Rock and a Hard Place (SPN, Dean)

[MissBayliss]

Title: Rock and a Hard Place

Fandom: SPN

Warnings: Severe Angst, spoilers from season 5 and 6.

Summary: The story is told from three different view points, Dean, Lisa and Sam. It's two separate times where Dean got sick. In both parts he's struggling a lot with his life, at first from the loss of his brother and then the loss of Lisa and Ben.

A/N: I just watched Swan Song before I wrote this, the end of that episode just breaks me down. It's heart wrenching. We hear some stuff about what Dean was like after Sam's death, in the beginning of season 6 but I wanted to write a little bit, of my interpretation, of what I thought Dean would be like in that time. The second half is just a bonus, and also cause Dean's had so much trouble with that shoulder. I added that just for more torture. Lol

Rock and a Hard Place

His sweat was cold but his skin was hot, making goosebumps stand out on his overly sensitive skin. He was boiling, burning. He wished he was dead. Then he wouldn't feel this way. He wouldn't be in pain anymore, wouldn't feel anything. God, he wished he couldn't feel anything.

I wish I couldn't feel anything, Sammy.

"Dean, what are you doing out here?"

Lisa. Oh, he could cry just hearing her voice. She had a brown paper grocery bag propped up on her hip, her gorgeous curled dark hair blowing in the afternoon breeze. Sun lighting up behind her. This is what angels looked like. This is what an angel should look like.

I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing.

"Sweetie, you're burning up."

He scoffed at her choice of words. Gently pushed her hand away from his face.

"I'll be fine."

He'd said it so much the words no longer had meaning. What was it like to be fine? Dean had never been fine, and he certainly wasn't fine now.

He sneezed into his sleeve, sniffed back the snot that threatened to leak out his nose.

"Son of a..."

"Hey, it's okay. Go inside and lie down."

"Nah, Ben's tryna study... been sneezin’ my head off."

"Are you seriously out here because of that?"

Her tone was accusatory. Dean's eyes darted around for a second. He didn't want to have to answer that. He wanted to run. Get in the impala, drive until he passed out at the wheel and ran it off the road.

"Hey, you alright?"

"I'm sorry, Lees," he bowed his head. Tears were wetting his face, running down his neck making him shiver more.

"Okay. Inside. Can you stand?"

The world kept falling away from him then coming back up to meet him. He needed more support from her than he realised, in every sense of the word. Her arm snaked around his middle. The grocery bag wasn’t there anymore. She must have left that back in the garage somewhere.

“Ben!” she called, as they pushed through the door.

The kid’s eyes widened as he saw Dean. They made it as far as the couch before he collapsed.

“Can you get Dean some water, please? And tylenol from the first aid kit.”

Ben jumped up and abandoned his books, spread over the dining room table. Dean blinked lazily from his half-sitting half-lying position. Lisa sat beside him and pulled his head onto her lap. He wrapped a hand around her knee, burrowing his head into her thigh. He knew he was still crying because he could hear her "shhh-ing" him. That soft sound, so gentle and loving. He knew it so well by now, since the night he showed up on her doorstep.

Ben came back, taking slow tentative steps towards the couch.

"Thanks, baby. Now go upstairs."

"But I-"

"Go upstairs, Ben."

As much as Dean hated it, it was no where near the first time Ben had seen him cry. Though, most of the time he held it together. He was just in a daze, somewhere else. Thinking of other things or most of the time nothing at all. Lisa was good with him. She told him what to do. Without that, he would have just lay down and never got back up. He didn't know who he was anymore. He had no idea without Sam. He wasn't anything without Sam.

"Shhh, Dean. It's okay..."

~~~~~~~

Dean had stopped sobbing long enough to take the tablets and a few struggled sips of water. It wasn't really surprising that he'd gotten sick. Ben had a bug about a week ago, and Dean was in the most rundown, susceptible state he'd probably ever been in. He drank every day. Without fail. He couldn't get to sleep otherwise, and when he did sleep he'd cry out, thrash around. Or sometimes he'd just wake up and have that look, like the world was crushing him. Lisa didn't mind though, and no matter how broken he was she loved him with everything she had.

"Dean," she gripped his shoulder. He was asleep now. She'd sat under the weight of his head for a few hours, she needed to get up and make Ben dinner, get Dean to bed and get him warm. He was shivering so hard her knees knocked together.

"Mm," he groaned, "Five more minutes..."

"Dean, come on," she chuckled.

"Knock it off, Sam," he sluggishly shook her off.

She held her breath for a minute, felt Dean sigh.

"Lees..." He corrected.

"Time for bed, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

His voice was breathy again, high pitched and slightly strangled, like the night she found him on her doorstep. She kept her hands on him as he sat up, brushed her palm over his forehead and around to his cheek, while he sat, just looking at her with bloodshot eyes. She frowned.

"Come on," she stood and offered her hand. He took it as he lumbered to his feet.

Ben was standing halfway down the staircase.

"Can I come down now?"

"Yeah, sweetie. Can you help me get Dean to bed?"

He nodded and jogged down the stairs, taking Dean's other arm.

"I'm fine," Dean's delayed response caught up when they were almost at the bedroom.

"Thanks, baby. I'll be down in a minute," she rubbed Ben's arm, and he backed away from the bed, his exp<b></b>ression still tight with worry as he looked at Dean.

Lisa handled Dean out of his clothes, got him under the covers and pulled the comforter right up to his chin, his dazed eyes watching her the whole time, complying gently with her ministrations.

"I'm just going to make Ben dinner and I'll come up and check on you. Get some sleep."

Dean got his hand free from the covers and gripped her wrist.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Can I just... have a drink? It'll... It'll help me sleep."

"No, Dean. Not tonight."

"But I can't..."

She bent down and kissed his temple, closed her eyes so she didn't have to see the panic on his face.

"Go to sleep..."

~~~~~~~~

Dean was a fire beside her. She woke up wondering why she was sweating, pushing the sheets off her until she realised. He was asleep. He was shaking, not just the shivers that come with fever chills, but shaking. This was week two of having Dean stay with her, she was used to the nightmares. The bed jolted as he flinched in his sleep and she forced herself up, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Dean, honey, wake up."

He flinched again, his arm pulling away from her. She sat up more, leaning over him to see his face, scrunched up, wet with sweat and tears.

He made a low gasping noise and flinched again, clearly having a really bad dream.

"Dean," she said louder this time, squeezing her fingers into his shoulder.

He shot up, bringing his fists in front of his face.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, you're okay..."

He panted. Lay his head back on the pillow, his eyes far away and so, so pained.

"It's okay, baby," she whispered. She'd learnt not to say "it was just a dream". She used to use that line on Ben, when it was just a dream. Not with Dean. Never with Dean.

He coughed, rolled onto his side away from her, coughing against his fist. His muscles trembled beneath her hand.

"Just breathe, Dean."

He stopped eventually. Stayed in the position he was in, body sinking into the mattress.

"You need some more meds for your fever. I'll be right back," she gently whispered what she was doing. Dean liked it when she did that, especially at night, since he wasn't allowed the knife under his pillow anymore.

When she came back in the room Dean was sneezing into his hands, rapid and breathy.

"Here," she said, shoving tissues into his calloused hands, and patting is head, sweeping his sweaty hair back off his forehead.

He blew his nose then returned the tissues to her. She put a loving hand on his cheek, smiled warmly at his bleary eyes.

"Sit up a bit, babe. You have to take this."

She helped him sit up on an elbow and fed him the Tylenol and water.

"Than-"

"Shh," she put a hand up, "Don't thank me for anything, ever, okay? You don't need to."

She crawled into bed beside him, he buried his sniffly head into her shoulder.

"Now, go to back to sleep."

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~

Ben and I can't be in this with you.

~~~

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~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~

Cas, there is one thing you can do for me.

~~~

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~~~~~~~~~

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I lost control for a minute...

~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

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You ever mention Lisa and Ben to me again, I'll break your nose.

...

I'm not kidding, Sam.

~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

When Dean was sick, you said nothing. Those were the rules. Sam knew it. It was a cold, it would pass. He also knew Dean thought he was getting away with it. No harm in letting him think that really.

"Hut'ttchhuu!"

"Bless. You want me to drive?"

"Yeah, nice try, Sammy."

...

The attitude he could have done without.

...

They were buggered. Dean had been freaking out about Sam scratching the wall, afraid he'd drop dead any second, as if that wasn't enough. Dean never stopped, he worked through a head cold, always had. It was never enough to slow him down. But no matter how much Sam loved his brother, when you're sitting next to someone clearing their throat every three seconds, it gets on your nerves.

This case was a balls up. Just a massive, massive mess. And Dean was an irritable, angry, asshole most of the time, since Sam had uttered his first bless you. Forget even trying to help him. They'd gone in with the wrong information. Now they were sitting in the dirty dank motel room, (well, Sam was sitting, Dean was pacing angrily), Sam with a busted up leg, Dean with his arm hanging by his side, courtesy of the fugly that had ripped his shoulder apart.

"Are you done yet?" He griped, swiped his sleeve under his nose, sniffling thickly.

"Calm down, I had to put stitches in it before I bled out."

"Oh, stop being dramatic. Huh'keschuuu! Argh! Son of a bitch! Saaaam."

"God, Dean. I'm almost finished. Hang on a sec."

"If I sneeze again my whole arm might fall off," Dean's tone right now made Sam want to leave his broken ass here, if he could get up that is. He didn't even know why Dean was being like this. It wasn't the first time he'd been sick.

Dean had always had problems with his left shoulder. He'd been shot how many times? Four? Five? Honestly, they'd lost count, with the layers of scar upon scar. He'd dislocated it... seven(?) times in the past year. Sam knew it was pretty bad. You dislocate a shoulder rolling out of bed in the morning and you've got problems. Dean never said anything about it. Neither of them did. They carried on. Got the job done. They were Winchesters. Sure, he'd seen Dean roll it around a couple of times, give an impatient groan, sometimes he'd make a move, reach for something and just stop dead, colour draining from his face for a second as he pressed his eyes shut. Then he'd just resume and say nothing about it. He probably needed a complete reconstruction, but you can't exactly get surgery when you've been declared legally dead three times.

"Sam, it's done. Get my shoulder back in," he was waving a liquor bottle around in his right hand.

"Fine," Sam snapped, "Come here."

Dean knelt down on the floor in front of Sam's bed so he could just lean over and pop it back in.

Sam didn't even count down this time he was so pissed. He just snapped it back and Dean let out a cry, cradled his arm in against his chest and downed half a bottle. Sam's hands were on him long enough to gauge something, though.

"Dean, you're really hot."

"That's what I've been telling you, Sam," he groaned, his voice cutting in and out, "'S why you have zero luck with the ladies..."

Dean was pacing again.

"No, Dean, come on. I know you're sick."

"Shut up! I'm not sick!"

Great, now he was drunk.

"What's your problem, man? You've been acting like a dick since we got this case and you got sick."

"I'm not sick, Sam. I swear to God, I will start punching."

"What's wrong? What aren't you tell me? Is this something... he did?"

By 'he', he meant other Sam, soulless Sam.

Dean closed his eyes, shook his head, "No. This... has nothing to do with you, Sam. Believe it or not."

Dean swayed, actually tipped over and caught himself on the motel table, legs buckling beneath him.

Sam made a move to get up but his leg pulled him in the other direction. Dean waved a whiskey bottle at him.

"It's fine. I'm fine. God..." He groaned, putting the bottle on the table and clutching his left shoulder as he coughed.

"Dean..." Sam called in a soft voice.

Dean straightened himself up, walked towards the motel door, back to Sam. He threw his head back and looked at the ceiling.

"It sucks, dude."

"What sucks? Aside from, you know... everything," Sam smiled, staring at his brother's back.

"Just, the last time I... was sick... things were... different."

Dean sat on his bed, groaned as he lay back, coughing through closed lips.

"Dean, I..."

Dean's head shot back up and he glared at Sam.

"Don't. Don't you dare. I meant what I said."

Sam pretended not to notice the tears in his brother's eyes. He nodded, gulped, "I know, Dean."

There was a moment of silence. Dean cleared his throat again.

"I'm sorry," Sam piped up, "If I hadn't come back-"

"No," Dean rolled his head to look at Sam.

Sam got the hint, didn't think his brother could take any more.

"How's the leg?" Dean asked, sniffling.

"It'll be alright... Hey, Dean..."

"I'm gonna go to sleep now, Sammy."

"Oh..."

There was silence for a while as both brothers stared up at the ceiling.

"Thanks," Sam muttered.

Dean cleared his throat, another moment passed, "G'night, Sammy."

~~~~~~~~~~

End.

[MissBayliss]

My italics didn't work probably cause I posted from my iPad. Sorry Hope it still sort of reads well...

[spirkestielgirl87]

What a great story! I honestly didn't care too much for the Dean/Lisa storyline in season 6, but I like what you did with it. You did great with the characterization, it felt very natural. I really enjoyed it!

[MissBayliss]

What a great story! I honestly didn't care too much for the Dean/Lisa storyline in season 6, but I like what you did with it. You did great with the characterization, it felt very natural. I really enjoyed it!

Thanks! I really loved the Lisa/Dean storyline, I thought it was really well written. Hope my story was true to character, even with Dean crying and that. I tried to make it as true as I could. Glad you enjoyed it!

[MissBayliss]

Urrrgh, I just read this again and realised there's so many mistakes but I can't figure out how to edit a post on my phone. I'll fix it up when I get the chance! Serve me right for being too quick on the posting

[telltale]

"You need some more meds for your fever. I'll be right back," she gently whispered what she was doing. Dean liked it when she did that, especially at night, since he wasn't allowed the knife under his pillow anymore.

/cries

That's beautiful. I really, really love Dean/Lisa fic, and the way you constructed this fic, with the broken-up pieces of dialogue between the parts with Dean/Lisa and Dean and Sam worked so well and was totally heartbreaking.

Really, post Swan Song fic in general is one of my favourite things; I'm so glad you went there and wrote this. I stopped watching sometime during season six, no big deal, it just became not my thing. But I still think about Swan Song and imagine all kinds of things about what it must have been like for Dean directly after that episode ended. Deannn.

[Poniessneezetoo]

Aww. Poor Dean.

This was really well written

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

Beautifully written! Wish there were more

[sierraplaid]

"Severe Angst" indeed -- poor Dean! This is really well written, and I love your characterization of the brothers. Their relationship is a little rocky, but you conveyed the underlying warmth and brotherhood.

Also, I really enjoyed this line: "He probably needed a complete reconstruction, but you can't exactly get surgery when you've been declared legally dead three times." Made me chuckle.

Thanks for sharing!