Day 03: candy cane, hospital room; Sam, Dean & Rufus

Season: Season 3

Spoiler: 'All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2' / Season 3

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A/N: One of the rare occasions on which the story just came together when I wrote things down. I love it when that happens, don't you?

Also, this only works when we stretch time between the last two episodes of season 3... For the sake of the story, let's just pretend.

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Sam started moving and opened his eyes, blinking against the light. Dean, who'd been sleeping in a chair pulled up next to the bed, woke up with a start. He saw Sam was up and tension seeped out of his shoulders.

"Hey there, kiddo – take it easy, okay?"

"Dean?"

"Yeah, right here."

Sam lay back and groaned: "What happened? Where'd everyone go?"

Dean frowned, then shrugged: "If by 'everyone' you mean the vamp – I got rid off him. Not that you were any help, man. How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts."

"I can imagine that", Dean chuckled, remembering how Sam tried wrestling the vampire, who was even taller than Sam and fiercely fought for his life. Not that that helped him in the end. But before Dean could sever head from body, the vamp threw Sam against the wall with an ugly sound, leaving Sam limp and unconscious.

"Where are we?"

"In a hospital, two towns over. Your head was bleeding real good, and I didn't want to ruin your pretty looks by stitching it up myself."

He tried to keep his voice light, though really he'd been beside himself with worry. Sam's wound didn't stop bleeding no matter what he tried, and when his brother wouldn't wake up either, he decided it was time to get professional help.

The memory of Sam lying on a dirty mattress, just an empty shell with nothing in it any more was still too fresh in his mind.

No way he'd risk having sold his soul for nothing by letting Sam die on his watch. Again.

"So", Sam said, apparently ignoring Dean having a dig at him, "where's Rufus?"

Dean blinked: "Rufus? Rufus Turner? That Johnnie Walker Blue friend of Bobby's?"

"Yeah. He said he'd be back in just a moment..."

"Sam, you haven't even met the guy, besides, I don't think he gets out much. What are you talking about?"

Dean worriedly searched Sam's face for some kind of clue. Something was wrong.

"He said he'd bring me a candy cane!"

Something was very wrong.

While Dean contemplated searching the room for hex bags or signs of sulphur, worrying that probably this time Sam bashed his head too hard to heal, his brother frowned, then asked in a small voice: "Has Bobby ever built a gingerbread house with us?"

"What? No. God no."

"Dammit! Then there's no Christmas tree either, is there?"

"Have you looked outside lately? It's June, and 86 degrees out there!"

Sam groaned: "Then it really was a dream. I wasn't sure, it felt so real."

Dean's shoulders slackened in realization – so no foul play in motion.

Sam ran a hand over his face, then carefully probed the bandage around his head: "Wait, what did you say about my pretty face just now?"

Dean grinned: "Let's get you out of here, huh?"

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Back in the Impala, Dean swore to himself that next time he saw a candy cane, he'd get it for Sam. Hell, he'd buy a whole store worth of candy canes if that was going to make his brother happy.

He could only hope that he came across candy canes before his time ran out.

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The End