The Morning After
By: Karen B.
Dedicated to: IheartSam. Thank you so much for the push, friend!
Disclaimer: Not the owner.
Summary: Conclusion to Ninety-Nine Bottles. The morning after.
Sunshine, and happiness,
"Uhng," I groaned, lifting my head off the steering wheel, and untangling my arms. Hot sunlight shot in through the windshield, straight into my eyes, straight through my head -- out the other side. For a split second, I drew a complete blank. All I knew was I was alive. Breathing. Question was, where was I going in this life? Brain farts, sucked; driving everything you ever knew, or thought you knew out of your mind. Left you feeling crazy. "Crazy! Uhhh." A hard shiver clicked everything into place.
Crazy in the head -- wasn't hunting wraiths in a mental house. Crazy in the head -- was trying to drink ninety-nine bottles of beer with your lightweight kid brother -- in one night.
"Ssss..." I barely croaked. That handful of last nights dirt in my mouth -- had turned into cement. I worked my jaw, trying to get things working. "S'm?" I tried again, painfully twisting around to check the back seat.
Long and gangly was completely cocooned in the blanket I'd covered him with. Not so much as a piece of shaggy hair stuck out. If I didn't know better, I'd say the form was a dead body I'd forgotten to burn. That thought was chucked when I heard Sammy cooing and gurgling the way he always did from the time he was a baby.
I sighed, thinking I should wake the kid, make sure his crap was buried nice and deep, but nature called -- and when she did -- a guy had no choice but to go running. I pinched back the urge, none-to-quietly scrambling to get out of the car, slamming the door in my rush.
Ten long, hurried steps, unzip, whip the bad-boy out, and…"Ahhhhh," I sighed my relief, careful not to piss in the wind. Looking out over the canyon -- there was nothing to see -- it was morning. Black rock turned russet -- boring.
A heavy, blunt thumping noise took my attention from my leak-- and the boring rocks.
"Out!" Sam's groan came from his cocoon inside the car. "Need to get out~!" I could tell he was only semi-conscious. Like I said, brain-farts -- sucked.
"Bro!" I half-glanced over my shoulder toward baby, still pissing my river. "Use the damn door handle."
I turned back to finish answering the call, listening to more groaning. The car door squeaked open then slammed shut. I heard the sound of size thirteen and a half boots -- loss of balance, lack of coordination, slip-sliding over pebbled gravel.
Sam dropped down next to me on all fours. He looked so homely, dragging the blanket along with him like that Linus kid. His head hung low over the edge of the cliff. "Ahhhhhhh! He puked. "Raaaaaaa! Blahhhhhhh!" Shoulders violently drawing up to his ears with each wretch. " Haaaaaa! Caaaaaa!"
I finished my piss and zipped bad-boy back in, cringing at the sound of Sam -- vomit drunk, and throwing-up leftover crazy. I really hoped there were no hikers, rabbits, deer or buffalo, down below -- they'd get an ear full of…
"Gross," I muttered, peering sympathetically at my bro.
Kid was a mess. Unbuttoned shirt hanging off one shoulder, hair blowing in the wind -- every which way but short. Green skin, shaking hands gripping fistfuls of dirt and some gawd-awful crap spewing from his mouth. He was vomiting so hard, I began to wonder if he was just drunk or had some sort of disease.
"I hate you," Sam said when he seemed to be finished, peering up at me through wet bangs -- a lost look on his face.
"I know." I nodded in acknowledgement.
Drinking crap into a deep hole in the ground -- never felt good the morning after. Maybe next time we should give the Hilton a go. How bad could champagne and chandeliers be?
Sam hung his head. Vomiting again, and again -- then one more time -- only nothing came up except a string of slimy spit. "Ugggg." He flipped over -- spread eagle. "Wha' … guh!" Sam swiped the back of his hand across the drool seeping out the side of his mouth" "Wha' number?" he whispered, hand falling weakly to his chest.
"You're the all powerful and knowing mathematician…you tell me." I crouched down beside him.
Sam squinted up at me, his calculator brain trying to do the math for about ten seconds. "A lot." He squeezed his eyes shut as if it hurt too much to think -- I'm sure it did.
"Ninety-nine beers will do that to a guy," I laughed softly.
"Twenty-two." Sam somehow did the math. "Where are we?"
"Somewhere on planet earth," I answered.
"Oh, my head," he moaned
"Sam?" I put a hand on his quivering shoulder.
"Dude, don't talk so loud."
"Sam." I made sure to whisper.
"Jus…" Sam cringed. "Don't talk."
I was quiet for a moment watching Sam. His throat tightened and he swallowed a few times, fighting not to get sick again I imagined.
"Hey, you going to make it?"
"Yes." Sam pressed his lips together tight. He struggled to sit up. A normal skill that should have taken no time at all, took on superhuman strength he didn't have as he sprawled back to the ground.
"Really?" I dipped my head lower.
"No." Sam's head flopped to the left, and he stared out over the canyon. "Not really. Dizzy. Ground's trying to suck me down."
Kid was completely gutted, shaking so hard his teeth rattled -- or was that his brain?
"You going to be sick again?" No answer. "Sam?" Still no answer. "You're going to be sick... aren't you?"
"I'm okay." Sam's head flopped back and he looked at me, breathing fast.
"Slow it down, pal. Got anything left to yak?"
"Jus' my stomach lining."
"You with me?"
Sam stiffened, grit his teeth.
"Dude?" My belly contracted and I winced. Had he changed his mind from last night? Ninety-nine beers never backfired before.
"Follow you, Dean…wherever we go."
"That's my boy!" I said with pride and conviction. "Come on." I got him to his feet.
"Where we going?"
"Someplace they'll treat us like kings."
"Dean." Sam swayed back and forth clutching the blanket to him.
"Hold on, easy. Not going to let you or your blanky go, Sam."
"Me, too," Sam murmured.
"Me to, too," I added.
Both of us knowing exactly what we meant.