Chapter 17
Dean jerked awake and sat up in the bed. It was bright. Too bright. What time was it? Then he remembered that Stella had offered to do the 4:00 AM check on Sam and he was going to take the six o'clock. But it was later than that. He grabbed the alarm clock. It said 10:15 AM. He rolled out of bed and grabbed the sweat pants that were crumpled on the floor. Throwing a flannel shirt on, he didn't bother to button it while he headed down the stairs.
"Morning sunshine." Stella smiled at him.
"You let me sleep…"
"You needed the rest. I can nap this afternoon." She was padding around the kitchen in pajama bottoms and a flannel shirt of her own, her hair pulled back in a messy pony tail to keep it out of her face.
"Where's Sam? How's he doing?"
"Ask him yourself. He's on the sofa. I think he dozed off again, but I need to change bandages so he needs to wake up and get his ass into the shower again."
"Okay. Let me call Bobby first so we can figure out how to get Sam some antibiotics. I don't want to wait any longer on that," said Dean. He rummaged through the pocket of his coat and found his cell. He pressed the speed dial for Bobby and sat down at the kitchen island. The phone rang two times, three times and Dean thought it was going to voice mail when he heard Bobby's gravelly voice on the other end of the call.
"Hey Bobby. How are you? We've been… good. Need you to do me a favor. Can you call a prescription for antibiotics for Sam? Got any connections that can do that? He got bit. Yes, bitten. By a rugaru…" Dean pulled the cell away from his ear. Stella couldn't hear exactly what Bobby was saying but based on the volume, he certainly was letting Dean have it with gusto.
Dean started to smile. "Settle down, Sparky…" he called to the phone.
This time, Stella heard Bobby's voice quite clearly: "DON'T YOU GET SMART WITH ME, BOY!" She gestured for Dean to give her the phone. She waited for Bobby to take a breath before she spoke.
"Bobby? It's Stella. Everyone's fine. We found a rugaru here in town. Sam and Dean got in a pinch, and Sam got a little roughed up, but he'll live. What? Me? I'm fine. I just bailed their sorry asses out…" She glanced at Dean when she said it. He rolled his eyes and walked away; Bobby was never going to let him hear the end of this. But before he got far, the end of Stella's phone conversation stopped him. He looked back over his shoulder.
"No, Bobby. You don't need to do that. Really. No. Bobby… Okay. Okay. You don't have to shout. Apparently someone had his Cheerios pissed in this morning…" She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. "Cranky pants hung up on me."
"What's going on?" Dean took the phone back from Stella.
"Bobby said he can get the 'script for Sam. It will be at the pharmacy within the hour. He's on his way here."
"What?" Dean raised his eyebrows.
"He said it is only a ten hour drive. You know what he's like." She shrugged. When Bobby got an idea in his head, it wasn't easy to dissuade him. Stubbornness was a trait that ran strong in most of the hunters she knew, herself included.
They both went and got Sam up and helped him into the bathroom. He sat on the stool and smiled at the two of them. Sam still looked tired but he didn't have that vacant, pain-filled look today, and Stella was relieved. She peeled the bandages away revealing the angry, torn flesh on his body. So far, everything looked okay but he was a long way from being healed.
"I'm going to have to scrub them again, Sam. Probably going to have to keep doing that for a few more days. Sorry, man."
"S'okay," he said. "You've got to do it."
"You want a drink? There's still some tequila," said Dean.
"No, let's try it without." Sam shuddered. His stomach had let him know all morning that it wasn't happy with the tequila from the night before. He hadn't been sick, but the threat had been there for several hours.
"Bobby's calling in some antibiotics for you," continued Dean.
"Seriously? How's he managing that?"
Dean shook his head. "I didn't ask. I'm not sure I want to know. Actually, while you're getting your spa treatment here, why don't I head out to the pharmacy? I can get the pills and the list of stuff Stella pulled together for you."
"Not yet," said Stella.
"Okay…" There was curiosity in Dean's voice.
Stella dropped the bloody bandages into the paper bag by the edge of the shower. "This needs to get burned. So does the bag upstairs that has my clothes in it. And then, when I'm done here, you need to change your brother."
That got the attention of both Winchesters. "Change him?" asked Dean.
"Sam's wearing the same skivvies he had on yesterday. Given the blood and the sweat, I think they're pretty nasty. And they're going to get nastier during this cleaning. I figured he's your little brother, you get the honor of helping to change his underwear, not me."
Sam waved an arm weakly. "No, I can do it myself, just get me a clean pair."
"You can't even stand up by yourself…" said Stella.
"I'll work it out…" Sam shook his head slowly. No way in hell was Dean changing his boxers. He'd go naked first. Dean was thinking pretty much the exact same thing.
"The two of you can sort it out after. Dean, would you at least bring him a fresh pair down when you get the other bag?"
Dean got the fire good and hot to incinerate anything else that might connect them to Russell Roy while Stella scrubbed Sam's wounds out. Sam gritted his teeth during the process but managed to get through without any alcohol. When Dean came back with a set of boxers for him, Sam was stubbornly making a valiant effort to pat himself dry with a towel. Stella was on her way out of the room.
"Have fun," she said.
When Sam saw Dean he pointed at his brother, warning him to stay where he was. "Just give them to me and then get out. I don't care if takes an hour, I can change my own shorts."
"Fine. Whatever. I'll be outside." Dean shut the door behind him and leaned on the wall in case Sam did need some help. It took him 15 minutes, but Sam managed all on his own. The effort exhausted him and he didn't object to Dean helping him back to the living room. With Sam safely ensconced on the sofa with some water and the TV remote, Dean turned his attention to Stella who was wiping up something that had spilled on the counter. She looked tired, but Dean was hardly surprised by that. She'd only had a few hours of sleep. He went into the kitchen and came up behind Stella, sliding his arms around her waist. Dean rested his chin on her shoulder.
"Hey beautiful."
She laughed softly. "I'm glad you think so. I'm not feeling very beautiful right now."
"You're always beautiful, but I think it is time for you to get some sleep. Why don't you go lie down for a little bit while I go on the pharmacy run? I won't be gone long and Sam will be fine."
Stella nodded. She was exhausted. "Okay."
Dean was gone for about two hours. He went to the pharmacy and the prescription was waiting for him, phoned in by a Doctor Singerly. He also stopped by the coffee shop and lingered over a cup of joe and a muffin, listening to the conversation and gossip around him. The weather had warmed by the time he came out, and Dean drove back to the house with the window down and the radio up.
"Sammy?" Dean shook his brother's foot. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty."
"What? Dean?" Sam looked around, confused, until he reoriented to where he was. He struggled to sit up, the pain warring with the bout of dizziness that swamped him. Even sitting up was an effort.
"Here." Dean handed him some pills and a bag of crackers. "Eat something before you take these. I'm guessing you don't want to puke."
"Oh, hell no." Sam took the pills in his hand and only swallowed them after downing a couple handfuls of crackers and some water. He glanced at the TV and his eyebrows furrowed. There had been some old repeat on when he fell asleep. Now it was Judge Somebody-or-Other. Dean left Sam to his mind-numbing daytime television selection (which Sam promptly changed to ESPN simply on principle), and went upstairs.
Stella was lying on the bed, sound asleep, when Dean came in. She must have showered. Her hair looked damp and she was wearing cotton sleep pants and a long-sleeve waffle top. Dean quietly took off his coat and his boots and sat down on the floor with his back against the wall. Stella's breathing stayed steady and deep; he didn't want to wake her so he just sat on the floor and watched her. Stella shifted in her sleep and sighed, a small smile crossing her face for a moment.
I wonder what she's dreaming about. Dean smiled.
Stella shifted again slightly and she pulled her hand up close to her face. Dean looked at her ring and thought back to that day on the deck. She deserves a normal life. The chance to have a husband and a family. But how can I give her normal when I'm… me… Sure as shit, I'm not normal. Despite his thoughts, Dean knew Stella didn't care about whether or not he was normal; she loved him exactly the way he was. Demons, angels, vampires, ghosts and all. No, Dean Winchester still wasn't ready to walk down the aisle, but maybe, just maybe there was an alternative. The idea made him smile. Now he had a plan.
Dean let Stella sleep until dinner. He sat down on the bed and ran his hand down Stella's hair. She turned and stretched, and Dean couldn't help but watch the fabric of her shirt as it moved and shifted over her. He gave his head a little shake and when he looked back, Stella's eyes were open and she was staring at him.
"Enjoying the view?" There was laughter in her voice.
"You're just too sexy, baby. You bring it out in me every time." He gave her a gentle pat on her bottom.
She inhaled. "Do I smell pizza?"
"You do. A pizza and beer buffet for dinner."
"You rock, Dean. I'm starving."
"Then come and get it." He stood up but before Dean could move away from the bed, Stella grabbed his jean pocket.
"Oh, I'll come and get it alright." Her laugh was low. "But not until a little later."
Dean licked his lips and smiled at that thought. At this rate the pizza was going to burn and set fire to the house. But Stella let go, rolled to the other side of the bed, and pulled on her favorite pair of wool socks that doubled as slippers. Dessert was going to have to wait until a little later.
Downstairs, Dean had put several beers into a bucket of ice and brought them into the living room; Stella brought plates and napkins. Dean went back and forth to the oven a couple times and brought three different pizzas in: a meat-lovers, pepper and onion, and just a plain cheese.
"I spent a little time hanging out in town," said Dean while they ate. "Word is definitely out about what happened at the Roy house."
Stella put her beer down. "What are they saying?"
"Right now they're talking about how Russell's place went up in flames and that he was drunk and died in the fire," replied Dean. "They're also talking about how Ricky Santiago's body was found there. Seventeen year old kid… that must have been the body Sam and I saw… But even money is saying that Russell killed him and then set fire to his house by accident while he was drinking."
"That's good. Hopefully they'll stay with that line of thinking. But if not, we were here together, right? And Sam's got a case of food poisoning." Stella looked at the two boys. It was important to have their stories straight, just in case. Sam and Dean both voiced their agreement through mouths full of pizza.
Bobby arrived around midnight.
Stella and Dean had helped Sam up to the bedroom a few hours earlier and were curled up on the sofa munching popcorn and watching an action movie. They could hear his old pick-up truck before they saw it. It sounded like it was going to need a new muffler soon. Stella gave him a hug when he came in; it was good to see Bobby again. She hadn't since her stay in the hospital earlier in the summer. They gave him an overview of what had happened with the rugaru, from Stella's first question to Sam getting pepper-sprayed to the Molotov cocktail that Stella had used to start burning the creature. Dean showed Bobby to the empty guest room and then both he and Stella went to bed.
The next day, Bobby spent a little time with all of them. It had only been a few days since the attack, and Sam would nod off during conversations but they knew that would change. His appetite was good and each time his dressings got changed, the wounds looked better. Stella finally excused herself, giving the three men time to catch up. This was a good chance for her to do a little work on the Camaro before they got on the road. By the time Bobby and Dean came outside, she had the car up on ramps and was getting ready to change the oil.
"My God, it doesn't get much hotter than that," sassed Dean. "A woman who can do her own car maintenance."
"Yea, whatever. Get over yourself, Winchester. Where are you guys headed?"
"We're going to run into town and get Bobby a new muffler. The one on the truck started giving up the ghost on the way here," said Dean. "Sam fell asleep, so he's on the sofa."
"Well, the two of you can probably grab a sandwich and a beer while you're there." Stella wiped her hands on a rag. Dean noticed she wasn't wearing her silver ring and then remembered that Stella always took it off when she worked on the car so it wouldn't get scratched or greasy.
Suddenly, Dean started to pat the pockets of his coat. "Damn. Left my wallet inside. I'll be right back, Bobby."
Before Bobby could object, Dean was already headed back to the house. He took the stairs two at a time and hustled up to the bedroom. He didn't need his wallet; he already had that. Stella's ring was sitting on top of the dresser. He scooped it up and looked at it. Then Dean closed his fist around the ring, dropped it in his pocket, and went back outside.
Stella was under the Camaro, tinkering, when they left.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hope you have enjoyed the latest installment. As always, thank you for taking the time to read my Supernatural fic. Readership and reviews are always welcome and appreciated.