Title: When it rains, it pours.
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: A derelict mountain-top hotel, a blood-thirsty beast and a supernatural monsoon; what could possibly go wrong? Hurt!Sam hurt!Dean some comfort/awesome!Winchesters all around. Post 6x15 "The French Mistake"
Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P
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"Sam!" Dean shouted as they were pulled apart and then he was taken under the water. He fought for the surface and bobbed up in time to see a rock coming at him. Dean kicked hard and managed to glance off it with his shoulder. The run off from the mountain had turned the little river into white-water rapids. He saw Sam's head ahead of him before it went under water and came up again. He groaned in sympathy as he saw his brother slam into a boulder and roll away. He swam with the current, trying to reach Sam. Dean looked over to the bank of the river and startled to see something large and dark pacing them. Red eyes peered through the rain at them. A few moments later it stopped and watched as Dean and Sam were pulled away toward another waterfall.
Dean braced himself for the fall and could only watch as Sam went bonelessly over first. Dean spun on the drop, the water turning him until he wasn't sure which way was up. Dean crashed into the water at the bottom and sunk into the cold and the dark.
CHAPTER 4
Dean's lungs burned with the need for air. He felt the bottom beneath him and pushed off hard. He broke the surface and heaved in a breath, looking frantically for his brother as the current pulled him on. "Sam!" He shouted but got no response. The river was calmer there and he was able to swim and avoid the rocks. A splash drew his attention and he finally saw Sam clinging to a rock. "Hang on, Sam!" Dean swam for him, using the current to drive him faster and thumped into Sam. The impact tore his grip free from the rock but Dean had him now. He turned Sam and slid an arm around him to keep his head above water.
"Dean." Sam gasped in a voice thick with exhaustion and relief. He couldn't keep his eyes open. He'd lost track of how many times something hard had struck him and his head. It had been all he could do to hold his head above water; to not breathe in the river and give in to the darkness. He'd been tumbled around in a daze and only instinct had made him take hold of the rock as he slammed into it.
"I got ya, Sam. Hang on." Dean pulled strongly for the shore and ignored his own exhaustion. It pulled at him, telling him to stop with the frigid water sapping his resolve. At last he felt the bottom under his feet and stood with his brother. They stumbled out of the swirling river, Dean pulling and carrying Sam; forcing him out of the water and onto the bank. Exhaustion won at last and Sam dropped heavily to his knees in the mud; his grip on Dean's arm took his brother down with him.
Dean tugged Sam's head forward and felt through his hair. He found at least three distinct bumps. "Damn, Sammy. How many times did you hit your head in there?"
Sam groaned with the pain slashing through his skill and couldn't hold his head up anymore. He let it drop forward with a thump onto Dean's shoulder as darkness snuck in to try and claim him.
Dean froze as Sam went limp in his grasp, as his head fell onto his shoulder. Fear curled into his gut with the visceral memory of another time they had knelt in mud in an abandoned town and Sam had gone boneless and still against him; deathly still. He hastily took Sam's face in his hands, pulling his head up. "Sam? Sammy, you look at me!" Dean's voice was close to panic. Unlike last time, this time Sam's eyes cracked open, brows drawing together over bleary hazel eyes as evidence of the pain he was in and Dean sobbed in a short breath; smiling. "Hey, kiddo."
"I'm…ok." Sam said softly. He was afraid to raise his voice and cause himself more pain but he needed to allay the fear he'd heard in his brother's voice. He knew exactly what moment had a hold of Dean.
Dean nodded, letting Sam's head droop back to his shoulder and just held on to him for a moment. With the panic fading he could feel Sam's back rising and falling under his arm with his breathing and feel the pulse of his heart beneath his hand on his neck. "Ok, Sammy. Ok."
Sam shivered and could feel Dean shivering as well. "We get…somewhere dry now? Please?" Sam asked; his voice hoarse and muffled in the shoulder of his brother's sodden jacket.
Dean nodded as relief flooded through him and made him weak. "Yeah. In a minute. I need a minute." He felt Sam's head shift on his shoulder and looked around them, taking stock of their surroundings. The river churned past them on its way down the mountain. The rain still fell though it had let up to a near drizzle. He looked up the way they had come and could just make out the dark hulk of the hotel above. "Gonna be a hell of a hike back to the car." He muttered. "Ok. Let's get you up."
Sam sucked in a breath and did his best to get his legs under him as Dean rose and pulled him up. The world took a dizzying spin as pain speared behind his eyes. He felt his knees giving out and Dean's arms tightened their grip to keep him upright.
"Gotta work with me…Sam." Dean grunted with the effort of holding him up. Maybe it was all the water but Sam seemed to weigh more than normal. "Too far to…carry you. Come on, sasquatch."
"Sorry." Sam mumbled and locked his knees in place to stay standing. He knew he should get his head up off Dean's shoulder but couldn't seem to make himself move it.
"You just get your feet moving. I'll steer." Dean smirked when Sam snorted a soft laugh. He got them moving; slowly and he had to stop every few minutes to let Sam rest with his head down. "How's your vision?"
"S'okay. Just…damn it hurts." Sam had one hand wrapped around his head like he was holding it together.
"Not surprised. Your head feels like someone played whack-a-mole with it, dude." Dean pulled Sam up the hill with him one staggering step at a time through the rain. The forest around them helped to lighten the rain reaching them but it was still enough to keep them from being able to dry off.
"Shoes are squeaking." Sam smirked. "Sound like a mouse." He sneezed and rocked forward hard enough that Dean almost lost his grip and let him face-plant in the hill side.
"Whoa. Geez, warn a guy." Dean steadied his brother and started forward again. "How can you be putting off that much heat and still be shivering?" Sam's neck was uncomfortably warm under his hand.
"Lucky." Sam retorted and groaned as the Mariachi band in his head struck up again, pounding away at him. "Are we there yet?"
Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes up the hill. "Still got a ways to go." He wrapped an arm firmly around Sam's waist to keep him upright and moving. "So, you get a good look at that thing?"
"No. Just a blur." Sam frowned. "It was big. Dark. Red eyes. Claws." He jerked his head up. "Claws! Did it get you?" He suddenly remembered the thing crashing into Dean before it knocked them into the water. He fumbled trying to get Dean's jacket out of the way and check for wounds.
"Whoa, knock it off!" Dean batted his hand away. "I'm good. Didn't get me." He grabbed a tree to stop them falling when Sam wobbled. "Bruises, Sam. That's it."
Sam scowled at him in disbelief. "You'd lie to me. I know you would."
Dean laughed lightly and started them up the hill again. "Yeah I would but as it happens, this time I'm not." He hadn't been injured by the thing other than a hit to the stomach which ached. It worried him however that it had let them go. He supposed it could have expected them to drown but he didn't buy that. For some reason the creature, whatever it was, had let them escape this time and that worried him. His eyes roamed the forest around them, expecting the thing to come screaming out at them with every step. He still had his desert eagle at his back and had felt Sam's handgun at his as well so they weren't unarmed. The problem was, they had no idea what would even hurt it, let alone kill it.
It took them more than an hour to climb back up to the hotel. The clouds above had grown heavier, the rain came down harder and the fog that had rolled in from above still lay over the plateau as they staggered onto it. Dean had very nearly carried Sam the last twenty yards up the ever steepening incline while every hair on his body stood on end and told him they weren't safe.
"There she is, Sam. Almost there." Dean said softly as he had many times before, talking to keep Sam awake and focused. They both were shivering hard enough to rattle their teeth and Dean yearned to get in the car and blast the heater. He knew it was only afternoon but the cloud cover, the rain and the wintry fog made it feel more like evening and drive the chill into their bones. Dean watched everything, every swirl of fog, each twitch of a tree branch at the edge of the plateau as they made their way to the car.
Sam wished he could pick his head up without the ground spinning out from under him. He concentrated on breathing through the pain and keeping his feet moving. It surprised him when he felt Dean lean him up against something and he opened his eyes to see the Impala's roof. He fumbled for the door himself but Dean beat him too it and opened the door.
"In you go. Come on." Dean turned Sam and guided him into the passenger seat where he folded in on himself and slid over to rest his head on the driver's seat with a soft moan. "Dude." He groaned. Dean pushed the door shut and ran around the other side of the car. He opened the driver's side door and gave Sam's shoulder a nudge. "One side, little brother." He scowled when he didn't get a reaction and bent over him, pulling Sam's hair out of his face. "Sammy?"
Sam appeared to finally be completely unconscious. Dean rolled his eyes. "Awesome." He lifted his brother's head and shoulders and slid into the seat. "Hope to hell we don't get pulled over like this." He settled Sam's head on his leg with a chuckle and started the car. Some of the tension left Dean's shoulders as the engine growled to life. "That's my baby."
The trip back down the mountain was nerve-wracking between the fog and the rain. Dean white-knuckled his grip on the steering wheel and resisted the urge to speed as the wind periodically gusted; buffeting the car. Sam remained unconscious, his head in Dean's lap and he kept a hand on his brother's chest to feel the comforting rise and fall as he breathed. Even the difficult driving conditions wouldn't make him put both hands on the wheel. He needed the tactile reassurance that Sam was alive.
"You don't wake up before we hit town I'm taking you to a hospital, Sam." Dean warned his insensible brother. "You're worrying me." Sam stirred as if in answer. Dean slowed and looked down. "Sammy? You back with me?"
"S'too hot." Sam mumbled.
Dean frowned and put his hand to Sam's neck. "You're still running a fever. Sam?"
"Wha?" Sam blinked blurry eyes open and scowled, unable to make sense of where he was. His cheek rested on something soft and he was looking at the bottom of the steering wheel and…a denim clad knee? He tried to roll his head up for a look and groaned as nausea attacked him.
"Don't move, dude." Dean put a hand on his head to make him stay still. "Wait'll we get to the motel."
Sam stopped trying to move and closed his eyes again. "M'I wet?"
"Yeah, dude. Swim in the river, remember?" Dean glanced back down at him and started to revise going to the hospital but Sam nodded slowly.
"Remember. Got jumped." Sam swallowed hard to push back the nausea that was still welling up. He got a hand up to his head. "Head hurts."
"Almost there." Dean sped up as they passed the little diner and reached the edge of town. The wind died away and the rain slowed but didn't stop. He pulled into the motel and parked with a sigh before turning to his brother. "Ok, buddy. You gotta sit up now. Go slow." He carefully pushed Sam up until he was sitting and watched his face run through several shades of green. "You good?"
Sam nodded once and closed his eyes, working to not throw up in the car. He heard Dean get out and a moment later felt his door open and then his brother's hand on his shoulder. "Ok." Sam let Dean pull his legs out and get him standing. He made it two steps away from the car before his stomach revolted. The pain drove the bile up his throat and he was on his knees retching on the ground before it even registered. He could hear Dean talking to him but couldn't make out the words; could feel Dean's hands holding him up but he didn't have the energy to thank him and then he tumbled back into blissful darkness.
"Ah dammit!" Dean caught his brother's weight as he collapsed and leaned him back so he could see Sam's face. He was pale and even in the never-ending rain covered in a fever sweat. "Last time today I'm carrying your gigantor ass, Sammy." Dean leaned him against the car and ran to open the room door. He came back and pulled Sam up over his shoulder with a groan. "Not…helping…my bruised ribs, dude."
He carried Sam into their room and carefully laid him out on the far bed before running back outside to close the car door. Dean peeled his jacket off and tossed it with a wet splat into the bathroom and went to his brother. Dean sat beside him and pulled Sam unresisting up, propping him against his shoulder and worked his jacket off of him as well as his flannel. Sam coughed and shifted on his shoulder.
"Sammy?" Dean stopped and steadied his brother's head on his shoulder. "You back with me again?"
Sam groaned in response. "Dean?"
"The one and only." Dean eased him back down to the bed. "You gonna hurl again?"
Sam shook his head slowly with his eyes closed tight. "Uh-uh."
"Not convincing." Dean smirked. He got up and grabbed the trashcan from the bathroom and set it beside the bed then went back and wet down a washcloth before sitting back beside him. "Here." He laid the cloth over Sam's forehead and got a contented sigh in response. He chuckled. "Enjoy it while it lasts, princess."
"Bite me." Sam muttered but cracked an eye open to see his brother when he stood. "You ok?"
"Better than you." Dean pulled his shirts off over his head and cringed when the bruising across his chest pulled. "Ow." He saw Sam's eyes widen and slapped a hand down to his shoulder when he tried to move. "Stay put. It's fine and you'll just yak again if you sit up."
"That is not fine." Sam pointed to the vivid bruising across Dean's chest and stomach.
"Nothing's broken, dude. I'm good." Dean rolled his eyes. He tapped Sam's head lightly when he moaned and closed his eyes again. "Marching band still refusing to yield in there?"
Sam snorted a laugh in spite of the pounding in his skull and put an arm over his eyes to block out the light. "Just pour some painkillers in me. I'll be fine."
"Uh huh." Dean rubbed a hand over his sore chest with one hand and dug through his bag for the first aid kit with the other. He pulled out the bottle of painkillers and another of cold medicine and took them over to Sam. "Here. Dose yourself while I take a shower." He put them in Sam's hand and pushed over a bottle of water as well. "No bullshit, Sam. Take 'em both. That fever you got brewing gets worse you're not going back up there with me."
"No way in hell I'm letting you go back up there yourself." Sam growled and moved his hand to glare up at him. "Don't even think about it." He shook out pills from both bottles and swallowed them dry, careful not to move his head too much. "I'll be good by tonight."
"Take a nap, princess." Dean turned off the light by the bed and went into the shower, chuckling when Sam flipped him off.
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Sam woke with a gasp as something cold pressed against his neck. He flailed a hand out and scowled when it was caught in a firm grip.
"Knock it off." Dean waited for Sam's eyes to find him and smiled. "Just me, fever boy." He let go of his brother's arm and grabbed another bag of ice, setting it against the other side of Sam's neck and then two more under his arms. "We could fry eggs on your head right now, dude."
"Shit." Sam shivered with the touch of the ice but could feel the heat inside him. "Time is it?"
"Afternoon. You hungry?" Dean watched him for signs the thought of food was going to make him throw up and smiled when it didn't.
"Maybe." Sam closed his heavy eyes. "Soup maybe?"
"Soup I can do." Dean tugged the blanket up across his chest and thumped his hand into it. "Sit tight and don't screw with the ice. I'll be back."
"Where are you going?" Sam started to move but Dean forced him back down.
"What'd I just say?" Dean frowned and waited until Sam calmed. "I'm going to get you soup and you're gonna lay here and not move until I get back. Capice?"
Sam nodded wearily. "Ok. Sorry."
"Just…get some sleep." Dean patted his shoulder and stood back, waiting to see if Sam was going to try again.
"I'm good." Sam shifted to get more comfortable. "Go on." He listened to Dean leave and let himself settle back into the bed, resisting the urge to push the bags of ice away. He felt like crap and slightly humiliated to have come down with a stupid cold in the middle of a hunt; never mind the pounding his head had taken in the river. Sam didn't fight the pull of exhaustion, letting it roll over him and pull him down into sleep. He was nearly there when the shrill ringing of a phone startled him awake. He lifted his head up carefully and groaned.
"Of course." His phone was ringing and Dean had left it on the table across the room. "I'm coming." Sam sat up carefully and slowly. "Keep your pantyhose on." He muttered as his phone rang again. The ice bags rolled away into the bed as he stood on shaky legs. His head swam and he wasn't sure if it was from the fever or the concussion. He staggered to the table and scooped up his phone, flipping it open. "Hello?"
"Sam. What took you so long?" Bobby asked. "You idjits coulda called me sooner. How'd it go up at the hotel?"
Sam dropped his head into his hand and tried to organize his thoughts. "Uh…not so good. There was…something up there."
"Something?" Bobby leaned over his desk, listening to the odd timber of Sam's voice. "You alright, son?" He waited and when Sam didn't answer the first niggle of worry came over him. "Sam! You still there?"
"Yeah. Sorry." Sam was having trouble. Standing up had been a bad idea, he decided. Without the ice his fever was making him feel as though he were cooking in his own skin. His head felt heavy and Bobby's voice sounded like it was coming through water; distant and muffled. "Bobby…"
"Sam? What's wrong?" Bobby's worry spiked as Sam said his name and sounded lost and confused. "Sam, you talk to me son. Sam?" He heard a groan and then the sound of something heavy hitting the floor along with a clattering sound of the phone dropping. "Sam!" He waited but heard nothing. "Dammit!" He hung up and dialed Dean.
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To Be Continued…