Sam pushed his untouched plate of salad away. Apart from the fact that the hospital managed to screw up a plate of uncooked vegetables, it was hard to stomach anything when he knew that Dean was lying unconscious upstairs.
It has only been one hour since Dean had came out of his life-saving surgery. After being told that Dean was not going to be waking up before morning, Sam decided to grab something to eat in the cafeteria before his overnight watch over his brother.
After giving up on his dinner entirely, Sam trudged up the steps towards the wards, where there was an uncomfortable plastic chair with his name on it. Fatigued by the events of the day, Sam pushed open the door to Dean's room and fell into his chair with a thud.
And damn that chair was hard.
"Sammy"
"You're awake!" All of Sam's lethargy melted away at the sound of his brother's voice.
Dean still had his eyes closed when he replied, "Looks like."
"They said you won't be awake until morning," Sam commented.
Dean was looking much better than he had back at the mall, thanks to the blood transfusions. In spite of the infamous Winchester luck, the bullets had managed to miss all of Dean's vital organs.
"Well they don't know who they're talking about," Dean started to sit up, "Owww."
"Dude, what are you doing?" Sam gave an exasperated sigh.
Dean only went as far as propping himself up with his elbows.
"How bad is it?"
"Hmm? Not too bad. You'll be out here in a few days, the bullets didn't hit any-"
"No, not me. How bad is it?" Dean licked his chapped lips, "at the mall."
Sam busied himself with pouring water into the plastic cup. He had expected to be asked this question ever since he knew that Dean was going to be fine. And a part of him was hoping that Dean never bothered to ask.
Sam stuck a straw in the cup and brought it to Dean, still pondering over the best way to break the news.
"Sam?"
"A lot of people were injured...mostly in the stampede which resulted. And..."
"And what?" Dean pressed after taking a long sip.
"Twenty-five civilians died."
"Twenty-five," Dean whispered.
The number left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Dean," Sam was giving him the kicked-puppy look.
Dean could not help but feel like it was partly on him. He was right there, outside the room, where all the shooters were. Past-him would not even have hesitated to barge into the room guns blazing, but now...
"We saved a lot more people from dying today, Dean."
"Yeah well, I could have done more, but I was..."
Dean was scared. He was afraid to die, and be turned into a monster again. That was why he hesitated, why he hid in the shadows instead.
But it was all over now, and there was no point in crying over spilled milk. With the amount of milk he had been spilling all over the floor lately, Dean was surprised that he had not drowned himself in milk yet.
"What about the shooters?" Dean asked.
Sam looked glad at the change of topic, "Two were shot dead by the police, three others were apprehended. Their leader was shot dead by the sheriff when he tried to flee and of course, you killed Sommers."
Good, that was good.
"Time to bail? I mean, the shooting must have gotten the real FBI involved and all..." Dean started to get up again, more slowly this time around.
It was not his first time getting shot, but it had been a long time since the last one. He forgot how much moving hurts, even with the morphine coursing through his veins at the moment. Dean just wanted to get this part over and done with, so that he could sleep in the car while Sam drives them home.
"Dean, it's okay. We're good. Just get some rest, I'll be here."
"Really?"
Dean really did not feel like going anywhere at the moment.
"Yes, really. I've taken care of it," Sam had a smug look on his face.
Alright then, if Sam said so.
Sam waited until Dean's face evened out in sleep before sinking back down into the chair.
"Everything will be fine Dean; you'll be fine."
THE END
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Y'all!
Hoped you've enjoyed this short story about our favourite pair of brothers on TV.
-Kel