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justinedelargeAuthor: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest (Sam is a few months shy of legal age)
Word Count: 2200
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just for fun.
Summary: Ever wonder how Dean started talking dirty? The genesis is in the way Sam and Dean make their feelings for each other physical. This story has dirty talk, all the feels you can handle, infinite love and even a plot that develops into a nail-biting narrative, with the best kind of hurt/comfort.
Chapter Summary: They get Sam to a doctor, and learn the extent of his injuries. Dean takes care of Sam.
You can read the story from the beginning, in its entirety so far, here:
http://archiveofourown.org/works/411362
Chapter 13: Watch You While You Sleep
Dean held Sam’s head up, gingerly brought the bottle of water to his lips. Sam drank gratefully, taking a few sips, then letting his head fall back in exhaustion and pain.
“You rest.” Dean wanted to wipe the blood from Sam’s face, but didn’t want to hurt him, and he knew the lightest touch would sting. Instead, he just lay next to him, their bodies rocking gently with the motion of the truck on the highway,
“S’alright now, Sammy. I’m here. Gonna take care of you. I promise. Gonna fix you up.” Sam murmured, blinking up at Dean. “Shhh. Close your eyes.”
Sam let his open eyelid fall closed.
“They’re all dead. We killed every last one of them.”
Sam breathed out a soft chuff. His eye opened again, and he looked at Dean with concern. He plucked at Dean’s shirt, kitten-soft.
“I’m fine.” Dean squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the tears back. Here was Sam, beat to hell, only caring if Dean was ok. “Dad’s got a busted nose. Bobby’s fine. The others have bruised egos, but I think they’re mostly ok.”
Dean settled in next to Sam, his head resting on the pillow. He listened to Sam breathe, shallow gasps that made his own ribs ache to hear it, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. So he talked to him.
“They tape-recorded it. Breaking in. Grabbing you up. And left us the tape.” Sam’s eye flew open again. “You put up a hell of a fight, Sam. Three big men on one, and you were winning. That throat punch? Nice move.” Sam’s mouth twitched in a little smile. “Took four men to take you down. I tell you, I was fucking impressed.” Dean petted Sam’s hair, trying not to look at Sam’s swollen eye, the horrible bruises on his face, the swelling of his left forearm, the deep abrasions on his wrists…
“When we found out you were gone… that they took you… Sam. I went crazy.” He took a deep breath. “Should never have left you alone. It’s my fault this happened.” Sam shook his head, trying to form words of protest in his damaged throat, but Dean shushed him in a gentle voice. “Shhh. It’s true. And I’m so sorry, Sam.” He looked at his brother’s battered face, still so beautiful, and the tears came, hot and stinging. “I’m sorry.”
~
Dean would not allow John to help get Sam out of the truck, or to carry him. In fact, he wouldn’t let John get near Sam.
John stood in total confusion. Bobby thumped him on the back. “Hang back. Dean’s got this.”
And Dean absolutely did. He settled Sam on the gurney, stayed right at his side, talked to the doctor. He refused to leave when the doctor went to examine him.
The doctor gave John and Bobby a quizzical look. Bobby snorted. “Oh, you best not try and get between those two. Dean won’t get in your way, though. Just don’t try and send him away.”
Dean shot Bobby a look of surprised gratitude.
~
The doctor brought Sam into an examination room. Dean followed, leaving John and Bobby in the hall.
Sam strained to take a breath. Raised his index finger and tapped it on the back of Dean’s hand. “Dean. Hurts.” His voice was almost entirely shot, and his one open eye pleaded with Dean.
“Doc. Help him.” Dean couldn’t bear to see Sam in normal pain. And this was nothing like normal pain.
“I really should do a preliminary examination before I administer a pain killer, because—“
Dean cut him off. “Help him.” Again, Dean’s voice dropped lower, hit a certain timbre that commanded respect, instinctively, easily.
The doctor injected a shot of Dilaudid into Sam’s vein, and within moments, Sam’s agony was eased, and he was breathing easier and more deeply.
Dean stood at Sam’s side as the doctor cut away Sam’s jeans and boxers, and examined him. ‘S’alright, Sam. We’re gonna get you all patched up.”
The doctor did a brief examination. “I don’t feel any clear fractures, but I’d like to get a chest x-ray to be sure. His ribs are almost certainly cracked.”
He continued, palpating and checking Sam. “He’s extremely dehydrated. I’ll get him started on a saline drip. He suffered extensive soft tissue damage and abrasions on his upper body. His jaw is badly bruised, and several of his teeth are loose. His nose does not appear to be broken. He got lucky with the eye. It doesn’t look like he sustained any real damage. His abdomen is normal, and I don’t feel any signs of internal bleeding. Has he thrown up?”
Dean shook his head no.
“That’s a good sign.” The doctor manipulated Sam’s fingers and wrists. “Nothing broken here. Bad lacerations on the wrists. And the left arm is clearly broken. Collarbone looks good.”
Most of the physical signs of trauma were located on Sam’s torso, but Dean know that half the torture consisted of demon-blood powers that left no mark. So the fact that his lower body appeared relatively untouched meant nothing. Which reminded him to ask something.
“Can you tell… if he was… um…”
“Sexually assaulted? Yes.”
Dean went white.
“Yes, as in I can tell if that happened or not. Not yes, as in he was assaulted.”
The doctor turned to Sam. “I need to examine your genitals to make sure the people that had you didn’t cause you any kind of damage there. Is that alright?” Sam nodded yes. The doctor examined Sam quickly but thoroughly. “Dean, would you help me turn him onto his side, please?”
Dean did, and stood facing Sam as the doctor moved behind him with a small flashlight. “I need to examine your rectal area now. Is that alright?” Sam nodded, burying his face in his forearm.
Dean kneeled so his face was at the same level as Sam’s. “So, when we get home, what do you want for dinner?”
Sam peered at Dean, who smiled at him, determined to distract him from what was happening. “Bet I can get Bobby to barbeque.”
Sam croaked, “November.”
Dean grinned. “Charcoal still burns in November. You want barbeque?”
Sam started thinking about it. “Turkey,” he finally whispered.
“Thanksgiving dinner?” Dean had forgotten. With everything else, he had actually forgotten that Thanksgiving was just a week away. “With pumpkin pie? Or pecan?”
Sam took a shallow, painful breath and said, “Yes.” And his grin, mischievous and adorable, was pure Sam.
The doctor finished the rectal exam and peeled off his gloves. “No rectal tears or swelling, no trace of semen. He’s intact.”
Dean breathed a huge sigh of relief.
The doctor examined his spine, and didn’t see anything that concerned him.
They lowered Sam onto his back and covered him with a blanket. They wheeled him into the x-ray room, where the doctor did insist on sending Dean outside until the x-rays were complete.
Then he brought them into a large empty room and Dean helped move Sam onto a bed, and help Sam into a medical gown. The doctor inserted an IV and got Sam started on the saline drip.
He brought the developed x-rays into the room and stuck them onto the light box. John and Bobby were brought in the room.
“Sam’s left ulna is broken. His ribs are badly bruised and right here on the left, you can see that three of them are cracked. You’re going to have to watch him very carefully to make sure he doesn’t develop pneumonia. You’ll need to keep his pain down as much as possible so he can breathe properly so that doesn’t happen.
He turned to Sam and Dean. “Sam, you’re going to need to take a deep breath, as deep as you can possibly manage, three to five times an hour. It’s extremely important to keep your lungs expanded to full capacity. Otherwise, you could get very, very sick.”
The doctor glanced at John. “He’s young and strong, so I expect it won’t take him long to heal up. But I want him on a fairly serious dose of narcotics for the next three or four days, so he can breathe deep and keep his lungs fully inflated. And I want him up and walking around every day, to keep the blood moving so he doesn’t throw a blood clot. But someone’s going to have to hold him up and walk with him, because he’s extremely weak and he’s going to be pretty high, with what I’m going to give you.”
He continued. “He’s bruised all over his upper body, but there is no internal bleeding or damage.” The doctor pulled the x-rays down from the light box, and motioned to the three to join him at the door, out of Sam’s earshot. “They worked him over really bad, John. That’s clear just from the physical indications. And I know that some of the torture was supernatural in nature, and we don’t have any physical signs of what happened there. But what he must have endured, John…” The doctor took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “ I estimate it was fairly severe, because his vocal chords are strained from screaming.”
Dean had to turn away.
“He needs to not try to talk for a few days. At all. I want him gargling with warm salt water, and drinking warm tea with honey. The usual.”
The doctor set Sam’s arm and put a cast on it, tended to Sam’s eye, cleaned and bandaged his cuts, and carefully treated and wrapped the deep abrasions on his wrists. By the end, Sam was starting to moan and sweat again, and the doctor gave him another shot for the pain. They agreed to keep Sam overnight for observation, and make their way home the next day, with a pack full of medical supplies and a long list of instructions.
They didn’t even bother trying to get Dean to come to the motel with them. The doctor simply wheeled in another bed and set it up right next to Sam’s.
The doctor gave them his pager number, and left them alone.
John kissed the top of Sam’s head. “I love you, Sam.” Sam, high from the pain meds, gave a huge goofy grin and slurred, “Shuh. Took enough to get you to say it.”
Bobby laughed at John’s obvious discomfiture. “You had that coming.” He stroked Sam’s hair, leaned in, whispered, “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”
They left Sam and Dean alone for the night.
Dean kicked his shoes off and sat cross-legged in bed, spoon-feeding Sam vanilla pudding. He refrained from making “Here comes the airplane” jokes, which took considerable effort on his part.
Even with the Dilaudid making him silly and loopy, Sam was still clearly in pain. But he opened his mouth and let Dean slip the spoon into his mouth, swallowing dutifully, until the pudding container was scraped clean.
“Awesome, Sam. Good job.”
He turned off the overhead light and settled in next to Sam, his hand resting gently on his chest. He wanted to touch him, take the pain away, but there was nothing he could do.
So Dean talked to him, sweet and soft, touching him with his voice, letting his words drift over him like his fingers could not, stroking and soothing Sam.
“It’s always been you, Sam. I can’t even remember when I knew. You know, that we were more than.” As deep as brother bond could be, Dean had always known it went way beyond that, even when he refused to admit it. And that’s how he thought of it. More than. “And when I found out it was the same for you… Christ, Sam. I couldn’t even… I mean, I was scared. So scared. But it felt like how Christmas is supposed to feel like.”
Sam made a soft, happy sound.
He closed his eyes, remembering the moment Sam smiled at him in just this funny little way that told him, that moment when he knew, unequivocally knew, that Sam also felt they were more than. Inside his chest, it felt like he’d come home from a long, bitter cold trek in the snow to a home full of warmth from the fire, an apple pie in the oven, roast turkey just pulled out, gleaming with butter, being handed a mug of steaming cider, a stack of presents under the tree…
“And when they took you, and you were gone, and I thought… I thought maybe I wasn’t going to get you back, and I remembered what I did. What I said to you…the way I left it…” And Dean couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. He was a warrior, a soldier, a world-class bad ass, but he was also a scared young man, so desperately in love he could barely breathe.
And the scared young man started to cry.
“Dean.” Sam’s voice was raspy and weak. Dean tried once more to regain composure, but failed utterly, dropping his head onto the pillow with a sob, hand fluttering Sam’s chest, wanting so badly to hold him, absolutely unwilling to hurt him even a little bit.
Sam pressed Dean’s hand down over his heart. That simple gesture was too much, and Dean cried into the pillow.
With great effort, and completely against doctor’s orders, Sam forced out three more words. “Always. Been yours.”
Dean cried until he was dry, his hand over Sam’s heart, and Sam drifted into a deep sleep.
Dean lay by his side and kept guard all night, watching him while he slept.
On to Chapter 14:
http://justinedelarge.livejournal.com/20183.html
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-10-16 06:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-16 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-16 11:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-16 02:30 pm (UTC)John, I just wanna smack him upside the head. LOL.
Does Bobby know a bit more about the boys than what he's letting on?
Thanks...
Date: 2012-10-20 05:17 am (UTC)And as far as the last thing you wrote? Thanks for catching the subtle hints I snuck in there. :)
Amazing!
Date: 2012-10-16 02:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-16 11:48 pm (UTC)My plan
Date: 2012-10-17 01:15 am (UTC)There's more. But I'm going to slow down the pace a little now.
Thank you for noticing that I did that.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-17 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-17 09:35 am (UTC)Thank you!
Date: 2012-10-17 09:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 07:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-29 08:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-05 06:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-05 07:30 pm (UTC)So yeah, there's a lot of crying in this fic as you go forward. But they have such intense situations happening and such powerful emotions. If they didn't cry, it would be weird.
no subject
Date: 2013-08-05 07:59 pm (UTC)I actually like when they lay their emotions bare and show vulnerability with each other. It makes my heart twitch and I think that the boys are stronger for it in the end. Just my take anyway. They are human after all and they feel things deeply (even in canon).
no subject
Date: 2013-10-15 12:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-06 10:35 pm (UTC)I think I probably love you : ) x