Before The Worst

Chapter 4

It was still raining half an hour later when Bobby eased the wrecker – and the Impala hooked behind it – off the highway and onto the road that led to Singer Salvage.

The squeak of the wipers on the windshield and Sam's slightly congested breathing as he slept against Dean mingled with the other sounds in the cab of the vehicle – the rattling of the bucket that had been moved from Sam's lap back to the passenger side floorboard after the kid had fallen asleep; the cranky grumble of the wrecker's old engine; the rumbly hiss of the tires on the wet pavement; the creaky springs beneath the torn fabric of the stained bench seat.

It was all familiar and soothing despite the lingering worry both Bobby and Dean felt over the potential seriousness of their youngest's condition.

Because if Sam really did have an inflamed appendix...

Dean sighed as the recurring fear once again crossed his mind and shifted in the seat as his wet clothes – still drenched from having stood in the rain earlier – clung to him; making him cold and uncomfortable...which was undoubtedly how Sam and Bobby felt, too, since their clothes were also saturated from the downpour.

Dean sighed once more; glancing down at Sam as the kid slept against him before glancing at Bobby behind the steering wheel; the older hunter's focus on the rain-slick road as he drove.

"Do you think he has appendicitis?"

Bobby arched an eyebrow at the sudden question but didn't look at Dean; instead keeping his gaze straight ahead as the rain continued to pour and wondering how long Dean had been obsessing over the possibility of that diagnosis as they had rode in silence.

Dean blinked expectantly. "Bobby..."

Bobby shrugged; knowing he needed to tread lightly with an already freaked out big brother. "Hard to say right now," he replied. "But that pain in his right side's got me worried," he added honestly. "Kids get stomach viruses all the time, but those viruses don't usually settle in one spot like that."

Dean nodded; having expected that answer because he figured the same.

There was a beat of silence; the wipers going back and forth across the windshield.

Dean swallowed, glancing again at Sam and then back at Bobby. "What do you think we should do?"

"What we always do," Bobby responded; his tone calm and matter-of-fact. "Wait and see."

"But what if we wait too long?" Dean pressed anxiously; unable to shake the feeling that they should be heading to the hospital instead of to Bobby's house.

Bobby smiled softly at Dean's candid concern over Sam; reminded that while Dean was confident and capable, he was still just a kid himself. And right now, he was a scared kid; a big brother scared about his little brother's seemingly deteriorating health.

And anybody who knew Dean knew that John's oldest could handle anything...except something happening to Sam.

Bobby sighed, feeling Dean's gaze across the wrecker's bench seat. "We won't," he reassured about them waiting too long to see how Sam's condition progressed.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the simple answer but didn't respond; instead tightening his hold around his brother as Sam shifted and sighed in his sleep.

"Dean..."

Dean nodded that he had heard Bobby but still didn't speak; staring out the passenger side window and deciding that if Sam wasn't better by the time John arrived at Bobby's house later that night, then he was going to insist they take the kid to the hospital.