Nausea: The Adventure Begins
#1 Ribs- You want those ribs wet or dry?
Dean felt the ribs snap when he slammed into the edge of the tombstone. Solid cracks
he could almost hear that sent shockwaves of hurt and nausea through his body.
His gasp of pained surprise sucked rain into his windpipe and he doubled over in
agony, choking and spluttering, legs sliding in the water and mud until he was
laying against the very grave marker that had injured him.
He couldn't breathe. His chest felt like it was crushed. Heart thudding, hands pressed to his ribcage.
A gun went off nearby.
Sam.
He struggled to draw in air.
And failed.
#2 Stitches- Embroidery
Dean stared at the line of sutures marching down the length of his forefinger as Sam
finished stitching, squinting in the bad light, pausing most notably on the
area where some of what looked like stuff that should have been inside the gash
was sort of hanging out in places. Nothing major, but still...
"What about that stuff?" he asked, pointing with his other hand.
Sam frowned at the offending bits sticking out thru the stitches. "What, that?"
With tweezers, Sam crammed the escaping tissue back into the split in Dean's
skin in a movement so nauseating Dean gagged.
"DUDE!"
#3 Sick- Now I lay me down to die.
The car was never going to stop and he was going to die here in the
PASSENGER side of his own car while Sam tried to find a motel for the
night.
Muscles aching, brain woozy and short-circuiting as his fever crept higher, stomach
knotting with cramps, so nauseous he knew one more touch on the brakes or sway
of the big car in a too tight turn and he was going to be decorating the dashboard.
"Not feelin' so good here, Sam," he warned thickly.
And Sam hit the brakes.
#4 Hurt Dean-Quiet As A Mouse...
Sam pushed himself further into the shadows, pulling Dean's limp body against him,
the side of his face pressed to Dean's head, blood already forming glue between
them.
The creature outside tried to scent them, snuffling and scratching beyond the
darkness of the rocks shielding them. Sam prayed the special dust they had
covered themselves with would keep them hidden.
He tried to control his own shaking breath.
Go away, go away...
Dean moved as consciousness returned. His boot jerked minutely, dislodging a
pebble.
Sam's hand moved quickly to Dean's mouth.
"Lay still." Sam breathed into Dean's ear. "Lay still."
#5 Dislocations - Everything in its place...
Nausea rolled through Dean as Sam gently tried to manipulate his shoulder back into
the socket. The usual snap-jerk move hadn't worked. Three tries had sent Dean,
gagging, to his knees.
"I'm sorry," Sam repeated in a litany of apologies.
On his knees and one elbow, bad arm hugged to his belly, head down, Dean gasped,
"Just gimme a second..." Sweat dripped off his chin, joining the other dark
spots on the dirty carpet.
Slowly he straightened, still kneeling, bracing himself as Sam hesitantly gripped his
elbow again, "Ready?"
Dean nodded.
"You sure?"
No...
"For Chrissake, Sam, just Do it!"
#6 Shoulder injury - Hammering the Point Home.
"Just get it out, Sam," Dean grit his teeth. The sight of the three and a half inch
galvanized nail buried to the head in his shoulder was nauseating to say the
least.
Sam hesitated, pliers in hand. "It missed the bone, but this is gonna hurt like a
bitch..." He clamped the nail tightly in the pliers and jerked before Dean could
think about it.
Dean let out a hoarse growl of pain as the metal was dragged free of the muscle,
blood poured down his arm.
"No more jobs on construction sites," he groaned.
"EVER."
#7 Fever- Burned out
The 110 degree heat rippled the air as Sam and Dean moved toward the car. Added to
the fever Dean had been running for the last three days, it gave him the
nauseating sensation of floating slightly above the ground as he walked.
His attention wavered unsteadily as Sam talked.
And talked.
Voice a constant droning, buzz of noise.
Dean's steps slowed and he stopped, wondering, in a detached way, if he was going to be sick.
Raising a hand to his sweating face, eyes unfocusing as the world spiraled slowly around him, Sam's words faded into silence.
Thank God.
#8 Hip- What Lies Beneath.
Wearily, Dean unbuckled his belt and flipped open the top button, very aware of the raw
burn on his right side. He carefully pulled up his t-shirt, tugging it gently
loose from the blood sticking it to his skin, and moved to see his reflection
in the bathroom mirror better.
He hadn't realized how deeply he had scraped and bruised the skin in a wide band
from just above his hip to below his beltline when he fell on the rocks.
Gingerly, he unzipped his jeans and pushed the fabric lower, hissing at the painful drag.
"Son of a bitch..."
#9 Torso - Which is worse...
Dean cried out as dozens of venom soaked barbs peppered his chest. Everywhere they
touched was like being injected with acid.
The poison acted fast, pain, dizziness and nausea sending him instantly to his
knees, retching.
"Lay still!" Sam barked, shoving Dean onto his back and tearing open his shirt.
Dean felt liquid splashing over his torso as he was doused with holy water, the
barbs bursting with a sizzling pop. He arched up in shock, screaming. It was
like being set on fire.
Sam knelt and pulled Dean close to him, rocking.
#10 Abdomen -Puzzles Pieces
Sam's hands shook as he threaded the circular needle, swallowing down his nausea at
the sight of the crisscrossed slashes on Dean's abdomen. Dean was mercifully
unconscious, spread on the ground like a sacrifice, bloody towels beneath him
to keep him off the dirt.
Sam paused, surveying the wreckage of his brother.
I can't do this...he needs a doctor...but it was too far..
"Sam..."
He was startled to find Dean's eyes half open, watching him, pain, but no fear
there in the cloudy green orbs.
Only trust.
"It's okay, Sam..."
Sam nodded, grit his teeth.
And began to sew.
END
Dean felt the ribs snap when he slammed into the edge of the tombstone. Solid cracks
he could almost hear that sent shockwaves of hurt and nausea through his body.
His gasp of pained surprise sucked rain into his windpipe and he doubled over in
agony, choking and spluttering, legs sliding in the water and mud until he was
laying against the very grave marker that had injured him.
He couldn't breathe. His chest felt like it was crushed. Heart thudding, hands pressed to his ribcage.
A gun went off nearby.
Sam.
He struggled to draw in air.
And failed.
#2 Stitches- Embroidery
Dean stared at the line of sutures marching down the length of his forefinger as Sam
finished stitching, squinting in the bad light, pausing most notably on the
area where some of what looked like stuff that should have been inside the gash
was sort of hanging out in places. Nothing major, but still...
"What about that stuff?" he asked, pointing with his other hand.
Sam frowned at the offending bits sticking out thru the stitches. "What, that?"
With tweezers, Sam crammed the escaping tissue back into the split in Dean's
skin in a movement so nauseating Dean gagged.
"DUDE!"
#3 Sick- Now I lay me down to die.
The car was never going to stop and he was going to die here in the
PASSENGER side of his own car while Sam tried to find a motel for the
night.
Muscles aching, brain woozy and short-circuiting as his fever crept higher, stomach
knotting with cramps, so nauseous he knew one more touch on the brakes or sway
of the big car in a too tight turn and he was going to be decorating the dashboard.
"Not feelin' so good here, Sam," he warned thickly.
And Sam hit the brakes.
#4 Hurt Dean-Quiet As A Mouse...
Sam pushed himself further into the shadows, pulling Dean's limp body against him,
the side of his face pressed to Dean's head, blood already forming glue between
them.
The creature outside tried to scent them, snuffling and scratching beyond the
darkness of the rocks shielding them. Sam prayed the special dust they had
covered themselves with would keep them hidden.
He tried to control his own shaking breath.
Go away, go away...
Dean moved as consciousness returned. His boot jerked minutely, dislodging a
pebble.
Sam's hand moved quickly to Dean's mouth.
"Lay still." Sam breathed into Dean's ear. "Lay still."
#5 Dislocations - Everything in its place...
Nausea rolled through Dean as Sam gently tried to manipulate his shoulder back into
the socket. The usual snap-jerk move hadn't worked. Three tries had sent Dean,
gagging, to his knees.
"I'm sorry," Sam repeated in a litany of apologies.
On his knees and one elbow, bad arm hugged to his belly, head down, Dean gasped,
"Just gimme a second..." Sweat dripped off his chin, joining the other dark
spots on the dirty carpet.
Slowly he straightened, still kneeling, bracing himself as Sam hesitantly gripped his
elbow again, "Ready?"
Dean nodded.
"You sure?"
No...
"For Chrissake, Sam, just Do it!"
#6 Shoulder injury - Hammering the Point Home.
"Just get it out, Sam," Dean grit his teeth. The sight of the three and a half inch
galvanized nail buried to the head in his shoulder was nauseating to say the
least.
Sam hesitated, pliers in hand. "It missed the bone, but this is gonna hurt like a
bitch..." He clamped the nail tightly in the pliers and jerked before Dean could
think about it.
Dean let out a hoarse growl of pain as the metal was dragged free of the muscle,
blood poured down his arm.
"No more jobs on construction sites," he groaned.
"EVER."
#7 Fever- Burned out
The 110 degree heat rippled the air as Sam and Dean moved toward the car. Added to
the fever Dean had been running for the last three days, it gave him the
nauseating sensation of floating slightly above the ground as he walked.
His attention wavered unsteadily as Sam talked.
And talked.
Voice a constant droning, buzz of noise.
Dean's steps slowed and he stopped, wondering, in a detached way, if he was going to be sick.
Raising a hand to his sweating face, eyes unfocusing as the world spiraled slowly around him, Sam's words faded into silence.
Thank God.
#8 Hip- What Lies Beneath.
Wearily, Dean unbuckled his belt and flipped open the top button, very aware of the raw
burn on his right side. He carefully pulled up his t-shirt, tugging it gently
loose from the blood sticking it to his skin, and moved to see his reflection
in the bathroom mirror better.
He hadn't realized how deeply he had scraped and bruised the skin in a wide band
from just above his hip to below his beltline when he fell on the rocks.
Gingerly, he unzipped his jeans and pushed the fabric lower, hissing at the painful drag.
"Son of a bitch..."
#9 Torso - Which is worse...
Dean cried out as dozens of venom soaked barbs peppered his chest. Everywhere they
touched was like being injected with acid.
The poison acted fast, pain, dizziness and nausea sending him instantly to his
knees, retching.
"Lay still!" Sam barked, shoving Dean onto his back and tearing open his shirt.
Dean felt liquid splashing over his torso as he was doused with holy water, the
barbs bursting with a sizzling pop. He arched up in shock, screaming. It was
like being set on fire.
Sam knelt and pulled Dean close to him, rocking.
#10 Abdomen -Puzzles Pieces
Sam's hands shook as he threaded the circular needle, swallowing down his nausea at
the sight of the crisscrossed slashes on Dean's abdomen. Dean was mercifully
unconscious, spread on the ground like a sacrifice, bloody towels beneath him
to keep him off the dirt.
Sam paused, surveying the wreckage of his brother.
I can't do this...he needs a doctor...but it was too far..
"Sam..."
He was startled to find Dean's eyes half open, watching him, pain, but no fear
there in the cloudy green orbs.
Only trust.
"It's okay, Sam..."
Sam nodded, grit his teeth.
And began to sew.
END
