And the Ground Shook (12/22)
Apr. 12th, 2007 10:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sams1raCharacters: Hurt!Dean, John, Sam.
Comments: Are loved and coveted.
And the Ground Shook
The awesome pic was made by the lovely CatBeist. Thanks hon!
Chapter Twelve – Epicenter
Sam woke Dean up a few hours later, giving him his pills and even managing to coax him into eating some toast, which seemed to be a great start - since once the food was down, Dean's stomach seemed to have woken up and reminded him that it's been quite a while since it had had any food in it.
Dean ate two more sandwiches before John sent Sam to do his homework, telling him to stop bothering the older brother. Sam, of course, refused. John was about to tear him a new one, but then saw the pleading look on his older's face, and allowed Sam to stay, at least for a while, making the younger promise to leave soon after and let the older sleep.
John knew he'd made the right choice when he heard laughter coming out of the boys' room.
Sam wiped a tear from his eye, still laughing hard. "Seriously, dude, we totally should've been there." He finished. Dean laughed.
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." He said, "Tell you what, next time Dad's on a hunt, you and I, we'll go there, do it the right way. What do you say?" Sam raised a brow.
"Tequila shots and all?" he asked. Dean shrugged, raising a brow.
"I'll even take you to this place I know. Man, I once met this chick there that gave me the best…" but Sam cut him off, making a face.
"Ewww! Over-sharing!" he said, making Dean laugh again, and then hiss.
"I was gonna say fake ID, you moron." Dean grimaced. "Man, Sammy, you gotta stop making me laugh. It hurts." He said with a grin, but that was enough to sober the younger brother up.
"Oh, Dean, man, I'm sorry. You okay?" he asked worriedly, quickly coming over to Dean's bed. Dean raised a brow, looking intently at his brother. "What?" Sam asked. Dean kept staring. "What is it?" Sam asked, getting a little nervous.
"Dude, I've seen pregnant chicks that didn’t go through half as many mood swings as you do. You're a total girl, Samantha." Dean smirked.
"Shut up, jerk." Sam said, punching Dean's shoulder lightly.
"Okay, fine. But just remember, I can seal the deal in two weeks tops. How long have you been trying to get to third base?" Dean smirked, and then frowned, his eyes losing focus.
"Dean?" Dean closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. "Dean?" Sam repeated.
"'M alright, Sammy. Just…" he took another deep breath, wetting his lips.
"You want to drink some more?" Sam suggested. Dean nodded lightly and Sam helped him drink. Dean rubbed his brow with the back of his hand. It happened too damn fast. All of a sudden, like a snap of the fingers, all his energy was gone. "Dean?"
"I think we need to take a break now, Sammy. You gotta do your homework eventually or Linda will have no use for you, right?" Dean asked tiredly, and even managed a smile.
"Should I get Dad?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head. He was asleep before Sam even reached the door to their room.
Much later that night, John had come to a decision. There was no time to sit around and wait for Dean to make the right choice. John was just glad Sam had fallen asleep in front of the TV while doing his homework. It made things easier.
John entered the boys' room, turning the light on in the bathroom to spare Dean the glare of the harsh light in the room. This wasn’t going to be easy, but it had to be done. John saw no other way. He brought over a sandwich and a glass of milk before waking Dean up. Dean woke up surprisingly fast, devouring the food. At least he's getting some of his strength back, John thought, and offered to make Dean another sandwich. Dean nodded, huddling back under the covers.
John returned with a couple of sandwiches and some water. Dean gave him a funny look as he poked at the sandwiches.
"What?" John asked.
"What's with the lattice and tomato and stuff?" he asked, and then frowned. "Are those sprouts?"
"Just shut up and eat it. It's healthy." John snapped. Dean poked at the sandwich some more.
"You sure it's not the vegetables making me sick? I think my immune system will go into shock if I…"
"Dean!" sighing dramatically, Dean bit into one of the sandwiches, practically inhaling it. "Son, we need to talk." John said as he watched Dean eat, wondering if his son even took the time to chew his food. Dean raised a brow, pushing himself farther up in the bed. John quickly rearranged the pillows to help him sit more easily.
"Talk about what?" Dean asked around a mouthful of food, then made a face and quickly reached for the water glass, gulping it down.
"I want you to tell me where that witch is." John said assertively. Dean chocked on his sandwich and started coughing. John just handed him the water, looking coolly at him, waiting for his answer.
"What?" Dean gasped, putting his plate away. "No." he shook his head. "There's another way. There has to be, Dad, you just need to find it." He said, a hint of panic in his voice. John stared at him for a long moment, and then sighed.
"There is no other way." He said. "I'm going to find that bitch and I'm going to make her reverse this curse. I will make her remove the Leech." John said coolly. Dean shook his head.
"Dad, no." he said, "You can't go. I never saw them coming. I still don’t remember how they got the drop on me. Dad, you can't go. Promise me you won't!"
"Dean." John ran a hand down his face. "You have two choices. You do what she told you, or you let me take care of it. That's it. Two choices. Now what will it be?" he said sternly. Dean looked at him with wide hazel eyes, looked at him like a little boy looking at his Daddy to tell him there is no monster hiding under the bed. John remained firm, unyielding. And then something in Dean's eyes changed. He had found a third option. There was acceptance in his eyes now, determination. "No." John said quickly, "That's not an option." He snapped.
"The best one I can think of." Dean said evenly.
"Well, you're not exactly in the right state of mind to be making any decisions." John snapped. "You think vegetables are a health risk, I think I'm the one that's gonna make the decisions around here, and I say you tell me where that witch is!" John demanded. "You hear me, boy?" Dean stared at the older hunter stubbornly, saying nothing. "I am not going to lose you! You tell me where I find that witch, and you tell me now! That's an order!" John hissed, loud enough to make his point, but not loud enough to wake his youngest. Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine." John said. Two can play that game. "Then you tell Sammy." he said. Dean's eyes widened.
"What?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"You tell your brother why you're going to die. You tell your brother, who worships you, why his big brother isn’t fighting for his life!" John demanded angrily.
"Dad!" Dean breathed, appalled.
"No! You don’t get a free pass on this one! You want to give up? Fine! You tell your brother that! You tell him why you wouldn’t let me help! You answer all his questions!" the older hunter pushed. Dean shook his head pleadingly.
"Dad, stop it!" he implored
"No." John shook his head. "That's what you want, that's the decision you made? Be a man and face the consequences!" Dean shook his head more vigorously.
"But I am fighting it! I am, Dad! I just… It's hard, but if I could just hold on long enough, maybe I could…"
"What? Huh? Maybe you could what, Dean?" John demanded. "Last one more day? Suffer such pain it will make you beg for someone to put a bullet through your head to make it stop? That what you had in mind?" John snapped. There was no time for coddling. Not now. Dean had to face reality. He had to find out where that witch was before it was too late, and if breaking Dean was the way to do it, then fine. He'll pick up the pieces later. As long as he can make sure there will be a later.
Dean's heart was racing, his stomach convoluting, his breathing became quick, shallow. He was shaking, his eyes darting around, his mind trying to find a way, a loophole, something that could help.
"I'll go." He said weakly.
"What?" John leaned in closer, not sure he's heard right.
"I'll go." Dean repeated, "I'll go talk to that witch, try to make her change her mind, try to… I don’t know. Something." Dean said quickly. John shook his head, rolling his eyes.
"Dean, you can barely make it from the car to the house." He reminded him. Dean stared him right in the eye, squaring his jaw.
"I can make it." He insisted. John shook his head, sighing, and ran a hand through his hair.
"You need to tell me where I find that woman, Dean. And you need to do it now." He said firmly. Dean shook his head stubbornly, avoiding his father's look. "Fine." John said after a long moment of tense silence, getting to his feet. "Don’t tell me." Dean wrinkled his brow, looking questioningly at his father. John shrugged. "I know where you were supposed to be, I know where they found you, and I know where you left your car and what motel you were staying at. I've gone on hunts with less information than this." John said simply, and Dean's eyes widened again.
"Dad, no!"
"Just gonna take me longer," John ignored him. "But I figure, I'll get to the house, go through it, probably pick up the trail from there." He continued.
"No. Dad, you can't! Promise me you won't!"
"Then tell me where I need to go, save me the time." John said, looking intently at Dean, who was squirming in bed. Dean looked up at him.
"Dad, please, don’t do that." He said, "Somebody has to stay with Sammy. Someone has to take care of him, keep him safe…" Dean pleaded.
"Okay then," John gave a slight nod. "I'll leave some money on the table. And don’t think that just because I'm not here, you can go ahead and eat all the junk food you want." John said casually, heading for the door.
"Dad!" the desperate tone in his son's voice made him stop. He turned, looking at Dean, who was looking worse by the minute. "What if it doesn’t work, Dad?" Dean pressed, "What if it doesn’t work, and you go out there, and she does the same thing to you? Who'll look after Sammy?" John hesitated for a moment. Dean was getting too worked-up over this, John doubted it was a good thing. He sighed again.
"Just tell me what I need to know, Dean. The more I know, the better prepared I am." He said calmly, and Dean shook his head again. He was looking rather shaky now, and John started questioning himself, thinking maybe he shouldn’t push so hard. But then again, Dean's time was limited, who knows how much time he had left. "If I know where she is, I can watch the place, study it, figure out how many people are involved in this, figure out the best way to do this." John said, trying to appeal to his son's rationality. Dean seemed like a mouse trapped between an angry cat and an Acme anvil. The older hunter sat by his son's side. "I'd still go." He said softly, and Dean looked at him with those big, expressive hazel eyes. "Even if you won't tell me, I'd still go."
"You could get hurt, too." Dean whispered desperately.
"Doesn’t matter." John said simply. "You're my son, I'm not giving you up without a fight."
"But I don’t want you to go, I don’t want you to fight. It's my battle!" Dean insisted, blinking tears away from his eyes.
"Not up to you." John said. "You can tell me, or not, but that's all that's up to you, Dean."
"You can get someone else to do it. You can call Rick or Joshua, or that creepy guy from Denver." Dean's face lit up suddenly and he looked up at his father. "If I tell you where she is, if I tell you, will you promise to send someone else? Promise you'll stay?"
"Just tell me, Dean!"
"You have to promise me!" John looked intently at Dean. It wasn’t a promise he could keep. He didn’t want to make it if he didn’t have to.
"I don’t trust them, Dean. I don’t trust them to be persuasive enough. They don’t care about what's at stake as much as I do." Dean shook his head again, the light disappearing from his eyes, replaced by desperation again.
"Then I won't tell you! I won't! You can't make…"
It was only John's quick reflexes that allowed him to grab the trash can and move out of the way before Dean started throwing up. John just felt frustrated at first. But then Dean kept heaving, throwing up everything he'd eaten and shaking so badly he couldn’t hold the trash can on his own. John quickly grabbed it, sitting by Dean's side, grabbing his shoulder to provide something for his son to lean on.
John's worry increased when Dean had nothing else to throw up, yet he kept dry heaving.
Sam woke up to the sound of someone being sick. He blinked a few times to chase the sleep from his eyes, and got up from the couch, promptly getting himself tangled in the comforter his father had thrown on him and falling to the floor in a heap and an 'oomph'. The first thought that crossed his mind (once he got over the 'huh?' and the 'what the..?' and untangling himself from the comforter) was 'Dean'.
He pushed the door to his room open, glad for the soft light coming from the bathroom, and was about to get in the room when his father turned to him.
"Get back to the living room, Sammy, I've got it." Sam's mind was still a little slow from sleep, so he was sure he didn’t understand his father correctly.
"How's Dean? Is he okay?" Sam asked, walking farther into the room.
"Sam, get out, go back to sleep!" Sam blinked, scratching his head. It was a little confusing. His father wanted him out of the room, but he told him to go to sleep, and his bed was right here. "Sam, now!" his father's tone left no room to argue, and Sam stumbled back to the couch.
Dean was feeling sick. He should go help Dean. But Dad was there with him, and Dad wanted Sam to go away. Why would Dad want him to go away? If Dad wanted him to go to sleep, why didn’t he just tell him to get in bed? Why send him to the living room?
The only reason Sam could think of was Dad was hurting Dean again. He went back to his room, but his father just got up and nearly slammed the door in his face, ordering him back to the couch. Sam just stood there, staring at the closed door for a minute, before going back to the couch. And fuming.
The last bout of dry heaves finally ended and Dean sagged against his father, too exhausted to keep himself up. John grimaced, noticing his son was still holding a hand firmly to his stomach. It was a painful reminder that the Leech wasn’t the only thing wrong with his boy.
"You done now?" the older hunter asked. Dean closed his eyes, too tired to answer. John gently helped him to lie back down, and then got up and got rid of the trash can. The smell alone was enough to make him sick. He filled a glass with water and returned to his son, helping Dean up and holding the glass to his lips. Dean took a small sip, swishing it in his mouth, and then spit it out to get rid of the foul taste in his mouth. John raised a brow, but said nothing. He replaced the water, and this time got Dean to swallow a few sips before he collapsed back into the pillows.
John put two fingers to his son's throat, checking for pulse, and then frowned. Dean's heart was racing, he was pale and clammy, and had just puked everything he had eaten in the past two days. Dean was completely exhausted physically, and John couldn’t ignore that anymore.
"I think we should get you to a hospital." He said seriously.
"No." Dean breathed, lying on his side and pulling his knees up. John's frown deepened.
"Your stomach hurts?" he asked. It took Dean a while to answer, and when he did, his voice sounded weak and gravelly.
"Still queasy. But I think the next thing I'll throw up will be my kidney. Or whatever. Nothing left in my stomach." John ran a hand through Dean's sweat-soaked hair.
"I know, kiddo." And then after a beat, he added; "You think you can drink some more?" Dean hesitated, but finally gave a cautious nod and drank some more.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Don’t want to die in a hospital." Dean said faintly, and John could hardly hold his tears at bay. He pursed his lips, unable to look at his aching child, forcing himself to stay in control.
"Dean, I need to know where…" but he couldn’t say it. He just couldn’t. Unfortunately, that was already too much. Dean's eyes snapped open and he gasped.
"Dad, no." his voice broke on the second word.
"I can fix this." John insisted, more to himself than for his son's benefit. The younger man's hand fisted in his father's shirt.
"Promise me you won't go!" Dean breathed, looking like a puppy that got run over by an eighteen-wheeler and then kicked off a cliff, and John just couldn’t stand to see him like that. He would do or say anything not to see his son like this. And so he did.
"Alright." He said, sitting with his back against the headboard and pulling his exhausted son to him. "Alright, I'll stay." He repeated, "I'll send someone else." And Dean believed him. John could tell by the way Dean let his body slump against him; by the way he let his head rest against his chest. John cleared his throat. "But, Dean," and Dean raised his head to look at his old man questioningly, fearfully. "I still need to know what to tell the guys." John said, "You know, it's gonna take 'em a while to get here, I don’t want them wasting anymore time looking for that witch." John finished, hoping his son was too out of it to notice the tremor in his voice.
"But you'll stay?" Dean pressed.
"I promise." John repeated, swallowing.
"You know, she might not even be there anymore." Dean said, resting his head against his father's shoulder.
"I know, sport. But that makes it even more important. The guys can't afford to lose her. Even if she's not there, they have to know where to start hunting." John said. Dean considered it.
"And you won't go? You'll stay here with Sammy?"
"I already told you I will, didn’t I?" John asked. It was breaking his heart, having to lie to his son like that, having to make yet another promise he knew he wasn’t going to keep. But it would hurt a hell of a lot more to lose his son then to lose his son's trust. He's broken promises to his boys before. Many of them. He had already lost Sam's trust, but Dean… Dean still believed in him. He always believed. And he will again, John knew.
"Okay." Dean said in a small, husky voice. And then he told his father everything the eldest Winchester wanted to know.
John was rather surprised to find Sam awake. Realizing the teen was furious – well, that was not so surprising.
"How's Dean?" Sam demanded, his lips in a tight line, his eyes accusing.
"Sleeping." John said, sitting on the couch next to his youngest. "Your brother isn’t doing so well, kiddo." He added softly. Sam's eyes watered and he quickly looked away.
"What," Sam cleared his throat and tried again, "What's wrong with him? Should we take him to the hospital again?" he asked.
"I don’t know, Sammy. He doesn’t want to go to the hospital. I don’t want him to get all worked up again, it's not worth it." John said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"So, what are we going to do?" Sam asked. His father gave him a long look.
"I got some information about the thing that's doing this to him." he said. Sam nodded lightly as realization spread across his features.
"You're going to go after it, aren’t you? You're going to hunt it?" he asked. John nodded, pushing himself up from the couch. He was tired, but there was no time to waste. The drive alone will take a day. He walked over to his room to pack his things, Sam at his heel. "You know where it is?" Sam asked as John pulled his duffle from under the bed, shaking it to make sure there weren’t any ants walking around in it.
"I'll find it." John said simply, walking over to his closet and packing a couple of shirts and an extra pair of jeans before starting on the weapons.
"How long will you be gone?" Sam asked, bringing over his father's favorite 9 mm.
"Not sure. It's a long drive, tiger." John said, and then stopped packing, straightening and looking at his youngest. "I'm gonna need you to hold the fort while I'm gone." He said, "I'm gonna need you to watch over your brother." Sam nodded quickly.
"And school?" he asked, making sure.
"I'm gonna need you here." John said, packing again. "I want Dean to stay in bed. I don’t want him to have any excuse to get up, other than going to the bathroom, you got it?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at his youngest. Sam nodded again. "He can't have any pills on an empty stomach. Make sure of that." John instructed. "And try to get him to eat something. And drink, he has to drink."
"I know." Sam said, no hint of irritation in his voice.
"And try to keep him calm. I don’t want him to get upset." John kept going, "I'm gonna leave you some money. You know how to get in touch with Pastor Jim." John paused for a moment, waiting for Sam's nod before he went on; "The keys to the Impala are on the table, just in case. And Sammy, anything happens, you get your brother to the hospital. Don’t think about it, get him there, you got it?"
"Yes, sir." Sam nodded again. He opened his mouth to ask something, but his father bit him to it.
"Don’t worry about the insurance, I'll handle that. Give them his real name, though, so they could get his file from the hospital in Bowie."
"Yes, sir." Sam said, following his father around, helping when he could.
"You should get some sleep, too, dude. It's late." John finished.
"Dad?" Sam followed his father to the door. John looked questioningly at him. "Just make sure you kill this sonofabitch. Make sure it's dead, and that it's not coming back." Sam said coldly. John gave his fifteen year old an appraising look, always amazed to find a tall, strong young man instead of a gangly boy.
He gave a slight nod before heading out the door and starting his newest hunt.
TBC
Where it all started >> 2 >> 3 >> 4 >> 5 >> 6 >> 7 >> 8 >> 9 >> 10 >> 11
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-12 05:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-12 05:28 pm (UTC)Yep, Dean's hurt. But, isn't that... um... fun? ;) lol
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-12 05:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-12 05:43 pm (UTC)Yeah, so I'm a slow-learning geek, so what? I got a pic made for this story! *smiles geekily* *hides*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-12 05:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-12 07:11 pm (UTC)I know this isn't a deathfic but bloody hell, can you make things any more painful for that boy?
You know already that I'm waiting (im)patiently for more ....
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-13 05:28 am (UTC)Why, yes. Yes, I can. *evil grin and wiggling eyebrows*
Plus, you know, there's still time to hurt more Winchesters... ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-12 09:12 pm (UTC)I like how John lies to get what he wants. Dean won't be happy when he finds out. Will Sam ever find out that this has anything to do with him?
Looking forward to more.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-13 05:30 am (UTC)I was hesitating about this a little, thought it'd make John sort of 'the bad guy', but seriously, I've seen the show. He ain't that nice ;)
As for Sammy... We don't call him the clueless wonder for nothing... He knows something's going on, but not that it has to do with him.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-12 11:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-13 05:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-13 01:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-13 05:32 am (UTC)Time for some @$$ kicking, right?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-25 03:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-25 05:59 am (UTC)