. He's not fully recovered yet. And you haven't had any rest either."
"I know, but like dad's always said—never stay in one place for too long. We've been here almost a week now."
"You've stayed in places longer than that," she half argued.
"I know, Missouri. But never this long in places where I can't just whip out my gun and shoot things…"
The woman smirked at the childlike disappointment in his voice. She was betting that if he had been standing when he said it, he probably would have scuffed his feet on the floor too. "Ain't that a shame. Anyway, boys, I do have to be getting back home."
It was Sam that made the first move and wrapped his arms around the shorter woman. "Thanks for everything. Take care of yourself."
"Oh, you boys are going to drive me to the airport." Since Dean didn't protest anymore than a simple raised eyebrow, she added firmly, "And after you drop me off, the two of you can make your way to my house where you'll be staying until Sam is fully recovered. Lawrence is only a four hour drive from here, so I'll expect you there by nightfall. And I also expect that the two of you work out your differences before you get there. I don't want any fighting in my home."
Once again, Dean was left speechless as the stout little woman steamrolled right over him and flounced back down the hallway. He was still shaking his head in disbelief, pointedly ignoring the cheesy grin plastered on Sam's face when she stopped suddenly.
"Well, what are you waiting for? You already have your invitation."
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Dean roared the engine as Missouri climbed in the passenger front seat, immediately reaching for the dials of his radio. He shook his head incredulously, "Uh uh—"
"Shotgun picks the music—driver shuts his cakehole," she retorted with narrowing eyes, daring him to contradict her.
And this time, Sam did laugh.
TBC…