In a hurry and don't have much time, but I really wanted to get this up for you!
Sam hunched forward violently, gripping the edge of the toilet white-knuckled. He emptied the contents of his stomach and groaned, his headache growing constantly by the second.
"You know," Dean spoke up. "I'd tell you the perfect remedy for a hangover if this situation wasn't so grim." He paused. "A nice, greasy sandwich in a dirty ashtray."
Sam held up his middle finger at the computer screen. "Very funny." He grunted. "Dude, did you have to Skype now?"
"Come on, lighten up Sammy. Bobby hooked me up, turned on your camera thingy while you were nose diving the porcelain throne. Besides, I'm starting to like this Skype." Sam rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, I was just, Uh, thinking about possible solutions."
"I have no...THING!" The last part was squealed out as he jerked forward again and threw up.
"Gross, Sam, tryin' to hold a meeting here."
Sam laid his head against the wall and closed his eyes, taking some raggedy breaths. "Did you call Rufus?"
"He's got nada."
"Anything new with Bobby?"
"Haven't you seen him?" Dean asked.
"Dean, I've had my head in the toilet since three this morning!"
"Okay, okay. Well he doesn't have anything either."
"Caleb?"
"...Is dead... Honestly, dude, have you been drunk for the past three years?"
"Jo?"
"Zip."
"Ellen?"
Dean paused for so long Sam opened his eyes and raised his head, staring at the computer screen. "What?"
"Gotta go, Sam." Dean said suddenly.
"Wha-wait-Wha?" Sam sputtered.
"Listerine- it's your friend," Dean quipped before his screen went black.
Sam stood up but sat back down, his head spinning.
"Need anything?"
Sam jumped, cursing and looking up at the hunter. "You scared the crap out of me, Bobby!"
Bobby ignored his comment. "Food-"
Sam groaned.
"Liquid?"
He groaned again.
"Greasy sandwich in an ashtray?"
Sam fumbled towards the toilet and dry-heaved, feeling a gentle pat on the back. "Hang in there, son." Bobby told him.
"Call Dean." Sam called as the older man walked down the hall. "He had some sort of breakthrough."
"Sure," Bobby said back, grimacing as Sam turned back towards the toilet quickly.
...
Bobby sat down in the living room, instantly surrounded by walls of books, and pouring some alcohol into a shot glass and taking a decent sip before calling Dean.
The phone only rang once. "Bobby." Dean answered.
"Sam said you made a breakthrough?"
"Well, I've got an idea." Dean returned. "Did the translation say it had to be a flesh and blood mother?"
Bobby sifted through his desk and found the sheet again. "Nope. Why? What're you up to?"
"Bobby, what's the closest thing we have to a mother?"
"My guess would be your mother, idgit. But I'm guessing your not talking about her, so get on with it."
Huh, Dean thought. Bobby seemed a little cranky. He must be sober. He's been grumbling since Sam drank his beer. A sober Bobby isn't usually a content Bobby.
"I'm talking about Ellen."
"Harvelle?"
"No, DeGeneres! Yes, our Ellen!" Dean sighed, watching the highway peel away in front of him. "S-sorry Bobby. I didn't mean to flip out on you like that... I've kind of been on edge lately."
"We all have, son." Bobby replied softly. He'd seen good brotherly relationships, but never one like Sam and Dean's. Not being together, it was killing them. Hell, look at Sam, from terminal cancer to the worst hangover he'd seen in years, and Dean, desperate enough to go to Ellen... Then it hit him.
"Dean! You're not going to-"
"No!" Dean seemed to read his thoughts, surprised the older man thought he'd sink to that level. Well, Maybe for Sam... In dire situations. "I wouldn't- I'd feel- I'd never hurt Ellen or Jo like that..."
Bobby nodded. "Okay, Dean. Call me once you figure it out. Hope it works, and you shouldn't need a whole body's worth. Enough to make her dizzy, though, so take care, Dean."
...
Ellen had told him to meet her at the Sundance Hotel, tenth floor, and Dean had almost turned around once he'd reached the richer part of the big city, but kept going. He was surprised to find the Sundance to be a really nice hotel, feeling awkward parking his Impala next to a Jaguar, so brand friggin' new it ticked him off, gave him a strange urge to key the car and slash the tires.
He blamed it on the stress and refrained.
His boots seemed to clunk heavily as he trekked down the long hallway, muttering 1017 under his breath as he checked each room.
"Ah," He spoke, eyeing the door. He checked his watch. 9:35, he was early. Of course, nice hotels like this needed room keys, the credit card looking kind.
With a shrug and a "nothing to lose" attitude, he tried the handle.
Click.
The door pushed open with ease, never locked, and now he noticed with stupidity the small bottle cap holding the door ajar.
He walked in, kicking it aside, and assessed his surroundings as he closed the door. It was a small room, two beds, both messy, and a beautiful view of the skylight if he may say so himself. Then he noticed the blood. A small spot on the ground.
It was indistinct, the kind of thing anyone but a hunter- and probably a world class detective, he thought, modestly- would sniff out. He slowly put down his duffel, pulled his gun out and cocked it quietly.
This was not good. Totally not good. Back against the wall, he turned the corner and raised his gun.
Something white appeared out of nowhere, twisting his wrist and grabbing the handgun with it's own fingers resting on top of Dean's, yanking him close- and all in about one second.
Big blue eyes met his green ones and Dean found familiarity in them. "Jo." He whispered. Their bodies were close together as she defensively held his gun, her hands tight over his, and their mouths so close he felt her breath as she talked.
"Dean..." She whispered. She didn't get closer, like Dean secretly hoped, but she didn't back away either.
"Hey, Jo." He said softly. "What're you doing here?"
"Taking a break. Visiting my mom." She whispered. She must have just gotten a shower. Her hair was wet and she was wearing a pristine snowy white bathrobe.
The door flew open and hit Dean square in the head. "Damn," He cussed, backing up and rubbing his head.
"Dean?" It was Ellen. Moment over.
He smiled even though he was seeing stars. "Women of the hour, herself! Thought you were dead!" He joked nervously, nodding at the blood.
"Oh. I was cut earlier. Just a stupid thing." She kicked the door closed behind her, hands full of grocery bags, which she set down on the nearest bed. "What's... Going on?" She looked from Dean to Jo and back to Dean for answers.
"For God's sake, get some clothes on Jo!" Dean blushed as she grabbed her stuff and ran back into the bathroom. Ellen sat down on the bed. "What's this surprise visit about, Dean?"
"I need a favor."
She rolled her eyes. "Winchester favors get my family killed." She teased.
"It's for Sam."
Ellen looked up seriously. "What's wrong?"
"It's a curse, but we need our mother's blood. And it didn't say our real mom, which is good cause, you know," She nodded. "And we were thinking... You're like a mother to us. The closest thing anyway."
She looked down and sighed. "Fine."
"Fine?"
"Fine."
"Fine? Just like that?"
"Sure, why not?"
Dean shrugged. He couldn't really think of anything, but he'd had this really nice, long speech planned out to persuade her.
"Anything for Sam." She said.
Dean grinned back at her. "Touché."
...
"So how much are you taking from her?" Jo stood nervously behind Ellen, her arms crossed and brows furrowed anxiously as she watched Dean take out the equipment.
"Enough to make her woozy." He answered. All of his materials had been snagged from an emergency clinic. Don't worry, they had extras.
"Yeah, but how much are you really taking?"
"Uh... Probably one."
"One what?" Jo asked. She looked about ready to explode.
"Maybe two."
"Two what?"
"One or two-"
"Jesus, Jo!" Ellen turned to scold her daughter. "I don't care how much, I don't care as long as I'm here to protect you afterwards without too much trouble and those boys are safe and happy."
She looked back down, defeated. "I know." She made eye contact with Dean and smiled slightly. "I get the same feeling."
...
Bobby drove as close as he dared, fearing any less distance between Dean and his brother might cause a repeat of the events at the hospital.
"I'll leave you here, Sam. Come as soon as you get the call." Sam nodded from the window of his hot-wired car, watching Bobby speed off with Dean's special chant and a small hope it'd all work itself out.
...
"I've got everything now," Dean explained as he helped Ellen lay back. "You stop worrying and just rest."
She complied grudgingly, but all three looked up as Bobby walked throughout the door. "Looks like I found the right place." He said, holding up a slip of paper. Even from afar, Dean recognized with a pang the familiar handwriting.
"I don't want to waste any time." Dean said sternly. "Let's get this over with, yeah?" He brushed past Bobby and grabbed the rest of the supplies from his duffel. Jo raised her eyebrows as he looked at the blood squeamishly.
"What?" He asked. She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing, Hunter."
...
Sam picked up his cell on the first ring. "Sam? That was fast."
"Bobby! How'd it go?"
"You're good. You got the addr-"
"Yeah. See you soon." He flipped his phone shut and sped away, tires squealing.
He knocked on the door timidly, hoping he wouldn't walk in to a bleeding and/or dying Dean. The door opened and Jo half-smirked, giving him a Vanna White, his gaze following her hand to Dean.
He smiled hugely, feeling stupid. "Dean..."
He walked forward to Dean, arms out wide. Dean hugged Sam, not worrying about what Bobby or Ellen was thinking, or the smirk on Jo's face he sensed.
"Hey, Sammy." Dean spoke lamely as they pulled back. Everyone waited with baited breath for a reaction, but all Dean did was cough.
"It's over," Sam said.
"It's over," Dean repeated.
"Alright!" Jo interrupted the silence. "Quit with the bromance. I'm going to bed."
"Honey, there are five of us and two beds." Ellen pointed out as Jo flopped into the middle of one bed, eyes closed and lips curled in a smile.
"I'm leavin'." Bobby informed.
"Yeah," Sam said. "And we can get another room-"
"I won't have it." Ellen protested, and soon enough, the brothers were in one bed and Ellen and Jo shared the other.
"Spoon with me, Sam." Dean mocked, making his younger brother roll his eyes.
"Dude, we've only gotten back together for like, an hour. It's almost midnight, just go to sleep."
Dean grumbled and turned on his side. "Just saying... This is a crappily small bed."
"Crappily?"
"I'm the older brother. I can make up words."
"Sure, Dean. Whatever..." He slurred sleepily. Dean heard his soft snoring, lulling him to sleep like it had all those years ago.
...
"OH MY GOD!" Jo screamed, jerking Sam awake, as well as Ellen.
"What? What!"
Dean's lips were blue, breath barely leaving his lips as he lay still beside his brother.
Thanks again guys for reviews and all that good stuff! And you thought this story was coming to a close... Soon... Just not yet... :) See you next week!