1Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Supernatural characters. Stares longingly at Jensen Ackles. Sighs. Bangs head on desk.

Sam's hand shot out and grasped the back of Dean's jacket. He was barely able to keep Dean from taking a nose dive onto the pavement. He was amazed that Dean hadn't passed out yet as he stumbled from the bar. The blood was still oozing down, sliding over the goofy grin that was plastered to his face. His eyes darted wildly and couldn't seem to focus. He suddenly lurched forward as his feet shot out from beneath him. Sam desperately tried to keep him upright, but failed. Dean got a face full of parking lot. Laughter shook his body as he sat up slowly.

"Sammy. You know what? I think I got his wallet. You know, when he was sittin on me."

He triumphantly whipped a brown leather wallet from his back pocket. He awkwardly chucked toward Sam. It sailed a few feet over Sam's head and landing with a thud it skid across the pavement. It came to rest under a small red car. Dean again shook with laughter. Sam grunted as he dropped to the ground. He flattened himself and slid under the car. He pulled out the old, worn wallet. Flipping to the license he couldn't help but let out a small snort as he stared down at his brother's picture.

"Dean. This is your wallet."

Sam turned to Dean who was now busy throwing rocks at a tree. He wasn't having much luck getting the rocks to go straight.

"What wallet?"

"Yeah. Okay. Let's go there big boy." Sam hauled Dean off the ground and once again they made there way toward Dean's impala.

"Where er we gointa?" Dean's words were jumbled and slurred.

"Back to the hotel. We need to get you cleaned up. I am really hoping it's the tequila talking. If you have a concussion we are screwed. We have no money. At all. Thanks to you and all the tequila you just downed. We would of been fine, probably would of got some money from that guy you were hustling. But no. One shot, two shot, three shots, four. You should of stopped than but you just had to have five. Then you had to get a beer bottle over the head. Smooth one there Dean." Sam knew he should get this all out while his brother was on the verge of passing out. Had Dean been fully aware of what Sam was saying, Sam would be in a painful position and pinned to the ground.

"Sammy, I like TEQUILA! Lets get some."

"We'll see how you like when it's comin back up." Sam waited for a slurred argument, but it never came. Instead there was a loud groan as Dean crumpled to the ground. Sam looked down and sighed. He heaved Dean up into a fireman's carry.

"Holy crap, Dean! No more burgers for you." Sam strained under his brothers weight. He carefully slid Dean into the passenger seat of the Impala. As he climbed into the drivers side Dean puked all over the floorboard. Sam cringed at the thought of cleaning that up later. Dean mumbled something that was incoherent before passing back out. Sam tore off down the road. He couldn't help but grin as he thought about how pissed Dean would be if he knew Sam was being so hard on his baby. He took a sharp turn into the hotel as Dean once again hurled all over the car. After successfully carrying his brothers limp body into the shabby room, Sam set to work on Dean's forehead. He pulled out the ugly, brown chunk of glass, cringing as more blood poured out. He then disinfected the area and started the stitches. There were barely enough supplies to pull it off, but he was able to make it work. He tucked Dean in and smiled as he thought of how cranky Dean was going to be tomorrow. He headed out side to scrub the puke and blood off the Impala's interior.

"Mary had a little lamb, whose fleece was white as..." Dean tried to move, tried to get up. Something was holding him down. He struggled to break free as the small children started closing in on him.

"And everywhere that Mary went the lamb was ..." Dean's eyes darted from one face to the next. He counted seven. All dressed in white. All singing. The harder he fought to get away the tighter he was held down. His eyes flashed around the room he was in. White. Everything was white. With the exception of one of the walls which contained some paintings. Well more like satanic symbols. Under the symbols in what appeared to be blood was a drawing of a large ...Lamb?

The children suddenly fell silent as a girl stepped into the circle. She had flowing brown hair that she quickly swept up into a messy bun. Her eyes looked Dean up and down. Her gaze became set on his. She gave him a devilish grin as she knelt beside him. She snapped her fingers and a young boy stepped forward, producing a large dagger from his back pocket. He laid it in the girls open hand. He stepped back into place as she began to mutter some words that Dean couldn't quite pick out. She raised the dagger over her head. Dean tried to scream, but nothing came out. In one swift movement she plunged the dagger deep into his stomach...

"Dean! Dean!" Sam burst out of the bathroom only half dressed with sopping wet hair. He ran to his brothers side. Sam gasped as he looked down at his brother. His pale skin glistened with sweat even though his teeth were chattering. His face was contorted in pain. His breath was coming out in short burst and he was grasping his stomach. "Dean? What's wrong? Come on man. Talk to me."

"Sammy! It hurts. Sammy!"

"Dean? What hurts? Your head?"

"Sammy. My stomach. Make it stop." Sam ripped the covers off of Dean and was shocked at what he saw. His brother was laying in a pool of blood that kept growing every second. The blood seemed to be pouring from his stomach. Sam ripped Dean's shirt off to reveal more blood gushing out. Sam searched Dean's stomach , but couldn't find the source. Sam balled up the blanket and pushed against Dean in hopes of stopping the bleeding. It seemed to help and the blood soon seemed to be coming out in no more than trickle. There was still so much blood on Dean that Sam couldn't find the source.

Sam dragged Dean into the small bathroom and heaved him into the tub. He quickly rinsed off the blood. Dean started to shake violently. Sam wrapped him in a towel and pulled him out of the tub. He carefully laid Dean on the clean bed. He closely inspected Dean's stomach, but found nothing out of the ordinary. There weren't even any bruises or small cuts. The only things there were a few old scars. Wait! Sam had never seen that scar before...

Soooooo? Good? Bad? Ugly? Let me know, please. Open to all hints and criticism!