Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dudeimbatman) wrote2009-05-03 11:45 pm
dudeimbatman) wrote2009-05-03 11:45 pm
Entry tags:
The jig is up, the news it out, they finally found me
[This image]
Sammy in the basement storyline
He’s debating the assets of one carburetor cleaner against another when his phone rings. He knows it’s Claire by the ringtone—She’s only Seventeen by Winger—and he answers it with the urgency it deserves.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, abandoning the half full basket of car care products in favor of booking it toward the exit.
“His fever has spiked. It’s up to 105,” Claire starts. Dean interrupts before she can finish what she’s saying.
“I’ll be there in five minutes.” He doesn’t say goodbye, just hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket. The Auto Zone is fifteen minutes from the house.
Dean is in the process of breaking land speed records in the Impala when he sees the blue and red flashing lights behind him. He can hear the sirens even over Black Sabbath but he doesn’t slow down or pull over. He sticks his arm out the window and makes a come along gesture. They can ticket him for what the hell ever they want when he gets home.
By the time he gets to Brooke’s house, he’s leading three police cars and he sort of misses the drive way, taking out the grass to the right of it. He slaps a driver’s license—Ted Hendrix—on the hood of the Impala along with the insurance that matches.
“Baby brother’s sick, leave the tickets under the windshield wipers,” Dean says as he books it into the house and clatters down the stairs to the basement at speeds that might make Bruce Jenner envious…maybe.
Sam is curled up in a ball, chains still on his wrists and his ankles, soaked in sweat. His hair is plastered to his skin and Claire is standing off to the side with her hands on her hips.
“Don’t touch me! It hurts!” Sam screams when Dean gets close. Dean looks over at Claire with a questioning look because this is new.
Claire shrugs in response. “You didn’t have to run home. I can inject him and it’ll bring his fever down but I can’t get near him.”
Dean holds out his hand. “Gimme,” he says, expecting her to put the syringe of her blood in his hand.
“Dean…be careful. He knocked me across the room and broke my neck. That’s when I called you,” says Little Miss Bounce Back.
Dean’s brow furrows and he takes a step back to study Sam for a moment. “Alright, I’ll grab him from behind and hold onto him. You stick him.”
Sammy in the basement storyline
He’s debating the assets of one carburetor cleaner against another when his phone rings. He knows it’s Claire by the ringtone—She’s only Seventeen by Winger—and he answers it with the urgency it deserves.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, abandoning the half full basket of car care products in favor of booking it toward the exit.
“His fever has spiked. It’s up to 105,” Claire starts. Dean interrupts before she can finish what she’s saying.
“I’ll be there in five minutes.” He doesn’t say goodbye, just hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket. The Auto Zone is fifteen minutes from the house.
Dean is in the process of breaking land speed records in the Impala when he sees the blue and red flashing lights behind him. He can hear the sirens even over Black Sabbath but he doesn’t slow down or pull over. He sticks his arm out the window and makes a come along gesture. They can ticket him for what the hell ever they want when he gets home.
By the time he gets to Brooke’s house, he’s leading three police cars and he sort of misses the drive way, taking out the grass to the right of it. He slaps a driver’s license—Ted Hendrix—on the hood of the Impala along with the insurance that matches.
“Baby brother’s sick, leave the tickets under the windshield wipers,” Dean says as he books it into the house and clatters down the stairs to the basement at speeds that might make Bruce Jenner envious…maybe.
Sam is curled up in a ball, chains still on his wrists and his ankles, soaked in sweat. His hair is plastered to his skin and Claire is standing off to the side with her hands on her hips.
“Don’t touch me! It hurts!” Sam screams when Dean gets close. Dean looks over at Claire with a questioning look because this is new.
Claire shrugs in response. “You didn’t have to run home. I can inject him and it’ll bring his fever down but I can’t get near him.”
Dean holds out his hand. “Gimme,” he says, expecting her to put the syringe of her blood in his hand.
“Dean…be careful. He knocked me across the room and broke my neck. That’s when I called you,” says Little Miss Bounce Back.
Dean’s brow furrows and he takes a step back to study Sam for a moment. “Alright, I’ll grab him from behind and hold onto him. You stick him.”