Author's Note: So, I've been getting a lot of questions about this story so I thought I'd take a moment to answer a few questions. All right, so here's my policy on taking more than one prompt from the same author. For the sake of being fair to everyone else, I will not do another prompt from the same author until I have done all the other prompts. So, I may get to it or I may not—it all depends on how many other prompts I have to do. Another question was whether I only accepted 25 prompts as this story is called "25 Days of Hurt Sam" and the answer is no, I accept prompts after I reach 25. That being said, I will eventually close this story to requests as I plan for this story to be here until New Years. While it's called "25 Days of Hurt Sam" this story is really a Holiday season story. I will continue until New Years to fulfill all the prompts. I won't; however, be accepting prompts after Christmas. So, if you have a request, submit it before Christmas! And finally, Shannanigans, I'm sorry I didn't throw any drunk Sam in your story! I will be sure to throw that in in an upcoming story, okay? That being said, please be specific in your requests! If you want Sam to be something (like drunk or sick, etc.) please tell me! I'd hate to disappoint anyone!
Okay, onto today's prompt! Lucydolly22 initially requested two different things and let me choose which one to do. As I really dislike the Roadhouse, I went with her second prompt, which was, "Sam is caught in a landslide". I also throw in some elements from her first prompt. This is set after "Nightshifter". I hope you enjoy!
What's worse than being hunted by nearly every branch of law enforcement? Being hunted by nearly every part of law enforcement and not being able to take your bleeding, unconscious, possibly dying little brother to a hospital because of said branches of law enforcement. Oh, and throw in it being a week until Christmas in there and them being in God knew where in the middle of a forest in California.
"Sam, next year for Christmas," Dean muttered as he took another few steps towards the Impala. "We are going to Las Vegas. Think about it, Sammy? Women, beers, poker—good times, right?" He glanced down at his brother's ashen face and sobered up slightly. Sam was in bad shape, that much was obvious. With their newfound status on being probably public enemy #1 on the FBI's most wanted list, there was no way he could risk taking him to a hospital. Still, Sam had lost so much blood already . . .
It had been a simple hunt. Straightforward, obvious—just what they needed to get back into the swing of things after the disastrous incident with the shifter—and they had even managed to kill the vampire before midnight, which was pretty damn good. Dean had been feeling pretty good, Sam had been laughing and smiling and for once, not looking so pensive and withdrawn. The night had been shaping up to be a good one.
And then Sam had run out in front of him, challenging him to a race.
"Jeez, dude, what are you? Five?" Dean had retorted, but he prepared to begin to run anyways.
"Last one there has to—" There had been a sickening crack as the ground underneath his brother had suddenly vanished down the side of the hill. Sam reached out towards Dean and Dean might've said something, though he couldn't remember now what it might've been. Sam vanished in a blur of mud and rock as he swept down the hill.
And then as fast as it had occurred, all was silent.
Too silent.
Dean had found his brother, covered in mud, head bleeding up against a tree. Sam briefly roused, long enough to try to get himself up and report to his older brother that his head was killing him before promptly passing out.
Which led to now, with Dean carrying his brother back to the only home they had ever truly known—the Impala. Easing his brother into the front seat, Dean rushed to the driver's seat and quickly drove back onto the main road and headed back to their motel room, all while maintaining one hand on Sam's pulse point. It was weak, but still there and for that much, Dean was grateful. Getting him into the room was a bit of a challenge, but once he had Sam down on the bed, years of training came into play. First things first, he had to figure out what he was dealing with and what he would do if Sam needed a hospital's care. While he wouldn't hesitate taking his little to the local ER if that's what his brother required, it would definitely lead to a trip to the local police station.
But, he was thinking to far ahead. It was time to go back to basics.
With a gentleness that few ever got to see, Dean removed his brother's jacket and grimaced at the crimson spot pooling on Sam's side. Upon closer inspection, he was relieved to see that it was just a deep cut. It would need stiches, but the bleeding was already starting to slow down. There were numerous small cuts and the beginnings of a nasty bruise on Sam's arm, but all in all it could've been a lot worse.
"D'n?" Muddy, unfocused eyes stared up at him.
"Hey, Sammy," Dean greeted with a small smile, relieved to see the kid awake. "How you feeling?"
"Head hurts." He whispered, wincing at the sound of a truck rumbling by.
"Well, that's what happens when you decide to cheat during a race." Sam's face showed no signs of comprehension and Dean sighed. "You got caught in a landslide, dude." A spark flashed in his little brother's eyes.
"The rain . . ." His voice trailed off, leaving Dean to interpret the rest. Looking back on it now, it had been stupid to go climb up a hill after three days of hard rain. Still, it was one of the hazards of their job. It wasn't like the vampire they had been hunting would've said, "Oh, I understand. I'll stop killing people for a few days so you can be safe from landslides."
"Yeah. That's what I figured too." He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. It had been close, but Sam was okay.
"Hurts." Sam whimpered and Dean shot him a sympathetic smile.
"I know, dude, I know," He mumbled as he pulled out the needle and thread. Placing them aside, he pulled out some pain pills. It wouldn't make the pain go away completely, but it would take the edge off and help Sam get some sleep. "Here, take these." He offered him the pills and a glass of water and his little brother obediently swallowed them.
With that, Dean steeled himself and watched Sam do the same.
"Just do it." Sam mumbled and Dean nodded, threading the needle.
Then, he began to stitch.
Sam drunk was pretty fun.
Sam on drugs? Freakin' hilarious. For the past 30 minutes, Dean had been watching his younger sibling prattle on about how yellow watermelons with stripes were the best and how he should be careful when dealing with kittens.
"They like to lie, D'n." His brother slurred and Dean suppressed a chuckle of laughter.
"Yeah, I bet they do, Sammy." Dean replied, like a good big brother. Occasionally, Sam's face flickered with pain, but it seemed like the pills had done their job and Dean was pleased to see that his little brother was in better shape than he had expected. It had been a close call, yeah, but everything was okay now.
And for tonight, Dean wouldn't have picked any other place to be.
But as soon as Sam was well enough, they were going to Vegas. Maybe they could make it to Reno by Christmas Eve?
"D'n?"
"Yeah, Sam?" His little brother smiled unabashedly at him, much like a toddler version of Sam had used to do.
"I love you." The remark stunned the older brother for a few seconds. Those three words hadn't been spoken for at least, five years. It had been implied in everything they did, but they never said it out loud. It was an unspoken rule. Apparently, drug-addled Sam was playing by a different rulebook. Besides, it wasn't like he would remember any of this in the morning anyways, right?
Dean grinned.
"Love you too, Sam."
Sam beamed.
And wouldn't you know it? Dean was starting to believe that they weren't as screwed as he thought them to be. Maybe, with Sam by his side, they could get through this—
No, they would definitely get through this.
No doubts about it.
Author's Note: And there you go! I hope you enjoyed! Please review/request if you have a second!