When Sam wakes up again it's dark. He's in a soft bed and the room is quiet save the soft beeping of medical machinery. He feels like he was just hit by a bus. His hand is wrapped in bandaging and pretty much everything from his shoulders up hurts. He gives himself a moment to get his bearings, stretching his sore muscles.
A soft voice draws his attention to the door where the beautiful girl from the ambulance stands. So she wasn't just a dream…
"It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling, Mr. Winchester?"
"Call me Sam," he groans in a voice rough from disuse and medications.
She smiles and walks into his room, stopping by his bedside, "OK… Sam. I'm Jessica… Jess. I'm one of your nurses. Do you know where you are?"
"Jess," Sam whispers, trying out the woman's name on his tongue, "Uh, yeah…. hospital? Sochi?"
"That's good. It looks like your memory is intact."
"Yeah, I remember the hit- Oh!" Sam suddenly sits up and is immediately sorry he did as his head starts spinning but he needs an answer to his question. "Hey, do you know if we won?"
"Wow, you're in a hospital bed and that's what you're worried about?" She raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms but the smile on her face says that she gets it. "Your team won. Benny LaFitte scored the winning goal and your brother got tossed out of the game for knocking out Luc Morningstar. Speaking of which, just a moment, I promised to text him the minute you woke up."
"He isn't here?"
"No," she says without looking up from her phone, "I made him leave a couple hours ago. He was really worried about you and I didn't want him having to deal with all the reporters. Your coach showed up a bit ago and chased them all away, though."
"Maybe you could hold off a bit before texting him? Give him some time. He's probably exhausted and he'll just come here and mother hen me."
"Oh no," Jess shakes her head at Sam, "I watched the highlights of that game. I'm not incurring the wrath of Dean Winchester. He's kind of terrifying," she says with a fond smile on her face.
Oh great, thinks Sam, another girl falling all over his brother. A little sting of jealousy comes out of nowhere. Why does he feel so jealous of Dean over this girl? Dean gets gorgeous women all the time and it never bothers him. Well, truth is, he is really attracted to Jess and has spent every minute since she walked in the room thinking about how to make a move.
"I guess," Sam grumbles trying not to sound too petulant.
"I'm kidding, Sam," Jess teases, "truth is, I'm a big sister myself and I would want someone to let me know if Emma was waking up after a hit like you took. Big sibling code, you know?"
That makes Sam laugh, which kind of hurts but he doesn't care because when Jess laughs too the sound is so beautiful. Sam lays back down, his head still fuzzy and sore.
"OK, I get it," Sam concedes and wracks his brain thinking of a way to keep her talking, keep her from leaving the room. "So… how did I end up with an American nurse in Russia?"
"Oh, you've got Russian doctors out there too. But I'm on the US hockey team's medical staff. We are working with the local medical team."
"Oh. Well it's… uh… nice… to have you… I mean a nurse like you… I mean an American, not that I don't like Russians. It's just the language," Sam groans at his own mouth. Why can't he form a sentence? Is it this girl? "Ugh! How hard did I hit my head?"
Jess smiles at him, big and warm and chuckles at his confusion. "Easy there, don't hurt yourself. I understand exactly what you're saying. And you've got a whole team of people from both countries working on you. You'll be fine."
Wow, this girl has such an easy going way about her just her voice is putting him at ease. Hopefully he can get his traitorous tongue to make him sound like he's actually been with women and not like a 15 year old virgin asking a girl out for the first time.
"So, Sam, now that you're awake, are you feeling up to some tests? I'd like to let your doctors know that you are up. I'll have to call some in since it's the middle of the night but everyone's anxious to make sure you're OK."
"Middle of the night, huh? So how did you get stuck with the graveyard shift?"
"I, um, volunteered… actually," Jess says as she looks down at the notebook in her hand.
"Oh… well, thanks. I'm glad you did."
It's kind of dark in the room but Sam swears he sees a little blush creep up Jess' neck and make her pink cheeks even rosier. It's really pretty and hot damn, if he's reading these signals right, he's totally got a chance here.
She coughs into her hand and fumbles with her notebook. "Well, I'm going to alert the team that you are up so we can get you a clean bill of health, OK? Just call the desk if you need anything."
She exits the room and Sam can feel his heart beating much quicker than normal. What is it about Jess? Jess. He whispers the name again, tasting it on his tongue, lingering on the s at the end. It's lovely and sweet and he thinks the name matches the enchanting nurse. Wow, he's crushing hard on the girl under all those soft blonde curls. Damn, he should have told her he wasn't ready for the doctors to come back, kept her talking longer. What if her shift is over now that he's awake and she leaves? He doesn't even know her last name or how to get in touch with her again.
He sighs and closes his eyes, not much he can do now but wait for the poking and prodding of the medical staff. He really doesn't like the look of the wrapped up hand. He's still got several games to play here at the Olympics. He can't be taken out of the competition by an ass like Luc Morningstar.
He was right about the poking and prodding. After at least an hour of scans and tests and questions and examinations the doctors finally leave his room, presumably to huddle up and decide just how broken he is. Its once again quiet until he hears a soft knock at the door and when he looks up his heart does a little flip when he sees Jess and hell yeah, she is carrying a tray of food!
"Hey, Sam, thought you might be up for something to eat? I mean, its crappy cafeteria stuff but at least it isn't hospital green Jello, right?"
"Yeah, thanks. That's great. I'm starving, actually."
She swings the table arm over his bed and sits the tray of food down on the surface. There is juice and tea, a big nice looking fruit salad and a fresh sandwich. There is even a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. His stomach growls in anticipation as he looks down at the tray and it takes him a moment to notice that Jess has turned around to leave.
"Hey! I could use some company… if you're not too busy that is."
She turns around and bites her lip before relaxing into a smile and drops herself down into the chair by Sam's bed. "OK, Sam, you got me to stay. What do you want to talk about?"
Sam pops a grape in his mouth and thinks for a moment. "I don't know, the usual, I guess? How about… why nursing?"
"Ah, an easy question, so predictable," she giggles and rolls her eyes feigning boredom. "My dad is a doctor and I really admire him, always wanted to go into the medical field but I liked the hands-on nature of nursing more than the diagnostic side of being a doctor. He spends a few minutes with his patients where I get to spend hours with them and really help them and their families. It's really rewarding."
Sam nods and chases down a bite of his sandwich with a few gulps of juice. "So how'd you end up working for the Olympic medical team?"
She gives him a little nonchalant shrug and grabs a strawberry out of his fruit salad. It surprises him and kind of warms him at the same time that she is forward and comfortable enough to share his food. "My father is the head neurologist for the US Olympic medical staff. I convinced him to put me on the team, told him I wanted to go into sports medicine. Plus, never underestimate the power of a little nepotism," she giggles. "OK, my turn… why hockey?"
"Pretty much the same," Sam mumbles around a bite of sandwich and takes a huge swallow so he can speak clearly. "Family business, like you. My dad was a hockey player. My brother's a hockey player. It kind of felt like the decision was made for me." He shrugs, "I do love it, though. And Dean and I make a pretty good team."
"For what it's worth, I think it was a good decision. You're really good… obviously if you made it to the Olympic team."
Now it's Sam's turn to blush. Yeah, he knows he is good at his sport, Winchester is quickly becoming a name everyone around hockey knows. But for some reason, hearing Jess acknowledge it makes him feel that flutter in his stomach. Has she watched him play?
"So," she asks, "what would you have done if you hadn't gone into the family business?"
"I got accepted to a few pre-law programs that I applied to as backups in case I didn't get picked up in the draft."
Jess' eyebrows raise, "Pre-law, huh? Smart and good looking… nice." She nods appreciatively and adds, "So where were you thinking?"
"Boston, Yale or Notre Dame for hockey of course, but I really had my eye on Stanford for law."
"Wow… how smart are you?"
"Uh…" Sam responds eloquently. Nice way to show off that Stanford vocabulary, Winchester.
"Wait… don't answer that. I don't want to be intimidated by your genius." Her easy smile really puts Sam at ease and takes away the uncomfortableness of the question. "So, you think you'll ever go back?"
Sam hadn't really thought about that. Hockey had dominated his life for so long the idea of law school had always just been a little bug in the back of his mind, a backup plan for if he was ever seriously injured or not really as good at his sport as everyone seemed to think.
"I don't know, maybe. I never really thought about it once I was picked up."
"So it's all hockey all the time?"
"Well," he decides to amp up the flirting just a bit, "not all the time. All work and no play, you know?"
"Oh, I seriously doubt Sam's a dull boy," she grins back.
"Sadly, I kind of am. Aside from the night of debauchery Dean drags me out to every once in a while, I mostly like to read."
"Bookworm, huh? Well you're in good company. My apartment looks frighteningly like Flourish & Blotts and I can't seem to part with a single one of my beloved books."
"You ever hear of a Kindle?"
"Can't do it… love the smell of paper books too much. So, what's the last good thing you read?"
Sam can't believe it. With every passing minute this gorgeous creature gets more and more perfect. She is funny and sweet and understanding and shares his passion for reading. It's the middle of the night and he should be exhausted but he's so wrapped up in Jess he doesn't even notice as the minutes then hours tick by.
Dean practically runs to the hospital. Sam's probably been awake for hours and he wasn't there. That familiar sense of guilt begins settling in his stomach. How could he be so careless and let Sam wake up in a hospital in a foreign country all by himself? If only he hadn't gone to Cas' room last night. Cas has his him totally distracted and he can't let himself lose focus. There's too much at stake here. He's got enough going on with his brother and the Olympic games.
How could he be so careless? Sam was hurt last night and now the sun's actually coming up and he isn't at his brother's side. He must be wondering where Dean is. He's got an apology all ready but when he gets to Sam's room he stops outside the door. There is laughter coming from inside the room, Sam's and a woman's.
He hears his little brother, "… so there I am singing in the shower not suspecting a thing when my hair starts falling out in in these giant disgusting clumps."
"Oh, no, he didn't," Dean hears the woman's shocked voice exclaim.
"Yep, the dick put Nair in my shampoo bottle. Oh yeah, and it was two days before the winter formal dance. My date's parents thought I was a skin head!"
The woman laughs, "Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing but that's really funny."
"You're kidding me! You're siding with him?!"
"Well, you did say you left a dead fish under the seat of his car when he had a big date."
"Yeah, but that was revenge for him changing all of the names on my Civil War report to rapper names. Abraham Lincoln was Al Dog and Ulysses S. Grant was U.G. Shizzy. I actually turned it in like that! My teacher thought I was losing my mind."
The woman's laughter is rolling as Sam tells her stories that Dean remembers fondly.
"Oh my God, Sam, stop. I'm crying," she manages between giggles.
"I never did get him back for the Nair, though. I had to concede defeat before someone got seriously hurt. But one day when he's least expecting it…"
"You'll what, Sammy?" Dean bursts into the room, "You gonna get even with me? You don't want to mess with the master."
"Dean," Sam looks up and grins at his brother and nods in mock seriousness, "when you least expect it, Dean, when you least expect it."
"Good morning, Dean," Jess says.
"Hey, Jess, right? Thanks for keeping an eye on the big guy here for me."
"It was my pleasure. Well," Jess says as she gets up and gathers her things, "I'll leave you to talk to you brother. And Sam, thanks for making what could have been a long boring graveyard shift really… nice."
"Yeah, you too."
Dean watches her leave the room and turns back to his little brother, raising his eyebrows and giving him a knowing smirk. "Look at you, Sammy, playing doctor with the hot blonde."
Sam gives him a bitch face and a huff, "She's my nurse, Dean."
"Yeah OK, Romeo. And what part of your medical care required charming anecdotes from your childhood?"
"Shut up."
Dean just laughs at his brother's pout. "So, how are you feeling? What'd the doctors say?"
"Broken hand," Sam says with an exasperated expression on his face and holds up his bandaged hand.
"Shit…"
"Yeah, going to be tough to hold my stick like this. And kind of messed up my neck when Lucifer tried to behead me. They're bringing in a specialist to work on it. Apparently a couple of vertebra got misaligned."
"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."
"I heard you came pretty close last night."
"Yeah, the fucker apparently only knows how to hit dirty. I dropped the gloves and got him in a straight fight and he went down like Courtney Love at a crack house."
Sam makes one of his faces at Dean's crude simile, "Well, at least we won the game."
"Which means you've got two days to get better and back out on the ice. I need you. We can't do this without you."
"There are four other guys who can play your right wing. You can still do this without me, Dean."
"Yeah, well… I don't want to."
"I'll try, Dean. Just, be prepared to play without me if you have to."
Dean doesn't respond to this. He hates the idea of Sam not being able to play at his side. Nothing feels more right then when he and Sam are in the zone, passing, scoring and kicking ass together. And he really didn't like the sound of a neck injury. Those can be tricky, the thought of a career changing injury is something that is always hanging over professional athletes.
After about ten minutes Sam starts yawning and his eyes start drooping. He tells Dean that he has been up since the middle of the night with tests and Dean fills in the blanks about spending a lot of that night talking to Jess because there were certainly no tests happening when he arrived. Dean tells him to get some sleep and promises to come back in the afternoon to check on him again.
He's actually pretty exhausted himself, his hangover has been playing the bass drum in his head since he woke up and he can still taste that awful morning after vodka taste in his mouth. A hot shower and a soft bed are the only things he has on his mind as he heads back to his room.
He stands under the hot stream of water and closes his eyes, reflecting on the series of events that have thrown him for a loop in the past couple of days. The fight with Luc, his brother's injury, Benny's game winning goal, and waking up this morning wrapped around six feet of hot figure skater. OK, that last one hasn't left his thoughts since his eyes opened before dawn.
He hadn't planned on getting drunk with Cas and dumping all of his crap on the guy. He felt ridiculous for whining about his life. He had told the man everything about his shitty past, how his dad had left him in charge of a five year old for days at a time, how terrifying it had been the first time he had to deal with Sam getting hurt, rushing his crying baby brother to the hospital on his bicycle handlebars, panic rising up in his throat so severe he could hardly breathe. He groans remembering that he even told Cas that he sometimes secretly hated his father for leaving them like that. What must Cas think of him?
Well, maybe he doesn't think too badly of Dean considering that he woke up with the guy on his shoulder. That though brings back the memory of Cas' hard body along his. Jesus, the guy is all muscle. And Dean can still feel the silky softness of his hair tickling the sensitive skin between his fingers. His cock twitches in interest as his mind starts to recount exactly what Cas felt like, looked like, smelled like.
He reaches down and palms himself as he closes his eyes and pictures Cas, laying on his side looking up at Dean with those deep blue eyes, remembers his mouth as it caressed the vodka bottle and his tongue as it licked the strong drink's remnants from his lips. Dean strokes himself as he imagines Cas' voice and the way he says Dean's name. He thumbs his slit picturing Cas doing those fucking impossibly flexible spins. And he cums remembering the warmth of Cas' skin along his arm tucked up into the skater's shirt last night. Jesus, he's fucked over this guy.
He falls into bed a few minutes later, lost in that place between pleasure and shame.
The repeated buzzing of his phone wakes him sometime later. It feels like only moments have passed by but the clock on the wall tells him it's after noon and he stumbles out of the bed, rooting through the pockets of his jacket to shut the phone off and go back to sleep. He glances down, however, at the screen and what the hell? Eighteen messages from Crowley?
I can't leave you alone for a day and you are already in trouble? Call me.
Pick up your phone, squirrel. We've got damage control to do.
You can't hide from me forever. Call me as soon as you get this.
The texts continue with the strange messages until he sees one that has the word DUMBASS in all caps with a link next to it. Dean clicks the link and is taken to an online celebrity news website with the headline: Dean Winchester melting the ice in Sochi with latest love interest Castiel Krushnic.
Holy shit! The article gives a pretty detailed description of every time he and Cas have spent time together, from them skating together to Dean meeting Cas backstage before his short program the other night, and finally reveals that he spent the night in Cas' room last night, making no qualms about insinuating what went on behind that door. What the hell? How did someone even know all this? Yeah, there are reporters everywhere but he had thought the whole Bela story had thrown them off. The reporter on this story must be following him or something.
Dean reluctantly calls Crowley back, prepared for a thorough ass reaming from the douchebag.
"Hello, Dean, nice of you to finally call. Regretting your French mistake?"
"Crowley, nothing happened. That whole fucking article does nothing but jump to conclusions just because we're hanging out together."
"Listen, Casanova, I couldn't care less who you sodomize but your adoring public does. Castiel's been wearing ruby slippers for years so naturally you spend this much time with him someone's going to assume you've gone over the rainbow too."
Dean sighs and drags his hand over his face, "What do you want me to do?"
"Slap on your chap stick and pucker up, buttercup. You and Bela have another appearance to make. And sell it this time. I want to see authenticity, passion, devotion."
"Jesus, Crowley, we're not making a chick flick here."
"Of course we are and I was born to direct! So get cleaned up. I'll call you back with a time and place for act 2."
Dean hangs up the phone and suddenly remembers what Cas said last night about Anna. Cas said he was gay but… well Dean says he's straight so there's that. What if Anna is a girlfriend or something? What if this news gets to her and screws up Cas' relationship? Shit! He needs to warn the guy.
He calls Castiel, who answers almost immediately, "Hello, Dean."
"Hey, Cas."
"How is Sam?"
And something inside Dean's heart does a little flip at the fact that the first thing Castiel would ask about is Sam. Cas just gets him, gets how important Sam is in his life.
"He's recovering. A couple broken bones and a neck injury they're still working on but he's awake and macking on the hot nurses which is a good sign."
Castiel laughs and Dean can hear the tension leaving with his breath. He must have really been worried.
"Hey, listen, what I'm calling about. There's this news article this morning. Probably no one will even see it, not like it's one of the major new sources or anything but I wanted to give you the heads up."
"OK?"
"See this reporter, she's apparently following me like a creeper. She saw us at the restaurant the other day, and skating, and well everything. She knows I was hanging out with you last night and her article makes it sound like we spent the night together. Like together together. I hope this isn't going to screw things up with Anna."
"Anna? Um, I don't think she will be concerned. I'm sorry, Dean, but she moved on a long time ago."
"Moved on? But she was in your room the other day."
"Yes… she wanted me to have some family here. Our father certainly won't be showing up."
Hold the phone! Did Cas just say our father? As in Cas and Anna share the same father? They're siblings? What the hell? Dean's brain short circuits a bit while he processes this new bit of information.
"Wait… Anna's your sister?"
"Yes, Dean. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I understand if you would prefer not to continue our friendship because of that."
"Hold up. I'm missing something here. What does Anna being your sister have to do with anything?"
"I thought you might feel awkward being around her since you and she had once been together."
Oh, fuck! Dean has never hated his traitorous dick so much. He thought the girl in Cas' room looked familiar. Now it all makes sense. He must have slept with her at some point in the past, probably a random hookup during that lost drunken rookie year. 150 million women in the US and he manages to bang Cas' sister?
So that's what Cas meant when Dean asked the question last night about why he hadn't made a move. He was afraid Dean would be uncomfortable because of his past with the guy's sister. Sure, it's just this side of some Jerry Springer shit but Dean can't bring himself to care right now because his brain is too busy processing the fact that the only thing holding Cas back is something that doesn't even matter to Dean.
And wait a second, is he seriously considering pursuing something with Cas? All he knows is that his chest suddenly feels a lot lighter and his brain can't seem to think anything but Cas.
"Hey, Cas. I gotta go take care of something. But, uh, what are you doing later?"
"Nothing."
"I kind of promised my friend Jo I'd go see her snowboarding competition and with Sam laid up in the hospital I could use some company. What do you say?"
"That sounds like fun. I'd love to go."
"Great. I'll text you the details and meet you later? Oh, and Cas? The Anna thing… not a problem for me at all."
He hangs up and texts Crowley back: Change of plans. Call me to discuss.
Author's Note:Thanks for your patience with me on this fic. I have officially learned my lesson. Never try to write TWO fics at the same time between a full time job, single parenting, and going to school. Sorry, folks, my muse kept working overtime giving me inspiration for my Shameless fic, distracting me from this one. Don't worry, though, I would never abandon it, I just got a little sidetracked. It's Stanley Cup playoff time now, though, so plenty of hockey inspiration as I cheer on my beloved Pens.
Hope it's worth the wait and that you like my Jess. I really had fun writing her. Things really start to kick into gear now and in the next chapter.