Hey guys, sorry these chapters aren't coming along as fast as I want them to, I'm back in classes full time and back to working in the spare time that I'm not at the gym and not doing papers.
All mistakes are my own, and if Supernatural was mine, I certainly wouldn't be in this tiny dorm, on the internet.
I love your reviews though, they help brighten a day filled with papers and statistical equations.
And I would just like to say… YouTube can officially kiss this, I will not be posting on that site anymore. If they feel the need to reject every new video people post and some old ones, including a SUPPORT THE TROOPS video, they can screw themselves. Out of the twenty something videos I have uploaded, only 16 show, and they even took down one that I filmed at home, claiming the content owners rejected it… I am the freaking content owner!!!! I did not freaking reject it.
Deep breath, stepping from the soapbox…
Anyway…
I hope you're still enjoying.
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'Do you think about what you've been through
You never thought you'd be so depressed
Are you wondering
Is it life or death?'
One X – Three Days Grace
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As Dean and Sam walked down the stairs, Sam leaning heavily on his brother, they both felt a certain calm in the air. It was as if everything had been thrown under a blanket, and Sam groaned in relief as his headache let up a little bit.
He staggered when he stepped down from the last step, catching himself on Dean, before steadying, and taking more off his brother. He breathed a sigh of relief as the pain eased almost completely, mentally thanking Missouri for whatever she had done to alleviate the pressure that had been building and weighing on his mind for days.
"You're welcome, honey," Missouri answered from behind him, setting her hand on his shoulder and making him jump. The abrupt motion brought with it a rush to his head, making him dizzy, and tilting the world surrounding him.
Sam shut his eyes tightly against the unsteadying sensation, the hand that rested on Dean's shoulder in involuntarily clenching, alerting his brother to his predicament.
"Sam?" Even without the concern evident in the older man's voice, the tightening of the arm around his ribs belied the other man's worry.
"Sorry child," Missouri again, her tone regretful, the hand on his shoulder lifting up to pat him gently.
"I'm okay," Sam breathed, cautiously opening his eyes and peering "puppily" at his brother and the older woman. "Food?" he asked, his stomach settling enough that the prospect of food no longer nauseated him, even as the rest of the wooziness abated. In turn his stomach rumbled at the suggestion of being filled, and Missouri smiled, a little chuckle coming from Dean beside him.
"Yes, food." Missouri led the way through the hallway and into the kitchen, lifting a stack of plates to carry them out into the dining room.
Dean led him to the table, making sure he was sitting before heading around the table to sit down himself. Sam scooted himself forward, feeling the edge of the table steadily at his ribs, and looked up as Missouri set a plate of chicken and roasted potatoes in front of him. His cheeks dimpled and she smiled back at him, moving to fill a plate for Dean and then one for herself as well before sitting down.
"Smells good," Dean grinned, licking his lips and looking to Missouri for permission to start devouring the plate before him.
"Well go ahead, dig in." She said, making a shooing motion, and Dean's smile widened impossibly further, his hands already moving for the knife and fork set beside his plate.
Sam watched him with a smirk before having to look away as Dean tore at the food like a wild animal. His brother had no table manners, Sam shook his head ruefully.
Mindful of his own manners, and his lately rebellious stomach, Sam ate slowly, cutting each piece evenly and chewing slowly, waiting a minute before taking another bite.
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By the end of dinner Sam had finished the chicken and half of the potatoes, all he could manage on a stomach that hadn't had anything in days. Dean had watched him the whole time, and every time Sam looked up and caught him, he pretended he wasn't. Sam knew he was worried, but there wasn't anything he could do to assuage those fears without making himself sick in the process.
As it was, he could already feel the churning in his gut from the little he ate, and prayed that he would be able to keep it down.
"Sam?" The voice speared through his thoughts, and Sam looked up under his bangs to see Dean looking at him sympathetically. It was like the older man could read his thoughts and knew that Sam was doing everything he could not to get sick.
"M'alright," he mumbled, and knew the lie wasn't convincing anyone.
"Sure you are honey," the voice came from his left and Sam turned to see Missouri look at him knowingly. "All the same, why don't you two go watch some TV while I clean this up."
"I-" can help. She cut him off before he could finish the thought.
"Nonsense, Sam; go and relax." Sam blushed and nodded, not getting any farther than to start pushing himself up, before Dean was there beside him. He pulled Sam's arm over his shoulder, not giving him the chance to try (and fail) on his own, and led him into the living room, plopping him on the couch, before going over to peruse the movies, lined alphabetically on the shelves next to the tv.
"Dude, awesome collection." Dean breathed, looking over the titles, wondering how Missouri could have just about every one of his favorite movies.
"Why thank you," Missouri's voice drifted through from the kitchen.
Sam looked up and smiled, turning to Dean who held out a movie to him. "What do you feel about Shawshank?" Sam's smile widened, remembering the first time they had seen the movie.
"Man, did you see that?" Dean asked, his eyes bright as he looked down his eleven year old brother. "The way he got out, sticking it to the man…" Dean grinned, spacing out for a second before settling his gaze back on Sam, "That was awesome!"
"Sounds good man." He answered with a smile, and Dean's eyes danced. The older man popped the movie in, and plopped himself down on the opposite side of the couch.
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Two hours later, with Dean commenting on every move Andy Dufresne made, and Sam wasn't so sure that watching this movie in particular had been the best idea. Every time he started to get into the movie, one of Dean's wayward commentaries would rip him right back out.
Sure he was happy that Dean was having a good time, but he wished his brother would just shut up for a minute and let him enjoy the movie. If that happened he might have something to concentrate on, other than the returned pounding in his head, and the churning in his stomach.
Every breath he took set his nerves on edge, and every move Dean made worsened the pain and churning, making him wonder just when whatever Missouri had done had worn off. It wasn't that he could ask her, the woman having gone to bed a little into the second hour of the movie, claiming exhaustion but Sam could tell she had wanted to be rid of Dean's commentary just as much as Sam did.
Dean made one comment too many and Sam snapped, "Would you just be quiet and watch the damn movie." Dean's wide eyed look was almost comical, but Sam just turned back to the movie, his little outburst sending what felt like rusty shears into his brain.
He slumped into the couch and tried to ignore the looks Dean shot at him, concentrating instead on breathing through the pain. The only problem with his plan was the fact that every breath he took seemed to worsen the pain, and Sam longingly wished for the clouded hold of painkillers and the soft sheets of a bed. He kept his mouth shut though, not wanting to worry Dean, knowing that he had already failed in that prospect when he had first snapped at the older man.
Another spike drove itself into his head, and Sam clenched his eyes, bringing up a hand to fist in it his hair. When another drove in, he groaned and hunched over, burying his face into his knees, fighting the urge to bite down on the pant clad legs.
"Sam?" He dimly heard, but he didn't have the strength to lift his head and look at his brother, jerking instead when a fresh wave of pain assaulted him. "Sammy? C'mon little brother look at me," panic now, but still Sam couldn't do anything but twist his fisted hands against his head, praying for the pain to stop.
His breath hitched when Dean touched him, the simple gesture spreading fire through him. He heard something (expensive) shatter, and felt Dean jump next to him, the move fueling the flames running rampant in him.
"Don't t-touch me," Sam ground out, and when Dean made no move to take his hand away, he sobbed out, "please!" The hand was gone in split second and immediately the pain worsened and Sam yearned for its warmth and comfort.
"Oh, god!" He sobbed out and curled into himself all the tighter, knowing his brother understood when the hand was replaced against the small of his back. It didn't do anything to stop the pain, but it helped with the panic.
"Sorry," it was no more than a whisper, and Sam didn't understand the statement. "MISSOURI!" Dean screamed, and Sam whimpered at the flash of pain, hearing a crack, and feeling the couch jerk down on his side.
"Please," he moaned, leaning over towards Dean, curling into the comfort of his brother, begging for the pain to end.
TBC
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A/N: And look at that, I bet you all hate me right now! :D The queen of cliffs is back!!!
This is becoming too much fun and way too easy to write.
I hope you all enjoyed.
Take care and review often,
DS