Okay, here's the deal. I'm stuck in a hotel with my mother who snores loud enough to drown out a freight train rolling down the tracks behind your house, she wouldn't let me listen to AC/DC and let me feel cool just like Dean the whole way up here, and this damn hotel wont let me get the internet on my laptop cause apparently not all laptops are special ones like Sam's that will let you connect to the internet in the most rural locations even with no internet connection. So this is what happens when I am incredibly bored: I write crappy stories. This is a one shot since I have proven that I am completely incapable of completing a story. If this sounds familiar to anybodies story, I apologize, but I really tried to make it different from all the other hurt!Sammy fics, however, there's only so many ways to write a story like this …
Disclaimer. In case you missed the part where I can't even get a hotel with internet connection, or if you're just too dense to figure out that that means I have little to no money, then I shall state now that I in no way, shape or form own the show Supernatural, nor anything affiliated with it, The WB or The CW. If I did, the boys J&J, The Metallicar and I would be having a whole lot of fun right about now P
"Sam, c'mon man, just stay awake a little longer and then I'll let you go to sleep," Dean said from the driver's seat of the Impala. They'd been driving for 15 minutes now and they were almost back to the hotel. "C'mon little brother, it's only another 5 minutes away. I'll stitch up that head of yours and you can go to sleep, ok?"
Sam, too tired to give a coherent response nodded and made an affirmative noise. His whole head felt like it was about to bust open and he just wanted to sleep. He found Dean's an incredibly cruel request. 'Stay awake', yeah, easier said then done. The urgency in Dean's voice kept him awake, though. Dean said just a few minutes. That shouldn't be too hard.
Dean glanced back at this brother. This was all his fault. If only he had gone into the house first he would have been the one bashed over the head by the random flying objects that the enraged poltergeist decided to fling across the room. If he had gone in first, Sam's head wouldn't have been busted open by the corner of that end table when the angered spirit decided he wasn't up for company. Blood was still flowing freely from the large gash that was located just above Sam's left temple. Though he didn't mention it to Sam, he probably had a concussion and the longer that Sam stayed awake, the better. Seeing that his brother was trying to fall asleep again he put his hand on Sam's shoulder and gently shook it. "Dude, wake up. I'm serious. There is no way I'm dragging your ass into the hotel. Stay awake or I'm going to let you stay in the car all night."
While Sam new that Dean would never let him stay in the car all night after an injury, he yanked his eyes back open and stayed awake for the duration of the ride. Dean quickly pulled into the parking lot of the motel that they had resided in for the past week and screeched to a halt in front of their room. Sam reached over to open the door just as it was yanked out of his reach. He blearily looked over and saw that Dean was already there waiting for him to get out of the car. Sam slowly swung his legs out of the car, but found that the rest of the movement to exit the car was nearly impossible to achieve in this condition. He allowed Dean to grab his upper arms and he did his best to assist his big brother in helping him out of the car.
Dean finally got Sam out of the car and he allowed him to lean on him as he shut the door to the Impala. He reached over and grabbed Sam's arm and draped it over his neck and he put a hand on his waist to keep him upright. "Okay, just a few steps away from the door, Sammy."
"Iss, Sam," Sam slurred from under his brother's grasp as he fought the dizziness that threatened to tip him over.
"Yeah, sure it is kid. Just stay with me. That's it, just a few more steps." As they reached the door to their room, Dean shifted Sam slightly and opened the door. He walked in and gently dropped Sam on the bed furthest from the door. He heard a slight moan from Sam as his head hit the pillow and saw that his eyes were tightly shut in pain. "Stay right there Sammy, I just gotta run and get the first aid kit. I'll be right back. Stay awake!" Dean bolted to the bathroom, grabbed the first aid kit and raced back to his brother's side. He pulled out the peroxide and a small cotton ball. "Ok, this is gonna sting a little Sammy." Sam just nodded his head that he understood. "You know," Dean went on. "You got blood on my seats. You realize that you have to clean that up in the morning, right?"
Sam slowly opened his eyes and looked incredulously at his brother. He had a gaping head wound and all his brother could think about was blood in the interior of his precious car? Thinking about it, it didn't quite surprise him. He shook his head as much as the blinding pain would allow him and rolled his eyes at his smirking brother. If his head didn't hurt so much he would have reach up and hit Dean, but he settled for the eye roll. Before he knew it, Dean was applying the threatening cotton ball to his head and he snapped his eyes shut again in pain. He let out a soft moan as the stinging continued even after Dean had removed his hand.
"That wasn't so bad now was it, kid?" Dean said. He knew it hurt, but being light about the subject was the best way to go. He pulled out a needle and thread and prepared to sew up the wound on his brother's head. "Are you ready Sam? This is gonna be much worse then the peroxide."
"I've had stitches before jerk. I know how they feel."
"Alright, bitch. I was just trying to give you fair warning." He did the first stitch and paused a second at the sound of his brother's breath hitching in pain. He hated that his brother was in pain and the best way to help him was to cause even more. He did though as he did another stitch, this time not pausing as Sam made his quiet protest to the pain.
"You know, I might just have to shave your hair off to finish this, Sammy," Dean lied, trying to distract his brother.
Sam opened his eyes and glared at his brother. He wouldn't put it past Dean to shave his head and claim that it was necessary to finish stitching up his head. He saw his brother smiling down at him, though, and knew that he was just trying to distract him, just as he had when he was younger and had gotten hurt and needed to be stitched up. The distraction wasn't good enough though as Dean made yet another stitch into his head. He closed his eyes once more and concentrated on not passing out. It was times like these when he wished that they could go to the hospital for a few sedatives before the patching up. It was, however, out of the question and this was something that he had long ago accepted.
He thought of the first time he had to have stitches. He was 6 years old and his father had let him go out on a hunt with him and Dean. Sure he had gone with them on hunts before, but he was always made to stay in the car and wait for the big bad to be killed. But this time he was allowed to go. He had been given training for a long time and had finally begged his father enough to let him tag along. About halfway through getting rid of the ghosts from a little old lady's house, he was thrown into corner of a dresser, effectively puncturing his arm.
"Sam!" John yelled from the other end of the room as he saw his youngest son get thrown across the room. Before he could even tell him to, Dean was at his brother's side, trying to reassure the hurt boy.
"It's okay, Sammy. Just a little cut, maybe a little bruising in the morning, but you'll be just fine. And hey, maybe you'll have a cool scar like me that all the chicks'll dig when you're older." Sam laughed at his brother's attempt to make him feel better.
"C'mon kid, let's get you back to the car. We can wait for dad there, okay?"
"M'kay, Dean," Sam said through tears. He sniffled and allowed his brother to haul him to his feet, pulling on his good arm. "Dean, is this going to need stitches?" he asked in a quiet voice, cradling his arm to his chest.
"Probably Sammy, but it'll be okay. I'll be there the whole time."
"M'kay … thanks Dean."
Dean was applying pressure to the wound as John ran out of the house and into the Impala. He drove as fast as he could back to the motel where they stitched up and bandaged Sam's arm.
Sam was pulled out of his reminiscence by Dean's voice.
"All done, Frankenstein. I must say, this is one of my better jobs." He said as he put a gauze over the newly stitched wound. "Seriously, I should have been a doctor. Chicks dig doctors; with all their money and expensive cars. What do you think, Sammy?"
"I don't know," Sam said tiredly. "I think you would have made a better nurse. Pink scrubs, cleaning bed pans."
"Oh, very funny little brother," Dean said and lightly punched Sam on the arm. He saw that his brother was just about to fall asleep. "C'mon, dude, let's get those shoes off first."
Sam moved to reach down to his shoes, but barely got his arms raised before they fell back to his sides.
"Mmm, maybe I'll jus leave 'em on," he replied tiredly.
Dean sighed and reached down to Sam's feet and gently pulled off his shoes and socks. He then went and removed Sam's shirt as it had blood spilled all over it. "You tell anyone about this and I'll kill you," he whispered quietly so that he wouldn't wake up his brother who had just drifted off to sleep. He stood up and went over to the bed closest to the door, pulled off his own shoes and grabbed the remote off the side table. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight.
"Dean," he heard his brother whisper from the next bed.
"Thanks … for everything," he said and drifted back to sleep.
"Anytime little brother. Anytime."
Okay, so there you have 1658 words of boredom from yours truly. I know the hurt!Sammy getting patched up by Dean thing has been written to death, but what can I say? I'm a sucker for that kid getting hurt. P Anyway, drop me a review. This is my first one-shot and my first attempt at a Supernatural story and I'd really like to know what y'all though.