This is my first fic and the first time I'm using Hopefully I'm doing this right...well, I guess if your reading this it worked. Well, anyway, I hope you enjoy...
Disclaimer: I, quite obviously, do not own Sam nor Dean. All other characters and the plot is mine.
Dean readjusted his hands on the steering wheel as he reclined in his seat. He had been driving down the deserted highway for five hours. He honestly didn't think he had ever been more bored in his life. It wasn't bad enough that his main entertainment, Sam, was completely asleep, but because he was asleep, Dean couldn't even properly listen to the radio. What's the point of hard rock if it's not played loudly enough to feel the bass?
Dean sighed and put his hand out the window. He didn't even know where they were headed, just so long as it was far away from that damn motel room where he and Sam had spent their last week. One week trapped in a stuffy motel room was enough to make anyone crazy. If he had to look at the paisley, puke green bedspread, wallpaper, and carpet one more time he was going to throw up…again. That's what started it, the nauseous feeling that had come upon him last Tuesday night. After spending a night praying to the porcelain god, Dean had awakened the next morning to find Sam hovering over him with a hand on his head. That was unusual in itself, someone getting close enough to him in his sleep to actually touch him, but the amount of pain he was feeling made it clear that he was sick. Sam had later declared it "the flu" and forced ibuprofen and water upon his brother with no small amount of satisfaction. That was how it went for the next three days, Dean drifting in and out of pain and sleep with Sam intermittently force feeding him. It was on the fourth day when Dean awoke at noon presumably shortly after his fever had finally broke that he noticed Sam still in bed. Although the room was disgustingly warm, Sam was shivering and it didn't take a genius to figure out that he had also caught the flu. The roles now reversed, Dean attempted to care for Sam as best he could while recovering himself. Still, three days into Sam's flu experience, Dean was fully recovered and going stir crazy. It wasn't an hour after Sam's fever finally broke that Dean suggested getting back on the road. Dean laughed as he remembered the look on Sam's face…
"You can't be serious."
"Oh come on Sam. I've been waiting patiently for three days for you to lose the fever. I've cared for you, brought you food, catered to your every need, and have I complained once? No."
Sam sat on his bed, mouth agape. "Excuse me, but who was it who did all those things for you when you were sick."
Dean smirked, "Right, but you were healthy when you did your share, I was still sick. But I put my sickness aside to take care of your ass. You owe me."
The dumbfounded expression had never left Sam's face. He shook his head, "You can't be serious."
"You're getting senile Sam, you already said that." Knowing that he won the argument Dean began packing.
Sam laid back on his bed and groaned. "Dean, couldn't you wait just one more day. I still feel like crap man."
Sam jumped as Dean patted his leg. "Relax Sam you can sleep in the car just as well as you can sleep here."
Sam propped himself up on one elbow, mouth still agape, "No I can't. I can't lay down in the car. And you'll be blasting the music."
Dean looked at Sam as though he had just said something ridiculous, "I'm not going to blast the music, dude, you're sick. You need your rest. Now get your ass moving I've already packed your stuff."
Sam laid back down again and throwing his arm over his eyes, he groaned again. "Where are we even going?"
"Don't know, don't care. So long as it's far away from this dump. If I have to look at the puke green colored bedspread, wallpaper, and carpet one more minute, I'll blow my brains out."
And it was with that sentiment in mind that they headed out on the road. Now it was five hours later and Dean was unbelievably bored. Still, anything was better than that damn motel room.
Dean felt the wind rush through his fingers pushing his hand back as he drove down Route 20 of Central Wyoming. He viewed the brown and gold hills as he zoomed past wondering absently if there were any towns along this road. Since getting on the road he had only spotted four cars and one town. If there were no towns on the road, then there would be no motels on the road. Normally that would be fine, but Sam need a bed for the night, which meant a motel was needed. Still, he had another 4 hours or so before sunset, which left plenty of time to ponder which side road would lead to a…"What the Hell?"
Dean's thoughts were interrupted by the eight year old girl standing barefoot on the other side of the road. He slammed on the brakes and cringed as he saw Sam fall into his seatbelt and the dashboard. With the car now stopped Dean quickly looked in his side mirror to find…no girl. As Dean was turned around in his seat looking for the nonexistent child he heard Sam moan. "What's going on? What happened?"
"Sorry Sam. I just saw a little girl on the other side of the road."
Sam rubbed a sore spot on his shoulder where the seatbelt had held him in place. "Where are we?"
"The middle of nowhere. Hence, the abrupt stop."
Sam turned around to look out the back window. "I don't see anyone…did you say hence?"
Dean nodded, unbuckled his seat belt, and threw the car into park. "I'm going to go check it out."
Sam rubbed his eyes and groaned. "You think it's a spirit?"
"Well, I think there was a little girl barefoot, standing in the road, in the middle of nowhere who magically disappeared. So, yeah, I'm guessing a spirit." Dean expected some comeback from Sam regarding possible hallucinations and boredom, but it seemed that Sam was not up to par just yet.
"Just find the nearest motel. I'll be better in two days and we can hunt this thing."
"Sam. First, there is no nearest motel…middle of nowhere, remember? Second, it's the ghost of an eight year old girl…I think I can handle it. Third…"
"You don't know that. The girl could be a trap or a shape shifter or a small demon or a sprite…"
"Whatever it is, I'll deal."
Sam was leaned back in his seat with his eyes screwed shut. He was becoming annoyed. "Dean! We need to do research and know what we're fighting before we go up against this thing. A lot of shit has been happening lately and this could be a trap. Just wait two days. I'm sure this spirit- or whatever has been around for a while, two days isn't going to make any difference."
Dean sighed. It was no use arguing with Sam when he was sick. He moved to get out of the car. Sam opened his eyes and went to protest but Dean cut him off. "I'm just going to look for sulfur traces and do an EMF reading. Don't get your panties in a twist."
Sam leaned back and closed his eyes again. Dean continued talking while searching the backseat for his makeshift EMF scanner. "I'm not going to spend anytime anywhere near this area if there was never any girl there."
That comment got a raised eyebrow 'you doubt your own sanity?' look from Sam. Dean ignored the look, "just go back to sleep, I'll be back in a minute."
With that Dean left the car and scanned the area where he had seen the girl. Sure enough the EMF scanner gave off some readings and there were clearly traces of sulfur left where the girl had been standing. "I knew I wasn't crazy."
Dean stood up and stretched. Chances were that it really was just the ghost of some little girl that had been killed on the highway. All he had to do was find the bones or resolve the girl's unresolved issue. Dean looked over at the Impala; Sam had clearly fallen back asleep. Dean smiled and began checking the side of the road for the girl's bones. If he could find them, salt them, and burn them, then he wouldn't have to stay in the middle of nowhere and Sam wouldn't have a chance to argue about it. He looked up as he heard the sound of a car coming from the opposite direction that he had been driving. Dean moved further off to the side of the road as he searched for skeletal evidence. Looking up again, he saw that the car was now much closer although it seemed somewhat blurry. Blurry? Dean's brain seemed to process the visual information in slow motion. At first he thought it was an illusion caused by the heat on the pavement, but then he realized with a start that the blur was the girl rematerializing in front of the car. He watched as the driver of the car took in the sight of the girl almost at the same time as he did. Dean's breath became stuck in his chest as disbelief and denial trembled through his body. The other driver turned the wheel hard to the left to avoid hitting the girl. Dean still hadn't breathed as he watched the terrified look on the driver's face as he slammed on the breaks before crashing head on into the Impala. He heard the break's squeal, the metal crunch, and the glass break. His heart beat wildly in his chest and he squeezed his eyes tight as much to miss watching the horror of the crash as to pretend to himself that if he didn't see it, it didn't happen. But when he opened his eyes, it had happened. The Impala sat almost directly in front of him having been pushed backward about 20 feet by the other car. The windshield was gone, the front bumper was no longer attached, and the hood was dented and pushed into the interior of the car. The other car had steam coming out from under the folded hood. The two airbags had gone off and the interior of the car was filled with white smoke. Dean took in the scene as he ran to the driver side window, which apparently was also missing.
"Sammy!" Sam laid unmoving, facing the other door; a light splattering of blood covered his clothes. Dean pulled on the door, but it was stuck. Realizing that he couldn't reach Sam from the driver's side, Dean ran to the passenger's side and yanked open the door. Thankfully it had not been wedged shut in the crash. Dean was even more thankful to realize that Sam's eyes were open and he was still wearing his seatbelt. Dots of blood covered his face, but upon visual inspection, Dean couldn't find any objects sticking out of his brother and there was no pool of blood anywhere- both good things.
Dean crouched down and grabbed both sides of his brother's face forcing Sam to look at him. "Sammy?" Sam blinked and looked up at Dean. His eyes were glassy and he had a confused, terrified look about him. Dean supposed that waking up as a car is crashing into you is enough to confuse and terrify anyone. Hell, he was terrified and he had been wide-awake for the whole thing.
"Sammy talk to me." Dean's voice had a pleading tone and Sam knew he was worried. If only his lungs would work. Sam took a deep breath and let it out. He closed his eyes and reminded himself not to tear up- that wouldn't help. He needed to let Dean know, "I'm okay."
Dean took his hands off of his brother but looked unconvinced- and panicked. Sam took another breath and felt the tears hit his eyes despite his willing them back in- at least they didn't fall. He looked at Dean again, "I'm just a little shook up." He took another deep breath, willing himself to calm. "What happened?"
"Little ghost girl thought it'd be cute to make a car go off the road. Unfortunately you were in the way." Dean let himself be sarcastic in the hope it would help calm Sam. He saw the panic and the tears and figured Sam's look wasn't far from his own. As Sam leaned back in the seat, clearly trying to calm himself, Dean looked at the other car. Both passenger and driver (a man and a woman) were standing on the driver's side of the car looking dazed. Neither seemed seriously injured. The man noticed Dean looking at him.
"What the hell was that girl doing in the road? Where is she? Is she yours? What the hell were you doing parked in the middle of nowhere with your daughter running around on a highway!"
Dean took a breath, "Dude! Chill. The girl isn't mine. I stopped the car because I saw her in the road and thought she might need help. I was looking for her when you almost hit her." It was pretty much the truth- for the most part.
The woman, still shaking from the accident, looked around. "I don't see her anywhere. Oh God, did we hit her!"
Dean shook his head. "If you'd hit her there'd be a body." The couple cringed and Dean moved on to explain. "She probably got scared by the crash and ran off. My guess is she lives somewhere around here."
Just then Dean felt Sam grab his arm hard. He looked down to find Sam sweating and looking up at him. "Dean." Dean could tell by the way Sam said his name that they needed a hospital. The woman must have heard it too, "Is he alright? We should call an ambulance."
Her male counterpart agreed before adding, "and the police; they need to know about the girl." He quickly called 911. Dean was glad for it because the man seemed to have a better idea of where in Wyoming they were than Dean did.
Dean nodded at the couple and crouched down to Sam. "What's wrong?"
Sam closed his eyes and a tear spilled out. He opened his eyes again and looked at Dean. He wanted to say a lot of things, ask where the dots of blood were coming from, tell Dean that he felt really achy, that he thought his fever had come back, that he wanted to throw up, lie down, see a doctor, and then apologize to Dean for dragging a doctor into this and making things complicated. However, the nauseous feeling and the residual panic from the accident seemed to make it impossible to say anything. Still, he needed Dean's help and he'd have to communicate that somehow. So he squeezed harder on Dean's arm and stared at him.
"Sammy." Dean put his free hand on the side of Sam's head. He was going to say 'tell me what's wrong' but he realized that he had already asked that and clearly Sam couldn't answer. Dean slid his hand to Sam's forehead and felt the heat. "Your fever's back."
Clearly that's what Sam had been trying to communicate because in response to that comment, Sam dropped Dean's arm, sagged back into the seat and closed his eyes. He really wanted to throw up.
The couple announced that an ambulance and the police would be arriving within the next 5 min. Dean wondered how that was possible given their 'middle of nowhere' location as he realized that Sam was still buckled in. He unbuckled Sam, put his arms under Sam's armpits and pulled him up and out of the car. Sam leaned against Dean with his head against Dean's chest. He found it odd that he was less nauseous standing up then he was sitting down, but then attributed the lack of nausea in some way to Dean holding him up. It was short lived though as Dean laid him back on the ground. Sam heard the sirens coming and opened his eyes to reassure Dean, "I'm feeling better."
Dean still had one hand on Sam but was looking towards the police cars, "When the ambulance comes, you're going to the hospital."
Sam didn't argue.