ratherastory: ([MST3K] Evil & the Narrator)
ratherastory ([personal profile] ratherastory) wrote2012-09-14 04:38 pm

Only the Next Moment

Title: Only the Next Moment
Summary: Time stamp to my previous fic, Of Old Time, Which Was Before Us. Sam takes care of Dean when he's sick.
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1,511
Disclaimer: There must be SOME legal loophole that allows me to keep the boys tied up in my basement, I just know it! I haven't found it yet, alas.
Warnings: None. Just your basic h/c.
Neurotic Author's Note #1: If you haven't read the previous story, all you need to know is that Sam has permanent damage to his median temporal lobe. He has no memories of anything that happened in the series, and is unable to form new memories. The stories are all set post-S7, but Dean never went to Purgatory.
Neurotic Author's Note #2: This is unlikely to become a 'verse. Don't get your hopes up. :)
Neurotic Author's Note #3: Uh, actually, this was originally meant for [livejournal.com profile] hoodie_time's current curtain-fic mini-challenge, and it was a prompt from [livejournal.com profile] jackien1968. It turned out to be a fic that was a bit more about Sam with a lot of bonus sick!Dean, so I'm posting it now and I'll post the other Dean-centric stuff to the comm next week as planned. Yes, I'm writing again. I'm excited!




The phone in the kitchen is ringing. It's rung twice, no, three times. Sam should answer it, he knows he should, but there was something else he was doing and the phone is distracting him and if he picks up he might forget entirely. Dean's not picking up, though, and that means Sam needs to do it. It's an older phone, green plastic riveted to the wall with two screws, large black buttons with white numbers. He takes a breath, reaches for the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Is Dean there, please?"

He hesitates, glances back at the door to the kitchen. There's no sound coming from the rest of the house. He doesn't remember if Dean's home. He should check the timetable they have set up for this, to be sure. There's no note on the whiteboard that's attached to the fridge with magnets, so either Dean is home, or he was meant to be gone and Sam should know this. He turns, absent-mindedly wrapping the phone cord around his wrist, tangling his fingers in the tight coils, flips open his binder. There's today's date—he glances at the word-a-day calendar by the phone to double-check—and he runs his finger over the page until he spots words written in red Sharpie over what's already typed out in the schedule.

Dean's sick. 10am meds and juice or water if he'll take it. 12pm soup and toast.

"Hello?" the woman on the other end of the line sounds impatient, and Sam starts a little, because he almost forgot she was there.

"Um, yeah. Hi. No. Um, I mean, Dean can't come to the phone right now. May I take a message?"

They have a pink pad on the counter closest to the phone, with spaces for the date and time and the actual message and the phone number to call back. It's easier to remember all the questions to ask if it's right there.

"Is that Sam?"

"Yes."

"This is Jill from Dean's work. Is he going to be on shift today?"

He shakes his head at the phone. "No. No, Dean's sick. Did we call?" he asks. He can't remember if they called. It's not written down. You're supposed to call in sick for work, but maybe Dean did it, or maybe he did, and neither of them thought to write it down.

"You did yesterday. I just need to know how long we should hold off on routing calls through to him."

Shit. Shit, he doesn't know this. He doesn't remember how long Dean's been sick. It might be a day, or it could be a week, for all he knows. He swallows, tries not to let the rising panic show in his voice, and reaches for a pen.

"Can I call you back?"

Jill sighs, as though this is the biggest inconvenience of her week. "I guess."

"I need your number, please."

"You should have it." It sounds like she's chewing gum or something.

"Can you give it to me anyway? Please," he adds, carefully writing Jill from Dean's office on the notepad, and the date and the time. He writes down the number she rattles off, then adds, call back before noon to say how long until Dean is back at work. "Okay," he tells her. "I have to check, and I'll call you back before noon."

"Fine."

She hangs up without so much as saying goodbye, and he's too relieved to have her off the phone to care that she was rude. Dean's sick, that's what's important. Dean's sick, and Sam forgot, because he fucking well forgets everything these days. It's eleven o'clock, and the alarms on his phone are all set properly, which means he probably went upstairs an hour ago to check on Dean and bring him pills and juice, and he doesn't even remember that. Fuck. Usually he can manage better than an hour.

He opens the fridge, pulls out the water pitcher and pours a glass, checks the binder again to try to remember where Dean's pills are being kept, and goes up the stairs. He knocks quietly on the door to Dean's bedroom even though it's open, nudges it a little further with his foot. He can just make out the back of Dean's head, hair sticking out a little crazily from his head and matted with sweat. The rest of his brother is hidden under the comforter in which he's cocooned, though he can hear him breathing congestedly. Placing the glass of water on the bedside table, he leans over and carefully shakes Dean's shoulder.

"Hey, Dean."

There's an unintelligible mutter from under the bedclothes. Sam shakes him a little bit harder, and Dean comes awake with a snort and promptly folds in half in a fit of coughing. Swallowing his guilt, Sam sits on the bed next to him and rubs circles on his back until the fit stops.

"Sorry."

Dean's flushed with fever, his eyes a little unfocussed, but he pats Sam's knee and lets his brother gently pull him so he's sitting upright. He leans against Sam's shoulder, a little too out of it to realize what he's doing. There's grey at his temples, Sam realizes with a start. He didn't check the year on the calendar, has no idea how much time has passed. He should do that.

"S'up, Sammy?"

"Have some water," Sam holds the glass for him, and Dean doesn't argue, just drains it and hands it back without a word. "You took your pills, right?"

"Uh-huh. You brought 'em, remember?"

Sam shakes his head. "No. I don't—your work called."

"Hm?"

Automatically he presses the back of his fingers against Dean's forehead. "Wow, you're burning."

"Comes with the territory. We still have Tylenol, you checked it this morning."

"Lemme check my phone." Sam twists a little awkwardly to pull it out of his back pocket with his free hand. "Not for another hour. I'll bring soup, too, and toast."

"Ugh. Can we skip the toast?" Dean makes a face.

"No. I'll just forget, anyway, you may as well get used to the idea. Uh, your work called. They want to know when you'll be back. I said I'd call back."

"It's Thursday, right?"

Sam's still got his phone open, so he nods. "Yeah."

"Tell them Monday morning. Same as you told 'em yesterday."

"Did I? The woman said we called, but she didn't say what I told her. Or you told her. Did you call, or did I?"

"You did, but I was there. Was it Jill?"

"Maybe? I wrote it down. It's downstairs. I can get the paper."

"Don't bother, 's fine," Dean slides down a little in the bed until he's nestled in under Sam's arm, apparently unconcerned with how that might look, not that there's anyone here to judge. "God, I feel like shit."

"You sound like it, too," Sam winces, because that didn't sound nearly as sympathetic as he intended it. Dean snorts.

"Thanks a lot, bitch."

"No, that's—do you want more water?" He figures he can at least compensate for how much he's sucking at this by making sure his brother stays hydrated, but Dean just reaches up to pat his chest.

"'m good like this. It's cold in here."

"No, it's not. You're just running a fever."

"Whatever. You're warm." Dean's already drowsing, one hand draped loosely over Sam's waist. "Like a hot water bottle."

"Uh, sure. Okay. Hey, Dean, how old are you?"

"Age is a social construct, Sammy," Dean mutters into his shirt.

"No it's not. That's ridiculous. Anyway, I don't know what year it is."

Dean just turns his head aside to cough. "It's not important, Sammy."

Sam huffs in exasperation. "Of course it's important!"

"Doesn't change anything. You gonna let me sleep, or what? Hold still and stop talking," Dean jabs him pointedly in the side with his index finger, and Sam squirms and subsides.

"Fine. I'll just look it up later."

"If you remember."

Sam is already programming a reminder to call Jill—if that's who it was—into his phone. He pauses, thumb hovering over the keyboard, then shrugs and decides not to bother with the reminder to look up the year. Dean's right, it won't change anything to know what year it is, to know that the gaping void in his life is getting bigger and bigger with every passing day. It won't help to worry about the day when Dean won't be there anymore, and he won't even remember why not. It won't change anything, he tells himself, feeling his stomach clench a little anyway at the thought.

He puts the phone down on the bedside table, wraps his other arm around his brother, and waits for the telltale signs that will let him know when his brother has finally fallen asleep. It doesn't matter, it won't change anything, he tells himself again. All that matters is that they're both here, right now, and Dean is going to be fine. Whatever happens in the next moment, he'll deal with it then.

[identity profile] gidgetgal9.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
So glad you added another piece to this verse. I so love it. Sam is right, it doesn't matter as long as he has Dean in that moment. :)

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you! Sam's learning to not drive himself crazy, slowly but surely. :)

[identity profile] sw0rdy.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 09:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Just lovely! I usually prefer my stories Dean-centric but you make everything such an enjoyable read.

And I'm VERY glad your writing mojo has resurfaced, hon. Now we just need to get you to work a little magic on your Silent 'verse and my life will be complete! ;)

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Hee! I'm letting the Muse go where she wants right now. It's been so long since I actually did any writing at all that I'm a little afraid to impose restrictions in case it kills the mojo again. :)

Glad you liked the story!

[identity profile] sw0rdy.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 09:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Makes sense :)

I stopped writing for almost four years after about ten years of churning stuff out pretty regularly. Now I'm back into it (and really enjoying myself again) I find it really hard to believe I stopped for so long.

I've hidden my mojo's passport so it can't go on any extended vacations for a while so I suggest you do the same!! ;)
Edited 2012-09-14 21:56 (UTC)

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 09:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Meh. Mine seems to fuck off when I'm stressed about life/finances. No guarantees.

[identity profile] sw0rdy.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Well irrespective of whether you write or not, I send you love and best wishes for both of those things.

xx

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 11:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you! <3

[identity profile] peepingdru.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 10:07 pm (UTC)(link)
beautiful....a lesson we can all learn<<<333

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
How to not make yourself crazy in one easy step. ;)

Glad you liked it!

[identity profile] borgmama1of5.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
You know, you could make this a verse and we wouldn't mind :)

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Heh. I wouldn't hold my breath. The muse, she is fickle. But you never know! :)

[identity profile] jesseofthenorth.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Actually. Doesn't twp stories make it a verse? :DD

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
This is a time stamp. Totally doesn't count. Shh. ¬_¬

[identity profile] jesseofthenorth.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
I had kind of forgotten how much I loved the original story and then you went and wrote this and reminded. AND OMG MY POOR HEART! Sam struggling to take care of his brother under the weight of a deficit that hard makes my gut clench. Well done! (again)

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 11:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah, it's a hard scenario to write, because the more they go on, the worse the deficit is going to get. Sam's going to get older and forget his body can't do what it did at 22, and if something does happen to Dean, well, he'll probably finish up his days in a home of some kind. :/

I'm glad you liked it anyway!

[identity profile] sailorstarshine.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 11:48 pm (UTC)(link)
;-; my heart, it is ripped to shrewdssss! ;3;

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-14 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Aw, I'm sorry. But I'm also kind of pleased. :)

[identity profile] yasminke.livejournal.com 2012-09-15 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
Nawwwww, hugs all around.

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-15 12:14 am (UTC)(link)


Thank you!!!

[identity profile] quickreaver.livejournal.com 2012-09-15 12:02 am (UTC)(link)
I'm selfishly so stoked your muse has returned!

I absolutely adore how you wrote Dean still giving Sam shit, despite the substantial memory issues. When Sam sees the gray at Dean's temples and can't remember the year? Oh, my shriveled heart fluttered just a little.

Sensitive and smart, as usual, m'dear!

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-15 12:16 am (UTC)(link)
I'm quite pleased too, frankly. :)

Dean knows that what Sam really needs is a sense of normalcy. If he walks on eggshells around him all the time, it'll just serve to make Sam into a basket case. Also, your heart is not shriveled, silly woman! ;)

I'm glad you liked it!

[identity profile] klutzy-girl.livejournal.com 2012-09-15 12:42 am (UTC)(link)
Aw, I loved Sam taking care of Dean! And I'm glad he decided not to worry about what year it was. And wow at Jill. Really don't like her.

Love this 'verse and I'm so glad you're writing again!

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-15 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
Thank you!

And yeah, Jill isn't exactly the world's nicest or most patient person. Mind you, she probably doesn't know much about Sam's condition, and is likely being impatient with him out of ignorance/indifference rather than real malice.

I'm glad you liked it!

[identity profile] callistosh65.livejournal.com 2012-09-15 05:52 am (UTC)(link)
Stealthy bed-sharing - always my favourite. And you wrote such a lovely, poignant Sam here.
Edited 2012-09-15 05:53 (UTC)

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-15 08:48 am (UTC)(link)
Hee! My gen kinks, let me show you them. As usual, yes? I'm so glad you liked it. Poor Sam.

[identity profile] phyllis2779.livejournal.com 2012-09-15 06:43 am (UTC)(link)
This is such an interesting verse. And this story is so poignant.

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-17 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you. :)

It's an interesting, if somewhat depressing, concept to explore. Glad you're enjoying it!

[identity profile] faege.livejournal.com 2012-09-15 05:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Dean's right, it won't change anything to know what year it is, to know that the gaping void in his life is getting bigger and bigger with every passing day. It won't help to worry about the day when Dean won't be there anymore, and he won't even remember why not.

OMg, this was so sad! I got so caught up in the little details of Sam coping minute-to-minute that I didn't even think of the big picture of how his condition would affect him until the end. It was all shmoopy and sort of happy aside from evol!Jill and then WHAM with the sadness. Still enjoyed the read, though. ;)

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-17 07:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Aw, thank you! Yeah, it's a story full of ups-and-downs. You actually caught on to how Sam copes with things: getting caught up in the minute-to-minute of it all until every so often the big picture whacks him over the head.

Glad you liked it!

[identity profile] sothcweden.livejournal.com 2012-09-16 09:58 pm (UTC)(link)
I continue to admire the way you think about the details - what Sam has to do or have to keep him and their lives on an even keel. Things like buying a particular message pad that will prompt Sam to ask the questions necessary on the phone. Glad you've got your writing muse back!

[identity profile] sylvia37.livejournal.com 2012-09-17 07:35 am (UTC)(link)
I was so glad to see ths. I feel terrible for Sam who feels so inadequate, but as usual, just keeps on going.

So glad you feel like writing again. I've missed you.

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-17 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Aw, thank you! I'm glad to be writing again too. :)

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-17 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you very much. I do tend to think about the details, it's what fascinates me about these situations. Not the illness/injury itself, but how people cope with it. Or don't cope, as the case may be.

[identity profile] madebyme-x.livejournal.com 2012-09-17 05:10 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm so pleased that your muse has returned!

I fell in love with the first fic and I'm so happy that you've revisited it with this time stamp. I think seeing this from Sam's perspective really empathizes the enormity of what Sam has to handle because now we're just as in the dark as Sam is; where's Dean? Who called and why? What year is it? Has Dean had his pills? Etc etc

I adored how fevered Dean 'snuggled' Sam and how he still teases the hell out of Sam. I really dug that.

Now you've got your groove on, I'm really excited to see some more new work from you. Woohoo! Take care, ;)

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-17 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you so much! I'm excited to be writing again too. :)

[identity profile] harrigan.livejournal.com 2012-09-17 07:50 pm (UTC)(link)
I commented over at AO3 -- but I loved this fic so much I had to comment in two places! SO glad you're writing again!

[identity profile] ratherastory.livejournal.com 2012-09-17 09:46 pm (UTC)(link)
You are too good to me. <3