Title: Molly's New Neighbors
Genre/pairing: Supernatural, hurt/comfort
Characters: Dean W. and Sam W. and a spunky pregnant lady, Molly
Word-count: approx. 3,500
Summary: Dean is ill, so Sam finds them a temporary place to stay. Molly is very curious about her new neighbors and proceeds to nose about.
Disclaimer: The Winchesters are not mine.
Written for prompt at hoodietime - PG, Sam, Dean, OCs, gen
I'm craving some outsider POV. That mysteriously tall guy who lives across the street looks so worn out all the time, which is understandable, since he has to look after his chronically ill and/or permanently injured brother (or boyfriend). They totally need a casserole or some other act of human kindness.
"Molly's New Neighbors."
Molly sighed as she closed her mailbox. Empty. Not even one piece of junk mail to carry to the garbage. She patted her bulging belly affectionately. "I know you're going to be the greatest baby in the world when you get here, but right now you are really putting a crimp in your mommy's life." Sighing again, she debated on going for a walk, a very small, very short walk. "I know Daddy and the doctor said to stay close to the house and no strenuous activity for the next three weeks, but I wouldn't go very far."
Molly frowned and came close to stamping her foot like a fractious toddler. It wasn't fair. Last week she had been a joyously pregnant dog walker and now she was a bored out her head, pregnant woman on house arrest. It had only been some cramping, just a handful of times really, and a little bit of blood, just a little, and poof! Molly was done with her job until after junior's birth and maternity leave.
She was so lucky to have her job. There were lots of people in this neighborhood who had dogs, but no time to exercise them and Molly adored being outside and she adored dogs, so it was a win win situation. She got paid for doing what she loved. She even had a plan for after junior arrived. It would take careful planning and execution, but by taking fewer dogs at a time and using the awesome stroller she had researched and then purchased, it was going to be great. In the meantime, Molly was bored, bored, bored!
A loud rumble interrupted her internal diatribe. She turned back towards the street to see a large, black beauty glide by. It turned in the driveway of Margaret Meecher's home, which was just one house down from Molly's own home. Backing up a little, she continued to watch. Margaret had a feisty little poodle named, Mr. Fluffernutter, which was one of the dogs she walked. It always cracked Molly up when she had to call out his name. He was a corker. Molly ignored the little voice that was whispering that she was being nosey, after all Margaret was out of town, so something might be going on that Molly needed to be aware of. She was not a creeper, Molly argued with herself, she was a responsible citizen.
The engine shut off and the driver's door opened with a creak, as a very tall guy levered himself out of the car, shutting the door gently. He stretched both arms above his head and a bare strip of tanned back was revealed, Molly, of course payed no attention to the lovely bareness of it. She was pregnant, not dead, of course she stared as long as it was on display. He lowered his arms and Molly did not frown in disappointment when the jacket slid back into place. Taking a side step around the overgrown bush, she was not hiding behind, she edged closer to get a better view. The young man hurried around to the passenger side as the door was pushed open.
"Dean, you're supposed to take it easy." He admonished in a deep voice, as he proceeded to manhandle the other person out of the car.
Then she heard an even deeper voice answer, "Sam, I can get out of the car by myself. Get off." the voice trailed off into a coughing fit. The tall guy ignored the complaint and continued with what he was doing until he had the other guy, almost as tall as himself, out of the car and mostly upright. Wrapping a long arm around the still wheezing one, he bumped the door shut with his hip and then they made their way slowly to the house. Molly stepped forward unconsciously drawn to the pair. A bird startled out of the bush, causing Molly to squeak and the tall one to look back over his shoulder. He seemed to hold her frozen gaze for a moment before turning back and making their way inside the house. Molly took a deep breath, feeling a little shaky and made her own way into her home.
For the next week Molly caught sight of the taller one leaving the house in the noisy black beast of a car and coming back a short time later with a plastic bag bearing the logo of the nearby convenience store. He looked more weary as the week went on and Molly was worrying about what in the world those two were eating if they were getting supplies from a convenience store. It was really none of her business but Molly desperately needed something to occupy her time. She had come to the conclusion that being stuck at home was awful. She had finished the nursery in her first trimester, never mind that her husband had told her it might be better to wait until the last month. If she had listened to him, she would have a fun project to piddle with instead of slowly going insane, but she was not admitting that he was right, she didn't need to get that business started. She also discovered that daytime television sucked and oh yeah, it sucked.
So, on the following monday after a trying weekend, Molly found herself standing near the kitchen window watching for the return of one of her new neighbors. She had found out that they were friends of Margaret's sister and were housesitting. Molly didn't feel guilty at all about digging up that information, after all, it was everyone's job to keep the neighborhood safe. Wasn't it?
The deep, rumbling heralded the tall one's return. Molly noticed that he seemed more worn out today. His shoulders drooped and he was walking slower than usual. Molly came to a decision. Giving her ever expanding tummy a firm pat, she spoke softly. "Well, baby I think it's time to meet these two boys and the best way to meet new neighbors is with a casserole in your hands."
The rest of the morning was spent finding her Grandmother's lasagna recipe and then assembling the difficult but delicious dish. She even made two, so that her husband would have a reason to smile. She could admit she had been a tad bit hard to live with lately. Come on though, prisoners had the right to be cranky. She couldn't even burn off her frustration by lifting weights or much of anything. Anyway, she was used to being a busy sort of person and it was hard to be so idle. It was a good thing that her husband had a lot more patience than she did.
At 5 o'clock, the timer dinged and Molly carefully set her two bubbling lasagnas on top of the stove. Inhaling the tantalizing scent of sausage and spices made her mouth water. Yummy! After she put one of them into a carrier and sealed it up, she took a deep fortifying breath and armed with her welcome casserole set out to meet the neighbors.
Working to juggle the bulky carrier around to knock on the door, Molly was startled when the door was pulled opened suddenly. The tall one stood there, hair sticking up in wild little tufts and his outer shirt half off and hanging crookedly. He had a shadows under his eyes and a scruffy beard shadowing his lean cheeks. Molly closed her mouth from the surprised "O" she was making and took charge. This guy needed help. Pushing her way through the door, which was a tight squeeze considering how large he was and how large her belly was, something that was totally beside the point. She took in the darkened room and a huddled mound on one of Margaret's overstuffed sofas. The mound was covered with a fluffy, blue blanket and she could see the shivers from across the room. Ignoring the tall one's spluttering, Molly took the food into the kitchen, speaking as she went.
"I'm Molly, your neighbor and I brought you a lasagna. It's my grandmother's recipe and it is delicious. It's still hot, so you can eat it now, or put it in the refrigerator and heat it up later." She came back into the front room to find the tall one still standing by the open front door, looking rattled. Molly decided to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, by marching up to stand face to chest with the quiet guy. Offering a slim hand, she admonished. "I told you my name and it's only polite to share yours and the shivering lump's."
After a moments hesitation, her hand was engulfed by a large, calloused hand for a brief handshake. A tentative smile, lit his pale features and he answered in a soft voice. "I'm Sam and the lump is my brother Dean. He's supposed to be in bed, but he insists on the couch for part of the day."
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he moved slowly towards the couch his brother was ensconced on.
Molly smiled, speaking in a softer voice to match Sam's. "It's nice to meet you. What's the matter with your brother?"
"He has pneumonia. Should be in the hospital, but talked the doctor into heavy duty prescriptions and trying to get over it at home, or Margaret's home."
"So, you're housesitting? That's nice. Margaret is a sweetie."
Sam nodded politely, but Molly could tell he was concerned about his shivering sibling. She walked closer and asked, "Are you running a humidifier? Did the doctor suggest that?"
Sam frowned and shook his head.
"My dad had bronchitis a few times and our doctor always told Mom to run a cool mist humidifier. It helped. Maybe it would help your brother. I have one you guys can borrow."
A quiet moan, followed by a breath stealing cough disturbed the conversation. Sam leaned over, pulling back the blanket and helping his brother sit up. If she had thought Sam looked tired, well Dean took the shadows were so dark under his eyes, it looked like someone had blacked both of them in a fight. His face was also flushed and getting redder from all the harsh hacking. Molly quickly went to to kitchen and brought back a glass of water, offering it to Sam, who took it gratefully.
He helped his brother to sip it, after the worst of the coughing and wheezing had backed off.
"He sounds bad."
Sam grimaced and agreed. "Yeah, he does. Stubborn idiot."
While Sam was whispering to his seemingly out of it brother, Molly went back to the kitchen and found a clean dish cloth and wet it in cool water. After wringing it out, she went back and offered it as well.
"Thanks Molly." Sam said as he took it and gently laid it across Dean's forehead.
Molly suddenly felt like she was intruding and decided to make a quiet exit. "I'll leave you alone, but don't forget about the lasagna and I'll have my husband, Dan, bring that humidifier over later."
Sam met her eyes briefly with a half hearted smile and a soft, "Thank you Molly. It was really nice of you to bring us food."
Molly gave him a bright smile in return, shutting the door gently behind her.
Later that evening Dan took the humidifier over and dropped it off. Molly was disappointed with the lack of information when he returned. Apparently, Sam opened the door, Dan offered the humidifier, Sam took it, thanked him and Dan told him it was no problem to bring it back whenever, and then he came back home. Dan did not find the new neighbors as interesting as Molly, but then he could still go do his job everyday. Molly huffed and only relented when Dan gave her aching feet a good rub. Husbands were good for some things like foot rubs, but not gathering intel, Molly decided.
Molly was proud of her fortitude. She managed two days before she made a huge pot of her chicken noodle soup, her grandmother's recipe again because her Molly's grandmother was a rockin' cook. Ladling out a good sized portion into a crockery dish, she covered the remainder of it and left it on the stove. Dan was going to be happy again tonight.
When Molly knocked on the door this time, it was not opened quickly, in fact nothing happened. The car was in the driveway, so Molly knocked again, louder. She could hear faint noises this time and finally the door opened slowly. The sick brother, Dean, stood their, the same fluffy blanket wrapped around him and looking just as weary and ill as he had the last time she had seen him. He remained silent but gave her a pitiful little smile and a cocked eyebrow.
Molly was a little flustered, even obviously worn out with pneumonia, standing he was adorable and packed quite bit more of a punch than he did when he was laying on the sofa in a shivering heap. This of course, made Molly want to hug him and take care of him and maybe just stare at him for awhile.
He cleared his throat, which caused him to cough and then hunch over and sound like he was choking. This brought Molly out of her stupor. She pushed her way into the house, again, and set the soup down on the entry table, before placing an arm around his broad, trembling back and leading him over to the couch. After getting him seated, she went to the kitchen and brought back a glass of water, just like last time. She seemed to repeating things today.
He was wheezing noisily, but no longer coughing when she returned offering the drink. He took it with a grateful smile and sipped at it carefully.
"So, where's your brother?"
"He's so tired from taking care of me, I made him take a nap." Dean answered with a smirk. "Surprised he didn't wake up when you knocked on the door, but he really hasn't been sleeping enough ..." His voice trailed off as he turned to look down the hall where the bedrooms were located, as if Sam might come walking down the hall at any time.
Molly regarded the shivering man for a moment and then decided to take the soup to the kitchen. "Well, that's good that he's resting, but someone needs to take care of you."
"Naw. 'm fine." He denied.
"Sure." Molly said with disbelieving smile. "Anyway, I brought chicken noodle soup. My grandma's recipe. It's supposed to cure anything." She continued speaking as she went, then paused asking. "Would you like a bowl of it?"
Dean met her enquiring gaze and gave a small negative shake of his head.
"Are you sure? It might help with that nasty congestion you've got going on." She wheedled.
He sighed, which turned into another cough and with a self depreciating smile, he acquiesced. "Mmkay."
Smiling brightly in victory Molly, agreed, "Okay."
Molly watched as he lifted a slightly, shaking spoon brimming with chicken and noodles to his chapped lips.
His eyes closed in bliss as he savored the first taste. "This is really good." Dean grinned as he dipped his spoon for another taste. "Really good. Thank you." He added, meeting Molly's gaze.
Molly sat quietly on the side chair, careful not to lean too far back in it so that she would be able to get herself back up when she needed to. She didn't think Dean would be much help if she got over balanced with her big tummy. She had been feeling like a turtle a lot lately, well like a turtle on its back, unable to get up by itself. The only sounds in the room were the the clink of Dean's spoon as he dipped it in his bowl, occasional slurping sounds and wet sniffs. Before he was even half finished with the soup, his eyes had begun to droop and Molly decided to take his bowl before he nodded off and spilled it on himself. He gave her a sort of loopy smile and then sort of crumpled sideways onto the sofa, curling into a ball with his blanket.
Molly harrumphed and set about straightening his blanket out and getting him to shift into a more comfortable looking position. Laying a cool hand on his forehead, Molly gauged the sick man's temperature. He was very warm and probably needed to get some acetaminophen in him. She felt him lean into her touch, moaning softly. Smiling in sympathy, Molly carded her hand gently through his rumpled hair. Grumbling and coughing Dean buried his head in the covers and finally settled. Molly tucked the covers a little more firmly around him and then carried the dishes back to the kitchen.
Molly was seated, one of Margaret's back issues of 'Dog Fancy' on her lap and a cup of herbal tea in her hand. Dean was napping on the sofa dosed with acetaminophen, his prescription cough syrup, a hit of his inhaler, and the humidifier puffing away, when Sam stumbled into the room wild eyed and even wilder haired. His clothes were rumpled and he was missing a sock. He stopped and stared at the merry little scene before him. Molly smiled serenely, taking a sip of her warm tea. She put the magazine on the side table and stood up slowly, worried that she might startle the poor boy. Sam just stood, mouth agape and still not a hint sound escaped him.
"Would you like some chicken noodle soup? Dean said you needed to sleep, we tried not to disturb you. Also, I fed him some soup and gave him his medicine, well not the antibiotic, he said he didn't need that until later..."
Sam made a funny spluttering sound, interrupting her rambling explanation, and tripped his way over to his brother, giving Molly a wide berth as he went.
Molly serenely finished off her tea and debated on having a second cup while she waited patiently for Sam to get his bearings. Finally, after checking his brother thoroughly, eliciting a few rough moans and muttered words, Sam seemed satisfied that Dean had not been harmed by his absence or Molly's care of him and he slumped down in the chair next to the sofa. He ran both hands through his hair, causing it to stick up in even wilder disarray, if that was possible.
"So, soup?" Molly reiterated.
Sam raised his head and stared at Molly for a moment, then smiled and nodded.
Molly nodded back and did not waddle to the kitchen to get him a bowl of soup. She was just putting an extra sway to her step, adding some sexy to her swagger. Oh who was she kidding? She had turned into a duck, and a slow one at that. At least she had these two poor boys to keep her occupied for a little while. Who would've thought these brothers could be more distracting than the dogs she used to walk. They certainly were prettier to look at, Molly admitted to herself with a guilty giggle as she heated the soup. It was funny how life sometimes worked that way, they totally needed her and well, she needed a distraction, so "yay!", for fate ,or kismet, or whatever. Sometimes 'the powers that be' got things right.
~The End. Thank you for reading and reviewing, if you care to.