Summary: Sam can't hear the words Dean is saying very clear, and Dean has trouble making any sense of what Sam is saying.
Warning: None, just fluff.
Disclaimer:
There is a reason for it to be a disclaimer; I think it makes pretty much sense without me having to say more.


Talking My Language

Freaking great! Why do the spirits always want to play catch with no one to grab? I think as I move over to my rather unconscious brother. It had been a simple salt-and-burn case, simple as crap though, nothing is ever simple when it some to us – the Winchester's in general.

We had gotten to the cemetery pretty easily, yes, but then the fun began. While digging the grave the spirit of Misses Sylvia Hamilton had shown up. We managed to get our shotguns loaded with rock salt and shoot her, and succeeding, and as soon as she had disappeared we had hurried to finish the digging part and Sam had covered the bones in salt.

Of course, like if it was a movie, Miss Hamilton had decided to wait to appear again until the last second. Just as I was about to lit up the matches, she showed up and threw Sam into a big tree, whereupon he fell down into two large bushes, which of course had no leaves on because it is friggin' winter!

The sound of my little brother hitting the tree is still echoing in my head, but at least I managed to set the bones on fire before she could do any more damage, and now I'm standing here, trying to figure out how I will get the Sasquatch out of the bushes.

Sighting deeply, I stamp the highest branches away with my feet, and move over to my brother. As I get nearer he starts to stir, and he turns a bit in his haze, which makes a crutching sound under him.

"Sammy?" I ask, kneeling down beside him. I can see the small cuts in his face and knuckles, but they are nothing serious, what I'm looking for is any sign of internal bleedings. Sam is slowly opening his eyes and showing them to the world, which turns out to put me in a pretty funny situation.

"Sammy? Come on, just open your eyes, yeah like that, you have to wake up," Sam is, for once, obeying me, and he opens his eyes completely, but like the collision with the tree has given him amnesia, he looks up at me confused.

"Hey Sam, you think you can stand? I can't haul your heavy ass out of here; you have to help a bit," Sam just glares at me, which makes me concerned; normally he would have said something by now.

"You okay Sam? Say something, you hurt?" The short sentences should be pretty clear, and my voice should have told him that I'm really concerned, but he still looks like he doesn't understand. Then suddenly, he moves his tongue over his lips to make them wet, and then opens his mouth to say something.

"I'd un'an wh'o 'ay," Sam whispered, shaking his head. This time I probably looked like an idiot who don't understand, but Sam is really not making any sense.

"Just take it easy Sam, I don't understand what you just said," I sooth and put my hand under his brother's neck to lift him up a little.

"Ex'tly wa' I 'id," Sam mumble and lifts his head along with my hand; I can feel him lifting further and tries to sit up.

oooO0Oooo

God, my head hurts, and why are all these small sticks sticking into my skin? Oh yeah, I had been thrown into a tree and I've probably landed in the bushes, but what about Dean?

I have to check on him, when I've figured out if my own body is intact. One at a time: Legs can move, check. Arms hurting, check. Head feels like someone just ran it over, definitely still sitting on my body, check. Nothing actually sticking into my body or worse, check. So far so good, now I just have to turn around.

Something is making a noise behind me, and I turned around to see if it's Dean or Hamilton trying to get her claws in me again.

"'my?" Okay, I can't exactly hear what he's saying, but I'm really pretty sure it is Dean. I open my eyes, and there is the most beautiful face I could have seen now. Not beautiful as in beautiful, but as I you know, he's my brother and … Oh, my head hurts, I definitely think too much.

"Sa'? Co'n, ju' ju'n your, lithat, yo'e up," What is he saying? He sounds like he is talking with a big potato in his mouth. I am sure I look at him like I'm crazy; but seriously, it's hard to make sense out of what he tries to say while having a killer headache.

"'ey Sam, th'ou 'an 'and? I an't hau'r he'vy ass o'f're; 'ou help a't," okay, so either Dean is nuts, or I hit my head really hard, because I can really not understand anything of what he's saying. At least I can see his face which makes me able to indicate his mood, right now he's concerned.

"You 'ay 'am? Say 'thing, hu't?" Okay, that I can fairly point out to be: he wants me to talk, and, okay otherwise I understand it.

"I don't understand what you are saying," my voice is little, fat and resounding in my ears, but I am pretty sure that's what I said. Dean though, looks like I'm the idiot, but I can see he sighs and starts talking again.

"Ju't I' ea'am, I on't und'and 'ou j'aid," Dean is still not making much sense, but I think he said he didn't understand what I just said, maybe we're cursed. We can't understand what each other are saying? I can feel his hand under my neck, and I am lifted up little, and so I decide to try and sit up.

"Exactly what I said," I answered while sitting up, though I quickly regret it. My head is spinning and small black spots are dancing in front of me, god I wish I could just dance with them right now, I feel like crap, at least Dean will help me back to the motel and maybe tug me in?

oooO0Oooo

So, I really think Sam hit his head, because we're in the car, and he still talks like he is drugged with some really heavy shit.

"Okay Sammy, let's try again. Are you hurt?" I hadn't found any other wounds than the small scratches on his back, face and knuckles, and I hadn't gotten Sam to tell me if anything I couldn't see hurt. Sam only kept babbling unintelligible words.

"W't 'ay? I'ne," Sam mumble, closed his eyes and rests his head on the cool window.

"Maybe you just need to sleep Sam," I say, and just as I finish a low snoring can be heard from my little brother. "Maybe I'm the psychic," I think, still keeping an eye on Sam, I can't find any signs of a concussion, but there might still a chance that he could have a mild one.

oooO0Oooo

I wake up in a bed. It is dark, and someone is snoring at my left. Definitely my brother, I think, he must have almost carried me into the motel room, because I don't remember getting here at all.

I sit up, my head is quite okay, only my legs feel a bit weird, but it's probably because I haven't really used them since yesterday morning. I sling them over the edge of the bed to go out to the bathroom, but I'm stopped by a sudden light blinding me.

"You up Sam?" It's my brother; he looks sleepy, like always I think. He has probably been up most of the night to watch over me, wouldn't be surprised if he has only gotten an hour of sleep at the moment.

"Yeah," I say, giving sign for him to just go back to sleep, but he doesn't give up so easily.

"You do now what I'm saying right? You're back to normal now?" It sounds like I've been run over by a truck and fixed by a butcher who made me an alien or something.

"Yeah, of course I am," I say and get up. "You just couldn't talk very clear this morning; I understood nothing of what you said." I say, but Dean just looks at me again, like I'm crazy.

"Dude, you weren't very clear yourself, I could understand a dog better than you back then, you talked like you had a big potato in your mouth," Dean says, and that actually makes sense. We couldn't understand each other because I couldn't talk or hear; of course it was me…

"Of course I couldn't talk clear, I had just been the ball in a play of catch with a tree," I say and go out to the bathroom, ignoring Dean's huff of a laugh.

When I come back, Dean is lying with his back to my bed, still and sounding asleep. I get down under my own covers and tug myself in. Before I go to sleep there's just one thing I need to do. Even though I'm pretty sure my brother's still awake, he can't blackmail me later if does hear me, because then I'll use: him hovering over me, so … Here we go.

"Thank you, for everything Dean."