DISCLAIMER: Sadly, still own nothing. Supernatural belongs to Kripke who is graciously letting me play in his sandbox. Thanks, man!
SPOILER ALERT: Tag to Jus in Bello
A/N: This was going to be a one shot but now looks to be a two shot. Dean just looked so devastated at the end, and damn it, he'd been shot! The poor boy needed some patching up, especially after losing a virgin and having to deal with that bitch, Ruby. And yes, if he doesn't start calling her that again soon, I may have to kick his ass…. Have no fear, though, she is only in this fic for one sentence….
"So next time we go with my plan," Ruby spat out and spinning on her heel stomped out of the hotel room.
Dean had no witty or snarky comeback. He clutched his left arm in close to his stomach. His shoulder was throbbing; the ibuprofen he'd taken earlier really hadn't done much to help with the pain. And now he felt like he'd been run through with a red-hot sword. The screaming in his belly warred with the screaming he could hear in his own head. And yet, he couldn't make a sound. He looked at his brother. Sam looked at the floor. He knows this is my fault. Those people. More dead. Because of me. Because I'm a screw up. It's no wonder he doesn't listen to me anymore. Why should he. I just keep screwing everything up.
Sam looked after Ruby's retreating back. How could he trust her? Yet she always seemed to have the answers. Answers they would need to fight and win this war. To save Dean. Sam looked at his brother. The anguish Sam knew would be eating at Dean was clearly displayed on his face. Sam's eyebrows knit together as his own anguish over the deaths of people they had become close to sank in. He drew in a breath.
"Dean," he breathed out.
"No. Don't," Dean clipped out cutting him off and clenching his own jaw shut. He hugged his left arm in even more tightly against his stomach. Sam could see Dean's jaw working and his throat bobbed.
Dean dropped his eyes to the floor as he tried to regain control of himself. His stomach was threatening to come up his throat. He couldn't listen to anything Sam wanted to say. He couldn't stand the thought of Sam trying to make this better. But even more, he couldn't take it to hear Sam take Ruby's side again. To say I told you so. To say she's the only hope. To confirm that Dean was just a screw up.
Sweat was beading on Dean's forehead and running down his back, but he felt like he'd never be warm again and he shuddered slightly. He was losing the battle against his stomach and suddenly launched himself up off the bed and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut on the way by. He barely made it to the toilet before he lost everything in his stomach, which did surprisingly little to ease the pain.
"Dean? You ok?" Sam's quiet voice barely penetrated the door.
The bathroom was small, so Dean was able to lean his arms on the toilet and use his foot to keep the door shut when he heard Sam trying to push through. As soon as he was able to stop the retching, he leaned back and punched the lock on the door.
"Dean?" Sam's voice was startled as he heard the lock click over. "C'mon man. Maybe you should let me in. Are you ok? Dean?"
Dean couldn't answer. He didn't want to answer. Sam's voice gradually faded out. Dean could hear Nancy.
"What? It's a choice."
There were no choices. No matter what you chose the outcome was the same. They'd told her they were the good guys. But they'd gotten her killed anyway. He'd gotten her killed. Hardly a knight in shining armour.
Dean pushed himself against the cold porcelain of the tub behind him. He drew his knees up to his chest and let his forehead rest on his knees. He could feel blood oozing out of the wounds caused by the bullet. Sweat mixed with it to run down his body as he continued to shiver. And then his stomach rebelled again. He retched and dry heaved into the toilet.
"Dean! Open the damn door!" Sam was starting to get pissed. He pounded and still got no response from his pig-headed brother.
"Dean! Either open up or your paying the motel for the damage I'm gonna do when I knock the damn thing down!"
Silence swirled around Sam's words.
"Dean. Please." Sam's voice dropped to just make it through the door. Damn it. I'm an idiot, Sam thought. Lock pick. Some day you'll think to regret teaching me that Dean. And then, if you live long enough, floated unbidden through Sam's head as it did more and more often. Sam pressed his eyes together in an attempt to burn the unwanted thought into oblivion.
Sam wasn't sure what he'd expected on the other side of the door. His brother unconscious was his first thought. It was the only thing that would explain his not receiving any answer. Not a fuck off. Not a not now. Not an I'm fine.
But this was not what he had expected.
Dean sat with his back against the tub and his knees drawn to his chest. His arms were curled around his legs and his forehead was pressed into his knees. He was rocking gently backwards and forwards.
Sam slowly eased down in front of his brother, afraid to startle him. He slowly reached out a hand and laid it gently on Dean's knee beside his head.
"Dean? Talk to me, man," Sam's voice was soft and gentle. He used the tone he knew his brother couldn't resist.
He got no response. No flinch. No shrug. No indication at all that Dean even knew he was there.
"Dean?" Sam was starting to panic. Just a little bit. He gently shook his brother.
The reaction was the same: there was no reaction.
Sam gently placed a hand on either side of his brother's face and forced his head up until Dean had no choice but to look into Sam's eyes. At least, Sam thought there was no choice. Dean shut his eyes. He shut Sam out.
But Sam had seen. He'd only had a moment, but he'd seen Dean's anguish. Sam knew it wasn't just the anguish over the lives they had lost that day. Sam still marvelled over how Dean both went through the world with seemingly no attachments – other than Sam and Dad and Bobby – and yet Dean could become totally attached to and feel responsible for someone they were trying to help in the matter of a few hours.
Sam saw something else as well. Betrayal. Dean felt betrayed by Sam and Sam's actions. Sam wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he did know that he was helpless at the moment to make it better for Dean. He couldn't take his actions and reactions back.
Sam was suddenly aware of something else. Dean's head seemed unnaturally warm. He wasn't burning up, but he definitely had a fever.
"Dean? C'mon, man. Talk to me. How are you feeling? I think you might be fighting an infection. You'd better let me take a look at that shoulder again. Do you need some more pain meds? It's a bit early, but I think we could make an exception in your case. It'll help to bring down the fever too." Sam just kept talking as he tried to unbend his brother to take a look at his injury.
Sure enough when he had managed to get a look at the wound, it looked red and puffy and it had been bleeding again. Well really, why would his brother catch a break now? Karma just loved to make him her bitch. Sam sighed and reached for the first aid kit.
After thoroughly dousing the wound with hydrogen peroxide, which elicited no response from his brother, Sam applied a thick coating of antibiotic cream and reapplied a fresh bandage. Dean didn't so much as hiss in pain throughout the whole procedure. He'd completely withdrawn into himself.
Once he was finished, Sam managed to coax Dean to his feet and lead him back out to the bedroom. Dean curled up on the bed on his right side, shutting his eyes.
Sam went back to the bathroom and returned with a glass of water and the ibuprofen. He shook his brother's shoulder, but Dean refused to react. Sam sighed.
"Fine. I'll leave them here on the table. I'm going out to get us something to eat. I'll be back shortly."
When Sam returned, Dean hadn't moved. The glass of water and pills were right where he'd left them.
"Damn it, Dean!" Sam stormed. He'd had enough. He slammed the food down on the table by the window.
"Is that it? You're just giving up?"
No reaction.
Sam reached down to touch his brother. He was definitely hotter. Sam got the thermometer and shoved it none too gently in his brother's ear. 102. Shit.
Sam knew they didn't have any antibiotics. He couldn't take his brother to the hospital. Gun shot wounds had to be reported to the police. Granted there were no police actually left in this town, but Sam was pretty sure that they would find some kind of law enforcement to notify, and damn it, they'd just managed to get the law off their damn backs.
Sam needed help. It wasn't just that Dean was physically hurt. He was emotionally hurt too. Sam knew that he had contributed to Dean's being hurt and didn't know how to help him with that. Sam had tried to explain to Dean that he had to change to help Dean. It had been Dean who didn't want to know what Sam was doing. And the other things that Sam hadn't told Dean… well… he had good reasons for not telling his brother those other things. He hadn't wanted to hurt Dean.
Good job there, Sam thought to himself. Cutting Dean out and making him feel left out – hindsight was a bitch. Dean didn't do alone and Sam knew that, but Sam had shut his brother out. Kept out of the loop on purpose. For Dean's own good. At least, that's what Sam had told himself. And now…
Dean had clearly shut him out. Sam was afraid that Dean was attempting to shut everything out. Sam needed Bobby.
If there was one person who could get through to his brother, it was Bobby.
Sam stepped out of the motel room and dialled his cell phone.
"Ya?"
"Bobby?"
"SAM??? Damn it, boy! I just heard the news! I thought you boys were dead! Are you trying to give an old man a heart attack? Where's Dean? Is he ok? What…"
"Bobby! Dean's alive too, but I …we… need your help," Sam finally cut in. He couldn't help but smile at Bobby's uncharacteristic rapid fire questioning.
"Anything, Sam. You know that. What the hell has that idjit gone and done now?"
"Well, for starters, he got himself shot. It's not bad. At least, I didn't think it was bad. It was a through and through but it's gotten infected now and he's running a fever. The bullet must have dragged some material from his shirts through the wound..." Sam's voice trailed off.
"And what with just getting "killed" you hardly want to waltz into a hospital looking for antibiotics for an infected gun shot wound, right?" Bobby always could cut right to the heart of a matter.
"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "We don't have antibiotics to treat an infection and…." Sam was at a loss to describe the rest of Dean's state.
"Sounds like there's something you aren't telling me, Sam," Bobby probed gently.
"It's not just his shoulder. Ruby was here. It got really hairy. He's not talking. A lot of shit went down and now it's like he's just shut himself off…" Sam trailed off at a loss to explain it to Bobby when he couldn't quite get his own head around it.
"Not good," Bobby responded, "but it's happened before. You'd better come here. How quickly do you think you can get here?"
"We can get there in about 18 hours, but I don't think I'm up to it Bobby. I'll have to get some rest and head out in a few hours."
"Look, I'll gather up what I think we'll need, and I'll meet you half way. I can be on the road in half an hour."
"Thanks Bobby. I don't know what we'd do without you." The relief in Sam's voice came through loud and clear to Bobby.
"It ain't nothing." Bobby's voice was gruff. "Try to keep Dean calm and get him to drink as much as you can. I've got the map in front of me," Bobby did some quick calculations and suggested a couple of towns where they could meet up based on Sam getting a few hours of much needed sleep.
"Call me when you're heading out."
"Ok." Sam hung up and walked back in the room and between the two beds.
"Hey, Dean," Sam sat on the bed behind his brother. Dean hadn't moved. Sam could tell by his breathing that he wasn't asleep, though.
"I called Bobby. He's gonna meet us with some antibiotics for your shoulder. We'll head out in a few hours. Think you could eat something? Dean? Please?"
Sam reached out and touched his brother's arm lightly, mindful that that was the shoulder that he'd been shot in. Shot because he stood up to place himself between the FBI agent and his brother. Just as before, Sam got no reaction when he touched his brother. Sam's eyes welled up.
Sam stood up and went to the table. He forced himself to eat the food he'd bought. As he ate, he watched his brother's face. If his breathing hadn't given him away, Sam would have sworn he was asleep. His pale face occasionally showed a flicker of pain move across it but was otherwise completely impassive.
Sam only ate because he had to. He'd need his strength to get Dean to Bobby. After choking down as much as he could, Sam picked up the soup and sandwich he'd bought for his brother and brought them over to the table between their beds. Then he walked back around to face his brother. Dean's eyes were open.
"Dean?" Sam looked down at his brother. He was simply staring straight in front of himself. He did nothing to acknowledge his brother. After setting the food on the table, Sam crouched down in front of his brother, forcing him to look at him. But Dean had other ideas and simply shut his eyes.
"I'm leaving you some food here, Dean. Please try to eat something. I'm going to get a couple hours of sleep and then we'll head out to meet Bobby. He's concerned about you. He said that you should drink." Sam hoped that making it a request from Bobby might get through to his brother. If it did, there was no sign.
Sam sighed as he sank into his bed and let himself slip into blissful unconsciousness.
It was dark in the room when Sam woke up. He glanced at the clock and groaned. He'd slept for a little over five hours and didn't feel as if he'd slept at all.
Sam turned on the light and looked at his brother. It didn't look as if Dean had moved at all. The glass of water, soup, sandwich, and pills all sat untouched on the bedside table. At least he was truly sleeping. Sam noted that his cheeks were flushed and his eyebrows were knit together as if he was in pain or thinking.
Opting to leave his brother sleeping, Sam quickly gathered their things and packed the car. Finally, he was ready to head out to hook up with Bobby. Sam quietly approached his brother. Under normal circumstances, he would never risk his life by touching his sleeping brother.
"Dean?" Sam spoke before reaching a hand to gently shake his brother. He could still feel the heat radiating off of his brother's body. He'd purposely left out the first aid kit, and quickly grabbed the thermometer and inserted it into Dean's ear. 102.5. Not good, but all things considered, not that bad either. It could have climbed a lot higher. At least Dean was holding his own. And without the benefit of painkillers or even water.
Now he just had to get him into the car.
"Dean!" Sam shook his brother a lot harder. Sam almost sat down on the floor in surprise when he got a reaction out of his brother.
Dean moaned and his eyes fluttered open. He blinked owlishly at his surroundings. He turned his confused stare onto his brother. Sam watched recognition and remembrance flash across Dean's eyes. He saw anguish and guilt and sadness and self-loathing and doubt and betrayal all flicker across Dean's face in mere seconds before the wall slammed up and his face was a neutral mask again.
"C'mon, bro, we're getting out of here. We're gonna meet up with Bobby, okay?" Sam reached out to help his brother sit up.
Dean finally acknowledged Sam's existence by weakly batting his hands away.
Part of him wanted the contact with his brother, but part of him just couldn't do it anymore. He needed to regroup and shore up his walls and the only way he could do that was by retreating behind what was left of those walls. He wasn't even sure if he knew this brother in front of him. And then there was the pain. There was a weight on his chest that wasn't entirely guilt. His shoulder and head were throbbing in tandem and it made it hard to think. He was both hot and cold, and his stomach still ached.
Dean managed to push himself to his feet and staggered to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and did what he needed to. He briefly considered throwing up again but found that not having anything in his stomach made it easier to resist.
Sam was waiting as Dean stumbled back out of the bathroom. Dean's eyes were locked on the room's door. It seemed like it was a thousand miles away. Sam reached out a hand to help his brother, but Dean didn't even acknowledge his brother's presence. He didn't even glance Sam's way. Dean managed to bounce off of virtually every piece of furniture as he made it to the door. He leaned his head against the door for a moment to gather himself before opening it and looking for his baby.
Dean sighed when he spotted the Impala pulled up as close to the room as possible. He pushed off the door frame and took one step towards the Impala and that one step proved to be the limit of his strength and his legs buckled. Dean would have gone right to the ground if Sam hadn't come up behind him as soon as he opened the room door.
"Easy, Dude. I've gotcha," Sam breathed in his brother's ear, snaking an arm around his waist and halting Dean's descent to the pavement. He got his brother to the passenger side, opened the door and got him settled.
Dean didn't acknowledge his brother but accepted the help.
By the time Sam had slid in behind the wheel, Dean had curled up against the passenger door and window. Sam heard a noise. He couldn't believe it came from Dean, and it scared the shit out of him. The first noise Dean made was a whimper.
Sam peeled out of the parking lot like the demons were hot on their bumper. Dean never even tore him a new one for abusing his baby. And that scared Sam even more.
A/N: Just seemed like it needed a break there….
Please let me know what you think??? bites nails More?