Big thanks, as always, to my intrepid editor hotshow, and on this chapter to chariskalos for her amazing positive support. There will probably only be one or two more chapters for this fic.
Chapter Thirty-one
Sam peered through barely slitted eyelids. Ah! Alone at last. He threw the sheet off his legs and swung out of bed. With a quick glance around, Sam pushed off onto his feet. A wave of dizziness washed over him, but it disappeared much faster this afternoon than this morning.
He stepped carefully, testing legs and balance with each movement. His whole body had a permanent ache now, but it was tolerable. Sometimes, if he ignored it, Sam could pretend nothing even hurt. He went through a series of range of motion exercises still testing his limits, his boundaries.
If he couldn't move out of this stupid hospital bed, he had no chance of convincing his brother and Bobby of his plan to take down that gremlin. After the elevator, Sam even dreamed about how he could take out that furry monster.
"Come on, Dean," Bobby's voice cut through the still air, "I can handle it."
"No, Bobby. Just. No!" The kitchen door slammed.
"But Dean, it could be really useful," Bobby argued.
Sam glanced back at his bed, debating on whether or not to climb back in. He didn't have much time. Choosing to stand his ground, Sam looked curiously towards the sounds approaching him.
"What are you doing up?" Dean asked. His brother didn't sound upset, though, just curious.
Sam smiled. "I'm feeling pretty good today."
"Don't over do it," Dean said, taking a seat.
"Come on, Dean." Bobby stood in front of Dean, still arguing. "I swear, it'll work."
"No, Bobby." Dean shook his head, leaning back and closing his eyes.
"What's going on?" Sam asked.
One of Dean's hands waved in the air. "Go on, Bobby. Tell him." Eyes still closed, Dean smirked. "I want to hear what Sam has to say."
Bobby turned around to face Sam. "Fine. I'm sure Sam will see reason." Bobby cleared his throat, casting a nervous glance at Dean before continuing. "I want to catch the gremlin."
"Don't we all want that?" Sam asked tentatively.
Dean's eyes flew open. "He doesn't want to kill it, Sam. He wants to keep it."
"Keep it?" Sam felt his eyes widen. "What do you mean, keep it?" What the hell was this about?
"He means," Dean leaned forward, a sour look on his face, "that he thinks he can train the damn thing. Like a dog."
Sam laughed, he couldn't help it. "This is a joke, right? You two came up with this outside?"
Dean shook his head, leaning back again. "I've been trying to talk him out of this stupid idea since this morning," Dean groaned. "Your turn."
"Bobby, why would you want a gremlin in the first place?" Sam asked, figuring if he could get to the root of the problem maybe he could find a solution that did not involve trying to tame a gremlin. And he used to think Dean had some bad ideas!
"Just picture it, Sam," Bobby held his hands up, like he was looking through a window into the future, "next time a werewolf shows its face, we let the gremlin out and sic it on the werewolf." Bobby smiled at his vision of a gremlin fighting on his side.
"Bobby?" Sam said quietly. "You do realize this thing isn't a Rottweiler, right? It's a gremlin who has been trying to kill me for a few weeks now."
The smile dropped from Bobby's face. "Well…yeah." His hands lowered slowly, brows drawing close together. "They're probably not as bright as a Rott anyway."
Dean winked at Sam. "Probably not. So do I get to kill it now?"
Bobby let out a deep sigh. "Yeah. I guess so."
"I have an idea about that," Sam offered. This appeared to be the perfect opportunity.
"Don't start, Sammy," Dean said in that warning voice.
"Look," Sam walked the length of the room and back. "I really am better. I'm not suggesting that I try to take it on myself, even though I'd really like to." He paused, a flare of anger interrupting his thoughts momentarily. "But I want to be a part of taking it out." He locked eyes with Dean. "For good."
Dean glanced over to Bobby, apparently wanting Bobby's view first.
Bobby scowled, shifted around uncomfortable as though his clothes were terribly tight, scratched the side of his head. "I don't like it, Sam."
"Me either." Dean jumped to his feet. "But I got an idea. I'll be Sam."
"You'll what?" Sam asked, his voice blending with Bobby's.
"It's perfect. I'll dress up in Sam's clothes, I don't know, maybe a wig? Then again, if this thing is more like a dog than a human, all I'll really need to do is smell like Sam." Sam stared at his brother in amazement. Dean was actually serious. "Shouldn't be too hard, all I need is some girl shampoo."
"Dean…"
His brother held up a hand to his protests. "I'm not finished yet, Sam. You and Bobby will be hiding close by. When it comes after me, you two can take it out. See? It's perfect. You'll even be able to help kill it."
Actually, that did sound like a pretty good plan. Sam waited to hear Bobby's pronouncement since Dean was number one on Bobby's list now.
"Think you can use a shotgun yet?" Bobby asked slowly, turning to face Sam.
"Probably not," Sam admitted, not wanting them to depend too much on him for their own sakes, "but I think I can handle Dean's gun with the holy water bullets."
"Done." Dean slipped the weapon out of his waistband, handing it over to Sam. "So, when do we do this?"