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tamingthemuseTitle: A Shadow of Your Steps
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chosenfire28
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN. All recognizable characters and situations belong to their respective owners and I make no profit off of this.
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: #110 “Necrotizing fasciitis”
Word Count: 1,442
Characters: Dean, Sam, OC
Spoilers: SPN season 1
Summary: A check up at the hospital reveals to Sam a secret he didn’t know, one he wish he hadn’t learned.
Author Note’s : So, I’ve known for awhile how I wanted to this to go it just took forever to make it come out right. This was beta’d by the wonderfulblue_icy_rose
~*~
“So what does Bobby think?” Dean asked as Sam got off the phone. He glanced at him quickly before his eyes locked back on the road in front of them. Dirt clung to his skin, dusting across his face, and shadows danced under his eyes from the darkness outside.
Sam sighed, pushing his cell phone into his pocket. “Bobby thinks we should head to the nearest hospital and get checked out just in case and he thinks we’re idiots for not doing more research.”
Dean grunted, muttering, “What else is new?” There was a small cut above his eye from where he had been thrown into the wall by the latest pissed off spirit and he was looking the worse for wear. Still he grinned, asking Sam, “So, tattle tell, where is the nearest hospital?”
Sam reached for the stack of maps they kept on the dash, picking up the flashlight from the floorboard. “What are you, five?” He flicked the light on and found the right map, using his fingers to trace the route and find what he was looking for. “There were chemicals, Dean. Who knows what we could have inhaled?”
“Well, you didn’t have to call Bobby, we’re fine.”
“But we might not be,” Sam shot back. “Dr. Carey tested viruses on his patients. He specialized in treating necrotizing fasciitis, flesh-eating bacteria.” They had found the case in one of the small town newspapers that they kept on eye on. Year after year, there was an outbreak of the disease and no one knew what caused it. All they knew was that the strain was very subtle and most people died before they could get any treatment.
They had hit up the local library and had found in the archives, an article about a doctor who had killed himself in his office after one of his co-workers had discovered him testing on patients.
The disease that the town had been facing all led back to the caved in building that had been the small practice and all seven victims over the past three years had had some contact with it. One woman had jogged by it each day on her normal route, another had been searching the rubble for treasures, even a few of the construction workers that were clearing the area had fallen ill.
So, they had rushed in, fallen through a hole in the floor, found the office nearby, and had found the urn of ashes that was one Dr. Mitchell Carey. Apparently, his secretary had placed them in his old office because the doctor had loved the place so much and the urn had had a lock of his hair woven around it.
Dean had figured the doctor had been banging the secretary and that’s why the woman had been so morbid.
Bobby had been right though. They hadn’t done their research as thoroughly as they should have and they hadn’t known about the deadly diseases in the place until after they had salted and burned the hair. Dean had been all for stopping at the hotel to clean up and get some sleep, then leaving in the morning and continuing their search for their dad.
Sam had called Bobby. He had suggested they get their asses to the hospital to get checked just in case.
~*~
They had been led into two different stories after Dean had rattled off an elaborate story about playing with old medical supplies of their grandpa’s who had had the flesh-eating disease.
He had spun the lie with a charming smile and the doctors had bought it just like everyone else did. Sometimes Dean’s ability to lie amazed Sam. The thing was, he had been taught to lie like that too and lately he was wondering if it wasn’t such a bad thing.
The doctor that had been examining him had gone through his medical records already. They were using their real names, they always did when it came to medical issues and they weren’t working a case.
The doctor had asked him a few questions about how he felt. Did his skin feel tight or irritated? Did any part of his skin feel swollen?
Then, they had examined every inch of his skin, Sam had played sports in high school and was fairly comfortable disrobing for medical purposes and then there had been his three week stint as a nude model for the art class during his second semester. He was generally comfortable in his own skin these days.
He knew Dean, on the other hand, had never been one for team sports and had always been shy when they had had to dress out in gym. Sam knew for a fact that Dean was uncomfortable as hell with doctors. Ever since his brother was sixteen, he had been griping about old pervert’s grabby hands and nurses that were nowhere near hot enough and gave him the creeps.
Sam had pulled his clothes back on and was sitting on the table, one knee bent as he balanced it against the frame.
“Well Mr. Winchester,” Dr. Sway, a peppered haired man, said as he entered the room. “Everything looks fine for you and your brother. He is waiting out in the hall for you.”
“Okay.” Sam smiled, feeling the mask he often wore when speaking to others slip into place. “Thank you, Doctor.” He hopped off the table and moved to the door but the voice of the other man stopped him.
“Mr. Winchester, I have a few more questions for you regarding your brother and the further treatment he’s received for his leg. I tried asking him but he refused to answer.”
Sam turned back to Dr. Sway, confusion clearly written across his face. “There’s nothing wrong with my brother’s leg.” Dean was fine; he had been fine ever since Sam had gotten back.
Dr. Sway studied him before explaining to Sam slowly, “According to your brother’s files, last year he was in an accident and his left leg was shattered. He had two surgeries and couldn’t walk for a few weeks. For over a month he had to use a cane.” The doctor stopped, seeming surprised. “You didn’t know this?”
Sam swallowed what he really wanted to say, knowing his face was pale and he tried to slip the smile back on his lips, to pull the mask back over his face. “No. I was away at school. Dean and my dad handled all that.” The smile was there but it was brittle and Sam inclined his head to the doctor. “I have to go. Thank you for all your help.”
He left before the man could say anymore and walked down the hallway, seeing Dean at the nurses’ station. His brother was grinning brightly, leaning against the counter, his eyes sparkling as he told the pretty blonde nurse something. She was staring up at him intently and all Sam could do was look at his brother and remember the call he had gotten from Dean over a year ago.
Sam had ignored any calls from his family for over a year and those calls had dwindled down. But one day, he had gotten two calls from Dean, and even one from his Dad, who had never called at all, and Dean had even left a message that Sam had deleted before listening to.
He had still been angry at his brother.
Dean spotted Sam and trailed off mid-sentence, his grin now directed at his brother. “Hey, what took so long?” Before Sam could answer, Dean was off again. “I told you we were fine.” He turned back to the nurse. “I swear people never believe me these days, you know?”
She blushed, clearly buying into what Sam had seen Dean do with girl after girl in each new town and Sam let a small smile touch his lips as he told his brother, “We should go.” Sam started walking and he didn’t hear what Dean said to the nurse, all he knew was Dean caught up with him, his grin still in place and his eyes light and happy. “So what took you so long?” he repeated, his attention now on Sam.
Sam shook his head. “Nothing, just some extra paperwork.” And though his brother was fine, the guilt clawed at his gut and he wanted to bury his fist in the wall or something for the stupidity that anger at his dad had led to, but Dean was fine. He was walking, he wasn’t in pain.
Sam would hold onto that however long he could and ignore the fact that while Dean had always been there when he needed him, Sam had failed to be there for his brother the one time that Dean had brought himself to needing him.
Author:
chosenfire28Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN. All recognizable characters and situations belong to their respective owners and I make no profit off of this.
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: #110 “Necrotizing fasciitis”
Word Count: 1,442
Characters: Dean, Sam, OC
Spoilers: SPN season 1
Summary: A check up at the hospital reveals to Sam a secret he didn’t know, one he wish he hadn’t learned.
Author Note’s : So, I’ve known for awhile how I wanted to this to go it just took forever to make it come out right. This was beta’d by the wonderful
blue_icy_rose~*~
“So what does Bobby think?” Dean asked as Sam got off the phone. He glanced at him quickly before his eyes locked back on the road in front of them. Dirt clung to his skin, dusting across his face, and shadows danced under his eyes from the darkness outside.
Sam sighed, pushing his cell phone into his pocket. “Bobby thinks we should head to the nearest hospital and get checked out just in case and he thinks we’re idiots for not doing more research.”
Dean grunted, muttering, “What else is new?” There was a small cut above his eye from where he had been thrown into the wall by the latest pissed off spirit and he was looking the worse for wear. Still he grinned, asking Sam, “So, tattle tell, where is the nearest hospital?”
Sam reached for the stack of maps they kept on the dash, picking up the flashlight from the floorboard. “What are you, five?” He flicked the light on and found the right map, using his fingers to trace the route and find what he was looking for. “There were chemicals, Dean. Who knows what we could have inhaled?”
“Well, you didn’t have to call Bobby, we’re fine.”
“But we might not be,” Sam shot back. “Dr. Carey tested viruses on his patients. He specialized in treating necrotizing fasciitis, flesh-eating bacteria.” They had found the case in one of the small town newspapers that they kept on eye on. Year after year, there was an outbreak of the disease and no one knew what caused it. All they knew was that the strain was very subtle and most people died before they could get any treatment.
They had hit up the local library and had found in the archives, an article about a doctor who had killed himself in his office after one of his co-workers had discovered him testing on patients.
The disease that the town had been facing all led back to the caved in building that had been the small practice and all seven victims over the past three years had had some contact with it. One woman had jogged by it each day on her normal route, another had been searching the rubble for treasures, even a few of the construction workers that were clearing the area had fallen ill.
So, they had rushed in, fallen through a hole in the floor, found the office nearby, and had found the urn of ashes that was one Dr. Mitchell Carey. Apparently, his secretary had placed them in his old office because the doctor had loved the place so much and the urn had had a lock of his hair woven around it.
Dean had figured the doctor had been banging the secretary and that’s why the woman had been so morbid.
Bobby had been right though. They hadn’t done their research as thoroughly as they should have and they hadn’t known about the deadly diseases in the place until after they had salted and burned the hair. Dean had been all for stopping at the hotel to clean up and get some sleep, then leaving in the morning and continuing their search for their dad.
Sam had called Bobby. He had suggested they get their asses to the hospital to get checked just in case.
~*~
They had been led into two different stories after Dean had rattled off an elaborate story about playing with old medical supplies of their grandpa’s who had had the flesh-eating disease.
He had spun the lie with a charming smile and the doctors had bought it just like everyone else did. Sometimes Dean’s ability to lie amazed Sam. The thing was, he had been taught to lie like that too and lately he was wondering if it wasn’t such a bad thing.
The doctor that had been examining him had gone through his medical records already. They were using their real names, they always did when it came to medical issues and they weren’t working a case.
The doctor had asked him a few questions about how he felt. Did his skin feel tight or irritated? Did any part of his skin feel swollen?
Then, they had examined every inch of his skin, Sam had played sports in high school and was fairly comfortable disrobing for medical purposes and then there had been his three week stint as a nude model for the art class during his second semester. He was generally comfortable in his own skin these days.
He knew Dean, on the other hand, had never been one for team sports and had always been shy when they had had to dress out in gym. Sam knew for a fact that Dean was uncomfortable as hell with doctors. Ever since his brother was sixteen, he had been griping about old pervert’s grabby hands and nurses that were nowhere near hot enough and gave him the creeps.
Sam had pulled his clothes back on and was sitting on the table, one knee bent as he balanced it against the frame.
“Well Mr. Winchester,” Dr. Sway, a peppered haired man, said as he entered the room. “Everything looks fine for you and your brother. He is waiting out in the hall for you.”
“Okay.” Sam smiled, feeling the mask he often wore when speaking to others slip into place. “Thank you, Doctor.” He hopped off the table and moved to the door but the voice of the other man stopped him.
“Mr. Winchester, I have a few more questions for you regarding your brother and the further treatment he’s received for his leg. I tried asking him but he refused to answer.”
Sam turned back to Dr. Sway, confusion clearly written across his face. “There’s nothing wrong with my brother’s leg.” Dean was fine; he had been fine ever since Sam had gotten back.
Dr. Sway studied him before explaining to Sam slowly, “According to your brother’s files, last year he was in an accident and his left leg was shattered. He had two surgeries and couldn’t walk for a few weeks. For over a month he had to use a cane.” The doctor stopped, seeming surprised. “You didn’t know this?”
Sam swallowed what he really wanted to say, knowing his face was pale and he tried to slip the smile back on his lips, to pull the mask back over his face. “No. I was away at school. Dean and my dad handled all that.” The smile was there but it was brittle and Sam inclined his head to the doctor. “I have to go. Thank you for all your help.”
He left before the man could say anymore and walked down the hallway, seeing Dean at the nurses’ station. His brother was grinning brightly, leaning against the counter, his eyes sparkling as he told the pretty blonde nurse something. She was staring up at him intently and all Sam could do was look at his brother and remember the call he had gotten from Dean over a year ago.
Sam had ignored any calls from his family for over a year and those calls had dwindled down. But one day, he had gotten two calls from Dean, and even one from his Dad, who had never called at all, and Dean had even left a message that Sam had deleted before listening to.
He had still been angry at his brother.
Dean spotted Sam and trailed off mid-sentence, his grin now directed at his brother. “Hey, what took so long?” Before Sam could answer, Dean was off again. “I told you we were fine.” He turned back to the nurse. “I swear people never believe me these days, you know?”
She blushed, clearly buying into what Sam had seen Dean do with girl after girl in each new town and Sam let a small smile touch his lips as he told his brother, “We should go.” Sam started walking and he didn’t hear what Dean said to the nurse, all he knew was Dean caught up with him, his grin still in place and his eyes light and happy. “So what took you so long?” he repeated, his attention now on Sam.
Sam shook his head. “Nothing, just some extra paperwork.” And though his brother was fine, the guilt clawed at his gut and he wanted to bury his fist in the wall or something for the stupidity that anger at his dad had led to, but Dean was fine. He was walking, he wasn’t in pain.
Sam would hold onto that however long he could and ignore the fact that while Dean had always been there when he needed him, Sam had failed to be there for his brother the one time that Dean had brought himself to needing him.
