Garth wisely remained silent as Sam guided the car down the mud-slick road. Sam had wanted to be on his way to town by 8 a.m. and now it was going on 5 p.m. and he wasn't likely to get over the reason for the delay any time soon. Garth wanted to discuss the talisman and question whether it was wise to leave Dean alone and allow him to remain in a cabin that lacked electricity but…no. Oh no, nope, not going there, he was too fond of his teeth to go there.
It took twenty minutes to travel the ten miles to the motel they'd stopped at the night before and Sam had yet to say a word. Garth remained in the car while Sam entered the mini-mart and obtained directions to the nearest town. By the look on his face when he returned to the car, it was obvious the town was further away than he was happy with.
"Want me to drive?" Garth was already sliding across the seat so Sam veered around the car and opened the passenger door. Garth had wondered why Sam insisted he accompany him rather than remain with Dean and now he knew.
"You put this car in a ditch and I swear to God Garth, I will leave you naked on the side of the road." Sam sank into the seat and laid his head against the window. "Get on 824 and go south. Closest town with a pharmacy is twenty-four miles away."
"Ok….ok…sure….but Sam, hey….do you, I mean, well….if the symptoms are a result of the talisman…why bother to get the prescription filled? Do you really believe it'll help him?"
"Cause he still fell down a flight on concrete stairs and pain like that doesn't go away just because you're cured of a magical curse inflicted upon you from a talisman wielded by a ghost." Sam rolled his head. "He hurts Garth, and he's gonna for a while and even if I had enough Vicodin sample packets, it isn't going to hold him."
"Oh."
Silence.
"Didn't he….I mean….there were…more sample packets…." Garth ventured.
"NO!"
Garth let it go, gawking about while driving just under the posted speed limit. Talk about being in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. If only Sam would force Dean to get in the car….he slid a sideways glance at Sam, no, no, best not bring that up either.
"Drop me off….and go find everything on this list." Sam handed him a piece of paper. "Town should have a grocery store. Half an hour Garth." he climbed from the car. "Don't make me come find you."
"Everything?" Garth repeated. "Dude, this is like a….one-street town. How am I supposed to….?"
"Improvise Garth! You're a damn hunter – we make do." Sam slammed the door and walked into the pharmacy.
"No, right…no problem….sure dude….right, anything for you." Garth reread the list and pulled out.
***000***
Oh-holy-mother-fucker, he was being tortured – again: His toenails were being pulled from his toes, heated spikes had been driven into his hip, hot pokers filleted the skin from his shoulder, thumb screws twisted every finger on his left hand and something was repeatedly hammering at his elbow.
"OW!" Dean woke with a violent jerk, screaming in agony as he flailed about in attempt to withdraw from whatever was killing him. "WAA-AARRGH!" the sofa was plush, the cushions soft and plump, giving him no purchase to push himself up to a sitting position. He didn't give up – not that he knew it was a sofa he was fighting to free himself from – determined to conquer the evil that entrapped him. "SAM!" he choked, fighting the pain, the blanket, the sofa, his stomach….the very air around him. "SAA-AMM!"
Pain from the impact of his foot kicking the arm of the sofa left him limp and panting but also knocked him clear-headed. "Fuck-me." he groaned a moment later into the pillow. "Sam?" he blinked repeatedly until the dim room came into focus. "Sam? Sam? Hey, I… don't….feel so…..good." he struggled to sit up but both the sofa and his body decided he should remain lying down. He groaned again, stomach roiling. His full-body stretch halted mid-yawn with a yelp that made his toes curl. His right foot obeyed his request to flex and rotate but his left…? Huh.
He rested a moment then resumed his struggles but pain forced his submission and his stomach, having taken exception to his repeated attempts, gave him scant warning before deciding to empty itself. It was amazing what a person, who couldn't force his body to obey a simple command, could do when faced with lying in their own vomit. He flung his entire body to the right, rolling onto his shoulder and hip in time to hang his head off the sofa and upchuck in the bucket sitting on the floor next to the sofa.
Oooh, oooowww, eeeeeeee…Christ, he felt like crap. Where the hell was Sam? Why wasn't his annoying-never-stays-where-he's-put brother bringing him a glass of water and a towel to wipe the sweat from his face? Maybe a pathetic whine and a pitiful grunt would bring him running.
Dean gave it a try – nothing. All he wanted – needed – was something to drink and the bucket removed. As his stomach tried to settle – without the soothing aid of ginger-ale – his mind cleared and fragments of memories started flashing back to him; right, Sam hadn't been feeling good. If Dean's play-acting hadn't brought him running all wide-eyed and soft-toned, he must really feel like shit.
His left arm found it cozy to remain against his side and lookee there, wooo-weee, he had three knees! Well, okay, didn't really need his left arm anyway and only two knees were required to walk. Course, he also needed two feet and looking at his left foot…..he squinted, mind diverted when he realized all he wore was underwear.
"Oye."
His hip – man, Sam could have at least found and plugged in the heating-pad – ached but didn't prohibit movement. It was his stomach and pelvis that prevented him from gaining an upright position. He licked his lips, tongue flailing as though trying to dislodge a piece of lint. His throat was scratchy, his mouth sucked dry of moisture and he simply had to have something to drink.
"Sam!"
He wanted water and the bucket taken away but Sam failed to make an appearance. Well, fine, let Sam play the part of injured little prick, who needed him anyway? Dean clamped his jaw closed, gritted his teeth and in a moment of sheer lunacy, swung his feet to the floor with the intent to sit up and-What the hell was he doing on the fucking floor? Why hadn't his ear-splitting shriek of pain brought Sam running? Sam would sleep through Dean's fake moans and groans and playful attempts to gain his attention and sympathy, but he always responded to the true sounds of Dean in pain or distress.
"SAMMY!?" he couldn't move, he tried but he couldn't even push the table away or squirm into a comfortable position. With nothing else to do except wait in extreme discomfort to pass out, he let his mind wander and search for answers. Where was Sam?
The hunt – Garth – the ER – the motel – his missing cell – back to the ER – Sam in town – Garth – driving to the motel – motel not where he'd left it – Sam on the phone – Sam yelling at him – Sam dragging him from the car – riding in the car with Sam – Sam dragging him from the car – Sam making him take a bath – a bath! – bits and pieces of conversation and arguments – something about a curse and a cure – oh – Garth.
Well, he might've broken a bone or thrown his shoulder out again or given himself a concussion – not that he could tell – falling from the sofa, but hey, at least, he hadn't managed to knock over the bucket from his ungainly crash to the floor.
***000***
Sam wandered the aisles of the chain drug-store, swinging a basket. He doubted Dean would feel much like eating, and though Sam would never outwardly show any concern, he searched for foods he knew his brother would be tempted to eat; box of donuts, loaf of bread – though not having done it since he'd been a teen, Sam was sure he could still toast bread over a flame – jar of jelly, package of hot-dogs, can of soup, did drug-stores sell cooking pots? Bottled water, let's see, what else….Huh, wow, was it warm in the store or what? .
Right, okay Sam…..sit down before you fall down. He staggered to the pharmacy at the back of the store where, with a sheepish smile, he took a seat between two elderly ladies on a hard plastic chair. If he were to remain standing, he'd face-plant on the floor, an ambulance would be called, Garth wouldn't have a fucking clue what had happened and Sam couldn't count on him not to try and find him instead of going back to the cabin to be with Dean.
Once he had the prescription, the ingredients for the cure and was back at the cabin, Dean tended and treated and given the cure, then – then – Sam could submit to his body's weaknesses but not before. This time, Dean came first and it was up to Sam to see that he did. He laid his head against the wall and let his eyes close. Garth…..good God…..would he come through with the list?
Willow Bark for fever, vinegar and comfrey leaves for bruises, Bromelain, Ginger and Aloe for swelling, Sandalwood to keep the symptoms and effects of the talisman from advancing. Once Dean had taken the – antidote(s) was as good term as any – the talisman's spell would cease to be effective and modern medicine would see him well on his way to comfort and recovery.
What the…? He didn't recall dozing off or passing out, hadn't been aware of a change in his breathing or making any noise but he must have exhibited some kind of distress because…..his knee was patted, his wrist chafed and his hand squeezed. A warm palm cupped his cheek and patted lightly. His eyes shot open, but as his body prepared for imminent threat, his mind concluded there was no danger and he relaxed.
"Are you ok dearie?" the kind, wrinkled, concerned faces of the two elderly ladies he sat between hovered over him, their hands a flutter as they chattered to one another, peering at him from either side.
"You're quite pale." one dug about in the suitcase on her lap Sam was sure she called a purse and withdrew a daintily embroidered hanky. The other got to her feet and shuffled over to the water bottle and filled a cone-cup. Sam licked his lips….that water was going to taste soooooo…..wait….what was she doing? The seated lady dipped a corner of her hanky in the cup and began dabbing between his eyebrows and down his nose to his upper lip.
"Huh?" he blinked, trying to focus his eyes as well as his thoughts. "Where'm…oh." he heard the rustling of plastic, the opening of a wrapper and the scent of chocolate assaulted his nostrils. "Oh…er….I don't….no thank you." the last thing he wanted was anything to eat, but they were so eager to help and obviously wanted to please that he didn't have the heart to disappoint them so he took a bite
"There's a good boy." was crooned at him. "Small bites, chew it all before swallowing."
More dabs at his lip and cheeks and his tongue darted out with a will of its own, searching for water. The gesture was understood and seconds later, the cup bumped his chin, held by a slightly unsteady hand as he was cautioned to take small sips. Another bite of chocolate…..nougat but no caramel…light and airy….melted on his tongue…..and surprisingly, after several minutes, the overwhelming light-headedness subsided and he felt…..huh, he felt…..better.
"There he is!" she beamed proudly, handing the remaining candy bar to him. "All you needed was a little sugar."
"Aaah…..thanks…thank you." he stuttered. "I'm good."
"You are still very pale, my boy. My goodness, you gave us a fright!"
"Aah…well….yeah…see, I….sorry." he finished lamely.
"Sam, you ready?" Garth was standing in front of him. "You said half an hour! I've been…Sam? Hey, hi, it's me —Garth." he added at Sam's blank look. "Oh say now, you're not gonna pretend you don't know me, are you?"
"Aah, no…."
"You good to go?"
"I'm not finished shopping…..need instant heat and ice packs….and…."
"For Dean? Dude, you sure?…okay, okay…don't be looking at me like that. Right, no electric but hot towels…no? Okay, come on, I gotta pick up a couple things too. You got the prescription? Cool, ok, good, so…..how you gonna pay for it?
***000***
"What the fuck is this?" Sam demanded as he pawed through the bag on his lap, Garth driving. "How could you screw this up? I gave you a list Garth! A specific, detailed list!"
"I got everything on your list!" Garth said defensively. He was beginning to get just a tad bit irritated with Sam's ungratefulness, constant dissatisfaction, attitude and threats.
"In what language did you translate, 'Calgon take me away' to?"
"LOOK OUT THE WINDOW SAM!" Garth raised his voice. "The town has five streets. Five! One ma and pa grocery store and I'll tell ya, Sam, it had two check-out counters. Just where did you expect me to find Sandalwood!?"
"That's what this is supposed to be? Sandalwood?" he read the label. "Moon Petal Musk." he wrinkled his nose in doubt. "Yeah, I'll let you be the one to tell him you're gonna spray him down with women's body spray."
"It has Sandalwood." Garth snapped. "There's bubble bath too."
"I meant oil or incense….."
"There's candles and incense in the bag too." Garth growled, deciding it best not to mention it was perfumed incense. "I did the best I could Sam. If you can do better, I will turn around."
Sam chose to ignore him. "Fresh ginger….good, though he's not gonna like drinking it mixed with hot water." Sam talked to himself. "Will have to make it into a powder first….doable…..Aloe gel…..good, can just rub that in." a snort. "He's gonna love that….okay…we're good on swelling. So, next…bruises…vinegar, huh, got that right….comfrey leaves….comfrey…..I don't see…..oh…tea leaves with comfrey…will have to do I guess. Let's see, Bromelain vitamins….huh….cudda got a fresh pinapple….no matter…like I could get Dean to eat fruit, riigghhtt…..hell, I'll be lucky to get him to eat anything….Ok, last…..willow bark tea…willow bark…willow…. I don't….."
"I couldn't find any." Garth admitted. "I…." he braced himself for the explosion followed by a massive melt-down but Sam shrugged and set the bag on the floor."
"I'll find a tree in the woods at the cabin."
"You know….you know how to do that? Make the tea, I mean?"
"Yeah, I know how." he didn't add Dean didn't like the taste no matter what was added to blunt the bitterness and went back to talking to himself. "…..still need ice, can stop at that mini-mart near the cabin….maybe get some lemon or honey for the tea…hey, pull in." he interrupted himself suddenly, startling Garth who jerked the wheel and swerved, losing the backend. "Jesus Garth! WATCH what the HELL you're doing!" Sam yelped as the back tires swung to the right and off the berm. "GET back on the ROAD!"
"STOP scaring me like that!" Garth exclaimed. "You make me nervous and then you start yelling at me!"
"Next time, I will leave you behind." Sam vowed absently. "Turn around, you passed it."
"I passed what?" Garth couldn't keep up with Sam's mood swings. "You know Sam, I'm tired and hungry and I'd like to find myself at the cabin. Getting back there is…."
"And Dean is bruised and swollen and cursed." Sam barked. "Hey, why's that again Garth? Oh, right, he was thrown down a flight of concrete stairs on your watch."
"You know…." Garth's fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the steering wheel. "I'm beginning to feel you hold that against me?'
"Beginning to? Hell, what was your first clue?" Sam asked sarcastically. "And stop that tapping or I will break every finger you have."
Garth puffed-up in outrage. "Now see here Sam….eeeEEEEee!" he squawked when Sam grabbed the wheel and fought him for control. "Okay, OKAY, let go…..Sam….I said let go. I'll stop, see? I'm stopping, now let go. Sam, letgoletgoletgo... LET GO!"
Sam relinquished his hold on the wheel and Garth slowed the car and his heart rate as he pulled to the side of the road. "Now." he swallowed, almost able to breathe again. "Pull in where? There's nothing out here."
"You missed it, turn around."
"Missed what?" Garth asked, perplexed.
"Gas station."
"We don't need gas."
"Garth!" Sam fought for his temper, and sought his patience. "Turn. This. Car. Around. Or. I. Will. Throw. You. From. It. While. It. Is. Moving."
Garth gulped. Sam hadn't raised his voice but his tone sent shivers down Garth's back. "Okay, ok. Easy there, big dude. Chill out, okay?" he did a U-turn in the road and headed back in the direction they'd just come. "Where….oh there? That building? Aah, yeah…no." Garth shook his head. "You sure? It's a gas station….oh, ice cream? In this weather? Okay, I see….I think I see….no, no I don't see." he felt his skin heat from Sam's intense glare. "Oh, well….sure. I guess."
***000***
"Dean? Hey man, we're back." Sam entered the cabin, arms loaded with bags. "Dean? You awake?" he put the bags on the table and began to unpack them. "Dude, come on, I'm tired and not up to playing games with you."
"Sam." Garth, hands on hips, clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Dean! Seriously, dude, what are you doing on the floor?"
Sam braced his palms on the table but his arms didn't cease shaking so he blindly groped for a chair and awkwardly fell into it. Half his ass missed the seat, the other half overcompensated and he nearly went over backwards. Gaining his balance, he lowered his head to rest on the table. Why couldn't Dean ever do what he was told or stay where he was put?
"You hurt anything?" Garth was asking Dean as Sam came around the sofa and shoved the coffee table out of the way so he could squat down next to his brother.
"Shit Dean, what'd you go and do? Hey, you with me?" Sam shouldered Garth aside. Dean had yet to move or respond to Garth but Sam wasn't about to be ignored. "DEAN!" he felt for broken bones. "Dean, hey! Dean."
"Numpfh." came the reply.
After some shaking, repeated name calling, a slap or two and a couple threats of bodily harm, Dean finally groaned, coming around to Sam's repeated attempts to garner a response from him. "Dean? Hey there, hi." Sam teased when Dean blinked, eyes narrowing but failing to gain focus. "I'm the one in the middle dude." he snapped his fingers. "Hey."
"Don't." Dean muttered, raising a hand to his head. "Cold…..ow…..water?"
"Yeah, come on, get your ass off the floor."
"I'm….good." he swallowed, throat thick. "….here…..."
That was probably true, Sam thought. Wasn't anywhere Dean was going to feel comfortable for a couple of days. Not even with strong pain meds. "Yeah, well….sorry…..no."
"I….I feel….like….."
"Like shit?" Sam grinned. "Yeah, I know you do…come on…..up you go." he'd left Dean on the sofa for two reasons. 1, it was closer to the fire where he'd be warmer and 2, Sam hadn't thought he'd fall off it. Oh, right, it was Dean. "Ready?"
"No."
"Count of three….."
"Go 'way."
"Don't fight me or you'll just hurt yourself." Sam warned. "You didn't appear to hurt anything when you fell off the sofa, though it's hard to tell….how'd you manage to do that anyway?"
"Dunno.
With a litany of ow's and ouch's accompanied by a chorus of grunts and cries and curses, Sam got Dean off the floor, but before he could deposit him on his ass on the sofa, Dean motioned to the bathroom. Sam rolled his eyes, Dean just had to pee now?
By the time Dean was settled on the sofa with his fleece, left foot elevated with ice, a heat pack on his hip, another on his knee and an ice pack on his shoulder, he was limp and quiet from exhaustion. Garth took a seat on the coffee table and tried to tempt Dean with a glass of ginger-ale while telling him all about the drive to town. Sam unpacked the groceries, built a fire in the wood stove and put water on to boil then shaved the ginger root to make a powder fine enough it would dissolve in hot water.
It'd been a long day and a long night loomed. Dean wouldn't willingly submit to being sprayed or bathed or rubbed or babysat. Sam quaffed over the irony. Left alone, the dumbass had somehow managed to fall off the sofa and whack his head hard enough his eyes still refused to focus. No, he would bitch and bicker and banter about why he shouldn't have to drink, nasty, bitter tea or hot, grainy water. He wouldn't want to eat anything but would expect the pain meds to be readily given and he'd rebuff any attempts to make him comfortable or ease his pain.
Sam sighed, stirring the ginger root in a glass of water with a spoon to dissolve it. Dean was always difficult when down with injury or illness and this time would be no different. Good thing Sam had years of experience and an unlimited supply of patience.
"I want you to drink this, Dean." Sam coaxed patiently. "Please? Yeah, I know….smells, but…come on…."
"Wha's't?"
"It…...it's ginger. It'll help….it's a natural blood thinner and will reduce the pooling of blood."
"I know what it does." Dean groused sleepily. "Why…" he struggled to focus and remain awake. "Why I…need it?"
"You're swollen from head to toe Dean…..can't let it get worse."
"Don't want it."
"Tough."
"Getit 'way from me."
"Come on, swallow."
"No."
"You have to take Bromelain too….and since I doubted you'd eat pineapple, I got pills…..Dean….hey, stay awake!"
"Bro-me-what?"
"It aids in the blocking of compounds that cause fluids to pool and swell in the body."
Funny, earlier he'd wanted Sam to make him feel better and now he only wanted the annoying, persistent pain-in-the-ass to go away. "Go 'way Sammy."
"Sure…..soon as you take these and drink this."
"Pain meds?"
"Not yet." Sam set a white Styrofoam cup on the coffee table within Dean's line of sight. When all else failed, Sam knew Dean would buckle to bribery. "Want this?"
"Milkshake?" Dean perked up. "Strawberry?"
"You drink the ginger, take the vitamins and you can have it." Sam waited. "Deal?" silence, no nod of agreement. Huh, milkshakes rarely failed to gain cooperation, so he added. "With more pain meds."
Dean would have agreed to anything Sam suggested to get more pain meds but the cup of water Sam handed him might as well have been a gallon. He spit and dribbled and drooled more than he swallowed but Sam was satisfied with the empty glass and held out two pills and a tablet. "Two vitamins and a pain pill." Sam informed him, and then warned. "Swallow these first and don't you dare chew them."
"Only one pain pill?" Dean accepted a cup of water and swallowed both pills then looked expectedly at the third tablet in Sam's hand. "Gimme."
"They're high dosage." Sam's tone spelled out his disapproval. "If one doesn't hold you, we'll try two next time. Aah-ah, don't swallow, hold it under your tongue until it dissolves."
"Heh?" Dean frowned, trying to comprehend what Sam was telling him. "What…what's wrong with pills?"
"Prescription was either that or suppositories." Sam laughed at the look of dismayed horror to cross his brother's face. "Yeah, you're welcome."
Dean muttered under his breath, shaking his head to brush Sam off when his younger brother demanded he speak up. Well-meaning or not, if Sam thought he was going to bribe Dean into drinking more of that chalk, he was in for one hell of a shock. Okay, so his left arm was having a love affair with his side but his right arm could easily throw a punch should he demand it do so. Let Sam sit and stew about that! Frick-fracking pain-in-the-ass up and disappears then comes back all bossy and demanding and dares to...
What the…..? Good God…..! How dare he…? What the fuck was Samantha doing now? Was he...he was! He was fussing!
Sam's giant paws held a towel and were patting and dabbing it all over Dean's chin and neck and chest, wiping and…..Dean growled his displeasure and smacked Sam's hands away, throwing his arm up to block Sam's renewed attempts to coddle him.
"Iffin' you're fond on those fingers, keep 'em to yourself." Dean threatened.
"You're a mess." Sam said mildly. "Sweat, spit, puke…what you pretended to drink….ginger is sticky…"
"Chalky." Dean corrected. "Leave off, Sam."
"Shush." Sam said soothingly. "Kinda hard to tell where you're bruised and not swollen or swollen and not bruised…so first, I'm gonna give you a bath in…well…." best not to mention it would be in women's bubble bath. "Then sponge you down with vinegar and warm water, then…"
"You're gonna do what?" Dean gave his head a shake, certain his ears were confused translating Sam's words to syllables he could understand.
Wow, words could be lethal. Garth was at the table, pulling apart tea bags and putting all the leaves in a bowl while more water boiled on the stove. If Dean ever used that tone of voice with him, he'd take to his heels and run away. Far away. Far, far away. But Sam? Sam ignored him and went right on talking.
"Lift your head….lemme get the back of your neck."
"SAM!" Dean gasped aghast over being man-handled by his younger brother and being able to do little about it.
"Vinegar has many uses." Sam explained. "In this case, it increases blood flow near the skin's surface to help dissipate the pooled blood. Then, I'll rub you down with aloe lotion and finally, on the bruises that are swollen – 'cause only you would get swollen bruises – I'll apply the comfrey compress Garth is making. Comfrey contains compounds that reduces swelling and promotes the rapid growth of new cells."
Dean held Sam's wrist in a brutal grip, eyes wide in horror. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded. "You. Are. Not. Going. To. Bathe. Or. Rub. Or. Sponge. Me. Or. Apply. Anything. Anywhere. Or. I. Will…..."
"You're cursed." Sam said simply, shaking his arm free and putting the milkshake in Dean's hands. "Drink that while I get your bubble-bath ready."
"Say what?"
Sam stood up and leaned over the back of the couch, nose to nose in his brother's face. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this." Sam smirked, feeling bubbly and buoyant and better than he had since going to Lemay. "When this is all done, I doubt you will ever go hunting with Garth again." he patted his brother's head with a patronizing, condescending pat and snatched his hand away before Dean could grab it, hold it and bite it "Wuv you too!" he laughed. "Yo, Garth!"