Haven't completely given up, but the whole daily update thing is clearly not going to happen. Sorry. Life's too full of angst and heartbreak at the moment for it to be productive enough to do that. Here's the next chapter though, hope you like it. Please review xx
Dean waited with bated breath as Sam stirred in the cool water of the bathtub, horrified at the thought that he would be freaked out at the fact that Dean had been playing with his hair, let alone bathing him in the first place.
"De…Dean?" Sam rasped, eyes blearily blinking slowly up at him. "What's going on?"
Air whooshed out in a rush, and Dean's terror turned to heartbreak at the sight of his injured brother slumped over in the tub. "You passed out again, Sam, for nearly a whole day. We gotta get you fixed up 'cause this ain't healing nicely."
Sam groaned in response. "Why am I in the bath?"
Dean fidgeted a little with his slightly damp plaid shirt. "You, uhh…you were kinda stinkin' out the room, Sammy. Had to get you cleaned up before they sent in animal control to see what died in here."
That got a snort out of Sam, and Dean felt fuzzy inside that even if it was an awkward situation and his brother was pretty badly hurt, he could still get a laugh out of him.
"C'mon buddy, let's get you dried off and back in bed."
Fighting the urge to let his eyes or hands linger as they had been (platonically, of course, reassurance that he was safe…), Dean helped to hoist Sam out of the water and wrapped him in a towel, smirking at the indignant look he was being sent.
"Don't give me that face Sammy, not my fault if you're girling around fainting everywhere. I don't want you keeling over and cracking your head open on the bath, cause that would just be embarrassing."
Pride evidently wounded, Sam conceded to Dean's manhandling and proceeded to bombard the other with questions about how he'd been treating the wound and heart beats per minute while he was out and if he could bring him a pizza or three to eat because he was starving. Dean, personally, enjoyed the questions, as it meant his brother was fine and shit, yeah he was really hungry.
Fed and watered (well, beer-ed), Dean fussed over Sam, getting more and more comfortable in his role as Nurse Dean. For his part, Sam was somewhat exasperated at the attention, and slightly fed up with the constant pandering.
Bandages were changed, pillows fluffed, and Nurse Dean gently rearranged Sam's long limbs on the bed. With a last, tentative pat of his head that had Sam rolling his eyes, Dean ordered Sam to sleep and resigned to perching on his own bed.
"Hey Dean?"
He grunted in response, pretending to be absorbed in cleaning the guns.
"Weird question, but…were you, uh, touching my hair?" The smirk and barely withheld amusement was evident in Sam's voice.
Dean froze. Coughing, he spluttered, "Just, uhh, checking for nits, Sammy. Hair's gettin' so long 's ridiculous. Go to sleep."
And with that, Dean flung himself into his pillow, fully dressed, and tried to force himself into unconsciousness.
On the other side of the room, aware of Dean's obvious lie and secretly pleased he'd revealed his tender side by playing with his –yes, admittedly long- hair, Sam smiled slightly as he once again fell asleep.
"Hey Dean can we go do something today?"
Dean looked up in surprise. "What, like a case? Don't think you're quite ready for that." And he was right. Sam loomed above where Dean was sitting at the room's desk, but he held himself guardedly and was still hobbling somewhat from the pulling in his back.
Laughing, Sam shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "No, not a case,", he said, mouth twisting awry as he turned away. "Don't worry about it."
"No no Sammy we can go do somethin'. Just didn't want you thinkin' I'd let you do anything fun like getting' beat up by some more fangs." Dean put just enough lilt in his tone so his brother would know he was joking, but the worry still shone through clear as day. No way in hell was he putting Sam at risk until he was a month beyond completely healed.
"Oh…uh…thanks, I guess. Why don't we go see a movie or something? We haven't seen anything not on pay-per-view for months."
Dean's eyes lit up. "A movie! Great! I'll get my jacket and the car, you…you take care of that situation you got going there, eh? You look like a hobo." With a wink, Dean jauntily exited their motel room leaving an indignantly gaping, decidedly shaggy Sam behind.
They pushed out of the cinema doors, laughter tears streaming down Sam's face as Dean angrily swiped at the ones dripping down his own. "It's not funny, Sam! Allergic reaction or something, might've been a cat in the theatre, or, or maybe I'm just allergic to sap!"
Sam snorted. "Mhm. Yeah okay buddy. You want a tissue, or would you rather the whole box? Or did you just want me to hold your hand and cuddle you while you drive?"
Dean turned a beet red. In all honesty, he wouldn't mind that, the contact. Feeling his brother's large, warm body all wrapped up in his, limbs entwining and breathing his scent…Wait, what? No! No no no! This is Sam, not some other person he could feel attracted to. Male or female didn't really matter; he'd appreciated both forms, but his brother? Clearly he needed to get out more. But in the meantime, Sam was waiting for a response.
He snorted huffily and told Sam explicitly what he could do with that hand and slammed into the car, sneaking peeks out of his periphery at the moose fitting himself into the passenger seat, satisfied smirk in place.
"Dunno why we had to see a chick flick anyway, could'a seen somethin' else…" he mumbled, revving the engine.
"Dude, it was either that or some kiddie movie. Small towns only like this don't have many screening options, y'know. Ooh hey, could we stop by the library for a sec? I want to check something out."
Grunting his assent, the pair swung into the turn off and climbed out.
Down in the dusty rows at the far back, Sam had his nose buried in a book whilst Dean leant against the stacks whistling Hey Jude. Maybe he was just a little bored, but he found it kind of cute how the corners of Sammy's mouth would twitch into a smile whenever he got to the chorus.
As an experiment – purely out of curiosity, no extenuating non-platonic incentives -, Dean sang the next chorus softly, facing just enough away from Sam that he wouldn't notice sneaky side looks.
Sam's head snapped up and he stared in wonder at his brother, keenly listening to the tune. Dean had to force himself to not smile in response, pretending to ignore his brother and carry on singing til the end.
When he'd finished, he glanced over at Sam questioningly. "You okay, dude?"
"Y-yeah…just…you used to sing me that as a lullaby when we were kids." Sam's voice caught in his throat.
Dean smiled. "Yeah, I guess I did."
"You should sing more often, you seem to like it."
Only 'cause it seems to make you happy, Sammyboy.
Woops, have I really been MIA for this long? I'm so sorry! Uni exams and the casual getting my poor little heart ripped from my chest…the usual. Please review to fuel my motivation!