First things first - THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who has read and reviewed, once again. I know I always say this, but I really do appreciate each and every one of you SO much. And you all helped me to reach 100 reviews - and more - (and by the way, I definitely teared up with happiness) and I can't thank you enough. As I said before, to reach 100 reviews was only a distant dream when I started writing fan fiction, so to actually reach it was unbelievable. And I have all of you to thank for that. So THANK YOU. :) Special thanks to SupernaturalGeek - who I dearly miss seeing around the fandom - who emailed me a special note of congratulations for reaching 100 reviews, and Emerald-Water (of course!:)) for her continuing support throughout this story. I adore both of you, your support means so much. :)
Alrighty. Here's the deal with this one. It's got a bit of a couple of things. LOL. First, there's some shocky!Dean for Shivased. Second, there's quite a bit of breaking something very badly, for ILOVESUPERNATURAL. Thank you both for your ideas, I really hope these live up to your expectations! :)
I got this particular evil plan when I watched The Descent a week ago (btw, amazing horror movie) and immediately thought "Yup... I'm so doing that to Dean." I KNOW. I need to be slapped. Go ahead. *slaps self* I have also decided that chapter 10 of this story will be the last. Don't worry, I always have new evil plans on how to whump Dean, but I'm just going to be posting them as stand-alone stories after 10. I don't want "OBU" to have an endless amount of chapters, and I thought 10 was a good place to stop. :P So if I did not get to your idea in this story, I will likely write it as a separate story.
For the first time, I have to warn on gross-out factor here. Just in case.
Disclaimer: I do not own. Sadly.
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They're at some off-road, broken-down, scary looking house. Reminds Sam of the Benders, three years ago. Not a good memory.
They're investigating disappearances – twenty of them, all disappeared around the same area. They'd looked at a map, talked to some people, found out the only person who lived around here is "George the Giant", a recluse who people have only seen through the trees and heard stories about. Most of them aren't even sure he's real.
Now that he's standing in front of them, Sam understands why he's got that particular nickname. The man's got to be about nine feet tall.
"Wow, you really are one big giant bundle of fun, aren't you?" Dean smirks, but his eyes are wide with surprise.
"Shut up Dean!" Sam glares at his brother, but Dean isn't looking. His eyes are trained on the gigantic man towering in front of them, glowering from under thick eyebrows.
He would find this dangerous even if it wasn't for the twelve-foot-deep hole behind them, but yeah, that kind of makes it worse. And the fact that they're backed up against it, nowhere to go… yeah. George the Giant probably keeps his victims in here.
They were just taking a look around the place, after finding that there was no one home. Guess we were wrong, Sam thinks.
"We know what you are," Dean goes on anyway. He's got that dangerous tone, the one that means he's not taking kindly to being threatened. But Sam's his brother, and he can also hear that tiny bit of uncertainty in his voice.
"You sure about that, pretty boy?" The huge man leans closer, towering over both of them, which is not a feeling Sam's used to. His arms are about as wide as Dean's whole body, and his fists are the size of Sam's head. Which is pretty unnatural.
Dean smirks and stands his ground. "Yeah we're sure."
"Dean. Look. We're just gonna go," Sam says quickly, grabbing his brother's arm. "We're sorry to bother you."
"Sorry to bother me?" the man laughs, a deep rumbling laugh. Sam isn't sure, but he thinks the ground might have trembled. "I don't like it when people trespass on my property. And you know, I'd let you go, but somehow I think you're gonna come back. And bring more of your kind."
"What's our kind?" Dean asks, raising his eyebrows.
"Hunters." The word is almost a growl.
The boys freeze in shock.
"Don't look so surprised. You think I've never run into any of your type before? Boy, you have no clue how old I am, do you? I'm willing to bet you boys saw those bones in my house, and my dinner for tonight in the fridge. And you know, I just can't let you leave now."
Sam has a split second to think Well this didn't work out like we'd planned before he's forced to dive aside to avoid George's gargantuan arms. He sees that Dean dove right between George's legs, and is just getting to his feet when he's hit from behind. Whatever hit him is so heavy, he thinks it must've been a log.
He rolls over, rubbing his shoulder, and sees George standing behind him, arm raised. Nope. That was his fist. Right.
Sam scrambles up again, hoping against hope he can get out of the way before he's caught, but a second later a huge hand closes on his ankle, and he knows it's too late. No matter how he kicks and struggles, this guy is stronger than any human they've ever fought. But then, he's not human.
Sam can now see that George has got Dean by the neck, and he's slowly dragging them both back towards… the hole. Dammit! Sam gives his leg one more fruitless yank, but he knows it's pointless. This is gonna hurt.
Dean is still struggling like a trooper, kicking and hitting every part of the man he can reach, but it's like this guy can't feel a thing. He doesn't even flinch.
"You first pretty boy," he growls, and a second later Sam hears a thump and a sharp yelp, more like an injured animal than Dean. Oh damn. Then Sam's falling too, and he lands on top of his brother a little. Dean yelps again, and Sam knows something is really wrong.
He rolls over quickly, glances back up. George is standing, looking down at them, grinning. "Bye bye," he says, waving. "I'll see you for dinner… probably tomorrow night." And then he's gone.
Sam huffs and looks over at Dean – his brother kneels nearby, clutching his arm, eyes wide and horrified.
Sam's heart skips a beat. "Dean? Dean, what's the matter?" Dean almost never looks like that, and when he does, it's definitely not good. He reaches for his brother, dreading what he's going to see.
Dean whimpers, breath hitching, not taking his eyes off his arm. In the light that's shining in from the top of the hole, Sam can see something dark and wet spreading over Dean's jacket at the wrist.
"Let me see." Sam reaches for Dean's arm, gentle, but his brother still yelps, jerking away. "Easy man. I've got you." Dean's trembles, presses against Sam's side, breath fast and jerky.
Sam lets Dean's forearm rest in his hand and peels back his sleeve, as carefully and slowly as he can. Dean whimpers again, but doesn't move. "Easy, easy," Sam chants softly as he gets a look at the wound.
There's something hard and white sticking out of Dean's wrist. Bone.
Oh god.
Bile rises in his throat. He gags and turns away, squeezing his eyes shut, wishing this was just some horrible nightmare. Oh god oh god oh god. He hears Dean breathing faster next to him, and takes a deep breath. Come on Sam. He needs you right now. Pull yourself together. He swallows hard and turns back, looks at his brother. Dean's white as a sheet, staring at his wrist with huge eyes.
"Hey – hey man, look at me, okay?" Sam uses his other hand to turn Dean's head toward him. "Look at me. Don't look at that. It's okay. I'm gonna fix this, okay?"
Dean nods, green eyes wide with fear and shock, his breath shuddering in and out. His freckles stand out sharply against his white skin, and he looks about ten years younger.
"Okay." Sam holds his eyes for a second longer, then looks back at his brother's wrist.
The bone is broken cleanly, there's a lot of blood, and he has to fight again to keep himself from being sick. That stark white bone looks so wrong protruding from his brother's wrist. Sam! Come on. You've fixed worse than this before. It's just an open fracture. You know how to fix this!
He wracks his memory for everything he knows about open fractures – he's pretty sure it happened to his dad before, he just can't remember when. Dad did say something, he's sure of it. A splint. I need a splint, I've got to keep it from tearing anything else. And that bone needs to go back in.
He hesitates, looks around the hole. There's nothing to use for a splint, of course. Dean's breathing is getting shallower, his eyes bigger than Sam has ever seen them. There's no colour in his face anymore, and he's shaking so hard his teeth are chattering. Shock.
Sam's starting to feel overwhelmed. "Okay Dean. I need you to calm down okay? I have to get that bone back inside, and wrap up your arm okay? And then you're gonna have to keep it really still." He takes off his jacket, puts it over Dean's shoulders, and turns back to the arm. Best to just get this done, and then deal with Dean's shock after.
He looks at his brother, heart pounding. "Dean, this is gonna hurt man. Are you ready?" Dean nods stiffly, but he's starting to make a funny sound now, a sort of keening, like a wounded animal. It raises the hair on the back of Sam's neck.
Just do it Sam. He grits his teeth and takes Dean's arm, moves it slightly. His brother growls in pain, starts to move. In one quick motion, Sam pushes Dean down and leans across his chest, effectively holding him down. He hates causing Dean pain, but if he doesn't get this done, infection or worse could happen. "I'm sorry Dean. Hold still okay? Just let me do this." He slowly manipulates Dean's arm straight, and with his other hand pushes the bone back into place.
Blood makes Dean's arm slippery, and Sam almost loses his grip. His brother isn't even growling anymore, he's just whimpering. Constantly.
Sam reaches for his jacket off the ground where it fell off Dean's shoulders, and wraps it around his brother's arm tightly. There's nothing to make a splint out of, so Dean's just going to have to be really still until they get help.
Finished, he sits up and looks at his brother. Dean's face is wet with tears, his eyes closed, jaw tight. Sam pats his chest, turns, and vomits.
"S'mmy?"
"Yeah Dean." He wipes his mouth, sits up. Holy crap. Never again. Never. Again. Dean doesn't answer, so he turns toward him. Dean's watching him with glassy eyes, still breathing short and fast. "Think – think 'm gonna be sick."
"That makes two of us bro." Sam lifts his brother, turns him over, holds him up while he gets sick.
After, he shuffles back against the wall and pulls Dean with him, settling him against his chest. Dean's still whimpering, very quietly. It's almost as if he can't stop. Sam gently dries off Dean's face, hugs him, ruffles his hair. "It's okay Dean. It's okay. I'm gonna call Bobby, we're gonna get out of here, okay?"
Dean nods into his chest, still shaking.
Sam takes a deep breath, swallows hard. His stomach is all twisted up, and he still feels vaguely nauseous.
"S'm?"
"Yeah bro?"
"How – how d'd th-that happen?" Dean's teeth are chattering still.
"What happen?"
"Wr-wrist."
Sam swallows. "I dunno. I guess it must have been how you landed on your hands. Too much pressure I guess." Open fractures are things he's heard about, seen pictures of, but never had happen. Except maybe that time with Dad. But he doesn't really remember that anyway.
"H-how's that gonna h-heal?"
"I don't know bro. I guess it's like anything else. It just does." He digs his phone out of his pocket, flips it open, smearing the screen with red. He hits Bobby's number and waits.
"Yeah?" Bobby's gruff voice makes Sam weak with relief.
"Hey Bobby – we need your help."
"What kind of trouble you boys in now?" Bobby asks, but Sam can already hear him grabbing his keys. He smiles.
"We're in a hole. Literally. Remember those disappearances we were telling you about?"
"I remember."
"Yeah well… we found who's been doing it. Dean and I saw the house. There's human bones and bodyparts everywhere. It's a giant, Bobby."
"A giant?"
"Yeah, you know, like David and Goliath type giant. Guy's huge. And fast. He threw us down here. Listen, be careful, okay? He hasn't looked in at us since, but he's probably still around."
"Damn, boy. I haven't seen a giant since… I don't even know when. Where's your dang-fool brother?"
"He's here Bobby, but he's hurt. Open fracture at his wrist. We need you to get here fast."
"I'm on my way." Bobby hangs up.
Sam pockets his phone and looks down at his brother. Dean's still shaking, his face buried in Sam's jacket, good hand holding onto the collar.
"It's okay Dean. I know it hurts, but Bobby's coming, okay? You'll be fine. Just one more scar for the ladies, right?"
Dean huffs a little, but stays silent.
Sam leans his head back on the dirt wall, takes a deep breath. What a day.
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It seems forever until Bobby gets there, but when he's finally at the top of the hole Sam's drifting off. Dean's already asleep, completely worn out.
"Sam?"
"Bobby!" Sam snaps awake, looks up. The sky's darker, but he can still see Bobby's familiar bearded face. "Thank God. Where's the giant?"
"I already took care of him, idjit. I'm lowering some rope, okay?"
"Dean. Hey man, wake up." Sam runs his hand – stiff with dried blood – over Dean's hair, rests it on his neck for a second, then pats his cheek. "Come on dude."
"Mmm?" Dean's eyes open, and he raises his head.
"Bobby's here man. We're gonna get out of here."
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They're in the car, on the way to the hospital. Sam's in the back with Dean, one arm around his shoulders even though Dean's already starting to regain his equilibrium and says he's fine.
"I've broken bones before, Sam," he says quietly, head resting on Sam's shoulder. He's clearly exhausted.
"Not like that you haven't."
"All the same."
"Sure man. Whatever." Sam smiles, looks up at Bobby, who's watching them in the rearview mirror. "Hey Bobby, how'd you 'take care' of that giant, anyway?"
Bobby shrugs. "You know. The usual slingshot and pebble."
Sam grins. "Right."
"Hospital's still another ten miles away," Bobby says over his shoulder. "You should get some sleep."
"Alright. Hey Bobby, thanks again. We owe you."
"Boy, you two owe me so much, I can't even remember anymore," Bobby says dryly, but Sam can tell he's smiling.
He tightens his grip on Dean, leans his head on top of his brother's, and closes his eyes.
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Ouch! Poor Dean! Who wants to hug him and take care of him until he feels better? *raises hand*
Please let me know what you thought. :)
~Deanandhisimpala
