Title: The Cavalry Don't Always Show Up On Horseback
Disclaimer: I don't own Sam, or Dean, or Bobby – now ask me if I'm happy about it….
Author's Notes: This ficlet includes the E/O Challenge word "ankle"- see if you can find it, my lovelies.
Spoilers: Takes place the day after "And What Happened After That". Once again, this is all sidjack's fault –er- I mean inspiration at work. She wanted some Hurt!Dean and Hurt!Sam with Bobby taking care of them. So I wrote this, the finale of the "Sprained Ankle" series.
Spoiler Alert: None.
"So lemme see if I've got this right," Bobby said to the pair of hunters who lay sprawled on their motel beds. "You two went out lookin' for a Wendigo… which turned out to be a bear. You both scrambled up a tree, waited the bear out, then Sam climbed down, and Dean-"
"Plummeted like a rock and crashed into me," Sam finished.
"Hey! I already TOLD you I didn't mean to fall on you…" Dean snarled.
"Which didn't make my ankle hurt any less…"
Two semi-contrite voices chimed almost in unison "Sorry, Bobby."
Bobby continued. "So Sam's right ankle gets sprained, and you two somehow manage to make it back to this motel without any other incidents…"
"Besides Sam pouting like a five year old," Dean chimed in.
"I wasn't pouting!" Sam said defensively.
"Oh, please – you're lower lip was sticking so far out I thought you were trying to kiss the dashboard."
"I'm not the one that wants to make out with the car, Dean. That's YOUR kink, not mine."
"Boys…" Bobby began, trying to steer the conversation back to Sanity Land
Emerald green eyes narrowed. "You insulting my Baby?" Dean's voice had dropped to a very dangerous tone. He tried to raise himself off his bed, but the pain that shot up his leg made him wince and fall back down on the mattress.
"If the shoe fits –" Sam retorted.
"Okay, that's ENOUGH!" Bobby barked. For a brief moment silence reigned. "So you get back here, and Dean manages to sprain his ankle last night tripping over his duffle bag." He tried to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. From the curt nod and the glare he got from the older Winchester, he didn't quite succeed. "That much I get. What I don't understand," he said, looking over at Sam, "is what happened to you. I thought your right ankle was botherin' you. Why's your left one wrapped up?"
Sam looked down at the bedspread, trying to hide the flush that was creeping up his cheeks. He sighed, and raised his head to gaze up at the older man. "Well, when I woke up this morning, and I put some pressure on my foot, it didn't hurt as badly." He smiled slightly. "I was pretty psyched about it. Dean was still sleeping, so thought I'd go get a shower…" his voice trailed off.
"And?" Bobby prompted. Dean snorted; Bobby silenced him with a glare.
Sam's blush deepened and his next words came out in a rush.
"And I slipped on a wet patch of floor in the bathroom after I got dressed and twisted my left ankle even worse than my right one." Sam bowed his head again, bangs lowering over his eyes like a curtain. He shyly glanced up at Bobby, who just sat there, listening.
"So how did Dean…?"
"Like I'm gonna leave Sam sprawled all over the bathroom floor," Dean interrupted. "I got up and helped Captain Dexterity over onto his bed."
"Which aggravated your own sprained ankle, so now all you both can do is hop around on one foot each like couple of demented jackrabbits?" Bobby asked dryly. The brothers looked at each other, and both nodded their heads. "And then Sam called me."
Dean's expression went from indignant to pained "Jeez, Bobby, when you say it like that you make us sound like we're still kids!"
The look Bobby tossed him pretty much said it all. As far as Bobby was concerned, the Winchesters boys would always be just that – boys.
And right now, those boys needed him.
Bobby got up from the chair he'd been sitting in, walked over and lightly touched Dean's swollen ankle. Even wrapped in a towel, Dean couldn't help but wince. Bobby then repeated the same procedure with Sam, and got the same pain-filled response.
The elder hunter sighed. "I swear, if you boys didn't have bad luck you'd have no luck at all." He turned to Sam, helped him get a little more comfortable on the bed, and then did the same thing for Dean. Dean tried to protest, but in the end he simply let Bobby do what he did best – take care of the two of them.
After he was sure the brothers were situated, he headed toward the door. "Be back in a little while," he said over his shoulder.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked.
Bobby turned, leaned against the door. "Well, first I'm gonna go to that little store next door and get us some food. I'll pick up some more aspirin, too, and a couple of sport bandages. Then I'm stoppin' by the motel's office, and see if they've got a cot and an extra blanket." He chuckled a little at the looks the brothers were giving him – mild surprise mixed in a with a little hope. "What? You two are in no shape for travelin'. Just rest, and don't move off those beds. Else you're answerin' to me." With that pronouncement, he walked out the door.
For a second of two there was silence. Dean muttered softly "Who does he think he is?"
"He's Bobby," Sam replied. A grin brought out his dimples. "And he's the reason our luck will never be ALL bad."