Carpe Diem, Baby
Chapter 2
Singer Salvage, South Dakota
"I'm so glad you're enjoying my misery."
Sam tried in vain not to smile at the sight of his brother, laid out across the bed on his stomach, his arms held rigidly to his sides, trying not to crease the bright red skin across his shoulders. What had looked slightly pink earlier had developed into a deep scarlet color that looked incredibly painful and threw off enough heat that Sam could feel it halfway across the room.
Sam folded his arms across his chest and gave in to his need to grin. "I did tell you to use sunscreen."
Dean opened an eye and glared at his brother. "Bitch"
"Jerk."
Dean moved his head and moaned at the pain it caused. His shoulders, upper back and neck were all burned and it had become increasingly hard for him to find a comfortable position as the night progressed. Finally he had given up and retired to the back bedroom he and Sam had been sharing while staying with Bobby, hoping that lying still would alleviate some of the discomfort. He had tried to sleep, but the burning across his back had kept intensifying and now he was just plain miserable.
He glanced back at his brother to find him still standing in the doorway of their room, watching him, a crooked grin on his face.
"Will you stop doing that?"
Sam raised his eyebrows innocently. "Doing what?"
"Grinning like an idiot – if you can."
Sam nodded and tried to comply. He really did feel bad for his brother. He hated seeing Dean in pain – even if it was pain of his own making. "I'm sorry, man. I'm not… I was just kind of remembering something."
Dean sighed. He was never sure where Sammy's trips down memory lane were going to take them. He knew he probably didn't want to go there, but at this point, he was willing to try anything to take his mind of the pain. Even a visit to Sammyville. "Remembering what?"
"I was about eight," Sam wandered over to the bed Dean was sprawled across and dropped down to the floor beside it. He leaned back against the mattress and turned his head slightly so he could see his brother. "Dad was working some job in Florida, a water sprite or something I think. You and me, we spent a whole day at the beach and you ended up – well, pretty much like you are now."
"So far, not such a great memory."
Sam rolled his eyes and continued. "I remember Dad putting wet towels on your back to cool you off so you could get some sleep. He wouldn't even let me sleep in the same bed 'cause he was afraid I was gonna hit you in the middle of the night or something." Sam's eyes lost their focus as his memories took hold. "Anyway, I remember waking up later and he was just sitting there with you. God, you were so miserable. Dad just sat there, running his hand through your hair and talking to you in this really soft voice until you fell asleep."
He smiled a sad smile, his voice soft. "Then he just sat back and watched you. I was supposed to be asleep, too, but I was lying there watching him watch you. He just looked so… I don't know. I never saw him like that before. Finally I asked him why you got so burnt in the sun and him and I never even got red." Sam turned toward Dean, happy to see his brother's eyes beginning to lose focus and some of the pain drift away.
"Dad just smiled and said it was because you were so much like mom. I think it was one of the few times he talked about her and didn't look sad."
Dean sighed, his brother's story having relaxed him, lulling him into sleep. "You're like her, too, Sam." His voice was barely a whisper and suddenly his eyelids were too heavy to keep open. He blinked slowly a few times until they finally decided to stay closed. "You have her smile."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Sam waited a few more minutes until his brother's breathing evened out, assuring him that Dean had finally succumbed to sleep. Hopefully he would be able to sleep through the night without too much discomfort. The sunburn would probably still hurt tomorrow, but Dean could choke down a handful of Advil and tough it out as long as he could get some rest tonight.
Quietly rising from the floor, he pulled off his brother's boots and pulled the cool sheet up over his jean clad legs, covering the lower half of Dean's back, but being careful not to let the sheet touch the irritated red skin of his upper torso. Dean didn't move, his pain and exhaustion finally getting the better of him and allowing him to fall deep into slumber.
With a fond shake of his head, Sam made his way out to the small alcove that served as Bobby's kitchen in search of a cup of coffee. He found Bobby huddled in front of the old computer perched atop his cluttered desk in what should have been the dining room, but served as Bobby's office space. Bobby looked up as Sam perched on the corner of the old desk and sipped at the coffee in the chipped white mug.
"Your brother finally pass out?"
Sam chuckled as he nodded. "Yeah. I think mother nature got the better of him today."
Bobby's grin joined his. "Yeah, but I'll bet that Impala is purring like a kitten."
"Let's hope so." Sam craned his neck to get a look at what was on Bobby's screen. The man may come across as a backwoods hermit, but he was one hell of a researcher and Dean and Sam had had no problems with the older hunter becoming the unofficial leader of their new war against the demon army. Bobby had recruited a few more hunters and managed to parcel out any job that caught his attention. So far, quite a few of the demons that had escaped from the graveyard in Wyoming had been dealt with. Sam just wished they had some idea of how many more had escaped.
"You boys up for a job?"
Sam took another sip of coffee and nodded. "We're always ready, Bobby. You got something?"