Okay, you wanted it…here it is…
Let me just say something: sometimes things aren't the way they seem to be! Remember that, especially with my stories. giggles
Enjoy…
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First there were eyes in his line of vision; brown spilling into green. Then the almond shaped, squinting eyes formed a face; jaw set, lips making a thin white line. Then all that became Sam.
Dean gasped over the rustle of the leaves; they were still talking above his head, but he couldn't see them anymore. He could only see his brother's face and a small smirk that tugged up those thin, white lips.
Dean wanted to thank his brother for shielding his eyes from the sun and scream at him at the same time to stop smirking down at him, because…
Man down here, Sam…
…but was unable to do more then simply gasp out loud.
"You okay?"
Sam's voice was a soft whisper over the rustling leaves.
Do I look like I'm okay to you?
Dean wanted to move his hands to grab onto Sam and pull him down, but he couldn't. move. a. muscle.
He blinked and swallowed.
"Dean? Hey…'s okay, you're gonna be okay."
His brother's voice was still soft, soothing and it dripped into him through his ears. He could hear just fine, forming words was harder. He could feel his mouth opening, catching flies more likely, and Sam shifted his legs, crouching down.
"'s okay, man," Dean felt Sam place his hand on his forearm and squishing that bug, that was marching up and down his arm, 's okay."
Yeah, Sammy…I don't think so.
His brother's eyes were concerned, fear glistering in the brown orbs. It was fear, if he ever saw it; yeah Sam was scared and that was so not good. They were screwed.
Sam tell me, what's wrong with me, please…
The words didn't come out like he wanted them to come out…there was just a hissing sound that interrupted his shallow breaths.
"'m gonna turn you on your side, get a look at your back, alright?"
Before he could protest, that ohmygodithurtsgoaway, he was already lying on his left side. He could feel some stones poking at his ribs and his brother's warm, sweaty hands touching him in places where he felt sticky and warm.
Is it blood, Sammy!? Tell me…
Dean gasped, the air sticking to his throat.
"Man, you're a mess. I'll need to clean this up later."
Dean huffed.
Smart sentence there, geek boy. And what do you mean 'later'? 'm practically dying here and you're talking about 'later'?
"Can you move?"
Move!? You nuts?
He tried to shake his head 'no', but then he remembered that he can't. move. a. muscle.
He whimpered a little, hoping that his brother would understand what he meant.
"Okay, okay. Dude, talk to me."
I can't…
When there was no answer from his brother, Sam tried again: "Man, come on. Take a deep breath and talk to me. You're just out of breath; there is nothing seriously wrong with you."
Dean huffed and groaned at the word 'seriously' and tried to form a word, sonofabitch, but he just couldn't. There was something…something lying on his chest or something and he couldn't even blink anymore.
"Come on, just one deep breath and then you can ramble on about me taking off after that thing like that. You're just out of breath, come on."
Out of breath?! What's he on? I can't move, I can't talk, I can't even…okay, okay…yeah I can't breathe either. Oh God, oh crap…
"Hey…come on…don't pass out on me now, dude," Dean felt Sam shake him by his shoulders, "listen to me, hey!!!"
The words were coming from behind him, words that sounded like orders, but spoken more softly then when his Dad gave them. His brother was a master in soft voice, a master of making him feel like he'll truly be okay.
"You've got thrown into a tree, you lost your breath, you're fine. Just scrapes and bruises, come on, man. Don't be a wuss."
Who you calling a wuss…
"Sm…"
"'m here. Right here. Now move," he felt strong arms being wrapped around his waist, "get up, get your footing," he did, he moved…okay Sam had a lot to do with it, but he moved, "good, good," he could feel the words being breathed behind his neck, "up."
And he was up, supported entirely by Sam and somewhere in the back of his mind there was this whisper of a doubt that Sam was lying about something. But that was a matter to discuss after he sleeps for a week and hopes that Sam will take care of whatever Sam was lying about.
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The End
