Disclaimer: don't own Supernatural or any of its characters, the usuals.
Now - a BIG shoutout to PsychoPicasso, Rosetta Brunestud, Eliza Ghost, firecracker189, Psycho33, snseriesfan, Subtext78 and Sesshomaru-gal! I L-U-V your reviews! Thank you!
Honestly, I've been on lazy-break for the past few months! BUT, seems like I'm getting back my writing mojo, so I hope to get this series really rolling! I hope you'll enjoy ;)
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Being a Winchester isn't for sissies
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It's not thirty minutes later, before Sam starts yawning. Like YAWNING. He's sucking in half his bodyweight in oxygen and he tries his best to keep his eyes from drooping. Keep watch.
And that's what kept him going. For another fifteen minutes. Lookie left, lookie right. Nothing. Dean seemed to be stable and Sam starts wondering again. Because Sam's brain is the only part of his body still remotely active. Sam's brain starts wondering if DAD wasn't just a TAD paranoid –like usual. Sam's brain starts wondering if Dean's fluctuations were normal considering the werewolf attacks, stress, gunshot and broken ribs on top of the appendicitis. Sam's brain starts to think, "Dude, I could go for a cheeseburger"
He peers inside Dean's room again. All's stable and well. Dean was sleeping soundly for the first time in a week and didn't even seem to be having any nightmares. He was even curled on his side, which was an improvement over the sleep-in-one-position-all-night mode he'd been in for a while now.
Dean's okay.
Sam's brain's got to thinking: Call Dad. Get Cheeseburger. Get sleep.
Sam sighs tiredly and stares blankly at his phone for a second before remembering what he actually unlocked his phone for. He scrolls down and finally clicks on John's number. He waits for a second and then lifts the phone to his ear.
One ring.
Two rings.
"Didn't I tell you that IM-ing your boyfriends in Standford is off the table until we snuffed out the Stugoi?" John's voice suddenly sounds off right next to Sam's ear.
Sam blinks at the phone, looks over to his dad and realised he's still on the line. He ends the call and drops the phone in his pocket, "Dad… um… "
"I know… I expected the thing to strike again. Sun'll rise in less than two hours… Best bet: the thing went into hiding," John rubs absently over his black-bruised eye and winches on contact, "We might as well get dinner… breakfast… "
"Let's go with dinner, I don't want to say it's breakfast if I hadn't slept yet," Sam says with a lopsided smile and walks over to Dean's bed along with their father.
John lifts the top sheet for a moment and softly takes the Glock from Dean's relaxed grip. John tucks it away at the back of his jeans and covers it with his jacket. He was proud that Dean managed to stay awake enough to keep the Glock on-hand, and not just lying on the bed forgotten while he slept… but, all was well in the land of the Winchesters now and there'd be no sense in a lovely little nurse discovering a 9 mil with one of her patients. Nope. That'd mean some Blue Bloods on the scene and John would rather NOT move Dean anywhere unless it was a Code Red.
The older Winchester's still fully asleep, not even feverish anymore. He really seemed to have made some sort of miracle recovery in the short while.
So, the awake pair of hunters head out of the recovery room and heads down to the vending machine at the end of the hall. It wasn't really agreed upon, in fact, both of them desperately wanted something warm and yummy… not vending machine's cold and crunchy to eat. But neither is willing to opt out on this mission, just in case either was wrong.
Sam grabs a pack of dried fruit and a can of lemonade. John goes for some fried pork rind crisps and one of those drinks that apparently gives you wings – the slogan freaked a sleepy Sam out when he saw it. Poor kid, WILD imagination when he's tired.
"So… demon hunt in Wakita…?" Sam finally wrestles out, praying that the non-present Dean would appreciate the effort.
"Yep…"
Not exactly a conversationalist.
"You got it?" Sam tries again, waits patiently for a more concise answer.
"Sure did…"
Fuck it. The youngest shoves a handful of dried apricots in his mouth to stop himself from being an 'ungrateful brat' again. He smiles obscenely when John finally looks over.
John grimaces at the apricot-covered smile and reminds himself that Sam was always a bit more goofy and emotional when he was tired. Dean was the complainer and got argumentative. He mightn't have always been there, but that didn't mean he didn't know his boys well.
"Why don't you lie down, I'll keep watch?" John suggests and pats his knee, "I'll wake you up when it's light…"
Sam stares affronted at John's knee and snorts. He shuffles himself lower in his own chair and tucks his chin down into his crossed arms, "Thanks," he says and does a short Zumba-session on his chair to get himself comfortable.
It makes John laugh.
And, just as Sam's head gives the first nod, a loud clang suddenly resounds from down the hall. It takes a split-second for Sam to react, but John's up and running towards the door. Sam's quick to follow and they both burst into Dean's room at the same time.
The bedpan was lying on the floor, a huge dent on the side and Doctor de Sousa was lying on the floor, a pool of blood forming around her head.
The pair of hunters look up, expecting the Strugoi to be standing there… but it's only a twitchy Dean, eyes wide and his hands trembling.
"Did you see that fugly thing?! I think it's a vampire or... something.." Dean yells and points to Alicia. He lifts up his bedsheet, inadvertedly flashing the unsuspecting family members in the process, "What the hell happened to my gun!"
"You're on meds! You shouldn't have something like that with you anyway! AND this is why! You threw a bedpan at a nurse! She'll be lucky if she's alive!" Sam yells back. He quickly bends down and checks for a pulse. Shit, we just killed a nurse. We are so dead!
Sam KNOWS that morphine and aneasthesia always gets Dean to do some loopy stunts... and he KNOWS Dean's brain had GOT to be fried after everything that's happened... but this?!
"I had to throw the friggen' bedpan! SOMEONE took my Glock!" Dean counters, he clenches his fists to stop his fingers from shaking so much. He clutches the side where the accidental friendly-firing incident with Sam hit him. It's obvious he's in pain, but at least it's not for the same reasons as to why they rushed to the Hospital in the first place...
... Now it's just the gunshot, fractured ribs and the fact a 300-pound Werewolf smushed him int ground... yeah, Dean Winchester was fine and dandy.
"Dean -" John starts, his voice stern and angry, but Dean's quick to stop him.
"Dad, you have to shoot… it's some kind of Shtriga or vampire or something!" Dean yells in a panic, his face completely white and his voice shaking like he's got an internal quake.
"Dean, you almost killed one of the nurses who were taking care of you! She isn't one of the things we hunt, she's normal! And IF I can stop the bleeding, she'll STAY ALIVE!" Sam snaps, but just as he reaches forwards to stop the bleeding, a pair of large pearly whites sink into his neck. A quick, draining feeling that instantly made Sam feel like he was reeling, like he just completely lost control of his legs .
"DAD!" Dean yells out, then quickly diverts his attention back to Sam and picks up the water-vase on his bed stand and flings it at the thing.
The misthrown glass that shatters against Sam's back is enough to get John out of his state. The glass slices through Sam's shirt, but also managed to slice the now ash-white-skinned Stugoi Alicia enough to elicit an almost banshee screech. John doesn't wait for the thing to recover; he retrieves his gun and finally nails the bitch right between the eyes.
The Strugoi de Sousa instantly turns to ashes and leaves –a pair of shoes, the coat, dress, nametag and wig behind- Sam covered in a thick coating of Stugoi death chalk. And what's worse, the WATER in the vase made the ash cling. To Sam's EVERYWHERE.
"Who the hell taught you to throw?!" Sam turns around, slowly-mind you- since he still felt like passing out from the Strugoi's bite.
"Who the heeewllls-" was all Dean managed to say before collapsing back on the bed. Completely passed out. Not fainted. Because Winchesters don't do fainting. That shit's for sissies.
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Not done yet! Please drop me a pm or review if you liked it!