Healing Hands (SPN, PG)
I haven't written anything in a while that wasn't a long wip I'm not yet ready to share, but I scribbled this down over the Christmas break while lounging around at the coast (too cold to swim, unfortunately) and in response to a prompt from turquoisetumult. I think this is the first time I've written Dean h/c, so I hope the experiment is okay. Toodles, Lizzie. &hearts
Title: Healing Hands
Author: starrylizard
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean/Lisa, Ben, Sam (Ruby in passing)
Rating: PG
Genre: Hurt/comfort
Spoilers: mentions S4 and set in S4, but nothing really specific
Comments: For turquoisetumult who said on her Christmas wish list I always liked the Dean/Lisa(+Ben) relationship from Supernatural. Would someone like to write a fic for me (I'd like to have it involve Lisa and/or Ben, but it can simply be Dean talking about them to Sam). Thanks to rinkle for the beta! :)
The rumble of the Impala hurt; its deep-seated growl making the pain reverberate through bone and muscle and sinew. Dean heard someone moan, and then his brother’s voice, low and sad. “You’ll be all right, Dean. The antidote will kick in soon.” Dean managed to open his eyes a sliver, enough to see Sam leaning in to check the wounds in his side, before the light and movement became too much and he slammed them shut again. This time he recognised the moan that followed as his own.
“Sam?” Dean croaked.
“Yeah, Dean?”
“Sam. Who’s driving?”
Sam coughed. “I wanted to stay with you.”
“Sam? Is Ruby driving m’ car?” Dean managed to slit his eyes open again, doing his best to frown up at Sam. Sam who was trying not to grin with relief as he reached one large hand down to lightly pat Dean’s face.
“I think it’s working, Ruby,” Sam stated and received only a grumbled response from the driver.
Dean frowned again and tried to lift a hand to smack Sam’s away from his face, but his arms felt too heavy and his eyelids were drooping shut again. He felt Sam’s hand move from his face and land on his chest, right over his heart, patting several small thumps.
“Sleep, Dean. We’re almost there.”
Dean wanted to ask where there was, but his body felt so heavy, his eyes refused to open and he gave up the battle. Wherever they were going, Sam wouldn’t go there if it wasn’t safe and if it had a bed… As he phased in and out, he could hear his brother murmuring to Ruby, felt the rumble of the Impala as a comfort now; the pain receded to an unnatural numbness of heavy limbs and a tingling pins and needles feeling. It was a sweet relief he wasn’t about to fight.
ooo
He woke again when they jostled him from the car. He must have been out for a while, because it was night time and the cool evening air felt strange against his numbed skin.
Dean assumed it was Sam and Ruby who carried him - strong hands under his arms, around his shoulders and under his legs in a sort of fire-man’s carry that he was sure was less than dignified. There was someone else though, a warm touch feeling his head and stroking his hand briefly as he was carried inside. A familiar voice that told Sam and Ruby to hurry before the neighbours became curious.
“Gumby girl,” he whispered and heard Sam muffle a laugh behind a cough.
ooo
A warm hand patted his chest. “We’ll be back before you miss us.” Sam.
ooo
He was warm, AC/DC played softly off to one side and, when he cracked his eyes open, a small hand was running a toy car across a flower-patterned duvet. When the car touched his skin it tickled slightly. Dean slid back to sleep on a sigh.
ooo
“Hey sleepyhead.” A cool hand patted at Dean’s face. He grumbled, shifting, the fiery torments of Hell flashing behind his eyes.
“No, won’t!” Dean muttered.
A hand stroked through his hair, shifting some of the tension that wracked his body. He turned his face into the touch and settled back into the darkness, his mind stretching toward consciousness.
ooo
“Come on, Dean. You’re scaring me here.” The voice was gentle concern; that voice mothers instinctively master early on.
Dean was awake, eyes suddenly darting around the unfamiliar surroundings - no twin beds, no dingy hotel curtains and cigarette stains - as he struggled to sit up.
“Dean, hey?”
Dean turned enough to focus on the figure above him. Long dark hair, perfect teeth that nibbled at her bottom lip and carefully manicured eyebrows turned down in concern.
“Lisa?”
“Oh, thank God! You scared me half to death. Sam said you’d be in and out, but really I was beginning to wonder. I mean…”
“Mom. Is Dean okay?”
Dean took stock, resting back on his elbows. He hurt, the pain a sharp fire in his side where Sam had patched him up on the run. But he could feel; the weird numbness inspired by Ruby’s antidote was now gone, along with the poison’s effects. His eyes no longer hurt in the dim light of the room. All in all, he was pretty okay.
“Yeah, Ben. I’m okay,” he answered.
Ben stood at his mother’s side, eyes a little more serious than Dean remembered them. Lisa’s hand stroked through her son’s hair and kept coming back despite the way Ben deliberately squirmed, embarrassed in front of Dean. “Mo-om,” he finally huffed and took a step closer to the bed.
“I told you to wait outside,” Lisa told him, but ruined the angry tone by smiling down at her son. Ben just smiled sheepishly at Dean.
“You know you hum AC/DC in your sleep?” he asked Dean. “AC/DC rules!” Ben made a rock sign by curling down his fingers.
“Sure does,” Dean agreed easily and managed to raise an arm up to bump fists with the boy.
When Dean flopped back onto the pillows, the motion pulled at his side and he must have grimaced. Lisa chuckled.
“I made some soup. I’ll bring some up for you.” She pulled Ben into her side and, despite her son’s protests, began to march him out of the room.
Dean gave his best cocky smile. “Sounds awesome.” He grinned and settled more comfortably on the pillows. “Oh and Lisa, could you send Sam up?”
Lisa turned back, leaning against the door with a frown.
“He left with his lady friend. He said that he had to finish the hunt. Something about seals being broken… It didn’t make much sense to me, but… hey!”
Lisa quickly moved across the room and pushed Dean back into the bed he was attempting to vacate. She pulled Dean’s cell phone from her pocket. “He also said to call him when you woke up. You’ve been out cold for at least 12 hours.” Lisa closed the door quietly behind her as she left and Dean hit Sam’s number on speed dial.
“Hey, this is Sam. Stay in bed, Dean.”
Dean scrunched up his nose in annoyance and left a message after the tone.
“I can’t believe you ditched me, Sammy! Don’t die, or I swear to God I’ll kill you… and remember he’s on my side now,” he finished childishly, snapped the phone shut and slowly counted to one hundred in his head. Just as he was about to reach one hundred, his phone bleeped to announce a text message.
Ditched you? You’re in bed at a beautiful woman’s house. Talk about ungrateful. We’re done here, anyway. Be back tomorrow.
Dean hit redial and listened to Sam’s message again, took a deep breath and blew the longest, loudest, crudest raspberry he could muster and hung up. When he looked up, Lisa was standing in the door with a tray in her hands laughing quietly at his antics and Dean smiled wistfully back.
Sam would be back tomorrow, but until then maybe he could let himself pretend…just a little.
Title: Healing Hands
Author: starrylizard
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean/Lisa, Ben, Sam (Ruby in passing)
Rating: PG
Genre: Hurt/comfort
Spoilers: mentions S4 and set in S4, but nothing really specific
Comments: For turquoisetumult who said on her Christmas wish list I always liked the Dean/Lisa(+Ben) relationship from Supernatural. Would someone like to write a fic for me (I'd like to have it involve Lisa and/or Ben, but it can simply be Dean talking about them to Sam). Thanks to rinkle for the beta! :)
The rumble of the Impala hurt; its deep-seated growl making the pain reverberate through bone and muscle and sinew. Dean heard someone moan, and then his brother’s voice, low and sad. “You’ll be all right, Dean. The antidote will kick in soon.” Dean managed to open his eyes a sliver, enough to see Sam leaning in to check the wounds in his side, before the light and movement became too much and he slammed them shut again. This time he recognised the moan that followed as his own.
“Sam?” Dean croaked.
“Yeah, Dean?”
“Sam. Who’s driving?”
Sam coughed. “I wanted to stay with you.”
“Sam? Is Ruby driving m’ car?” Dean managed to slit his eyes open again, doing his best to frown up at Sam. Sam who was trying not to grin with relief as he reached one large hand down to lightly pat Dean’s face.
“I think it’s working, Ruby,” Sam stated and received only a grumbled response from the driver.
Dean frowned again and tried to lift a hand to smack Sam’s away from his face, but his arms felt too heavy and his eyelids were drooping shut again. He felt Sam’s hand move from his face and land on his chest, right over his heart, patting several small thumps.
“Sleep, Dean. We’re almost there.”
Dean wanted to ask where there was, but his body felt so heavy, his eyes refused to open and he gave up the battle. Wherever they were going, Sam wouldn’t go there if it wasn’t safe and if it had a bed… As he phased in and out, he could hear his brother murmuring to Ruby, felt the rumble of the Impala as a comfort now; the pain receded to an unnatural numbness of heavy limbs and a tingling pins and needles feeling. It was a sweet relief he wasn’t about to fight.
ooo
He woke again when they jostled him from the car. He must have been out for a while, because it was night time and the cool evening air felt strange against his numbed skin.
Dean assumed it was Sam and Ruby who carried him - strong hands under his arms, around his shoulders and under his legs in a sort of fire-man’s carry that he was sure was less than dignified. There was someone else though, a warm touch feeling his head and stroking his hand briefly as he was carried inside. A familiar voice that told Sam and Ruby to hurry before the neighbours became curious.
“Gumby girl,” he whispered and heard Sam muffle a laugh behind a cough.
ooo
A warm hand patted his chest. “We’ll be back before you miss us.” Sam.
ooo
He was warm, AC/DC played softly off to one side and, when he cracked his eyes open, a small hand was running a toy car across a flower-patterned duvet. When the car touched his skin it tickled slightly. Dean slid back to sleep on a sigh.
ooo
“Hey sleepyhead.” A cool hand patted at Dean’s face. He grumbled, shifting, the fiery torments of Hell flashing behind his eyes.
“No, won’t!” Dean muttered.
A hand stroked through his hair, shifting some of the tension that wracked his body. He turned his face into the touch and settled back into the darkness, his mind stretching toward consciousness.
ooo
“Come on, Dean. You’re scaring me here.” The voice was gentle concern; that voice mothers instinctively master early on.
Dean was awake, eyes suddenly darting around the unfamiliar surroundings - no twin beds, no dingy hotel curtains and cigarette stains - as he struggled to sit up.
“Dean, hey?”
Dean turned enough to focus on the figure above him. Long dark hair, perfect teeth that nibbled at her bottom lip and carefully manicured eyebrows turned down in concern.
“Lisa?”
“Oh, thank God! You scared me half to death. Sam said you’d be in and out, but really I was beginning to wonder. I mean…”
“Mom. Is Dean okay?”
Dean took stock, resting back on his elbows. He hurt, the pain a sharp fire in his side where Sam had patched him up on the run. But he could feel; the weird numbness inspired by Ruby’s antidote was now gone, along with the poison’s effects. His eyes no longer hurt in the dim light of the room. All in all, he was pretty okay.
“Yeah, Ben. I’m okay,” he answered.
Ben stood at his mother’s side, eyes a little more serious than Dean remembered them. Lisa’s hand stroked through her son’s hair and kept coming back despite the way Ben deliberately squirmed, embarrassed in front of Dean. “Mo-om,” he finally huffed and took a step closer to the bed.
“I told you to wait outside,” Lisa told him, but ruined the angry tone by smiling down at her son. Ben just smiled sheepishly at Dean.
“You know you hum AC/DC in your sleep?” he asked Dean. “AC/DC rules!” Ben made a rock sign by curling down his fingers.
“Sure does,” Dean agreed easily and managed to raise an arm up to bump fists with the boy.
When Dean flopped back onto the pillows, the motion pulled at his side and he must have grimaced. Lisa chuckled.
“I made some soup. I’ll bring some up for you.” She pulled Ben into her side and, despite her son’s protests, began to march him out of the room.
Dean gave his best cocky smile. “Sounds awesome.” He grinned and settled more comfortably on the pillows. “Oh and Lisa, could you send Sam up?”
Lisa turned back, leaning against the door with a frown.
“He left with his lady friend. He said that he had to finish the hunt. Something about seals being broken… It didn’t make much sense to me, but… hey!”
Lisa quickly moved across the room and pushed Dean back into the bed he was attempting to vacate. She pulled Dean’s cell phone from her pocket. “He also said to call him when you woke up. You’ve been out cold for at least 12 hours.” Lisa closed the door quietly behind her as she left and Dean hit Sam’s number on speed dial.
“Hey, this is Sam. Stay in bed, Dean.”
Dean scrunched up his nose in annoyance and left a message after the tone.
“I can’t believe you ditched me, Sammy! Don’t die, or I swear to God I’ll kill you… and remember he’s on my side now,” he finished childishly, snapped the phone shut and slowly counted to one hundred in his head. Just as he was about to reach one hundred, his phone bleeped to announce a text message.
Ditched you? You’re in bed at a beautiful woman’s house. Talk about ungrateful. We’re done here, anyway. Be back tomorrow.
Dean hit redial and listened to Sam’s message again, took a deep breath and blew the longest, loudest, crudest raspberry he could muster and hung up. When he looked up, Lisa was standing in the door with a tray in her hands laughing quietly at his antics and Dean smiled wistfully back.
Sam would be back tomorrow, but until then maybe he could let himself pretend…just a little.