Artemis
Title: Artemis
Author: 27_jaredjensen
Characters/pairings: Sam/Dean
Word count: 2, 600
Warnings: Implied incest, bad language, death of a pet
Summary: Written for the ohsam comment fic meme for the prompt at the end.
A/N: Miss you, puppy.
:::
Rain falls hard the night they dig the grave.
It’s the first time they ever leave the salt and lighter fluid in the Impala. Sam holds her body, curls his upper half around her to keep her dry while Dean shovels mud as fast as he can with his bad shoulder.
They lay her in the ground, wrapped up in a blanket with her favorite toy, and Sam takes over the shovel to fill in the hole. As he does, Dean carefully scans the surrounding area out of habit. There isn’t anybody around for miles.
Lightning flashes in the distance as Sam finishes, causing him to flinch a little, and he drags a sleeve across his face, stopping halfway through when he realizes every inch of him is soaking wet. They walk back to the car without speaking a word.
They’ve already said their goodbyes.
:::
“I hate winter. It’s too fucking cold outside.”
“Complaint Jar, Dean.”
Dean jumps at the sound of Sam’s voice and spins around to face his brother, who’s in the doorway pulling his coat off. He squats down to unclip Artemis’ leash from her collar, and she shakes out her fur before trotting into the kitchen. Sam smiles and sets to work cleaning up the mess of water in the entryway.
“I hate the Complaint Jar too,” Dean mumbles under his breath as he trudges into the kitchen after the dog. Sam will know if he doesn’t actually put money in the jar, so he digs around in his pockets before hoisting himself up onto one of the bar stools.
There are two jars on the counter; a small glass peanut butter jar that Sam calls the Vacation Jar, and a giant jug filled a third of a way with silver coins. Dean reaches for the latter and drops in his quarter before dumping the rest of his change from his pockets into the Vacation Jar. Sam started both about a month after they’d settled in. I’m tired of hearing you whine all the time, Sam had said, And besides, we have nothing to complain about.
Dean kind of thinks they have the most to complain about out of everyone on the entire fucking planet, but he’s not going to argue with Sam on that point.
“One day we’ll have a complaint-free household,” Sam says with a grin as he comes into the kitchen and once again startles Dean. Kid’s still like a ninja without even trying.
“Where did you even come up with the idea that I have a bunch of spare quarters lying around, huh?”
Sam rolls his eyes and coughs into his fist, and that’s when Dean realizes Sam’s in wet clothes and he’s shivering.
“Go change, Sammy. Is it really still raining outside?”
“Yep. And I just want to grab a cup of coffee first.”
“Go change, I’ll make coffee.”
Sam looks down at his hands, then nods and heads upstairs to change. Dean hears him coughing again, so he switches the coffee pot off and puts a kettle of water on the stove instead. Then he plops back down onto his stool and reaches up to dig his fingers into his right shoulder, scowling at the thought of more rain. Damn weather’s making his joints hurt like a bitch.
Sam comes back down in jeans and a sweatshirt, yawning as he joins Dean at the counter.
“Where’s Artemis?” He asks, scanning the floor near her water bowl, but before Dean can reply the kettle begins to whistle and Sam startles badly, jumping nearly a foot into the air and barely catching himself before he falls off his seat.
“Whoa, easy,” Dean soothes, giving the back of Sam’s neck a squeeze before hurrying over to the stove. He busies himself with making tea long enough for Sam to compose himself, but when he turns around Sam’s cheeks are pink and his eyes are squeezed shut. Dean sighs, then carries the mugs out to the living room before returning and wrapping an arm around Sam’s shoulders.
“Come on. Let’s go watch Jeopardy.”
Sam opens his eyes and lets Dean lead him to the couch. He wraps his hands around the mug of tea that Dean hands him, and when he starts coughing again halfway through Wheel of Fortune Dean turns the TV off and pats him on the chest.
“I don’t like the sound of that cough. Come on, time for bed.”
Dean grabs their cups and takes them to the kitchen, then goes to the back door, where Artemis is asleep, curled up on the doormat. He lets her out, waits for her to come back in, and then dries off her paws before locking the door. She settles back down on the doormat instead of her bed a few feet away, and Dean gives her a scratch behind the ears and turns off the light before heading back to the living room.
Sam again lets Dean maneuver him through the house, but he doesn’t say a single word as they brush their teeth side by side in the bathroom and crawl into bed together. They fall asleep to the sound of the rain outside.
:::
“What are they doing over there?”
Sam presses his hand to his forehead and wills his pounding headache to disappear, but it only seems to grow with the crescendo of music coming from next door. It’s a Saturday night, and from the sounds of things their neighbors are throwing one hell of a party.
Artemis’ tail thumps on the carpet, and the Beagle lifts her head and tilts it to the side with a soft whimper. Sam smiles. He doesn’t expect the dog to answer, obviously, and he’s just talking out loud to himself, so he’s startled when he hears a voice coming from the doorway.
“I already asked them to shut the hell up once.” Dean’s voice is low, quiet, but Sam can hear the anger. He sits up and looks at Dean over the top of the couch.
“It’s fine, Dean,” he says slowly, his voice already growing hoarse from the cold he’s been fighting for the past couple of days. He wants to cough, clear his throat of the lingering tickle there, but he doesn’t want to draw any attention to his illness when Dean’s in this mood. It’s already bad enough that he has a headache at the exact same time the neighbors are having a party; the minute Dean saw Sam rubbing his temples he broke out the Tylenol and forced him onto the couch to rest.
“Sam, it’s not fine. It’s ridiculous. Why does their music have to be that loud?”
Sam has to laugh at that.
“They’re just kids, old man.”
The laugh, unfortunately, sets off a round of coughing, but Dean’s too worked up to notice.
“I’m going to go over there and-”
“Dean!” Sam sighs from the couch. “Stop.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and swallows hard as the pounding in his ears grows louder. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and he feels Dean sink down beside him. He moves his hand to the hair at the base of Sam’s neck, and Sam sags against him, suddenly exhausted.
“When did you last take your cough syrup?” Dean asks, and Sam turns so that his head is resting on Dean’s chest.
“About an hour ago,” Sam answers before giving a soft moan. He doesn’t even care that he’s going to fall asleep drooling against Dean’s chest in five seconds, his hands are doing marvelous things to his shoulders. He’s nearly asleep when something cold and wet brushes his hand, and he blinks down to see wide puppy dog eyes staring back at him.
“Arty wants some attention too,” Dean chuckles, patting the couch beside him. “Come here, girl!”
Artemis jumps up and wriggles her way between them, licking at Dean’s hands until he stops massaging Sam’s shoulders.
“Sorry, Sammy. Looks like your time is up.”
Sam smiles and reaches up to pet at the dog’s fur as Dean rubs the top of her head. Suddenly, Sam sits up, frowning as he presses his fingers to Artemis’ hind leg.
“It feels like there’s a…lump, or something. Right here.” He takes Dean’s hand and guides it to the spot, and Dean frowns as well.
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?” Sam’s eyes are full of fear when Dean looks up at him.
“I’ll take her to the vet tomorrow, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Why don’t you go upstairs and try to get to sleep early?”
Sam nods, though even without the music still coming from next door he won’t be able to sleep now.
“Feel better. I’ll be up in a little bit.”
Sam makes his way to the bedroom, but he pauses at the top of the stairs and catches a glimpse of Dean opening his laptop and turning it on, and it’s several more hours before he crawls into bed to join Sam.
:::
Mast cell tumor.
That’s the diagnosis from the veterinarian, and, after the lump grows twice its size in as many days, they learn that it’s aggressively malignant.
“You were lucky to have caught it when you did,” the doctor tells them, but they don’t feel lucky at all. “There’s a chance Artemis here will live several more years. There’s also a chance this could continue to get worse. We’ll have to see how it progresses over the next week and go from there.”
Sam’s quiet on the ride back, eyes glue to the road in front of them, and he curls up in bed under the covers when they get home, coughing softly into his pillow.
Dean rubs his back and lets Artemis on the bed to curl up at Sam’s feet.
“I’m sorry you don’t feel good right now,” he tells Sam, moving his fingers through Sam’s hair. “This really sucks.”
Sam pretends to be asleep. Dean pulls of his clothes and wraps himself around his brother and prays that for once, they won’t have to lose someone too early.
:::
Dean wakes to the motion of the bed rocking and he immediately knows that something’s wrong. There’s a low moan, and he feels Sam moving beside him, thrashing around. He turns on the lamp on the nightstand to see Sam in the throes of a nightmare, cries for help on his lips and sweat covering his body. The second Dean puts a hand on his shoulder, she shoots upright, gasping for air and flinching away. He’s trembling so hard that the bed is shaking, and Artemis sits at the end of the bed and whimpers.
“Shh, shh. Sammy, it’s just me.” Dean reaches out again, and this time Sam lets him squeeze the back of his neck. He’s panting hard. He’s tense, but after a few seconds he sags against Dean, silent tears falling down his face.
“Just a dream,” Dean whispers, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “Not real.”
“Felt real,” Sam chokes out. “He…”
Sam doesn’t get anything else out, but he doesn’t have to say any more for Dean to know who he’s talking about. There’s a soft whimper, and Artemis noses forward until she’s wedged between them. She licks Sam’s cheek, then curls up with her head under his chin. He pats her back and plays with one of her ears, sniffling.
“I’m gonna miss you,” he whispers, so softly that Dean barely hears him.
“Hey,” he says, brushing the hair from Sam’s face and waiting until he meets his eyes. “She’s a Winchester. She’s a fighter. There’s still a chance she’ll pull through this, okay?”
Sam’s eyes are sad. He leans down and kisses the top of Artemis’ muzzle.
“Okay?”
Sam nods and clears his throat. “Okay.”
“Okay. Jesus, I’m tired. Give me back my half of the covers, I’m cold.” Dean scoots closer to Sam and gives him a small smile, and to his surprise Sam smiles back, voice shaking slightly.
“That’s fifty cents to the Complaint Jar.”
:::
“Remember how we got Artemis?”
Sam’s wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, dark circles under wide eyes. His voice is quiet and he’s picking at the seams of the cushions. Artemis lies in the corner of the room, her leg bandaged.
“Yeah, Sammy. I do.” Dean smiles. “She was so tiny.” Sam looks up at him expectantly, so Dean sits next to him on the couch and continues. “I was so pissed when she came barking at the door. I think I lost five bucks to the Jar that first week.”
He reaches over and tugs Sam until he’s lying down, head in Dean’s lap.
“You had her trained in less than a month, and she scared the damn cat from next door away for good.”
Sam nods against his leg, smiling lighting up his face at the memories. Dean runs his fingers through his hair and looks over at Artemis.
“She would have made a great hunter.”
:::
Dean wakes to a dull ache in his shoulder and the prickling feeling of near-numbness in his fingertips. He tries to squeeze his hand into a fist but it doesn’t obey. It takes him a second to realize that Sam isn’t in the bed next to him, and he sits up, rubbing his eyes and squinting into darkness.
He finds Sam downstairs, sitting cross-legged on the floor by the back door, back to him. He sniffles, whispers something that Dean can’t make out, and Dean realizes he’s talking to Artemis. He flips on the light and makes his way over, making plenty of noise, but Sam still flinches hard at the hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, shh. Just me.” Dean lowers himself to the ground facing Sam and starts to massage his aching shoulder. “What are the two of you up to?”
Artemis doesn’t even stir at his voice, and Sam sniffles and stares at his lap.
“I think it’s time,” he finally says, after several minutes. He swallows hard before continuing, his voice thick with emotion. “She…it doesn’t seem like she’s in any physical pain, but she isn’t herself. She’s not eating, not doing anything, and…look at her eyes, Dean.” Sam hiccups into a sob, and Dean leans forward and gathers him in his arms. He knows exactly what Sam’s talking about, the way their dog seems like she’s already gone, eyes dull and eerily lifeless. It’s heartbreaking.
Dean hugs his brother until both of their tears die down, and then they say goodbye to Artemis, each giving her a kiss on the top of her head and a scratch behind her ears.
“I’ll call the vet tomorrow,” Dean whispers, and Sam nods, fresh tears pouring from his eyes.
Dean brushes the wetness from Sam’s face with his fingertips and takes his face in both hands, leaning forward until their foreheads are pressed together. Sam brings the hand not still petting Artemis and wraps it around the back of Dean’s neck, and together they sit, listening as the pouring rain dies down to a sprinkle and spending their last night together with their beloved friend, holding each other tight.
:::
Prompt: Basically, I want Sam and Dean settled, damaged but living a life, and I want Sam to suffer a completely normal loss: the (ordinary, not supernatural, non-violent) death of a loved pet. And it affects Sam a lot more than you might expect, maybe because there have been so many other losses that he never really had time to process. Dean is awesome and comforting in his own prickly, Dean way; some of the isolation from each other they've undergone in earlier, larger losses gets healed.