Authors Note: I'm so sorry it has been so long since I posted (and yes I know I apologize for that a lot) I have just had such a busy summer! Plus, in all honesty, I lost a bit of my muse and couldn't really decide what I wanted to happen next. But after a lovely review from one of my readers I knew I really needed to just take the time to figure it out and write because I owed it to all of my followers and reviewers. So I hope that everyone who reviews or just reads my stories knows that it means a lot to me and I really hope that you enjoy how the story is continuing. And to the lovely reviewer ( I hope you know who you are) I'm far from done writing. Love, supernaturalloverja
Dean reclined back on the couch, scuffed boots propped up on the coffee table and head thrown back on the threadbare cushions. A constant mantra of 'suck it up Dean' rolled through his brain as he clenched his fists, nails biting into the meat of his palm, trying to focus on something other than the fire burning in his guts. He rolled his head to the side as he heard his brother's voice murmur from the kitchen.
"We shouldn't have left the hospital." Sam scolded voice low as if he was trying to keep Dean from hearing. Well stellar job on that.
"Sam we didn't have a choice." John growled, exhaustion coating his tone. Dean could see their shadows in the lit doorway. John's back was turned to his youngest and his shoulders hunched in resignation. Sam stepped closer, raised up on his tiptoes so that he stood only a couple inches shorter than their Dad.
"Of course there was a choice!" Sam snapped, voice rising for a moment before he remembered himself, "of course there was a choice, you could have used actual insurance…"
"I'm not having this argument again." Dean could hear the scuff of his father's boots, like he was trying to move away but right behind that was the squeak of sneakers.
"He needs a hospital Dad." John's shadow stilled, Dean could almost feel the tension from his spot on the couch.
"We can take care of him, he is all stitched up and now he just needs to heal." His father' shadow moved out of the doorway, giving the impression of 'conversation over'.
"You always do this! Dean isn't invincible, he isn't a toy soldier! He is my brother…" Sam trailed off, his lanky shadow moving right alongside his father.
"And he is my son!" Their voices were steadily rising and soon a headache was building up behind Dean's eyes. Why couldn't they just get along? "If staying in the hospital was an option then we would have but it wasn't Sam. Drop it!"
"I'm not going to just drop it! Why can't we take him to another hospital?"
"Do you really think shuffling him around is the best option? Just trust me Samuel, I know what's best…"
"No you don't!" Sam bellowed, a steady pant escaping his lips, "You don't."
"Sam." Dean levered himself upward and shuffled towards the front door, hands braced on his abdomen. He just wanted out of here before the fallout. He stifled a groan as he pulled the door open, biting into his bottom lip as he struggled outside. He could hear the drill sergeant in his father's voice inside, and carefully made it down the front porch steps.
"Where you goin' boy?" Dean jumped, groaning loud and deep as it jostled his injuries. He turned slowly to see Bobby sitting in a beat up chair and nursing a beer.
"Out." Bobby nodded, chuckling under his breath.
"You don't look like you're going to make it very far."
Dean nodded glumly, ducking his head low to shadow the grimace on his face, "Sammy and dad are fighting."
"I know, pretty sure my neighbors a couple miles away can hear them," Bobby half joked, "idjits."
"Seems like they're always fighting." Dean muttered, half falling and half lowering himself to the rickety steps. "Well, when dad is even home."
"It's not your fault Dean." Bobby relied calmly, staring out into the car yard. Dean looked up at him with big green eyes, bottom lip snagged between his teeth. He looked so torn, ripped between the brother he was supposed to protect and the father he was so supposed to obey, that poor boy.
"Sure feels like it." His voice was quiet and shaky. He parted his lips, his mouth gaping like he wanted to say something, but before a word escaped he snapped it closed. A particularly loud yell echoed through the house and Dean winced, pulling himself up on the banister. "I'm going for a walk."
"You sure that's a good idea Dean-o?" He questioned, knowing it wasn't likely he would get an answer out of the stubborn teen. Dean gave him a tight lipped smirk and started across the dusty yard. He made it to the edge of the cars before he swayed precariously on his feet. He stalled for a moment and Bobby tensed up as Dean turned towards him. Bobby clambered to his feet and made his way across the yard faster than he knew possible.
"Think I'm… I'm gonna…" With that as the only warning Dean retched violently, thick strands of blood and bile escaping his mouth. Bobby grabbed hold of his upper body so he wanted fall forward into the mess. Dean caught his breath and turned bleary green eyes up to Bobby, blood coating his lips and down his chin.
"Maybe I shouldn't go for that walk." Then Dean's eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp in Bobby's arms.