Author's Notes: I just want to say how much I've appreciated the reviews and private messages I've received. As some of you know, I got a dose of really negative feedback a while ago which threw my writing confidence straight down into the gutter (the reason why its been a couple of months since I've managed to get up the nerve to post anything here) so all the support has really inspired me to keep going. Thank you!
I'm also trying hard to not let superstition get to me (yes, I am superstitious, I won't even walk under a ladder). A while after posting the first chapter I logged into the site and looked to see how my story was going, and there had been 666 hits on it. Next time I checked, there were 969. Too scared now to look in case next time I see 999. I'm hoping there's not a bad omen there somewhere.
ooOoo
Chapter 2
Dean let the motel room door slam closed behind him. He fingered the car keys in his palm as he stood looking once again at his much loved Impala. The rain glistened against the paintwork, large drops running off the waxed surface with little resistance before joining the muddy puddles on the ground.
His eyes followed the slight scrape on her fender until they stopped and rested on the freshly damaged front, water pooling in the smashed head light and dripping off the mangled bumper. Seeing the damage resurrected memories of the last time he'd been forced to beat out the black metal panels, the wreck that preceded it and the anguish that followed. It was still too fresh - probably always would be.
The damage looked mainly cosmetic, but he turned away from the car, not yet ready to acknowledge the impact the wreckage had on him.
Pulling his jacket collar up, he headed down the street towards the convenience store - for the first time preferring to walk, regardless of the wind or rain.
ooOoo
Sam stood with his hands braced on the tiled wall in the cramped shower stall as the warm water rained down his back. The heat of the water was chasing away the chill from the weather, but the effort of remaining standing was slowly sapping away his remaining strength and he felt more than ready to lie down.
He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply against the escalating pain radiating out from his mid section. So not good, he thought, as he wrapped an arm around his waist, probing the tender flesh which was already starting to darken with an array of bruises. His whole side hurt like hell.
Quickly abandoning any thoughts of a prolonged shower, he stepped out and grabbed a fresh towel, drying himself off before discarding the damp towel onto the floor. Bending down to retrieve his clean clothes was a test of pain tolerance, but he managed it with barely a whisper, selecting to pull on comfortable sweats and a t-shirt in favor of his usual jeans and shirt.
All things considered, he reckoned it wasn't too early to hit the sack.
His brother was noticeably absent when he entered the bedroom and Sam felt a little of the tension leave him as he realised that he wouldn't be the subject of his brother's scrutiny. A wet, hungry brother with a smashed car was a potentially volatile combination and he wasn't really feeling up to dealing with it right now. If Dean was taking a bit of extra time out to cool off then that was fine by him.
He lowered himself onto the bed like an old man, careful not to jar his bruised body. He pulled up the covers, letting his body collapse against the sagging mattress.
He hurt.
He tried to will his body to sleep, but surrounded by silence and with limited distractions he could no longer deny the ache throbbing through his body. It marched in time with his heartbeat and either his pain threshold was falling or the pain was steadily increasing. In the back of his mind he knew it was the later, but refused to contemplate exactly what that meant. He drew his knees up closer into his body and took slow careful breaths, trying to breathe through the pain – just like he'd been taught.
ooOoo
After pulling a few pre-packaged food items off the shelves Dean joined the back of the long line, waiting to pay for his meager purchases.
Maybe it wasn't all bad, he thought, as he watched a pretty blonde restock some of the lower shelves.
"Service in this place sucks." The impatient teenager in front of him complained to everyone within hearing distance.
Dean ignored the teen and continued to watch the blonde.
"Will you hurry the fuck up, I ain't got all night," the teenager shifted his weight from foot to foot expressing his intolerance at the speed of the harried service staff.
"It's been a busy afternoon," the blonde stated catching Dean's eye.
"Yeah, quite a crowd." Dean replied, an easy smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"And you missed out on all the action." She smiled back.
"Action?" Dean queried.
"Yeah, truck came careening down the hill earlier, brakes screeching, riding the guard rails. Thought for a sec it might plow straight into the shop." She placed the last few items of stock on to the shelf and stood up.
"Sounds like you were lucky." Dean let his eyes drift across her slim figure.
She smiled. "Yeah, maybe not so lucky for the driver of that black car …don't think I've ever seen anyone move that fast."
"Not fast enough." Dean muttered under his breath.
"You're telling me. I swear I can still hear the sound he made when the car hit him. Hard to believe anyone could just walk away from that." She gave a visible shudder at the memory.
"What do you mean?" Dean felt a chill run through his body as his mind turned to thoughts of his brother – mentally trying to remember exactly how Sam had looked when he'd returned to the motel room.
"Wouldn't even go to the hospital from what I hear. Just got back in the car and drove away like nothing happened. Can you believe that?" Her voice died out as she watched Dean dump his purchases on an empty shelf before racing out of the store.
ooOoo
Sam must have drifted off into a light sleep. He wasn't sure how much time passed until his brother burst back into the room bringing with him a blast of cold air. Dean made no attempt to mask the racket he made on his return, letting the door slam back into place when it caught a gust of wind.
Sam opened his bleary eyes and tried to push himself up a little in the bed. Not his best idea.
"Sam, you're a lying bastard." Dean announced, stepping around the bed as he ran a hand through his drenched hair and wiped the water off his face.
"Dean? I don't know what -" Sam whispered, wrapping and arm across his abdomen as he tried to prop himself up a little more to look at his brother.
"Don't give me that bullshit; you know exactly what I'm talking about. So; when the hell were you planning on telling me the truth - and not just your condensed version of what happened?" Dean didn't bother trying to mask his indignation as he stood at the side of the bed and glared down at Sam.
"I -" Hot agony radiated through Sam's abdomen and he clenched his teeth together, unable to prevent the moan of pain from escaping. He let his body rest back into the mattress as he tried to breathe through the pain.
"Sam?" Any thoughts about the half truths Sam had spieled off earlier or the damaged Impala deserted him when he took a good close look at his brother. Sam looked like crap. He wondered whether he'd been too wrapped up in the damaged car to notice.
Dean didn't bother to seek permission before taking hold of the edge of Sam's t-shirt and pushing it up his chest until it bunched under his armpits. He didn't need to search for an injury site, it was vividly pronounced against the otherwise pale skin of his brother's side and abdomen, disappearing beneath the edge of his sweat pants. Already the bruising was darkening to a deep purple and the area was raised and swollen.
Dean placed a flat palm against the bruising, feeling the heat radiating from the traumatized skin. Using his fingers in a gentle sweeping motion he probed across Sam's side and abdomen, trying to assess the extent of the injury.
"Dean I, I'm…" Sam swallowed against the nausea rising up his throat, trying to delay the inevitable.
"Sam?" Dean's fingers stilled as his concern stepped up a notch.
"Oh god." Sam groaned, wrapping an arm tighter around his stomach. "I'm gonna be…" Sam clamped his hand over his mouth.
He didn't see Dean move, but he was pulled to the edge of the bed and a trash bin was thrust under his face. A firm hand held onto the back of his neck as his head hung over the side of the bed and he could just make out Dean's soothing repetitive words over the pounding in his head.
Saliva pooled in his mouth and he swallowed a few more times, fighting a losing battle against the nausea.
ooOoo
Dean held the trash bin steady for his brother but turned his head away, trying to block out the sound and smell of his brother's retching. Even though he'd been by Sam's side many times over the years when his brother had been sick, it didn't get any easier, and he had to fight his body's instinct to start retching in sympathy.
When the bout of vomiting was over, Dean looked back at Sam, taking in his features, from the sweat glistening on his forehead to his paper white skin. As Sam leaned back against the headboard, he moved the rancid bin away from the bed, unintentionally glancing at the contents.
Blood.
ooOoo
Sam felt drained, his body completely exhausted as he leant his body against the headboard, needing the support to keep himself upright. God, he hated being sick, and any movement was just causing him more pain. He hadn't felt this bad when he'd been lying flat and still and he wanted nothing more than to sink back down into the oblivion of sleep.
He let his eyes drift closed as he struggled to hold on to consciousness.
"God dammit Sam, why didn't you tell me you were hurt this bad?" Dean tried to mask the worry from his voice.
"Didn't hurt that bad before." Sam opened his eyes a fraction to look at his brother.
"As opposed to what?" Dean demanded, pulling down the bed covers and hooking an arm behind his brother's back, readying to haul him up. "We're going to the hospital."
"But -" Sam started.
"No 'buts' Sam, we're going. Not up for discussion." Dean helped swing Sam's legs off the bed and on to the floor and prop him in to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "Christ Sam, if you weren't such a stubborn bastard we'd be there already."
Sam knew his bother was right about the hospital. Something was definitely wrong, he realized that now - he could feel it.
His bare toes curled into the carpet. "I need some shoes." Sam muttered.
Sam rested his hands on the mattress as he tried to find some purchase in the undulating room. He watched as Dean moved away and retrieved a dry pair of shoes and socks from his duffel bag and belatedly realized that he was only wearing sweats and a t-shirt.
"And my jeans Dean." Sam pleaded when he saw Dean make to move away with just the socks and shoes.
Dean glanced back to the bed. "Christ, out of all the times to be vain you have to pick now." Dean grumbled even as he pulled out the requested item of clothing plus a warm jacket. "If I didn't know you'd catch pneumonia just to prove a point I wouldn't even bother with the shoes."
Sam let his eyes fall shut again as he concentrated on breathing through the pain and nausea. He tasted the acid tang of blood on his tongue.
He felt like a child again as he let his brother help him on with the jeans and jacket, before sitting complacently as Dean put the socks and shoes on his feet. At the back of his mind he knew he'd be in for some heavy ribbing sometime in the future, but right now he couldn't bring himself to care.
"You ready now?" Dean asked as he rose from his crouched position by the bed. Sam's increasing lethargy was starting to alarm him and he wasn't keen to delay any longer.
Sam gave a small nod, keeping his mouth firmly closed as his stomach continued to churn.
His body tensed in anticipation as he felt Dean's grip on him tighten before he felt himself being pulled upwards. He opened his eyes as he tried to adjust to being fully vertical, made more difficult as the room spun around him and he swayed into the solid support of his brother.
"Okay?" Dean fisted Sam's t-shirt in one hand and kept one hand under Sam's shoulder. Sam still swayed in place and Dean knew that without a prop he'd fall straight back down.
"Dizzy." Sam mumbled, his head slumping to rest against Dean's shoulder as he struggled to remain vertical.
"Think you can make it to the car?" The distance was short, but a long way for him to carry an unconscious Sam.
Sam clutched onto Dean's jacket for support as he fought against the dizziness. He raised his head and looked at his brother, a look of confusion fleeting across his face. "I crashed the car Dean."
"That's a load of crap and you know it Sam." Dean asserted as he cemented his grip on Sam, preparing to move them.
Dean supported nearly all of his brother's weight as they staggered towards the door.
ooOoo
Author's note: I actually wanted to wrap this story up in two chapters, but it looks like there's more to come - inspired by the lovely reviews. Next chapter is already started – all going well, it should be posted in a couple of days or so.
Reviews are love.