Fic: Food, Glorious Food
Title: Food, Glorious Food
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters …
Rating: PG
Category: Supernatural. Hurt/Comfort/General
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 4300
Summary: Two brothers. One case of food poisoning.
Chapter 1
The Impala slowly pulled into the gas station just after dark. They’d been driving since early that morning, and Dean could feel the kink in this neck pop as he rotated his head from side to side. He quietly opened the door and slid from the car, determined not to wake Sam. Sam had gotten pretty bruised up on their last gig, and Dean reckoned he could do with the extra rest.
Sam continued to sleep as he filled up the car. He could see the small cloud of condensation on the passenger side window from Sam’s deep breathing. Sam had been in a deep sleep for an hour or so, and Dean didn’t want to wake him unnecessarily. Once the gas tank was full, he went inside to pay.
He picked up a couple of chocolate bars, packet of chips, and a couple of cans of soda to go. If Sam kept on sleeping, he thought, it may be a while before they’d stop for the night.
Quickly returning to the car, Dean was pleased to see Sam still sleeping soundly. Just as Dean put the key in the ignition, an old beat up truck filled with noisy teenagers pulled to a stop beside them. Yelling, squealing and banging doors quickly followed. He glanced over at a sleeping Sam, just in time to watch his startled jolt to wakefulness.
Great, he thought. All that effort to let him sleep wasted.
“Where are we?” asked Sam in a voice still laden with sleep. Sam rubbed the sleep from his eyes and attempted to stretch his legs in the confined space.
Dean looked over at Sam. “Some little excuse for a town that probably doesn’t justify a name on a map.”
Sam checked at his watch. “Wanna find a motel and grab something to eat?”
Dean took a fleeting glance at the packet of chips and chocolate bar and instead visualised a juicy burger with a side of fries. Yeah, stopping for the night sounded great.
“I’ll pull in at the next motel” he told Sam.
The next motel was only 5 more minutes down the road. Obviously not a popular holiday spot, they had no difficulty in acquiring a room. Dean asked for the room at the end of the row, hoping it would offer not just more privacy, but less noise as well.
Dean moved the car to park directly in front of the room.
“Let’s dump the gear inside and go grab some food” Dean said.
They both grabbed their duffles and a few other supples from the trunk and let themselves in to the room. It was actually better on the inside that it presented from the exterior. Two single beds in a surprisingly large room. Table, a couple of chairs, and a decent size TV on the dresser completed the sparse furnishings. The room was decorated in neutral tones, which although had obviously seen better days, was a nice change from some of the “themed” rooms they’d had to recently endure.
They didn’t waste anytime unpacking. It felt like hours since they’d had anything to eat, and both were eager for a solid meal.
On exiting the room, they looked up and down the street. This really was a one-street hick town. Dean looked at the diner a few doors down across the street, advertising burgers in a tacky flashing neon sign. Sam looked at the café a bit further down, noticing it’s chalkboard outside, but unable to read the “specials” from across the street.
Dean headed off across the street, giving a distracted glance behind to ensure that Sam was following. Noticing Dean heading straight for the diner, Sam jogged up beside him to point out the café just a few doors down.
“Hey Dean, how about we try the cafe?”
Dean stopped in front of the diner and glanced at the café a couple of doors down.
“I’m not eating somewhere that has a lentil burger on the specials menu. God, it probably comes with tofu fries on the side or something.”
“Actually Dean, tofu …”
“Sam” interrupted Dean, “I don’t want to know.”
“You know Dean, it wouldn’t hurt you every once and a while to eat something that hasn’t been immersed in a vat of hot oil.”
“Yeah, well when I grow a tail and floppy ears, then I’ll start eating the rabbit food.”
It was obvious to Dean that Sam really wanted to eat at the café, but seriously, even as hungry as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to eat that crap. God, he was salivating in anticipation of a juicy burger, maybe with bacon and extra cheese, oh yeah, and a side serve of thick cut fries smothered in ketchup.
“Hey Sam, how about we get food to go. We can just as easily eat back at the room. I’ll just grab something from the diner and you can get some of that vegetarian crap from the café.”
“Yeah okay” replied Sam. Well, maybe he hadn’t gotten Dean to order some real food, but at least he could grab a decent feed for a change.
The brothers separated, each going to order their respective food.
Dean was starving, and the aroma inside the diner had him just about drooling. He hadn’t had a decent burger in nearly a week. Fortunately, there wasn’t much of a wait, and he was walking out of the diner 10 minutes later with a beef burger with bacon, cheese and extra onions, plus a serve of fries and a bottle of soda. He headed down to the café, wondering what was taking Sam so long. Hell, they didn’t need to cook lettuce, did they?
Dean saw Sam at the counter, collecting his food. Great, he thought. He hadn’t wanted to wait around for Sam whilst his burger got cold. Yeah, who was he kidding, there was no way he was going to wait on Sam, not with a full bag of food begging to be eaten.
The brothers, food in hand, headed back to their room for dinner.
Sam sat opposite Dean at the small laminated table, watching him eat in disgust. If he hadn’t been so hungry himself, he was sure that Dean’s eating habits would have turned him off his own food. Dean had a mouth full of burger, was shovelling in chips, and still managed to drink from the full bottle of soda. There’d definitely be backwash in the bottle, he thought, glad he’d purchased his own drink.
After he’d finished, Dean lent back in his chair and rested his hands on his stomach, rubbing contentedly. All he wanted now was a long hot shower and a soft bed. He was too tired to hit the town tonight, not, he thought, that this town was likely to have any night life. He watched as Sam continued to eat his meal with quiet precision.
“Hey Sammy, what exactly is that you’re eating? It looks err …interesting”
“Lentil burger and salad.”
Dean grimaced. “I’m gonna hit the shower while you finish that … whatever that is. Really man, have you looked at what you’re eating?”
“Don’t use all the hot water” was the only reply he got.
A little while later, Sam lay down on his bed, and sighed contentedly. He looked across at Dean who was stretched out on the bed opposite, watching some old black and white movie on TV. They’d just finished their last hunt, and hadn’t anything new lined up yet. So, a good feed, hot shower and night in watching TV sounded like heaven to Sam. “Hey Dean, turn up the volume a bit” he said, and settled back to watch the movie.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
He woke up when it was still dark. He looked across to the luminated bedside alarm clock and swore when he realised it was actually the middle of the night. His brother was snoring softly in the next bed, arm thrown over the side of the mattress, hanging limply towards the floor.
He wondered what had woken him. Everything seemed still and quiet. Suddenly his stomach gave an uncomfortable roll. He felt slightly nauseous, the food in his stomach resting uncomfortably.
Without warning his stomach was clenching, cramping, clawing; eager to move the contents contained within. He took a deep breath, silently willing the cramping to stop.
He moved himself up to a sitting position, propping his head against the wall behind the bed, hoping this would alleviate the sick sensation. The nausea rose with him. He could feel the bile rising in his throat, and knew he was powerless to stop it. As quietly as he could, he fled from the bed, racing to the waiting bathroom.
Chapter 2
He slumped on the floor next to the toilet, afraid that if he moved away, he mightn’t make it back in time. Not that he could possibly have anything left to throw up.
After the mad race from his bed to the bathroom, he’d only just reached the toilet before he’d started to heave. Thank god he and Sam always left the seat up - they’d have been no way he could have had the time to flip the lid. Now, after what felt like hours of heaving, but was actually only minutes, he felt completely depleted. He rested his head back on the cool tiled wall, breathing deeply. After a few more moments he felt secure in the knowledge that the nausea had passed.
Dean stood up slowly, using the sink for support. He rinsed his mouth out and splashed his face with cold water. Yeah, he felt better. He quickly flushed the toilet, eager to rid the small room of the pungent smell. He looked around the small bathroom, checking that he’s left behind no evidence that he’d been sick.
Quietly, he exited the bathroom and crept silently back to bed. Glancing across the room, he was reassured to see that Sam was still snoring softly. Relieved that Sam wouldn’t know he’d been sick, Dean swiftly fell into a light slumber.
It could have been hours or only minutes later that Dean was jolted awake. He noted it was still dark, but didn’t have sufficient time to look at the clock before he bolted from the bed, speeding again to the small bathroom. He kicked the door gently shut before slumping to his knees on the cold tiled floor. He leant over the toilet bowl and heaved. He was surprised he had anything left in his stomach. His gut rolled again, and he leant over the bowl for another round.
He knew when it was over. His stomach had settled and his breathing returned to normal. A fine sheen of sweat clung to his forehead and he distractedly wiped his hand across his brow. For the second time that night, he rose unsteadily to his feet, body leaning heavily on the bathroom sink. The nausea might be over, he thought, but his stomach muscles ached from the furious rounds of vomiting. His throat felt raw and he was in serious need of a mouth rinse. Splashing some cold water over his face made him feel instantly improved. Hastily he rinsed his mouth and took a tentative sip of water. After waiting a few moments to ensure the water was going to stay down, he leant his face under the faucet and drank thirstily.
He flushed the toilet and crept back to his bed.
“You okay?” Sam asked sleepily from the bed next to him.
“Yeah, just taking a leak. Go back to sleep” he replied in a convincing whisper.
Dean rolled onto his stomach and concentrated on taking deep breaths, willing his body to relax. God, he was exhausted. A few rounds with the porcelain goddess had really taken its toll. He needed to grab a couple of hours of solid sleep.
Dean fell into a fitful slumber, only to be woken again just as dawn was breaking. He didn’t even hesitate when he woke up to the now familiar feeling of vomit rising in this throat. Eyes half closed, he quickly stumbled to the bathroom. He thanked God that he’d woken up before Sam, and the bathroom was free.
He hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as the last couple of times, but he was wrong. It was almost worse to vomit with a nearly empty stomach as it was when it was full. The vomiting quickly changed to a round of dry heaving. He tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to alert Sam to his predicament.
As soon as he had a break between heaves, he turned the shower on to mask the sounds. A few minutes later he flushed the offending sight away, and shed his t-shirt and boxers. Stepping into the warm shower, he felt at once soothed and refreshed under the spray of water. He leant his head against the tiles and let the water cascade over his tired shoulder muscles. He ached all over. There was a dull throb in his head and he used his hands to massage his temples.
He knew he had to get out of the shower before Sam woke up and wondered what was taking Sam so long. He turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping a towel around himself. After quickly brushing his teeth, he went back into the bedroom.
It was obvious that Sam had only just woken up. He was stretching in bed, looking around groggily.
Sam watched sleepily as Dean dug around in his bag for some clean clothes.
“Give me time to jump through the shower, and we’ll go grab some breakfast” Sam said whilst battling his sheets to rise from the bed. He grabbed some clothes before heading towards the bathroom.
“Okay” Dean answered, striving to sound convincingly normal.
It was over, Dean told himself. Surely, there was nothing left in his stomach. This however didn’t solve the breakfast problem. Really, he just wasn’t ready to face food so soon.
Dean quickly gathered their belongings and packed their bags, settling them down on the end of the bed closest to the door.
“Thought we might as well make an early start and grab something to eat once we hit the road” Dean said as soon as Sam came out of the bathroom and saw their packed bags.
Dean grabbed the car keys to go and start loading their gear in the car.
“What’s the rush?” asked Sam
“Nothing to keep us here” replied Dean on his way out the door.
A few minutes later they had checked out of their room and were heading down the highway towards the next small town. Sam looked at Dean intently, sensing that there was something not quite right going on, but unable to ascertain exactly what.
“Dude, quit staring,” snapped Dean without turning his head.
Sam turned his head to look out the front windscreen, determined to continue to watch Dean, but more discretely.
He continued to surreptitiously glance at Dean from the corner of his eye. Yeah, something was up with his brother, but he knew he’d probably had to wait until Dean chose to tell him.
They were only about half an hour into the trip when Dean started to second guess his decision to hit the road. His stomach was churning again. Worse still, his bowels were also making their presence known. He wished they were still back in the hotel room and for once, didn’t enjoy the comfort of the confined space in the Impala. He opened his window, hoping the morning breeze would whisk away his nausea.
A few minutes later, he pulled the car to a stop in front of a dingy diner, the fresh paint unable to disguise its age or state of disrepair.
“Grab me a coffee” he told Sam. “Gotta take a leak”.
Dean moved as quickly as he could, without hitting a run. He followed the sign to the back of the diner and found the squalid excuse for a toilet. He didn’t care. He dashed into the room, locking the door behind him. Unfortunately, he didn’t know whether he wanted to shit or hurl first.
It was nearly 10 minutes later that Dean slowly made his way back towards the car. Hopefully this wasn’t another false start. He’d tried twice already to leave the bathroom, only to be pulled back in for another round with the porcelain goddess.
Sam was leaning against the Impala, sipping from his coffee. Dean could see his coffee, now probably luke warm, resting on the hood of the car. Sam was eyeing him suspiciously as he approached the car.
Dean grabbed his coffee. “Thanks” he said before climbing into the driver’s seat, refusing to initiate any further conversation with Sam.
They’d only been driving for a few minutes, and Sam had been looking at Dean the whole time.
“You sick?” he finally questioned.
Dean wasn’t sure how to answer. He didn’t want to give Sam months of ammunition to throw back in his face, but he didn’t think he be able to hide being sick from Sam for much longer, especially if he had to go another round with the toilet. Really, he felt like crap, and just wanted to find another motel room and stay put for the day, within easy reach of a bathroom.
He compromised. “Might be coming down with a virus or something” he said, knowing full well it was that burger last night that was causing his distress.
Sam continued to look closely at Dean, assessing his health. He raised a hand and placed it on Dean’s forehead.
“Dude, get off me” Dean said, slapping his hand away.
“You don’t seem to be running a fever” said Sam. “You sure it’s a virus?”
“Dude how would I know. Does it look like I’m wearing a stethoscope?”
“Dean, maybe you should…” started Sam
“Sam” Dean interrupted quickly, “Let’s stop here for the day”.
Now Sam was getting worried. Dean hadn’t drunk his morning coffee, and that never happened, and now he wanted to stop after being on the road for less than an hour. Obviously Dean was feeling much worse than he was letting on.
Dean didn’t really care what Sam thought or said anymore. He could feel the warning signs of another bout of sickness, and god only knows what, starting again. He didn’t want to disgrace himself in front of Sam., or in public. He pulled up outside the motel and urgently ran to get them a room. He paid cash for the room on the end of the row, uninterested in haggling, or waiting for a credit card to be processed. Grabbing the room key, he yelled out the room number to Sam, tossing him the keys to the Impala. Dean jogged through the motel car park and hastily let himself into the room.
Sam parked the car and followed Dean into the room a couple of minutes later. He entered to the sound of retching from behind the closed bathroom door. Yeah, Dean was sick. He went back out to the car and grabbed their bags; they might be staying a few days.
Chapter 3
Sam switched on the TV to cloak the sounds coming from the bathroom. He’d vaguely thought he’d heard Dean being sick last night, and now this confirmed it. He was pretty sure he knew what was wrong, but didn’t want to jump to conclusions in case it was something more serious.
Dean was in the bathroom for about half an hour. When he finally decided to join the land of the living he could do little more than drag his heavy body to the bed. He didn’t care what Sam said, he just wanted to die. He’d take Sam’s smirks and ridicule for the next year if it would make this nightmare end.
He was never going to eat again.
Dean lay flat on his back on the bed, eyes closed, face pale and clammy.
“Can I get you anything? Sam asked sincerely
“God no” replied Dean “Let me die in peace”.
Sam couldn’t stop a smirk from escaping. “We haven’t had breakfast yet.” he said “I could go down the street and pick up a couple of bacon and egg burgers and some more coffee if you’d like.”
Dean dashed to the bathroom again, this time slamming the door in his wake.
Sam knew how his brother was feeling. This wasn’t the first time either of them had had a case of food poisoning. Hell, with the places they ate in, it was surprising really that they didn’t get sick more often.
After a few minutes of listening to the sounds coming from the bathroom that Dean was no longer trying to disguise, Sam jotted down a quick note to Dean and left the room. He needed to pick up some supplies for the next day or so.
An hour later, after having eaten some breakfast and loaded with a few items from the drug store, a supply of electrolyte drinks and dry crackers for Dean, Sam quietly let himself back into the room. Dean was lying face down on the bed, obviously exhausted. Sam placed his purchases on the table and crept over to the bed, checking to make sure that Dean was only sleeping. He then gently removed Dean’s shoes, and covered him with a blanket.
Opening up his laptop, Sam settled down at the table to surf the web, looking for their next gig. Might as well use this down time constructively, he thought.
Dean slept restlessly until lunchtime. Sam had been checking on him regularly, ensuring that he didn’t have a fever. This time, Sam was looking across at the bed when Dean opened his eyes and saw him staring.
“God, kill me now” he mumbled.
Sam couldn’t keep his grin to himself, regardless of how bad he felt for Dean. Shit, he knew that if their positions were reversed, Dean would be cracking jokes relentlessly at his expense.
“Hey Dean” he said “I picked you up a burger and fries for lunch, knowing how much you love them. Of course, the fries have gone a bit soggy and the burgers a bit cold, but if you wash it down with some warm cola I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Dean groaned. “I hate you.”
Sam just laughed. “Seriously man” he said “how’re you feeling?’
“Like, maybe I should just move my mattress into the bathroom and stay there until the gremlins inside me find a new place to live.”
“Bet you wish you’d tried the lentil burger” Sam couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a little teasing.
“Yeah Sammy, don’t you know it” Dean said, slowly making his way once more to the bathroom.
Dean grabbed a towel off the rack and placed it on the floor near the toilet. He been in this position too much lately, and his knees were staring to hurt. He knelt down slowly on the towel, and lent his head over the bowl just before the first heave hit him. He wrapped his arm around his stomach, willing it to let its contents up gently. His muscles clenched with each heave, until exhausted, it finally ended. He remained in that position for a few more moments, gathering the strength to move.
Turning, he put the plug in the bath, and started filling the tub with warm water. Yeah, a good hot soak would make him feel much better.
Sam heard the bath running, glad that the heaving had finally come to a stop. As much as he enjoyed making fun of Dean’s predicament, he didn't need to use his imagination to know how poorly he felt. Sam filled the kettle at the small kitchen sink and put it on to boil. He then poured some of the electrolyte drink into a glass and placed it on the bedside table near Dean’s bed, with the packet of dry crackers.
When the kettle had finally boiled, he filled the new hot water bottle that he’d purchased this morning and placed it in Dean’s bed. He knew Dean’s stomach muscles had to be aching from all the retching.
Sam then went over to the bathroom door and knocked gently.
“Dean, you okay?” he asked.
“I’m still alive, if that’s what you’re asking” was Dean’s sarcastic reply.
Fifteen minutes later, Dean dragged himself from the now tepid water. He grabbed a clean towel, wrapping it around his waist, before heading tentatively back into the bedroom. He looked at Sam who was working on his laptop, before making his way over to his bag and pulling on a clean pair of boxers and t-shirt. He sat on the side of the bed, and took a small sip of the drink Sam had left there for him. Exhausted, he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed.
Dean smiled when he felt the warm hot water bottle nestled in the centre of the bed. He grabbed it and pulled it into himself, hugging it to his stomach.
“Thanks Sammy” he whispered, closing his eyes.
Sam smiled.
THE END