If you're like me, that opening scene left you wanting a bit more. Hopefully this helps, though somehow brotherly cuddling didn't make it into the fic (sorry!). I know that was an easy place to go, but Dean's urgency took over instead. My Muse writes what she feels. *shrugs*
Title: Don't Feed The Flames
Word Count: 1,445
Summary: Sam wakes up and Dean wants to get out of town.
Warnings: Spoilers for the opening of 6x14, protective-worried Dean, Limp!Sam.
Disclaimer: Eric Kripke still owns Sam & Dean. Dammit.
Notes: Thanks to wynefred & her siblings on the info. about the food truck. ;)
Episode quotes are from Season 6's "Caged Heat", "Like A Virgin", and "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning".
Btw, I don't have a beta and any mistakes are purely my own.
Dean rushed over towards his brother as soon as he heard the thump of Sam's body hitting the grungy wooden floor. "Sammy?" His concern ratcheted up 5 levels once he saw his brother in the throes of a seizure, writhing like he had during his demon blood withdrawl. "Sammy!" He was there at his side in a second, but Dean didn't know what to do. No, no, no! "Sammy! Talk to me!" Grabbing at Sam's shirt and jacket, all Dean could do was hold on as his brother suddenly went still, his eyes open in a blank stare before closing.
No, Sammy. Don't do this. The seizure was over, but Sam wasn't stirring, no matter how much Dean called out or shook him.
"Sam?" Dean's voice quivered. This was his worst nightmare come true. This is what Castiel had warned him about.
"Sam's soul has been locked in the cage with Michael and Lucifer for more than a year. And they have nothing to do but take their frustrations out on him. Do you understand? If we try to force that mutilated thing down Sam's gullet, we have no idea what will happen. It could be catastrophic."
"You mean he dies."
"I mean he doesn't. Paralysis. Insanity. Psychic pain so profound that he's locked inside himself for the rest of his life."
No, this can't happen. Dammit Sam, I told you not to scratch at that wall. Why do you have to keep pushing all the time?
"Sam....S-S-Sam!" Another tug at his shirt, but nothing. Dean looked up, disbelief and panic running through him. Putting his hands on Sam's throat and forehead, he felt for a pulse. He can't be dead, he can't. A pulse was there, but it was weak and Sam wasn't breathing. No, no, Sammy...please!
"Sammy!!!" Dean's desperation rose with each passing second. Again, Castiel's words floated through his mind.
"Let me tell you what his soul felt like when I touched it. Like it had been skinned alive, Dean. If you wanted to kill your brother, you should have done it outright."
But he couldn't have. There had never been any question in Dean's mind, not even as he watched Death shove Sam's damaged soul back inside and his brother screamed in agony. Dean couldn't live with the un-Sam-like brother he had gotten back, no more than he could live with his brother's soul still locked in Lucifer's cage.
"C'mon, c'mon..." Dean's voice came out in a whisper, begging, pleading. He looked over Sam's body quickly, hoping for some response, some movement. Then the anger came out. "C'mon dammit!" You can't leave me now, not when I just got you back.
Suddenly, Sam's eyes opened and he took in a long, deep breath of air into his deprived lungs and Dean felt his heart racing. Thank God.
"Hey, hey, hey. You with me?" Sam looked around, bewildered, but his eyes soon found Dean's. He simply nodded his head in response, still trying to catch his breath. God, he looks scared. What the hell happened Sammy? All Dean wanted to do now was get his brother out of this damned town.
"C'mon. C'mon. Lemme get you the hell out of here." He grabbed a tight hold of Sam's shirt again and hoisted his brother up and into a sitting position on the bed.
Dean was a flurry of activity. Five more minutes was too long to stay in this place, the place that had awakened too many memories for Sam. Even while packing, Dean kept one eye on his brother, who sat on the bed, quiet, with his head in his hands. Well, at least he's breathing again. Dean finished packing their bags and grabbed Sam by the arm, carefully, but swiftly leading his brother out to the car. Sam was still a little wobbly, but Dean figured he could recover in the car, on the way out of Dodge.
Once behind the wheel, Dean gunned the engine, not caring which direction they headed as long as it lead outside the city limits. He'd feel better once they were a town or two away.
After a mile or two, Dean took a good look over at his brother. Sam was leaning up against the passenger side door, which was normal for him, except that his elbow was on the door with his right hand covering his eyes.
"Hey, you okay? Talk to me, man."
Sam groaned a little before replying, his voice quiet and more than a little pained.
"Yeah, just kinda dizzy."
Sam rubbed at his eyes, not trusting to be able to look out the window without getting nauseous. He felt confused & a little light-headed. One second he'd been talking to Dean and the next he was... No, don't go there. He shut down his mind even though he could remember the fire. Suddenly afraid of a repeat visit to the inferno, Sam concentrated on the sound of the Impala's engine. Dean's really driving fast, even for him. If he kept his eyes closed, the dizziness seemed to ease, so Sam tried to relax.
"Dean? I know I collapsed, but what happened? How long was I out?"
"You don't remember?"
He could hear Dean's huff over the engine and Sam stayed silent, hoping his brother would take the hint and fill in some of the details.
"You had a seizure or somethin'. You were out a few minutes. Felt longer though."
Sam nodded his head a little, even though he doubted his brother noticed, but then again, Dean always noticed things about him. The ever-watchful big brother. It used to bother Sam, but at times like this he relished his brother's protective concern and he could hear it in his voice even without looking at him. I really spooked him. Gotta stop doing that. He's been through enough. I need to let him know I'm okay.
"I'm a little woozy, but it's getting better."
Dean spared another glance at Sam.
"You're gonna be okay, Sammy. Just rest. We get past a few more towns and I'll find us a place to stop and get some food."
Sam just grunted in response. Pain was building in his head. Figures. Mental trip back downstairs has to come with a heavy price tag on the brain cells. He tried to sleep, but couldn't. He was too keyed up, and honestly, too afraid he'd end up back there, in the fire. How soon before the nightmares begin? He leaned his head against the cool window, hoping it would help keep the memory of the flames away. Nothing seemed to be happening, so Sam figured he was safe for now. Maybe that's it. One time deal. No. When is it ever that easy?
Outside of himself, Sam was equally concerned about his brother. Dean had been scared, really scared. Sam had seen that in the wild look of his brother's eyes as he'd dragged him from the abandoned house they'd been staying in. But even now he could sense his brother calming down. Sam felt the car slow a little, heard his brother breathing a little easier. Sam swallowed and took a deep breath. Food was starting to sound like a good idea, maybe some coffee to help clear his head which was now starting to pound like the bumps on the asphalt road they were traveling.
Half an hour went by and Dean found a place to pull off for some coffee. Sam finally opened his eyes with the stopping of the car to see where they were. It was a little lunch truck by a playground. Sam gingerly got out of the car, the bright overcast sky not helping the huge headache he was harboring.
Dean was already out of the car and rummaging through the trunk. Where did I put those pills? He found them hidden in a corner of the first aid kit with the other good stuff. They weren't your over the counter remedy, but Dean had a feeling Sam needed the industrial strength pain relievers right now. He tucked the bottle into his pocket and headed over to the truck, ordering some donuts and coffee. He happened to see that morning's local paper on the counter and took a look at the front page. A janitor was murdered in a locked up college lab. Well that's something.
Once he checked out if Sam was okay they'd need a new job to move on to. First order of business was making sure Sam understood how bad it was to go digging into the past year and a half. Maybe this incident would help finally convince his brother that poking at that delicate wall was an epically bad idea.
Comments, please! My Crazy Muse loves cookies. :)