Dean Winchester

#01 - Drunk	#02 - Judge	#03 - Envy	#04 - Jeans	#05 - Meaningful
#06 - Breathless	#07 - Feelings	#08 - Struggle	#09 - Confident	#10 - Walk
#11 - Think	#12 - Never	#13 - Baggage	#14 - Blue	#15 - Death
#16 - Numb	#17 - Obvious	#18 - Priority	#19 - Worry	#20 - Together
#21 - Blood	#22 - Yawn	#23 - Without	#24 - Innocent	#25 - Apology

01. Drunk
So it wasn’t his smoothest of entrances, but it was certainly one to remember.

02. Judge
He figured he’d earned the right to judge his little brother for his stupid decisions considering he was the expert on them.

03. Envy
There was a part of him that did envy the guys with their suburban lifestyles and devoted wives, but it was never going to be something that he could pull off.

04. Jeans
It was a miracle they’d held out this long, but sooner or later he was always going to get them ripped up in a fight.

05. Meaningful
He’d said it to every woman he’d ever been with, and somewhere along the way he’d started believing his own bullshit.

06. Breathless
Why did there have to be stairs?

07. Feelings
He’d spent his whole life hiding from them, but seeing Sam without them cut him deeper than he’d ever be able to put into words.

08. Struggle
Pulling the gun hadn’t exactly been the greatest idea in the world, but at least it had put a stop to the endless slap fight he’d seemed to have got himself trapped in.

09. Confident
It was a survival tactic that turned into second nature.

10. Walk
I don’t know about anyone else, but you can definitely tell by my walk that I’m a woman’s man.

11. Think
He’d never had to consider his actions so carefully before, or be so aware of the consequences and it was doing his head in.

12. Never
He was drunk by the sixth question in ‘I never…’

13. Baggage
What sane person genuinely wanted to put up with his?

14. Blue
Her blue sweater was the only thing he could remember at first before the slap to the face after calling her the wrong name the next morning became the second thing.

15. Death
He was thinking he’d start getting a tattoo for every time he died so that way there’d at least be some evidence that he wasn’t just stuck in someone’s sick idea of a real life Groundhog Day.

16. Numb
Drinking wasn’t healthy, but it sure as shit made him numb to the painful memories of what he’d done.

17. Obvious
He never had done subtle too well.

18. Priority
Dean knew exactly what his priorities were and God wasn’t around to help anyone that got in his way.

19. Worry
“Jesus Christ, I think I just saw a gray pubic hair.”

20. Together
As fucked up as it was, he wanted to go back to the days when their father was missing and he and Sam were actually making some progress as brothers instead of losing ground.

21. Blood
He saw too much of it day in and day out to ever develop a kink for it.

22. Yawn
As much as he wanted to be listening to Sam’s latest explanation, he couldn’t hold back the yawn that gave away how bored he was by all the big words.

23. Without
There were a lot of things he could do without, but at the end of the day he was never going to be able to live without his brother even if he was a bitch.

24. Innocent
“Hey, this time I genuinely didn’t do it, so just stop giving me that goddamn look!”

25. Apology
Yeah, well, keep holding your breath for that one, okay?

@ musebyrp

getinlinebitch — Sat, 02 Apr 2011 01:19:43 GMT

You know what? All I want is a phone makes freaking calls. I didn't actually think that was asking too damn much, but apparently it is.

getinlinebitch — Mon, 21 Mar 2011 22:14:32 GMT

Of course I'm full of mucus.

musebyrp

getinlinebitch — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 22:08:44 GMT

No ~~hunting~~ TV and no ~~chicks~~ beer makes Dean something, something.

musebysentence | 96.6 Sappy

getinlinebitch — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 22:02:32 GMT

There was no way he was owning up to Sam's puppy dog face ever working on him.

musebysentence | 93.22 Virtuous

getinlinebitch — Fri, 18 Feb 2011 22:33:09 GMT

I'm sure there was a time there when I was a baby where I was the picture of all things pure and sweet.

sixwordstories

getinlinebitch — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 00:56:40 GMT

Some "damsels" need to shut up.

musebysentence | 81.1 Thrill is Gone

getinlinebitch — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 09:46:01 GMT

Dean didn't know about Sam, but looking at the want ads was making him go cross-eyed and as flipped to the funny pages he silently prayed for some man-eating demon rabbit to come crashing through the walls of the apartment.

musebysentence | 77.6 Indulge

getinlinebitch — Fri, 14 May 2010 12:31:10 GMT

He could learn to love sharing a bed with Jo when falling asleep while spooning her lead to awesome morning sex.

OOC | A Word From the Sponsor

getinlinebitch — Fri, 14 May 2010 11:01:46 GMT

Season 5 is pretty much dead to me.

This Dean will never acknowledge anything in it past maybe some references to a couple eps that reveal some more of Dean's likes - like his addiction to a certain soap opera.

And I cannot stress how much this Dean will have nothing to do with the finale, acknowledging anything that happened in it, or acknowledging anyone in it.

musebysentence | 76.3 From This Moment

getinlinebitch — Wed, 05 May 2010 03:44:55 GMT

As Dean sat outside the apartment building in the Impala, he realised that in his effort to protect his little brother and keep him alive, the best chance he had was to give them a normal life.

musebysentence | 73.9 Men Behaving Badly

getinlinebitch — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 05:01:09 GMT

I'm getting too old for hangovers.

SWS

getinlinebitch — Sun, 04 Apr 2010 04:13:57 GMT

We came, we hunted, I scored.

musebysentence | 68.1 Voyeurism

getinlinebitch — Sat, 20 Mar 2010 08:42:32 GMT

Ain't a damn thing wrong watching a lady pleasurin' herself, I just always prefer to step in with a helpin' hand, or tongue.

[NSFW] just_fck_me | 3.10 Aerosmith lyrics

getinlinebitch — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 07:57:32 GMT

3.10. Love in an Elevator - Aerosmith
Love in an elevator
Livin' it up when I'm goin down
Love in an elevator
Lovin' it up till I hit the ground

Co-written with shootslikeagirl
[Follows THIS

It was a bad day. Jo hated when he had them. It was more than hard for her to watch her younger brother in so much pain and still immobilised in traction, laid up in bed when he was the sort of person who could probably be driven crazy for not being able to move. Some days, she really worried that if he was stuck there too long, that might just happen. She tried to do what she could to make him feel better, and some days he was great. They had a laugh, watched bad action films together, reminisced about the past. Other days, though, like these ones, all she could do was sit and hold his hand until the doctor came and drugged him up on morphine so he could pass out and sleep through it. It left her nerves frayed and her patience withered. It wasn't uncommon for her to snap at some nursing staff in frustration. Simon had been a patient long enough for Jo to figure out those who cared and those who were just there for the pay packet. She was just thankful to have struck up a friendship with Ailbe, the Irish nurse who had bent over backwards for them when Simon was first admitted. Jo had never been the sort to have many girl pals, but Ailbe was like a breath of fresh air and they had become close over the long weeks she was there regularly to visit her brother. More than a handful of times Ailbe had been there with a hug and a shoulder to cry on when Jo just sometimes couldn't handle seeing her baby brother sobbing in agony.

But today, Jo was frayed again. Simon was asleep by the time she left, and after a night stuck at the station working on a particularly difficult profiling, the lack of sleep was catching up with her. She adjusted her bag over her shoulder as she veered into the corridor towards the elevators, making it just as the doors to the middle one started to slide closed. "HOLD THE DOOR!" she called out and started to bolt towards them. But the fucker inside was clearly an asshole of epic proportions and the doors swung closed just as she reached them. She didn't even think. With a string of curses, she took off for the stairwell, yanking the door open as she tore off down them. Being ex-SWAT, she had the agility on her side. She reached the elevators on the floor below just before the elevator in question stopped and the doors opened again. She was a little breathless, but with a small growl and a predatory glare, she slammed her hand against the door to hold it open and pointed to the guy inside with her other hand. "I said hold the fucking door!" she snapped.

Dean had tried to hold the door. He had held his finger down on the button, but the elevator hadn't wanted to cooperate. Now he was trapped inside with a crazy bitch, and what was probably about to be the most awkward ride of his life. He held his hands up as he cleared his throat, and slowly moved one of them so he could point at the evil button that was now going to be responsible for his testicles being removed. "I, ah... I did. Ma'am. Sir. I think the thing's busted. It only just managed to register that I'd pushed the button for the ground floor. I'm really sorry, sweetheart. I'm not actually lacking in manners completely."

He eyed her warily, still wondering if she was about to morph into some kind of monster. His expression changed slightly though, as he took in the curves of her body, and the fact that she really was fucking hot when she was pissed. His body gave a slight twitch of want, and he pressed his lips together as he tried to not become the prick that had not only let the doors close on her one level earlier, but also was perverted enough to be getting an erection after getting yelled at.

Jo was now overexerted, stressed, and pissed off. Not a dramatically great combination. Her blue eyes didn't leave his face as she stalked into the elevator to stand beside him, and they flashed slightly in annoyance as he tried to justify his assholeyness. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, only to whip one back out again and point accusingly at him. "You're a shit," she offered, pressing her lips together as the frown continued to mark her features. She pushed her blonde hair out of her face with a huff of annoyance and then pushed the ground floor button roughly as if that would make it work quicker. But it wasn't lost on her that he was cute. Shortish, but cute. She always did have a thing for guys a little lacking in the height department. It usually meant they had awesome bodies they really knew how to use. He looked like he had an awesome body under there, and he looked slightly familiar for some reason. But she wasn't going to think anything on that, putting it down instead to the fact she hadn't had a good fuck since... well, since the night before Simon's accident. Once news broke that her brother had nearly been killed, it had been all-encompassing on her as she tried to struggle with a job, her business, and making sure her only sibling wasn't about to check out on them. She was tired, and now she let her shoulders slump just slight as she ran a hand over her face and shot him a hint of an apologetic glance. "Sorry," she added grudgingly.

Dean shifted awkwardly, and tried to work out what to do with his own hands. Truth was he was having impure thoughts of pushing her up against the wall of the elevator. It would make her feel better, right? Take her mind of whatever it was on, and also let her get the good kind of angry. He rubbed the back of his neck as he hummed Metallica under his breath just to try and take his mind and dick off the subject of sex. "It's fine. I'd probably think I was a giant douchebag too if I knew me. So, um... M&M?" he asked as he pulled a bag of them from his pocket, and offered them to her.

Without even really thinking, Jo shoved her fingers into the packet and took some of the candy, dropping them into her mouth. She chewed them, looking up at the illuminating numbers before she swallowed, turning back to him. "Are you married?" she asked abruptly, eyes dropping to his hand to look for a ring, or at least a tanline indicating one may have been there recently. She flicked her hair back again, wondering if she should just cut the bastard off and be done with it. Short hair was in, right?

"Ah..." Dean hesitated, but only because he had never been asked that question before. Most chicks never really saw him as the married type, so now the blonde had caught him off guard. It was also really weird for him to be wanting a blonde so badly. It was always usually brunettes for him. He shook his head, eyes on her face like there was still a part of him scared to say the wrong thing. "No, no I'm not," he said as he cleared his throat again. Only got the one ring, and it definitely ain't a weddin' one. Are... are you married?"

Jo gave her head a small shake, still watching him. She was trying to work out if there was maybe regret of some sort in his answer, but there didn't seem to be. Maybe only awkwardness over being interrogated. "Gay?" she continued, raising an eyebrow. She did look at the ring, though. "Someone special give you that? Girlfriend in the hospital? Boyfriend?"

Dean smirked this time as he gave his shoulders a roll. "Lady, I am straight as an arrow. Not that there's anything wrong with the whole being gay thing. Just does not float my boat. And no, no girlfriend or boyfriend gave me the ring. Actually bought it myself. I am secure enough in my manhood to buy myself a ring. My brother's the one in the hospital. What about you? Gay, visiting a significant other? Angry nun?"

Secure in his manhood. Jo had sudden images of him with his hand down his pants affording a secure grip on himself. She puffed her cheeks out and let out a sharp breath. "Nope. Though, I did get hit on by a lesbian when I was nineteen," she offered and suddenly had him pressed up against the wall of the elevator in a hungry kiss. Fuck this stress, she needed relief. He wasn't married, he wasn't gay, he didn't have a girlfriend or a boyfriend. If he had a bit on the side, she could fucking wait her turn until Jo was finished. She wasn't scared of a bit of a bitch fight if the situation called for it.

Dean's brain had neatly filled in what had happened when the woman had been hit on by a lesbian when she was nineteen, and as much as he wanted the little film in his head to be true, he highly doubted there was a pillow fight involved. He had no chance to catch his breath before she had him pressed up against the wall, but Dean was not arguing. Why would he? A hot chick was shoving her tongue in his mouth, and she tasted like strawberries, and M&Ms. Dean's hand automatically made a grab for her ass, and he switched their positions so that she was the one pressed up against the wall as he brought her leg up over his hip and ground against her. He had no clue which floor they were passing, and he didn't really care. He'd hit the emergency stop button if he had to. His tongue fought against hers, and he already liked her. She wasn't going to submit easily, and he really didn't want her to. It was rare for him to find a woman with this much fire.

Jo hadn't realised she was this horny. For all she knew, the guy could be an escaped criminal with a dildo fetish, but she didn't really care. All she had a yearning for was a talented mouth buried between her boobs and a decent cock between her thighs. A good fuck really had to be better than trying to function on little sleep. This guy had it. Her hands were exploring through his shirt and she could feel the muscles. He was toned. He either worked out, or did something to keep him shape. Either way, he was her type. He could maybe refuel her love for wall sex, too. The last encounter had been abysmal, with the guy feeling more like he was trying to get her a pap smear than get her off. The dipshit wouldn't have known a clit if it grew teeth and bit him on the tip of the cock. She clawed at the front of the guys shirt and soon had it open, the buttons not managing to hold up against the force of her grip. Oh yes. This was exactly what she needed.

Dean blindly felt for the emergency button, remembering it was the big red one on the bottom near the wall he currently had the chick pressed up against. He would let all the staff outside their little lusty bubble figure out why it was stopped while he just figured out how the hell to get her top off when there weren't any buttons. He did the next best thing and wedged a knee between her legs as he held her in place, and used both his hands to push it up enough to expose her glorious cleavage. God, Dean loved breasts. He loved every part of a woman, but he especially loved breasts. His hands cupped the rounded flesh through the lacy fabric of her bra as he kissed her again, massaging them until he felt her nipples harden. He kept one hand on them, flicking his thumb against the nipple, his other one going to the fly on her jeans. Things always got interesting when they were both wearing denim, but Dean really did love a challenge. He slid his mouth down along the curve of her neck and nipped lightly before he lifted his head to meet her gaze. "I'm Dean, by the way. And you are seriously friggen hot, sweetheart." His fingers delved into her panties and he slid them between between her heated folds. "And wet..."

Jo had growled softly in frustration when she realised they were both in jeans. She didn't have time to really figure the dilemma out though before his fingers were inside her and veering deliciously close to her clit. Oh god, she just needed a guy to know how to work her and it could potentially keep her going for week. Man, he had nice fingers. Her head dropped back against the wall of the elevator, her mouth falling open with a gasp of pleasure as she forced her hips forward to invite more friction. "Joanne... Jo... less to remember when you're moaning my name with your cock buried between my thighs..." she panted. With some frantic fumbling, she got his jeans undone and shoved her hand into the restrictive demin. The fly scraped at her knuckles, but she didn't care. Her fingers closed tightly around his cock in a firm grip, taking just a moment to analyse what he was packing. Nice... very, very nice. Hard, thick... hopefully talented. "Fuck it. Take me from behind, just don't stop fucking touching my tits or I'll deck you."

"Jo..." Dean groaned the name as he thrust his hips forward against her touch. Fuck she really knew what she was doing, and it was driving him crazy. He was just grateful it wasn't the same Jo he had known once upon a time. She'd had this thing for Dean, but Dean just couldn't bring himself to reciprocate, and not just because he was scared of Ellen. She'd been tiny, breakable, and Dean didn't want a girl. He wanted a woman, not some wannabe Hunter Barbie. And he wanted a woman that told him to take her from behind. "I was just thinkin' the exact same thing," he growled as he stroked his fingers against her clit, slowly circling it as he dipped his head and used his other hand to tug down the edge of her bra to expose one of her perfect nipples so he could suck on it. Before he was going to turn her around, he was going to take a moment to enjoy more of her breasts first. He lifted his head with a grin, looking for all the world like he was a cat that really did just get the cream. He pulled his hand from her panties to lick at his fingers and openly moaned at just how good she tasted. He kissed at her throat, realising not all girls liked to get a taste of themselves on a guys lips as he tugged down her jeans and underwear, a hand running over the curve of her ass. "Back pocket," he murmured.

Jo gave a succinct nod, her hand going to his ass, which she squeeze firmly. Truth was, she wasn't just any girl and she couldn't forgo kissing a guy with a talented mouth in thanks, no matter whether she was going to taste herself or not. She roughly pulled his head up and captured his lips in a kiss, biting down on his lip and tugging it into her mouth so she could run her tongue along it. He had nice lips. She was suddenly glad she got caught up at the nurses' station before heading to the elevators, or she might have ended up sharing a ride with a grandpa with a combover or a granny who smelled like mothballs. She was eager for a fuck, but not that eager. At least, not then. Now she just wanted his dick buried in her. Just for emphasis, her hand gripped tighter around his erection, sweeping upwards as she pressed her thumb to the sensitive tip, making her wonder what it would be like in her mouth, against her tongue. She swallowed hungrily and fished the condom from his back pocket. He was prepared, she liked that. Some girls would think he was just a sleazeball, but you really did never know when you would need one. She tore the wrapper open with her teeth, and took charge of rolling the condom down his length, still wanting to explore his assets. If he could fuck well, it could almost be criminal how much of a well-rounded package he was.

Dean grinned at the way she tore the wrapper with her teeth, and how much she seemed to enjoy having her hands on his body. He really, really wasn't complaining at the attention. Most girls just tended to lie back and let him do the work, or there were the ones that were no doubt talented at fellatio, but they just seemed to go into autopilot. Nothing was customised to him, and his particular assets. They just went through the motions. Right now though, he really wouldn't have minded dropping down to his knees and going down on her. When she had the condom in place, Dean spread his fingers possessively over her stomach as he shifted back enough to turn her around, his other hand dropping to take himself in hand as he rubbed the tip of his cock teasingly between the cheeks of her ass before guiding it to her entrance. When he was in position he braced her against him as he thrust forward, burying himself on the first thrust. The latex might have been in the way, but he still knew she was hot, wet, and tight. He pulled down the cup of her bra even more, taking her breast in his hand as he rolled the nipple between his forefinger and thumb, and his mouth dropped kisses against the back of her neck as he started to move in and out of her, taking her hard and fast, his hip bone slamming against her ass. The hand on her stomach slid further down as his fingers brushed against her soft curls before he found her clit again, and rubbed them against it to maintain the assault on her senses.

Jo had an arm braced against the wall, holding her weight. Luckily, because her legs almost gave out when he entered her and she felt him buried deep inside her. She dropped her forehead onto her arm, arching her back to push back against him, meeting his thrusting to take him just a little deeper. "Jesus... fuck..." she swore through another gasp, the air leaving her in a rush around the words. This was giving her the luxury of just not thinking, not stressing, even for a few minutes. She had known it would be too much of a trial for her to go out to a bar and pull for a one night stand. Which meant, she would have contemplated it and then wrote it off as too much effort, wasting another night alone in bed, probably not even having enough energy to get herself off. This guy... Dean... he was there. He was single. He had the body. He could have pushed her off with the kiss, but he didn't and now she knew he more than had the cock, and if his hip actions were anything to go by, he had the moves. Those fucking hands. Her nipples were tingling, bordering on a hint of pain, they were so hard. Arousal pulsed through and she rocked back on each of his thrusts, reaching behind her to brush her palm over his hip to his ass, just seeking some sort of connection to show her appreciation. Not that her cursing and panting were enough, but she liked the give and take of a good fuck. She was never the sort to lie there and just go through the motions.

Dean scraped his teeth against the sensitive skin of her neck, letting out a groan as she touched him. He couldn't help it, he loved some reciprocation in a good fuck, even if she wasn't in much of a position to give it, but damn she was still in great position. He murmured all kinds of dirty little praises for her body against her ear as he continued to pound into her, and stroke her clit. He shifted his hand just a little, pinching the sensitive nub to send an explosion of pleasure. His fingers also continued to pluck at her nipples, taking turns to tease each one in between massaging her soft breasts. His breathing was coming out in heavy pants, and the truth was he knew he wasn't going to last as long as he wanted. It felt like an eternity since he'd been with a woman that felt this good, and the fact that she seemed just as into it was doing him in. Dean gritted his teeth though, determined to get her to come first. He was nothing if not a gentleman.

It had been too long for Jo, too. But not just that, she didn't really want to end up having SWAT on their ass because of the stopped elevator. They didn't need to be bothered on useless call-outs like that, especially when it was getting close to dinner break. Which made her realise she was hungry. Hungry and desperate for a fucking orgasm. She was already getting close, and she let her eyes fall closed while she aborbed all the feelings that were coming with being taken from behind by a hot bloke with a big, hard cock and cute ass. Fuck chocolate and fuck bubble baths and aromatherapy and all that ridiculous stress-relieving bullshit. Sex. Sex did it for her, and right now Dean was doing it for her. She wondered if he was the fruit basket sort, because she was going to need to thank him after this. Especially after bitching him out about the elevator. She was pressed right up against the wall now, and reaching the point of no return. She cursed softly and breathlessly, letting her nails sink deeply into his ass and with a moan of his name, she forced her hips forward against his fingers and came hard, a shudder wracking her body as stars burst behind her eyes.

As Dean felt her come, he helped her ride out the aftershocks, his fingers still rubbing against her clit. Her inner muscles clamping around his cock, and holding it deep inside was just too much though, and he came with a rough grunt of her name and an inability to stop from pinning her right up against the wall. He pulled his hand from between her thighs and looped it around her waist as he took her weight, holding her up as he swept her hair back from her face and nuzzled in against the crook of her neck as he took a moment just to stand there and catch his breath while feeling her still pulsing around him. "Is it safe to tell you now you're fuckin' beautiful when you're angry?" he murmured, carefully pulling out of her turning her around to kiss her on the mouth.

Jo gave him a small nudge, amused. "Seems so, because if you told me I looked like a friggen banshee, you would be getting a free up-close and personal view of your colon right now," she told him, raising an eyebrow at him. She tugged her knickers up, followed by getting the jeans back up over her hips. Her hair was a mess, falling into her face again, and again, she just pushed it out of the way. A quick glance in the strip of mirror beside the elevator buttons told her she had a sweep of a sex rash, too. Damnit. She had always been victim of that after a good orgasm. She straightened her leather jacket, tucking the collar up around her neck a little to hide it. "Sorry about your brother, but I can sympathise," she finally told him, clearing her throat. "I'm starving. Fancy getting a burger?"

Dean ran his fingers through her hair, helping to tame the long strands a little as his gaze flicked to the sex rash. He thought it was cute, and he really just wanted to spend the rest of his time nuzzling up against it. Instead he worked on getting the condom off, and putting a knot in it so nothing would spill. He tucked it in his jacket pocket for now as he re-buttoned his shirt and tucked himself back into his jeans. When he felt moderately presentable he pulled the emergency button back out so the elevator would start moving again. "I'm sorry if you can," he told her quietly with a soft smile. "Funnily enough, I need to go pick up a Happy Meal anyway, so sure." There was still finding the Impala, but that could wait for now. Dean was guilty of shifting his priorities just a little after an orgasm.

Jo pressed her lips together. She had an overwhelming urge to just spill her guts to him about everything that had gotten her riled up, but that would just ruin the mood. "Your brother a kid? I'm sorry, dude. I really am. Mine's only a few years younger than me, but you know... still my baby brother. Still get a sick ache in my gut when he hurts and I can't fix it." She had watched him remove the condom and almost regretfully watched him tuck himself back into his jeans, out of sight. It was good while it lasted. He really knew how to fuck a girl, and she could well get used to that. "McDonald's just a couple of blocks from here. The Heavenly Solitude when the smell of the hospital antiseptic makes you want to barf."

"Ah, no, he's not a kid," Dean had to answer with a chuckle. "Pretty sure he'd argue I was the immature one, even if I am the eldest. There's a few years between us, too. It's pretty much just always been me and him. He just had a craving for a Happy Meal, so I gotta get it for him. Need to make up some... um, absence on my part." He glanced away briefly as he shifted his weight, not really sure he should be telling her this after they'd just had hot sex. He reached out to take her hand, threading his fingers through hers as he tugged her close against his side as the doors to the elevators opened on the ground floor. He turned his head, pressing his mouth against her ear again. "I know exactly how you feel about your baby brother. I'm the same. Hate that feeling in my gut, so I'm happy to have distracted you from yours, even for a little while, sweetheart."

Jo turned her head a little to catch his gaze. "Wait, is your brother Jimmy?" she asked him as a realisation dawned on her. She only knew this Jimmy because Ailbe had a crush on him. Not that the Irish nurse had outright admitted it, Jo just knew the look. The sparkle in Ailbe's eye that she got when she talked about him. "He was in a coma, now he's not. In the long stay rehab ward. He's a cop, or something like that. Only he's not FBI, he's just saying he is." As it was, she would welcome the distraction very much so. She also welcomed someone getting it, understanding how she was feeling. She nodded, biting down on her lip a little as they stepped out of the elevator. "And the guilt," she added in a small voice and then cleared her throat, trying to shake the burden off again.

Dean gave a slight nod as his eyebrows went up, surprised she knew about 'Jimmy'. "Yeah, that's him. Trust my brother to become famous while he's unconscious. He's got amnesia. The coma would have been a walk in the park compared to what he's going through now. And I can't do a thing to help, just make it worse. So again, I'm right there with you as far as the guilt thing goes." He didn't comment on the cop thing, knowing he was too tired to spin a good lie. He also got the feeling she might not take any bullshit if he tried it on anyway. Best just to avoid the topic. He dropped a kiss against the top of her head and gave her hand a squeeze. Sometimes Dean was better at the comfort thing than he let on.

"You don't have to worry. They take good care of them up there. Most of the staff here awesome, the ones that aren't... well, just give them a mouthful. Distraught sibling that you are, and all that," Jo explained with a smirk. They passed by a family that looked like it had about nine kids in toe and her nose scrunched up with distaste at the screaming rugrats as she threw a small smile at Dean. She was never the sort to rely on men for anything beyond her brother and father, but for some reason this was oddly comforting to have someone in the same position as she was. "So, love, where are you staying...?"

notjustsammy and makeoutalright used with permission

Words: 4988

musebysentence | 62.8 View

getinlinebitch — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 03:06:01 GMT

I did not cry when Padme died, I was just bored to tears, okay?

28.1.3. Heather Cortez quote

getinlinebitch — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 11:44:27 GMT

28.1.3. "To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world."
- Heather Cortez

Co-written with notjustsammy

Dean Winchester couldn't even count the number of times he'd played FBI Agent in a hospital setting. Usually it was while him and Sam were on a hunt, not while one of them was actually in the hospital. He glanced around, and shuddered. He'd spent way too much time in one as a patient. First was the heart attack, and he really should have died. Second was when he was in that weird ass coma and his Dad sold his soul to get Dean's back... Either way, he hated them. He never wanted to spend any longer amongst the butt revealing gowns, and grumpy doctors any more than he had to.

Only Agent Olsen had gone and got himself hurt while Dean was stuck in Hell. He tucked his fake shield back into the inner pocket of his jacket and followed the sexy brunette nurse to Sam's room. She had one of the finest asses he'd seen since being reborn. She was definitely making the scrubs work for her even if the top wasn't as tight as he'd like. And really, she'd probably just look a lot better naked.

They rounded a corner and Dean was ushered into a room where Sam seemed to be by himself. Score one for their FBI scam. Being an officer of the law seemed to have its perks after all. He wet his lips and had been about to try and do a little scoring of his own when he caught a glance exchanged between Sam and the nurse and his eyebrow kicked up. Sammy didn't even need to be at full strength to be drawing in the girls. Dean was proud of him. At least he got one thing right while he wasn't around to do the big brother thing.

The nurse smiled at him, and Dean gave a nod. Any thoughts of hitting on her were gone since Dean never wanted to fight over a girl with brother again. He waited until the hot nurse left before going to his brother's side and dropping the FBI front. "Dude, you hitting that? And you aren't even at full capacity yet. Naughty nurse high five," he said as he held up his hand and waited for Sam to slap it.

Sam just looked at his brother's hand, a somewhat blank look on his face, before his dark eyes shifted up to Dean's face and he blinked. There was a hint of a confused frown appearing, too, and after his crap night hugging the toilet bowl, he was struggling to get his brain to actually work. Not that he suspected it had worked in a long time. He was aware his head was stuffed, feeling like he was on one big mindfuck since he woke up in hospital alone. In fact, right now, he thought he might be hallucinating Dean's presence. He had dreamt about it, what was one step more to hallucinations? A lot of painkillers had been ploughed into him over the previous few hours, even earning him a shot of morphine for his headache. It was a surprise Dean wasn't in a pink tutu and didn't come with a chorus line of chicks in fairy costumes.

He didn't say anything, just reached over far enough to give Dean a poke in the side to make sure he was real. He felt real enough. "Who are you?" he finally asked suspiciously, trying to cop a close look at Dean's eyes to see if they were going to pool black all of a sudden.

Dean dropped his hand. It probably was too much to assume that Sam would just give him a high five and they could pick up where they left off. There was going to be a lot of awkward 'you were in Hell' bullshit that Dean just really wanted to skip over. He didn't want to get into the details, didn't want to relive the horrors. Even if his nightmares weren't giving him much choice. "Okay, I deserve that. Sammy, it's me, your brother. Dean. I'm back." He held up his hand again, but this time briefly so that Sam would give him a moment. Dean stuck his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a small bottle of Holy Water. "See? I'll prove it." He popped the top of it, and downed the whole thing. If he had been a demon, there definitely would have been some pretty cool smoking effects right about now.

The frown was still set in Sam's features, a mix of confusion and lingering pain from the night before. "Back from where?" he continued to throw at his brother warily. He was sat up in the hospital bed, both Ailbe and his doctors adament he needed to stay in bed today as a precaution. Seems no one trusted his brain not to explode and land him in another coma. Even still, Sam was still Dean's little brother. He scrunched his nose up and maybe proceeded to pout just slightly. "Took your damn time about it, didn't you?" he added snappily, folding his arms defensively across his body.

Dean frowned a little himself as he looked at Sam, something not sitting quite right as he looked him over. He stepped in closer as the bottle was tucked back in his pocket, and his hand came to rest on Sam's shoulder as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You know me, man, I'm always fashionably late. Can't not make an entrance. I'm sorry it took me so long... Never would have gone anywhere in the first place if I'd had a choice. I was, ah... I was..." Dean faltered. "What do you remember about the last time you saw me?"

"That you're a big pussy," Sam offered, raising an eyebrow at his brother. He continued to keep his arms locked across his chest, some sort of defensive shield. He was thrown having Dean here, it didn't make sense all of a sudden. He couldn't stop putting a hand up to his head soon and rubbing his fingers briefly across his temple. "Where did you go?"

"How the head? They looking after you okay here? Any idea when you're allowed out? Although if that chick in here just now was my nurse, I'd never wanna leave." Dean pulled up a chair to sit beside his brother, leaning forward as he studied Sam's face in a long silence. "You don't need to know that now. We'll get you fixed up first."

Sam looked at Dean skeptically, huffing out an annoyed snort. "I had a head injury, I'm not brain damaged. You don't need to treat me like a kid. But I'm sure, whatever it was, was way more important to you than making sure your brother wasn't dead. You're just like Dad, can't even rely on you when I'm in a coma." It was a low blow, especially for Sam. But after all the pain he had been through, and trying to face this and the mess in his head without Dean's reassurance, it had left him feeling more than a little fragile and pissed off. All he knew was that Dean had been absent, and all of a sudden he was here and had no intentions of offering an explanation from beyond some other damn hunt or another. It was cutting very close to home like Sam's memories of their father.

Dean started to say something, but stopped. It wasn't going to help either of them if they got into a fight over who was the most like Dad again. As much as Dean loved their father, he really wasn't the greatest family role model. Not as far as sticking around went. Their Dad had tried to do the best he could, but hunting wasn't made for quality father-sons bonding. And yet Dean had still worshipped the ground he'd walked on. Maybe Dean really was screwed in the head. "Hell," he finally said, his tone low. "I was in Hell, Sammy. Don't you remember anything about the Hell Hounds? About me trading my soul to get you back? I had a year to live, remember? Nothing is more important than you, but I can't be here when I'm trapped in the world's worst Motel 6."

Sam looked at Dean like he was crazy. "Hell? What are you on about? Did you get drunk and sleep with an ugly chick or something? I don't even know what a Hell Hound is." He just continued to frown at his brother. he knew Dean was evasive, but this was bullshit. "Fine, don't tell me where the hell you were. I don't even care. I can survive on my own, anyway. You drag me outta college to just... just..." He waved his hand a little with another snort of annoyance. "I should just go back. Obviously you're doing fine on your own without me."

"Sammy, c'mon!" Dean couldn't help but let the frustration slip out. He really was telling the truth, and now Sam was feeding him this high and mighty crap about being alone and dragging him out of-- "You've got amnesia, don't you? That hit to the head shook a few screws loose, and now you're going Memento on me, only that guy really was batshit crazy with all the tattoos and Polaroids... Christ, I can't believe it. You've gone back to the future, man."

"Bullshit!" Sam cried in response, his own frustration surging to the forefront in reaction. "I do not have damn amnesia! Don't you think they would have told me if I had it? I'm surrounded by doctors! I just... haven't told them who I really am! They think I'm Jimmy Olsen and I'm cool with that right now. How was I supposed to know what landed me here? I didn't want to deal with getting interrogated about what I really do. I can't even watch that Coke ad on TV without hurling from all the damn... movement," he said, scrunching up his nose. Damn psychedelic marketing.

"And risk this?" Dean asked his brother as he gazed at him steadily, taking the outburst in his stride. God only knew they'd done worse to each other over the years, even if they were each other's best friend. It was what family was about though, right? Real family. It was about withstanding the bad times as well as the good. "You really don't think that not remembering how you got here was a little tip off? I mean, I get blow to the heads can fuck with some shit, but there would have been at least a memory of what you were doing right before, an idea of what we were hunting if I'd been with you. I'm sorry I wasn't here, Sam. I really am. It hurts seeing you in this place, but I'm here now. We just... I need you to remember because trying to get it through your abnormally large forehead that I was in Hell is just going to suck big time."

"Risk what?" Sam snapped back, reaching his tolerance threshold, which was apparently quite low right now. "They said it's normal for a patient not to remember the events of a trauma, dickwad. What are you, Dr Feelgood? I know what we were hunting right before. But do you think I was just gonna tell them and let them log it in a permanent medical record? It was a bitch angry poltergeist in our old home. We saw Mom, remember? And you think I'm the one with damn amnesia," he snorted, turning his head to look out the window at the dreary New York buildings.

"Sam, that was three years ago!" Dean dropped his head, and scrubbed his hand over his face as the other one rest next to Sam on the bed. Last thing Sam remembered was going back home, and seeing Mom. Dean wasn't about to go over the three years in between then and now. He couldn't. Too much of it fucking hurt. Why couldn't his brother just remember? "And to risk you having the angry outbursts! That's what. To risk stressing you out in case it made things worse. I don't want you tellin' 'em a damn thing, but that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to friggen ask you! I'm your brother."

It felt like someone had poured icy cold water down his back. Three years ago? Despite his protests, he wasn't stupid enough not to think something was fucked in his head. He knew it was, he just hadn't had the capacity to figure it out. In the early time of his hospital stay, he had been completely confused. He believed he was this Jimmy person. But slowly it started to come back, to know who he was. But something still wasn't right. There was those weird nightmares that caused excruciating pain in his head, and he at least knew Dean and that Dean was his brother. He knew Jess had been murdered and that he had packed college in to go hunting for whatever it was that killed her and their mother. But then he was here, from a bad accident no one knew about and he certainly couldn't remember. Even now, that squeezing headache was back and the nausea was starting to churn in his gut. He put his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes and resting his hand across his forehead. "I feel like crap," he mumbled, losing the energy to fight or maintain any angry outbursts. Three years? Did the head injury really cause amnesia and make him lose three years of his memory?

Dean took his brother's hand as he watched Sam. "Need me to buzz the nurse? Want some water, or, ah... a psychiatrist?" Dean tried to smile. "I know, how about a stripper? Give you a nice little lap dance, and you'll perk right up. I'm real sorry I had to burst your amnesiac bubble, Sammy. I tried to warn you that you didn't want to know. I wish I had been around, but I couldn't. I would have stopped you getting hurt if I could. You know that."

Sam was frowning, trying to fight the headache away. "Then why am I here? What did this? They said it wasn't a car crash. There was no car. Just me in some place on my own. They think it was an assault, but I dunno, Dean. It's gotta be something more, right? Something did this to me?" The confusion was evident in his voice, but there was also a plea to his brother behind the words. Truth was, Sam was scared that whatever did this to him would come back to finish him off, but he had found being in the hospital with a fucked head really did make one paranoid, especially with the nightmares... which he wasn't going to tell Dean about.

"Because you were stupid," Dean bit out before he could stop it. He raised his free hand to rub it over his mouth, and sighed as he slumped back in the chair. "Bobby said you went after Lilith. A long story you ain't even gonna remember, but just realise she's Hell's ultimate bitch. She's the reason I made it to Hell. Well, not quite the only reason, but definitely high up on the list. I'm stupid too. I guess you just had to get your vengeance on, but she beat you."

Sam just looked at Dean blankly. "A demon?" he asked, really not following, and wondering why a demon would have a name like Lilith. He didn't profess to be particularly deep right now. He did smirk and snigger before he could stop himself. "Lilith," he snorted in amusement.

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam's reaction. He had to wonder how Sam would have felt regarding Lilith's original little girl vessel. It had been kind of amusing until the killing started. "You really have shaken a few marbles loose, haven't you? How am I ever gonna trust you to take care of yourself?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe you can't anymore," he pointed out, meeting Dean's gaze. "What would you do if I can't?" he added in challenge. Life on the road, hunting, wasn't exactly conducive to looking after a brother with a screw loose who could maybe put them in more danger than the things they were hunting. He wasn't sure Dean would have much interest in a burden like that, either, not with hunting being his top priority.

Dean looked away, staring at the nurses gathered around their station. The pretty brunette was there, and he caught her looking at Sam. Her gaze flicked to meet Dean's, and she seemed embarrassed at being sprung. He glanced back at his brother. He'd been to Hell for Sam. He'd given his soul up so his brother would live. Now his brother was laid up in hospital from trying to kill a stupid demon bitch. He didn't even want to bring up Ruby. Better Sam didn't remember her, either. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Sam regardless of hunting. "I'd stay and help you out. I draw the line at changing any adult diapers."

Sam pulled a face and flipped Dean off. "I'm toilet trained. You're safe." But he did watch his brother intently for a moment, wondering if Dean really would draw the line if Sam was in any worse condition. He couldn't deny he had been mad at Dean for not being here, but he was glad he was back now, and after a few silent beats, he cleared his throat. "I'm kinda fucked in the head, dude. And I don't know how to fix it," he admitted.

Dean wasn't sure if he'd draw the line either, but he wasn't about to admit it to his brother. He liked to think he was there through thick and thin, but part of it was that if he were honest, he had never expected to make it to old age. He wasn't even sure if Sammy would once he had been back in the hunting game. And each time it came to Sam nearly dying, Dean did everything he could to make sure his brother lived. Surely that said something? "Maybe it's just time for us to stop for a bit until you do," Dean murmured as he leaned forward again, and rest his hand on Sam's arm.

Sam looked at Dean uncertainly. "Us? Sure you can just stop? What would you do?" he asked. But talking about it, it did seem like he was going to need at least a short while to recover. The pain was still crippling, and obviously he didn't have enough of a memory to know really what they could be dealing with. What if he had lost a lot vital information? Dean obviously knew a lot he didn't. A lot. Another frown appeared. "You were in Hell? What... what happened there? Why were you there?"

"I got no idea, but I'm sure I can figure out somethin'. Sure this place has a lot of things that go bump in the night, so I won't be completely in retirement. Just means we stop chasin' things cross country. Besides, I only just got back... I ain't got any ties right now. Nothin' that's more pressin' than my brother. We'll stay, okay? Just relax. Just remind me I'm Dean Olsen..." Dean's face twisted like he'd had a painful headache of his own, and he looked away again, checking to see no one was paying any attention. "Same ol', same ol'. Did a deal with a Crossroads Demon so you'd live. You... ah, died. For a little while. A year ago, I guess. Demon gave me a year to live before the Hounds would come collect my soul. I don't wanna talk about what went down, Sam. Not right now. It's not exactly bedside conversation."

Sam just listened quietly, biting on the corner of his lip. He wanted to give Dean a hug, but he knew he would get the general feigned indifference to it. "Maybe we should... get a place, or something. Here. For awhile. Short lease. I'm not sure how long I'm gonna need doctors. If they think I have someone to stay with, they might let me outta here. I mean, it's nice... they've been good..." He trailed off briefly and his gaze flicked momentarily to Ailbe out at the nurses' station. "Just don't like being laid up."

Dean didn't miss the gaze, and he smirked widely. "No, you just wanna get laid. And nothin' quite works like the amnesia patient just tryin' to find out who he is. It's cool, I get it. Just make sure you hang up a sock when we do get a place. I don't need to be scarred for life. Some things I can live without seein'. But we'll get the place. We'll do whatever you wanna do, Sammy. You can call the shots for a little while."

Sam snorted. "I didn't forget how to get laid," he scoffed. "And I know what you're thinking. It's nothing. She's just helped me, been with me when things get real crap. It's not pretty. She's one of the permanent nurses for this ward, so she's hear about every day, some nights." He rubbed at his head, remembering how much it had been hurting the night before. "Did you find Dad?"

"Didn't say you did, just said you wanted to get laid." Dean arched his eyebrow as he started to chuckle. "Actually, I really don't think you know what I'm thinkin'. So if she's just a nurse to you, you won't mind if I make a couple moves? Been a while, a guy needs some action to make sure all of him has come back in tact. Unless of course you're lyin' to your big brother and you really do have a thing for her. Which is okay, you know. World's not gonna end because Sam Winchester has a crush." Dean's expression turned sober, and he snorted. "You really know how to ask me all the tough ones, don't you? Yeah, we found him. Things didn't... ah, quite work out. Not exactly a happy endin'."

"I don't have a crush. She's my nurse. That's probably illegal or something. She helped me. Go ahead, make the moves, I don't care. You're not her type. She wants someone that actually cares. She met a dude like you online one night, some detective. She came in all bothered the next day calling him a wanker... or something." Sam glanced back to the nurses' station, but Ailbe was gone. He was pretty sure she wouldn't go for someone like Dean... hoped she wouldn't, maybe. He turned back to Dean, not following. "Where is he?"

"You know what they say about denyin' somethin' too much, right, little brother?" Dean patted his brother's arm as he winked at him. "It's okay, I won't make any moves. We only ever fought over a girl once and we both know how that turned out. Actually, only I know how that turned out... Wow, this is really hard tryin' to think of things you remember." Dean shook his head. "No one's like me, Jimmy. I'm a unique friggen snowflake. Sounds like she needs the tall, dark, and nerdy. Hey wait, that's you!" Dean cleared his throat. "Dead, Sam. Dad's dead."

Sam snorted softly and shifted restlessly in the bed. "I'm not denying anything," came out of his mouth before he could stop it, making him sound like a complete idiot. "I have amnesia. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. You better get used to it, because I'm gonna milk it for all it's worth." The thought of him fighting with Dean over a girl was laughable. He really couldn't imagine that happening. What girl would be mental enough to want them both? But he didn't get a chance to analyse it any further. His mouth dropped open in shock and he stared at Dean in disbelief. "What? He... what? H-How... I mean... when?"

Dean couldn't take the look. Anything he'd been about to say about Sam milking the amnesia died on his lips as he pushed up out of his chair and started to pace the length of Sam's bed. Jesus, why did his brother have to forget three whole fucking years. This was torture. Dean had to relive every damn horrible moment, and telling Sam all over again was just breaking his heart. He rubbed at his chest like the muscle really was ripping apart in his chest and he sat back down and rest his elbows on his knees. "We found Dad while huntin' some vampires... It was kinda like old times. You and he fightin', me and him actin' like there ain't a ton of issues that need talkin' about... We stayed together for a little while. Even managed to find the Yellow Eyed Demon. Dad tried to go after him on his own... Then the son of a bitch actually possessed Dad for a little while. I couldn't kill him. It was Dad! I just... I couldn't. Patrocide ain't in my nature. Anyway, flashforward some, and we're all in the Impala... Truck slams into us, and you're the only one that came outta it kinda clean. I was in a coma, Dad was banged up pretty bad. I shoulda died. It was my time. Death came for me. She was actually kinda cute, but you... You wouldn't really let me go, and I don't think I wanted you to let me go. And Dad, well, he did what us Winchesters do best. He traded his soul for mine. Made a deal with the Yellow Eyed Demon, and he died instead of me. You got no idea how much I hated him for that."

Sam felt strangely like he wanted to throw up, only it was more a wrenching feeling deep in his gut, and he actually leaned over on his elbow towards the side of the bed in case he gave into the urge. It was hard enough trying to wrap his head around the fact their father was dead, let alone hearing about the soul trading. But the worst of it was hearing that Dean had nearly died. That just seemed to feel like it was slicing Sam in two, and he paled even more than he already was. It almost seemed an impossible feat. Hearing Dean talk about 'his time', Sam just couldn't swallow it and a lump formed in his throat that was really still trying to set his gag reflex into action. He swallowed heavily, opening his mouth a little to say something, but no words came at first. A deep frown appeared on his forehead and an odd sense of dejavu washed over him, almost like he was feeling like he had dreamt about what Dean had just said. He tried again to talk, his voice coming out hoarse. "Dude, the Impala?" he said, trying to keep it light. He wasn't sure he could face it all just yet.

Dean reached out to rub his hand against Sam's back, not even thinking about the fact that his shoes would be a prime target if his brother did decide to throw up. Not that he could blame him, his own stomach was clenching with discomfort. "Yeah, well... Me and Bobby worked pretty hard at gettin' it up and runnin'. It wasn't a pretty sight at first, but we got her goin'. No way I was givin' up my baby."

"Bobby?" Sam's head was starting to spin again. It was an information overload and he shot Dean an apologetic look, silently trying to send a sorry to his brother for not getting most of it. "I just... is the Impala okay or isn't it? Where is it?" he asked, sighing heavily in frustration at not being able to remember. Until now, it hadn't been an issue, but all of a sudden, it felt like he was fighting a battle to remember everything Dean was telling him he had forgotten. It was disconcerting hearing it, hearing you had been a part of it, and having absolutely no recollection of it. It was like a hangover, only of friggen Godzilla epic proportions.

"One of Dad's old hunter friends... Think a grizzly version of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Fatter, too. And a lot angrier..." Dean trailed off as he tilted his head, and tried to reassess his comparison. "Anyway, trust me, we'd be lost without him. You have actually met him before. Long time ago. The Impala's somethin' I was gonna ask you about, but good to know you remember. She's only my pride and joy, and now you've gone and parked her God knows where out there in New York City. You're the one that had her, man, not me. Can't take a car to Hell." His expression softened as he looked at Sam again. "Hey, look, just take it easy, okay? We'll figure everythin' out. We got time."

For some reason, hearing he had the Impala was a complete mind fuck for Sam. He had the Impala and he lost it. How did someone manage to lose a whole damn car? It was on the tip of his tongue to say sorry, but are you supposed to say sorry for things you don't even know about? "Sorry?" he offered meekly, shrinking back against the pillows and feeling like he was a kid again. "Time... yeah. I can do time. I think. I just... could really use a damn beer."

Dean turned his head to glance at the nurses' station as he pretended to need to rub his chin against his shoulder. "Might just have to wait until the next visit for the beer. I'll try and sneak some in. Meantime, you at least got your possessions? If you got the keys on you, I can try and find the Impala." He bit his lip as he looked at Sam with concern. Bitching him out about being stupid enough to lose the car would come when Sam was well enough to appreciate just how stupid he'd been. "I'll come back. I promise."

Sam had to take a moment to make sure Dean was serious, but he soon nodded, looking up at his brother. "Okay," he eventually agreed with a nod. "I should get some rest anyway. If I don't, I start puking like that chick off the Exorcist." He pointed to the cabinet under the nightstand. "There's stuff of mine in there, but I don't know what's there. I haven't looked. Haven't really had much need to. Just... where are you going? When will you come back?"

Dean had turned to pull open the cabinet, and was twisting forward awkwardly to look inside. He pulled out his car keys, and a fake ID for Sam - or rather Jimmy. There was a bag with suit all folded up inside it. No weapons. Dean pressed his lips together as he frowned, wondering if Sam really had gone in unarmed, or if what he'd been using was back at the scene of the accident. He sat back up after flicking the cabinet shut, and tried not to fall off his chair as a sudden wave of dizziness hit. "Whoa, head spin. Remind me not to do that again. I really don't need you puking up green peas, so rest is best. I got no idea since you can't remember, but I might be able to sweet talk one of those nurses into giving me some info about where you were found. Otherwise we're screwed if the cops find her, and her trunk full of toys that really don't belong in Happy Meals. I'll come back in a few hours, okay? Better get used to me being a fixture here. I'm sure the nurses won't mind a little extra eye candy."

Sam frowned. "When did you last sleep?" he found himself asking. He had been watching Dean rifle around in the cabinet, noticing the Impala keys in there. Well, that was one step down. Now just the fucking impossible task of finding the car in New York City. That was going to be about as easy as finding Paris Hilton without crabs. He felt the relief wash over him when Dean said he would be back in a few hours. Seems he was having a sudden case of separation anxiety. Not that anyone could blame him. "Happy Meal... I want a Happy Meal, too."

"Happy Meal, check. I'll add it to the least of contraband. Might just grab you some condoms too, just in case you decide you do wanna play a little doctors and nurses with Nurse Hottie. Man, her ass... But I'm not going there," Dean hastily added as he held up his hands in defence. "I last slept... before I died. I can sleep more when I know you're okay." And when he knew the Impala was okay, but Sam didn't need to think he was playing second fiddle to a car. He gave Sam's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I will be back, Sam."

Sam really tried not to think about Ailbe and condoms and her ass, and he had to shift in bed, hastily rearranging the blankets over his lap and legs. "Don't get me the friggen girls toy, either. I don't want any Strawberry Shortcake My Little Pony Crap," he had to add, and then gave Dean a small wave. "Come back, or I'll... I dunno, shove an IV pole up your ass... or something."

"You're feisty when you're forgetful, you know that," Dean responded with a smirk. He made a mental note to get Sam the girly toys anyway, now his brother had reminded him. He shifted his hand to ruffle his brother's hair affectionately, and just stood there for a moment to look at him. Sam was alive. He was doing his best impression of Jason Bourne, but at least he was alive.

Sam looked up at Dean and after a moment a smile appeared on his lips an he gave a slight nod. "Thanks for coming back, Dean..." he said quietly.

Dean just gave a nod, and raised a hand in a brief wave before he turned to find one of the nurses to con into revealing patient information. He blinked back tears that were pricking the backs of his eyes, having Sam back meaning more to him than his own life.

Dean Winchester
Supernatural
Words: 5752

Ailbe O'Loughlin [makeoutalright] used with permission.

For musebyrp

getinlinebitch — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 10:42:24 GMT

Was there some kind of ten for one offer on tiny blondes lately that I don't know about, or are they some kinda demon army bein' amassed to take over the world?

Dean Winchester

@ smuttysws

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@ dear_mun

*dusts him off*

@ musebyrp

musebysentence | Table Set #4

@ musebyrp

musebyrp

musebysentence | 96.6 Sappy

musebysentence | 93.22 Virtuous

sixwordstories

musebysentence | 81.1 Thrill is Gone

musebysentence | 77.6 Indulge

OOC | A Word From the Sponsor

musebysentence | 76.3 From This Moment

musebysentence | 73.9 Men Behaving Badly

SWS

musebysentence | 68.1 Voyeurism

[NSFW] just_fck_me | 3.10 Aerosmith lyrics

musebysentence | 62.8 View

28.1.3. Heather Cortez quote

For musebyrp

dusts him off