A/N: Dedicated to Muffy Morrigan. My loving big sis and mentor who deserve a lot for all the things she'd do unselfishly to lot of people. hugs
Thank you very much Abni , my sis… for the wonderful beta reading and making this story awesome :D huge hug
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke…
Story sets after John's funeral. My head is in "Ever the Same" story these days so it's pretty much stuck in season 2. So yeah here's another story :) Hope you'll enjoy it
Bobby sighed as he looked at the Winchester boys from his truck. They'd wanted to come alone, but Bobby had refused as none of them looked fit to drive. Dean was freshly out of the hospital and had only stayed at his place for a day, and Sam wasn't in any better condition. Both of them were emotionally and physically spent after the funeral. They were hurting…lost in their grief and sorrow. Bobby wished he could help them more. He was glad that they had at least agreed to stay with him, whether because of concern for the Impala or not.
Bobby had driven them to one of the old run-down funeral house so they could have a peaceful quiet funeral for their father. He had come back to pick them up after three hours during which he had left the boys to themselves. Bobby took a deep breath and walked towards the boys. He reached Sam first, thinking that it would be easier to coax Sam away from there than Dean.
He gently placed a hand on the younger Winchester's shoulder, not wanting to startle the younger boy. He felt Sam flinch slightly before turning to look at him. Instinctively, Bobby flung his arm around Sam when he saw the grief–stricken, tear-streaked face. Sam leaned heavily on him, hiding his face against Bobby's neck. Sam's body shook with each sob, and Bobby drew comforting circles on the shaking back, hoping that would ease the pain at least a little bit, though knowing it wouldn't. Bobby gazed at Dean worriedly, knowing he was usually there to comfort his brother. Dean was standing still …too still for Bobby's liking. Bobby was worried more about Dean, as he still remembered how withdrawn Dean had been when he first met him. It was almost a year after Mary Winchester's death …the little boy was withdrawn and clutched tightly to John. Dean had been focused on Sammy then, but lately that habit seemed to have died away. This worried Bobby more than anything else. Bobby sighed again, running his fingers through Sam's hair.
Bobby guided Sam back to the truck with a comforting hand on his back, helping him as the younger boy stumbled. Bobby guessed the exhaustion of the past days was finally setting in. He helped Sam into the back seat. Sam blinked at him tiredly, his brow furrowed with lines Bobby realized were caused more by pain than by simple exhaustion. Bobby gently squeezed Sam's knee. "You alright there?" he asked gruffly, emotions getting the best of him too. "Yeah….jus' headache," Sam slurred, his head lolling away. Bobby's eyes narrowed in worry. Although Dean and John had been worst off after the accident, Sam didn't escape unharmed. The doctor had informed him that Sam had suffered a mild concussion when Bobby had claimed to be boys' uncle when Dean signed himself out AMA to take charge of John's body. "You take your meds?" Bobby asked sharply. Sam grimaced. "I forgot….Dad…" Sam's voice trailed away. Bobby tried hard not to let his anger win. "Do you have them with you now?" he asked, placing his hand on Sam's forehead checking his temperature. Sam leaned into the touch. 'No fever.. damn, that's a relief at least.' Sam blinked at him. "Don't have…. dunno migraine …I guess," Sam mumbled and closed his eyes. Bobby cursed inwardly. "K, let's get your brother inside." Giving Sam's knee a final pat, Bobby left him alone.
The flames of the funeral pyre had died away only to cause more grief. Sam wiped his tears away and snuffled. He looked at Dean, who was still staring at the place where the pyre once was. They were exhausted and drained from the emotional roller coaster they had been on these last few days. And during their father's funeral, the weight of guilt and grief had crashed heavily onto him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. The headache he'd had when they left Bobby's house had rapidly grown more intense. Sam feared it would eventually turn into a migraine, and at that moment he just didn't want to have to cope with it. Sam flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 'Must be Bobby,' he thought absentmindedly as he turned to see who it was. It was indeed Bobby, and much to his surprise Bobby drew him into a one-armed hug. Sam melted into the hug as he started sobbing. He felt Bobby's hands comforting him.
Once he had calmed down, Bobby led him back to the truck. He was stumbling almost all the way there, feeling more tired with each step. Bobby helped him inside the truck . Sam sat down on the back seat, sighing heavily and leaning back on the seat. He let his eyes close and tried to block out the surroundings. Bobby squeezed his knee. "You alright there?" Bobby's voice was pretty much killing him. "Yeah….jus' headache." Sam forced the words out and let his head loll away from Bobby's voice. "You had your medication?" Bobby asked. Only then did Sam realize he'd forgotten to take his medication. He grimaced, knowing Bobby was going to be pissed. He had completely forgotten it as John's funeral had become a priority. "I forgot….Dad…" Sam's voice trailed away as he swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that formed in his throat. "Do you have them with you now?" Bobby asked, placing his hand on his forehead. Sam leaned into the touch, drawing comfort from the older man. The hand disappeared, and Sam blinked at Bobby. "Don't have…. dunno migraine …I guess," he mumbled and closed his eyes, wanting to block out everything around him, and most of all everything inside him. It was too painful. "K, let's get your brother inside." He felt a pat on his knee, then Bobby left him alone.
The flames had died down, taking the last piece of their father off into the wind with the ashes. Dean stood perfectly still not wanting to move and face the world just yet …especially not Sam. He didn't know how to handle his own grief, let alone help Sam along the way. Dean's thoughts kept going back to what his dad had said at the end and what he had done. He wished his restless mind would not go there, which only made him more depressed, but unfortunately his mind was not helping at all. He kept going to that dark place. Dean was startled when he felt the hand on his shoulder. He turned around, wishing that it was not his brother, yet somehow wishing it was. He almost sighed in relief when he saw that it wasn't Sam, and Dean felt guilty about it. Bobby rubbed his eyes . "Tell me that least you took your medication?" the older man asked tiredly.. Dean's eyes narrowed and his big-brother-alarm went off. " Is Sam ok?" he asked worriedly, looking around for Sam. His alarms went nuts when he couldn't see his little brother around. "Damn, was I this lost to this world?' Dean kicked himself mentally. "He's in my truck with a headache… He forgot to take his meds," Bobby said, staring at the place where the funeral pyre had been. " Damn!" Dean cursed and clenched his fists. Bobby stopped him on his way to the truck. "Just don't lash out on the kid." Dean raised an eyebrow. Bobby shrugged and cleared his throat. " I'll be back. Give me a few moments," he said stiffly, and Dean nodded in acknowledgment.
Dean rushed to the truck, wanting to be near his brother. Despite his anger, he gently opened the door and found his little brother almost curled up into a tight ball, making his anger disappear on the spot. He gently reached out to touch Sam's forehead,. his fingers gently running through Sam's hair and coming to rest on Sam's neck. Sam blinked at him, his eyes hooded, making Dean wonder whether it was an ordinary headache or not. "Migraine," Sam whispered and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Dean groaned inwardly. 'Shit, this can't be good.' He gently climbed in, not wanting to cause further discomfort to the younger boy, and gently eased Sam's head onto his lap. He brushed Sam's hair from his forehead and started to rub his forehead with soothing movements, smoothing out the lines evidencing the pain his brother was in. Sam whimpered but leaned into the touch. After several minutes, Bobby returned. He opened and closed the truck door softly, and Dean held on to Sam trying his best to prevent him from getting rocked as Bobby started the car and they drove away from the clearing. Bobby drove them to the clinic of one of his friends. He helped Dean drag his brother to the clinic, but even then, Sam almost lost consciousness.
The doctor looked over the prescription which Dean had luckily brought and prescribed strong medication for migraines. He ordered bed rest, too, and told them to avoid any possible triggers. Dean and Bobby eyed each other as they nodded. The doctor gave Sam a shot to ease the suffering younger boy's pain, whereupon Bobby helped Dean get Sam safely back out and inside the truck.
Soon after, Dean eased the younger boy down onto the bed. Being careful and gentle, Dean stripped Sam and bundled him inside the comforter. He was glad that Sam was out of it so he didn't have to suffer more than he already did. He grabbed one of the wash cloths and wet it with lukewarm water. Wringing it twice and making it damp, he settled it on Sam's forehead. Then he gently wiped Sam's hair out of his eyes and ran his hand through Sam's mop of hair. 'I'm sorry I wasn't there for you… It's just, I don't know how to cope with this….I'm sorry, Sammy,' Dean thought, gently messaging Sam's head as silent tears started to run down his face.
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