Work Text:
“You sure you’re okay? He threw you pretty good.”
“I’m fine.”
But Dean wasn’t fine. Whatever happened when he was thrown across the carpark and into the side of a car had messed his back up pretty good. It wasn’t even that it was an injury he was hiding because it was too blatantly obvious to even attempt to conceal. He was stiff. He couldn’t sit down for long periods of time and if he did when he finally stood up it took him a long time to straighten out. He was moving slowly, deliberately, carefully rationed movements and he was not beyond grunting in pain, wincing, cussing or complaining. And it had gone on for days.
…
“Dean.”
“Argh, gimme a minute.”
“Dean.”
“I just… sat for too long. Gotta stretch out.”
“You can’t even stand up straight.”
“Yeah, I said gimme a minute.”
“That’s not my point - Look, Dean. Something’s going on here. I think maybe you should see a doctor.”
“Ha, good one, Sam.”
“I’m serious, Dean. Cas won’t answer our calls and you’ve been hobbling around for days.”
“I don’t hobble.”
Sam’s lips and eyebrows formed flat parallel lines.
“Alright, maybe I’ve been a little sore lately.”
“Dude, you’re moving like an old man.”
“Shut your mouth.”
Sam sighed.
“It’s just muscular, okay?” Dean finally straightened up, holding onto the back of the chair.
“How do you know? It could be a slipped disc or something.”
“Crap,” Dean winced as a spasm ripped through him.
“Dean…”
“I’m just gonna go lay down.”
…
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“What are you still doing in here?”
Dean glanced at his brother and then back up towards the ceiling.
“Oh, just hanging out.”
“You can’t get up, can you?”
“Yes, I can.”
Sam folded his arms.
“Okay… I think maybe I should see a doctor.”
“Hospital?”
“Yeah, hospital.”
“Alright, come on, brother.”
…
Dean shifted on the bed.
“You okay?”
“Hate these stupid gowns,” Dean slurred.
“How’s the pain?”
“‘S’all good, Sammy.”
Dean pulled at the drip.
“Hey, leave that alone.”
“They give me… what - they give me?”
“Fentanyl and oxycodone.”
“Yeah, that - that makes sense.”
“They’re gonna take you down to xray in a minute.”
…
“Do you know you’ve broken your back before?”
“What?”
“It would have been some time ago. It’s healed now. Do you remember what would have caused that?”
Dean made eye contact with Sam and shrugged almost imperceptibly to anyone that wasn’t Sam.
Sam cleared his throat, “We play a lot of contact sport. He’s taken some hard hits in the past.”
“You’re a tough son of a bitch, I’ll give you that.”
Dean raised his eyebrows.
…
“What kind of doctor talks like that?”
“Apparently a good one.”
“So, it’s all good?”
“Yeah, we’re just waiting for your prescriptions then we can go.”
“Told ya… I was fine.”
Sam signed, “They want you to see a physical therapist once a week for 6 weeks.”
“Well, that’s not gonna happen.”
“Dean.”
“They gave me painkillers, right?”
“Yes, but you can’t just -“ Sam let out a breath, tried to calm his voice, “That’s not a long term solution.”
“They don’t know I got an angel in my pocket,” Dean grinned.
“I’m not talking to you while you’re like this.”
“You love me.”
…
“Okay, you got everything?”
“Mm.”
“You need ice or anything?”
“Uh uh.”
“I’ll be in the library. Text me if you need anything.”
…
Sam’s phone buzzed against the table.
“Hey, you alright?”
“I can’t - get in.”
“Get in where? What are you doing?” Sam asked, standing.
“The lid won’t…”
“Hang on.”
Dean was flat on his back on his bed, struggling to get the top off the bottle of pain pills.
“Dean, no. You can’t have more yet.”
Dean let Sam take the bottle from him and rubbed both eyes with his fists like a sleepy toddler.
“Are you still sore?”
“Mm…”
“I think you need to go to sleep.”
“Tired.”
“I know, man.”
“Bored.”
“I figured.”
“Why don’t you… bring your books in here.”
“You want me to come sit with you?”
“No, I just -“
“Awww.”
“Go away. I changed my mind.”
Sam laughed and went to get his books.
…
Dean was lying on his stomach, face turned to the side, smushed against his pillow, ice pack on his back.
“Nnng.”
“What’s wrong now?”
“Ice is melting.”
“That’s what ice does.”
“Want more pills.”
“You can’t have more pills. You’re already stoned. I don’t know how you’re still conscious.”
“Hurts.”
Sam furrowed his brow.
Dean shifted around on the bed, wincing.
“Need to move. Ugh. Saaam.”
“I think I liked you better without the drugs.”
“You’re an ass.”
…
“Alright, fine. Now you can have another one. But you have to eat with the anti inflammatories. I made you grilled cheese.”
“Sammy,” Dean shoved the sandwich in his mouth, “you are a treasure,” he said around a mouthful of toasted bread and cheese.
Sam laughed and gave Dean the correct amount of medication.
…
“Where are you going?”
“To bed, Dean. It’s after midnight.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Could you… could you -“ Dean reached a hand out to his brother.
Sam sighed and pulled out the chair at the desk, sitting back down.
Dean’s arm flopped back onto the bed next to him.
“I’ll stay until you’re asleep.”
Dean sniffed, smirked, then his expression changed to one of serious contemplation and he nodded as if that sounded like a great idea.
“G’night, Sammy.”
“Yeah, yeah, get some sleep, tough guy.”
End.