Dean had never not enjoyed being in his beloved car but he had to admit, even if only to himself, he had never been so glad to reach a motel in all his life. It had taken every bit of concentration he had not to throw up all over his baby's interior – he felt there should be some sort of medal for that fact alone.
He'd tried closing his eyes when they first started moving but he quickly discovered that just made it worse. Looking out of the window was really not an option, so in the end he'd focused on a small spot on his jeans and concentrated on breathing as shallowly as possible. He was still aware, in the periphery of his vision, of Sam glancing across at him every 5 seconds. He would have told him to watch the road but given the fact Sam was driving slower than most old ladies right now, it was unlikely there was any chance of them hitting anything anyway.
Plus he'd have been wasting his breath. Sam was in full fledged 'hover' mode and Dean knew he was just gonna have to suck it up and live with it. At least until he could stand up on his own.
He really hoped that would be any minute now.
Sam hadn't thought Dean could get any paler but by the time they pulled into the Motel's parking lot his brother was practically transparent. He stopped as gently as possible and switched off the engine.
"We're here." he said and Dean shifted his head very slowly to look up at Sam.
"And here I was thinking it was gonna be at least another day before we got back." he said dryly.
Sam frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" he said and Dean smirked.
"Dude, you were overtaken by Grannies back there." he said and Sam huffed.
"I was trying to be nice so you didn't end up passing out and sliding into the footwell. Next time I won't bother."
Dean looked indignant. "I do not pass out. I'm not a girl." he said.
Sam opened the door and got out, muttering under his breath about leaving Dean in the car for the rest of the day."
Dean had managed to push himself up so he wasn't resting on the door anymore and when Sam opened it he swung his legs round till his feet were on the floor.
At least he assumed that must be the floor. He still wasn't entirely sure just which way was up right now.
Insults about driving forgotten, Sam crouched down and put his hands on Dean's shoulders to steady him.
"You ready?" he said softly and Dean managed a brief nod. Putting his hands on Sam's forearms and gripping hard enough to leave marks, he took a deep breath and with Sam's help stood up.
He swallowed convulsively a couple of times and Sam said nothing, just waiting patiently until Dean was ready to attempt moving. Eventually Dean managed to look up and focus on Sam's face.
"So are we going in or are you planning on standing out here all day?" he said, as if it had been Sam who wasn't ready to move yet.
Sam rolled his eyes and moved so that he was next to Dean. Putting his arm around Dean's shoulders he waited until Dean had put his arm round his back and was gripping Sam's jacket.
Using the same weaving walk they had when they left the hospital, they crossed the short distance to the Motel room. Sam unlocked the door, pushed it open with one hand and once inside eased Dean down on his bed gently.
Dean lay down instantly, feeling like he'd just run a marathon rather than walking a couple of hundred yards. Sam dropped the keys on the table, closed the door and turned back to his brother. Dean was vaguely aware of Sam taking off his boots and somehow getting him out of his jacket without moving him too much, but he felt too awful to even protest.
He really, really did want someone to shoot him right now.
He must have drifted off at some point because when he next opened his eyes the room was darker and one of the bedside lamps was switched on. He could hear tapping on a keyboard and when he slowly moved his head to one side, waiting briefly for the room to catch up, he saw Sam sat at the table working away on the laptop.
"Hey." he said, surprised at how croaky his voice sounded.
Sam's head snapped up as he heard Dean's voice and he grinned when he saw his brother looking at him.
"Hey. How you feeling?" he said and Dean half shrugged.
"I don't feel like throwing up so that's a start." he said and Sam chuckled.
"Yeah. You hungry?"
Dean thought about it. Now he wasn't feeling nauseous for 5 minutes his stomach was growling a little.
"I think I could eat." he said and Sam nodded.
"Alright. I'll go get us something and I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, ok?" he said giving Dean a warning look and Dean raised his eyebrows since eye rolling was still out.
"Sam, I can't even stand up straight – where the hell do you think I'm going to go?" he said.
Seemingly satisfied Sam stood up, grabbed his jacket, and with a final glance back at his brother headed out.
Dean lay there looking at the piece of sky he could see through window. Although the day was overcast and cloudy, looking like it was about to rain any second, it did seem pretty dark for morning and Dean reached out slowly and managed to pick up his watch which Sam had left on the bedside cabinet. When it eventually came into focus Dean was surprised to see it was already 3 o'clock in the afternoon. He hadn't realised he'd slept for that long, but he guessed it was his body's way of telling him he needed the rest. He wondered if Sam had been sat there the whole time. Knowing his brother he had.
Dean mentally shook his head – Sam must be starving by now.
He decided to try sitting up, which was when he noticed that aside from being under the blankets he was also now in sweatpants instead of the jeans he'd left the hospital in. He flushed a little as he realised Sam must have got him changed and put him to bed properly after he'd fallen asleep. He smiled – it was kind of nice actually.
Although they were so never bringing it up in conversation. Ever.
Pushing the thought aside, he dragged himself up until he was resting against the headboard. The room was still tilting at a weird angle but the complete dizziness and urge to throw up had definitely eased. Dean found himself hoping this was a good sign, that it meant the vertigo was starting to clear up already. The doctor had said that sometimes it could last for as little as a week after the initial injury.
As he sat there he suddenly realised he needed the bathroom.
Great.
Well, he had two options – wait for Sam to come back and hope he wasn't too long, or risk the trip himself. He looked over at the bathroom door.
It wasn't that far. And he wouldn't technically be going anywhere, since he'd still be in the Motel room.
Decision made he took a deep breath and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat there blinking, as for a brief moment he wasn't sure once again which way was up. He sighed. This was really getting old.
Satisfied at last that the room had stopped spinning about as much as it was going to, Dean took one more deep breath and stood up.
It didn't feel like he was falling. In fact it didn't feel like he'd moved at all. But clearly he had, as he was now face down on the carpet getting a fantastic view underneath Sam's bed.
Several things occurred to him.
Firstly, they really needed to run a vacuum round under the beds. There were dust bunnies under there that looked older than him. Secondly, he so did not want to know what was on this carpet, especially now he was getting an up close and personal view of it. He was going to shower for a week when he eventually got up. And of course last, but by no means least, he was stuck. On the floor. In a heap.
Sam was gonna be so pissed when he got back.
Oh yeah – and he still needed the bathroom.
Unaware of Dean's current predicament, Sam was waiting patiently at the Diner just down the road. He'd probably ordered far too much food but he figured they could always eat some of it cold later. From his own point of view he was more than ready to eat, and he knew Dean hadn't had anything since lunchtime the previous day. Plus of course he'd thrown up everything since the vertigo had kicked in anyway.
Conscious of Dean's current unstable digestive system Sam avoided the usual greasy favourites and had instead ordered fairly plain roast chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans. He'd got some bread rolls too and some apple pie for later, in case the first part of the meal went well. He knew Dean wouldn't be too pleased with the healthy options but he'd thank him later. Maybe. At least he was bringing pie.
It took about 10 minutes for the order to be ready and Sam found himself looking at his watch anxiously. He really wasn't happy about having left Dean alone and the longer it was, the more worried he got. It wasn't that he didn't trust his brother, but he knew full well they both had different ideas about what was best when it came to Dean's health. Add to that the streak of Winchester stubbornness and you had a frustrating combination.
Hearing his number called, Sam stepped up to the counter, took the bag with a smile and quickly headed back to the Impala. By the time he pulled up in front of the room again he'd been gone about 20 minutes altogether. He opened the door, closed it behind him and turned round.
The first thing he noticed was that Dean's bed was empty. He felt his stomach flip – he knew he should never have left.
"Dean!" he called out, dumping the bag of food on the table without even looking.
"Right here, Sam." came a weary voice from between the two beds.
Frowning in confusion Sam took a couple of steps and suddenly his brother came into view, lying face down between the beds, hands splayed on the floor as if he was holding on.
Sam stood there torn between concern and anger. Anger won out for the moment.
"What the hell happened?" he demanded and Dean sighed.
Here we go he thought.
"What the hell do you think happened, Sam? I liked the carpet so much I wanted a better view." he said.
Sam wasn't in the mood for Dean's sarcasm right now though.
"That's hilarious, Dean, really. What did I ask you to do, huh? What did you promise me before I left? That you were gonna stay put! Why can't you just for once do as I ask?"
Sam's yelling really wasn't helping the headache that was taking up residence behind in Dean's skull, nor was it improving Dean's mood any.
"I didn't promise anything and besides, I didn't actually go anywhere – I'm still right here in case you hadn't noticed!" he said, his own voice rising now.
"Oh sure, argue the details why don't you? The point is you got out of bed even though you knew it was a bad idea, even though I asked you not to, and look what happened! What if you'd hit your head again? What if you'd broken your neck for God's sake? I was only gone 20 minutes, what was so important you couldn't wait for me to get back?" he demanded.
"First off, I didn't hit my head although your yelling at me is really not helping by the way, and secondly – break my neck? Could you be a little more dramatic, Sammy? I don't need a babysitter you know."
Sam threw his hands up in frustration. "Right. I'm sorry, I had this dumb idea I was actually helping. Silly me." he said, sounding hurt now as well as angry.
Dean winced. Perfect. This really was going so well.
"You know do you think we could maybe debate this with me in a more comfortable position? I lie on this carpet any longer I think it's gonna bond with me." he said and Sam felt a stab of guilt. He really should have helped Dean up first and yelled second.
Saying nothing he reached down and took hold of Dean's shoulders. He lifted him gently, despite the fact he was still mad and they were absolutely not done with the conversation, and helped him sit back on the bed.
Dean felt everything tilt again and held onto Sam's arms even though this was not helping his point about not needing a babysitter. He suspected it would help his case even less if he slid off the bed and right back onto the floor.
When he was sure he wasn't going to fall again he transferred his grip to the edge of the bed and looked up at Sam, squinting slightly.
Yep. That was the expression he'd been expecting. The one that made Sam look like he'd just chewed something that moved.
"Well?" said Sam, once he was sure Dean was upright and going to stay that way for now at least.
"Well what?" said Dean and Sam counted to 10 silently as he reminded himself he wasn't allowed to hit his brother round the head. Yet.
"Can you not do as I ask for 5 minutes? I'm trying to help you here, Dean, why must you always make that so difficult? It's not a weakness to let someone take care of you, especially when that someone is me! I'm your brother, Dean, it's what I'm here for – when are you going to get that through your thick skull?" he said, frustration colouring every word.
Dean raised an eyebrow at the thick skull comment but said nothing. He had a feeling there was more to come and he wasn't disappointed.
"I'm asking you to let yourself heal properly – is that such a bad thing? Just promise me you are going to stay there and let me take care of things. Can you do that?" said Sam, almost pleading now.
"Not right now, no." said Dean and Sam glared at him.
"Why not?"
"Because, dumb ass, I still need the bathroom!" said Dean.
Sam blinked then looked embarrassed.
"Oh. Right. Sorry." he said sheepishly and Dean actually did risk an eyeroll this time, even though it was akin to taking a bend on a roller coaster.
Helping Dean up again Sam guided him towards the bathroom, reaching out to flick on the light for him. Once they reached the door Dean put his hand on the doorframe and shrugged Sam's arm off his shoulders.
"Do you need.." began Sam but Dean cut him off.
"Sam, I swear to God, you even think about suggesting helping me go to the bathroom." he said warningly. "I've been managing that myself since I was 3 years old."
"You had better balance when you were 3 years old."
Dean glared at him.
"Fine – but don't lock the door." said Sam.
"For crying out loud." muttered Dean but Sam put his hand on the door, preventing Dean going any further.
"I mean it. You take a dive again I don't want to have to waste time kicking the door in. Unless you want to go by drowning in a toilet?" he said innocently and Dean looked horrified.
"Dude, that's gross!" he said and Sam couldn't help but grin.
"Fine! I won't lock the door." said Dean sounding anything but happy about it. If they stood here debating the matter much longer it was gonna be embarrassing for both of them.
Satisfied, Sam moved his hand and watched as Dean staggered into the room, holding onto the walls to stop himself falling. He kicked the door shut behind him, narrowly missing Sam who pulled his head back just in time. Sam stood there for a second just to make sure he didn't hear the lock click into place.
When it didn't, he moved away to give Dean some privacy and went over to the table to sort out the food. He shrugged off his jacket, throwing it over the back of the chair, and took the cartons out. He opened them up, laid out the knives and forks and opened the bottles of water he'd decided were the safest option.
He heard the toilet flush and a few moments later the sound of running water. When the door didn't open after that he frowned and was just about to stand up anyway when he heard Dean call his name.
Crossing the room in three strides he opened the door and saw his brother sitting there on the edge of the bath, his knuckles white as he gripped it and his head hanging down.
"Dean?" said Sam softly, crouching in front of him and putting his hands on Dean's knees.
Dean opened his eyes and looked down into Sam's concerned gaze.
"I think I need a hand." he said quietly, hating that he had to ask for help even if it was from Sam.
Sam said nothing, knowing that was the best approach, and instead stood up and put his arm round Dean's shoulders again. With Sam's help Dean stood but things shifted and he found himself tilting forward again. This time though instead of falling he ended up leaning against something warm and solid. He realised he was leaning his forehead against Sam's shoulder and he stayed there, feeling too weary and miserable to pull away like he would usually.
Sam ached to see Dean suffering like this and he brought his hand up so it was resting against the back of Dean's neck, steadying himself so he could take some of his brother's weight for a moment.
"Did I mention how much this sucks?" said Dean tiredly, his voice slightly muffled by Sam's shirt.
Sam smiled. "Once or twice." he said and Dean snorted.
"Good. I'd hate not to have made that point really clear." he said.
Sam gave him a moment, content to stand there as long as necessary. Eventually Dean mentally shook himself, squared his shoulders, and pulled back. Sam moved his hand from Dean's neck to his shoulder and kept it there to steady him.
"Ready?" he said and Dean nodded carefully.
"Yeah." he said.
As Sam helped him back into the other room he was hit by the smell of food. His stomach growled loudly and Sam chuckled.
"Hey, I haven't eaten since yesterday." said Dean a little defensively, and Sam laughed even more.
"Good job I brought plenty of food then isn't it?" he said, sounding amused.
"Think you're up to sitting at the table?" he said and Dean risked a sideways glance at him.
"No, I wanna lie in bed and have you spoon feed me." he said.
"You know 'yes' would have covered it just fine." said Sam, as he pulled out one of the chairs and kept hold of Dean's shoulder until he was certain his brother was sitting securely.
Dean gripped the edge of the table for a moment, but he found if he was careful not to move his head too fast he could lean on the table and just about stay upright. At least he couldn't fall over sitting down.
He realised Sam was still standing next to him and risked letting go with one hand long enough to whack him lightly on the arm.
"Would you stop hovering and sit down?" he said and Sam rolled his eyes as he pulled out the other chair and sat down opposite him.
Dean looked down at the food in front of him and took a deep breath, sighing appreciatively at the aroma. It may not be a burger but he had to admit it looked home cooked and it smelled fantastic. Easing both hands off the table carefully he picked up the knife and fork. Hoping this wasn't about to land him face down in his food he started to cut the chicken with slow movements. Once it was in pieces he put the knife down and used his now empty hand to hold on to the table again. He could now pick up the food with just the fork and he felt relatively stable.
He glanced up to see Sam watching him. His brother immediately ducked his head and picked up his own cutlery, attempting to look like he hadn't been staring. Dean smirked.
"Really good call there, Sammy, not offering to cut up my food for me." he said.
Sam looked up again and saw the smirk. He shook his head.
"Please – like I really wanted a fork in the eye." he said and Dean actually laughed out loud at that.
For the next few minutes there was a comfortable silence as they both ate their food hungrily. Dean was pleasantly surprised to find that his stomach didn't seem averse to this and he was actually sorry when he'd finished.
Brushing crumbs from his fingers having finished the last of his roll, he reached out and picked up the bottle of water. He took a sip and grimaced, and Sam sighed.
"It's better for your stomach than coffee or anything fizzy." he said and Dean just looked unimpressed.
Sam ignored the look and stood up, clearing away the now empty containers. Sitting back down again he reached in the bag and took out the last two containers. Dean looked at him quizzically and Sam found himself grinning like an idiot as he put one down in front of him and opened it, practically with a flourish.
The look of sheer delight on Dean's face was both comical and endearing, as far as Sam was concerned anyway. Although he was never going to say that out loud, at least not in Dean's earshot.
Eagerly picking up the fork Sam offered him Dean broke off a large piece of pie and literally shovelled it in his mouth. He closed his eyes, a blissful look on his face.
Sam shook his head and opened his own container, taking a considerably smaller bit of pie.
Dean opened his eyes and broke off another piece.
"I take it all back, Sammy – you're the best brother in the world." he said and Sam just grinned in amusement.
"Yeah, yeah." he said but secretly he was pleased he'd thought to pick up the pie to go with their food. It was always the little things that seemed to mean most to Dean and Sam was happy as ever when he was able to do something nice for his brother.
Dean wolfed down the pie in minutes and he leant back in his chair, washing it down with the last of the water. It was funny how just the fact that Sam had thought to bring him pie made it taste that much nicer.
He winced.
Ok, he was so putting that down to the head injury.
He took a final gulp of water and wondered how long it would be before he could persuade Sam to let him have some coffee.
"I take it you enjoyed all that?" said Samy dryly, clearing away the last of the rubbish and the now empty bottles.
Dean grinned. "You know me, I always enjoy pie." he said,feeling better already.
He yawned suddenly and Sam came back over to stand next to him.
"Maybe you should get some more sleep." he said and Dean held up a hand.
"I already slept, Sam. I don't need an afternoon nap." he said indignantly.
"Well at least sit back on the bed then." said Sam and Dean had no objection to that.
Once Sam had helped him over to it Dean sat down and scooted back so he was leaning against the headboard. He made sure he was in the middle of the bed so there was less chance of sliding off in an ungainly heap if his balance suddenly went again.
Sam put on the TV and handed Dean the remote. He sat down on his own bed, picking up a magazine he'd bought a few days ago and hadn't had a chance to read yet. He glanced up, seeing Dean had settled on some horror movie that he couldn't remember the name of. He shook his head at the totally unconvincing creature chasing a screaming blonde across the screen and went back to reading.
A couple of hours later he looked up at the sound of music and saw the end credits were scrolling across the screen. He was about to ask Dean why he insisted on watching something that was so bad and that he'd seen before when he saw his brother was asleep.
Sam smiled to himself, wondering how much of the film Dean had actually seen. He got up quietly and took the remote out of Dean's lax grip, turning off the TV. He adjusted the pillow so it was in a better position and managed to pull the blanket from under Dean so that he could cover him with it. Dean mumbled but didn't wake up, and Sam looked at him for a moment affectionately. He was glad things seemed to be improving, albeit slowly, and he was hopeful that Dean might be one of the lucky ones who's affliction lasted days and not months.
Glancing at his watch he saw it was just after 6 o'clock. It was dark outside because of the low rain clouds and he walked across to the window and pulled the curtains shut, glancing out briefly to make sure the Impala was ok.
He shook his head. Now he was channelling Dean.
Going back to his bed he stifled a yawn. He tried to read again but his eyes felt too heavy. Maybe Dean had the right idea, he reflected. They'd been on the hunt for the last few days and then Sam had only slept fitfully at the hospital the night before so he was pretty exhausted himself.
Getting changed quickly into sweatpants he got under the covers and turned out the light. He'd just grab a couple of hours.
Within minutes the only sound in the room was the quiet breathing of both Winchesters.