** Ho-no! I didn't mean/want to maim/cripple the man! So let's accept that medical facts have been twisted for the purpose of this story. Hmmmm, I'm gonna run with that. ***
"Dammit." Sam let Dean's weight take him to the floor, wanting to break his fall. Suzie wisely crawled out to the hallway where she sat on the floor with her back against the wall, one hand holding her throat as she recovered, not once taking her eyes from them.
Sam was beyond pissed, he was incensed. Dean had not only left him and played loose in a town where he'd been arrested; he'd also been hurt and was keeping shit from him. Some girl Sam had never heard of before had called him; a girl Dean obviously knew well enough to trust and leave Sam to go to. Sam did not like it. He tamped down the memories that insisted on teasing him about what he had done in the past and focused on controlling his anger as he turned his attention to the body sprawled in his arms.
Twisting around, he attempted to snag one of the wash cloths that had fallen from the bed. He cursed when Dean remained limp and heavy across his lap, forced to acknowledge that once again, his brother was unconscious and unlikely to rouse on his own anytime soon.
"Here." Suzie scrambled around the intertwined pair on the floor, retrieved the cloths and held them out to Sam. "Sam."
"Don't." Sam ordered. "Don't talk to me. There's nothing you can say that will make this right." he'd had enough, wouldn't, couldn't take any more. He didn't want anything from her, not her explanations, not her help, not even if it benefited Dean.
"Let me explain…." she tried, jumping as he snatched the wash cloths from her hand.
"Yeah, I want an explanation." Sam groused as he maneuvered himself onto his hip, hands wrapping the cloths around Dean's wrist. Not even the pain from the rough handling brought Dean awake. "But not from you. I don't want to hear anything you have to say." he'd failed to gain control of his anger and anger was an emotion he welcomed. Letting his anger roam free would allow him to get answers he wanted and from Dean they would come, one way or another.
"Let me help you get him..."
"Don't touch him." Sam shifted his weight around until he was sitting on his knees. "Get out, go away, go to Egypt, go to hell, just go the fuck away."
"You're upset." she stated, hands help up in a placating gesture.
"You think?" he snapped sarcastically with a grunt. Dean was far heavier than Sam remembered. Course, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had to pick him up and carry him any distance on his own. Suzie had helped him get Dean into the house when they'd found him out in the yard. "Just get out of my sight."
"Sam, I didn't do this to him, I don't know who did. I can help you...for his sake, let me..."
"You just…..you need to go away, 'cause I'm not doing so good holding it together."
"Okay, ok…" she knew when to retreat. She knew Sam didn't trust her but she hadn't realized he was possessive. "But I'm not leaving, I'll be out in the kitchen…just…if you need any help, call me, okay?" she wasn't sure about allowing Sam to have control of the situation but until Dean was awake and sensible enough to talk to him, she felt it wise not to confront Sam.
Sam didn't answer; he just wanted her away from him and nowhere near Dean. He would deal with who she was later; right now he was going to find out any and all injuries his brother had, even if he had to apply physical force to do it. Turned out he didn't need to, Dean didn't even so much as skip a breath during Sam's less than gentle perusal of his unconscious self.
Using his free hand, he maneuvered Dean's head onto his knee and thumbed open one eyelid at a time, searching for unequal pupils. Rather late to be doing that, but it made Sam feel better. Dean continued to remain unresponsive, allowing Sam to manhandle him however he wanted as Sam pushed and poked and prodded in search of any other injuries.
"Okay." Sam was finally satisfied that other than his wrists, which had him worried, his back, which was superficial, and an apparent head injury, which he still didn't know the extent of, there were no other injuries to his brother that required attention. Time for a shower. Hot water and soap would cause his back to sting like a bitch, but cleaning those scrapes and cuts and brush burns had to be done, might as well start by washing the worst of the dirt and grime off in the shower.
First things first, wake him up. Sam looked down and just like that, his mental state shifted yet again and he slumped, anger gone. He eased off his knees and went down on his ass, Dean still in his arms and across his lap. Was there really any need to put his brother back to bed or force him into a shower just yet? What would it hurt to remain on the floor until he woke up on his own? Who would dare question why he was doing so? Dean? He wouldn't even know what he was doing on the floor. Suzie? Not if she was fond of her teeth and wanted to keep them all.
Oh yeah, well, there was one problem. That would be the warm wetness of blood that oozed through Sam's fingers that clenched a cloth around Dean's wrist. Well, that was his fault, he'd been the one to yank the gauze off, not expecting the extent of damage he'd found.
"Dean, hey, come on, wake up…Dean?"
Dean felt the light slap against his cheek, heard the coaxing lilt to the most familiar voice in the world to him. A voice he'd been conditioned to respond too. Knew who it was who was attempting to wake him up but also knew from experience that if he ignored the gentle persuasion, the attempts would quit and he would be left alone. He was comfortable where he was and waking up would result in pain and discomfort, so this was one time Sam would have to deal with his disappointment.
Sam bit his lip when Dean pulled his head away from his touch and turned his face towards his stomach. Knowing it for what it was, an instinctive move by an unconscious person seeking to remain unconscious. It was the first movement from Dean since they'd ended up on the floor. Sam was beginning to feel worried, he wanted his brother awake and no longer just to get answers. He wanted Dean to talk to him, to remember where he was and what had happened. Wanted some kind of proof, his brother was ok and not suffering from a head injury Sam couldn't diagnose.
Trapping his tongue between his teeth, he girded himself against the displeasure he knew was coming and forced his brother awake. It was time to find out how serious a head injury Dean might have.
Suzie tried to mind her own business and remain in the kitchen but once she heard Dean weakly arguing with Sam, she found herself back at the bedroom door. It appeared Sam was insistent that Dean take a shower and Dean was just as insistent that he go back to bed and shower whenever that wasn't now. She quietly approached the bedroom, noting that Dean's voice was slurred and Sam's was increasingly impatient.
"Sam….don't hurt him." she frowned. "Sam….SAM!"
"Stay out of this." he hauled Dean to his feet, hand still holding to Dean's wrist, grip so tight, his knuckles were white. Dean couldn't keep his feet and Sam was forced to ease his other arm around Dean's waist and let him slump against Sam for support. "Dean, don't play with me."
"You don't need to be so rough." her voice was sharp and she reminded herself to tread carefully with Sam. The speed with which his emotions swung from angry to concern to impatient and back to anger scared her.
"Get out of my way." he'd deal with her scolding him later. Dean had yet to try to support his own weight and Sam didn't bother to figure out if it was because he couldn't or was refusing to because he didn't want to obey Sam and wanted to go to bed.
She didn't move from the doorway, eyes on Dean and ignoring Sam. "Dean? Dean?"
Dean blinked slowly, staggering for balance when he was released and left to stand by himself. He was trying to pull himself together, somehow realizing that all was not well with Sam who was on his way to remove Suzie from the doorway. Sam heard the thud behind him and turned around to see Dean on his knees, falling forward to land on his palms, hands out to brace his fall. His right arm buckled under the pressure against his stitches and he fell onto his elbow with a cry of pain that had Sam kneeling beside him, pulling him back up to his knees with a hand on either shoulder.
"You ok?" Sam asked worriedly, tipping Dean's head up by two fingers under his chin. "Dean, man, I'm…" he saw that Dean's eyes were opened and focused and searching for the feminine voice and completely lost his temper. "What the hell?!" he exploded. "Jesus Christ Dean, I can't believe you!"
"Sam…." Dean moaned, teeth clicking as he was held by the shoulders and shaken. "Urrgh!"
"I want some fucking answers Dean. Why did you have your phone on you in the Sheriff's car? Who caused the accident? Who broke that chain and took you out of the car? Why did you get into a car with Suzie? How did she just happen to be there? Find you? How do you know her? Why was she following the Sheriff to county? Why didn't she want you there? Why did she call you? Is she why you left me and came here? Why did you leave the house when she came to get me? What the hell is going on Dean? You don't want to tell me how you did that to your wrists, fine, I can pretty much tell you the story. Who dragged you? Your back tells me everything I need to know AND WHERE THE FUCK IS THE GOD DAMN CAR?"
Dean tried, he did, but he couldn't follow a word Sam was shouting at him. He heard his voice, wanted to respond but his hands were making their displeasure with him known and his head was listening to what his body was saying and it was demanding oblivion.
"SAM!" she'd been tugging ineffectively on his arm to try to stop him from shaking Dean and now launched herself against Sam, bodily barreling into him. Dean had neither the strength nor the required awareness to break free from Sam. "What the hell are you doing?" she yelled, grabbing hair, a finger, an ear, skin, whatever she could get a hold of. "Let him go! SAM! LET HIM GO! You're hurting him!"
Sam rose to his feet, Dean on the floor in front of him. Suzie was between him and his brother, hands on his chest, pushing him back and landing kicks to his shins. All he could think to do was defend himself against attack but when the fist he drew back was caught and a hand cupped his chin, he didn't fight it. The assault against his legs was becoming painful, breaking through his haze of rage
"Sammy." though Dean had managed to shove back the encroaching blackness to stop Sam, the effort had cost him. He couldn't stop the trembling that overtook his entire body, breaking out into a cold sweat.
Sam felt heavy breathing against his cheek, realized someone was in his face, wedging a thumb into his fist and grinding against the palm of his hand. Came to realize the room was actually not spinning out of control around him, that the thrumming causing this body to vibrate was the violent trembling of his brother leaning against him for the support needed to remain on his feet.
"Stop." Dean commanded. "You need to stop, I'm right here, okay? Right here, see? It's me, come on, come back, Sam, come on, come on Sam." he kept talking; his voice calm until Sam relaxed, pushing a hand through his hair. "You ok? Huh? Go." with an obvious struggle, Dean stepped back. "Take a walk, okay? Go out to the kitchen and get some water. Go on."
Sam didn't move, then stepped back, hands shaking. "Don't you dare go back to bed."
"Sam, take a walk." Dean ordered. "I can't fight you, I'm not up to it, so please, just go." Suzie stepped aside and once Sam had walked from the room, she turned on Dean who had collapsed on the bed as soon as Sam's back was turned.
"Well?" she demanded, hands on hips. "Dean?"
"What?" he groaned, pulling a pillow into his lap to hug. "God, pul-leese just lemme be."
"What the hell was that?" she demanded, shaken but calming down. "He's out of control Dean."
"You attacked him." Dean managed to point out. He wanted to lie down, curl up and pass out but knew he didn't have that luxury. His determination to put aside his own misery and discomfort and once again take care of Sam was an epic failure. His ability to stay focused and have a conversation with Suzie was waning. He wanted to stay awake and see to Sam, make sure he had calmed down and find out what had pissed him off to begin with but his head was determined to have its own way.
"He was hurting you!"
"He'd never hurt me." Dean said quietly. "Or you, well, long as you don't shake, smother, stab or shoot me." he joked with a lame grin that faded. "Or attack him, look, I'm sorry Sue, he's not himself….yeah, he's been struggling…..been having a hard time for a while now, he seems to do ok, long as I'm ok, you know?" he felt himself falling sideways, he tried to catch himself but it was no use. "Just don't do anything else to piss him off."
"So, what? You're saying as long as nothing happens to you, he remains in control? He needs help Dean, he needs to learn to control that anger, to address the reason why he is so angry and why it gets out of control."
"He has help." his eyes rolled and he brought his right hand up to squint at. Damn, but his hands, both of them hurt and he wondered what he had done to them. He was lying on his left arm but a brief struggle revealed that wrist was bandaged, unlike his right. Huh, looks like he had stitches, and they - or something - were bleeding, a lot, could that be why he felt so weak and dizzy? "I'm here." and he welcomed the comfort of blackness.