--I want 2 thank darksupernatural 4 the awesome reviews. Thanx 4 pointing out my blunder. just so u know I took ur advice. N-joy!!--


Sam was scared. Dean just wasn't acting like Dean. Sam kept waiting for him to crack a smart-ass joke or yell at Sam for worrying so much and acting like a friggin girl. But it didn't happen. The only sound Sam heard from him was his ragged breathing from the back seat in the Impala.

"Sam we have to take him to a hospital." Bobby said, not taking his eyes off the road. Sam sighed.

"Bobby do you really want to have to explain this to someone? Let alone doctors." He said quietly. Bobby knew he was right. People would wonder what happened. Who hurt him. Why he and Sam hadn't filed a missing persons report. Bobby knew there was a motel about twenty minutes away. They'd have to care for Dean there.

"Can he last another twenty minutes?" Bobby asked.

"He's lasted this long." Sam said. Bobby pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor.

Dean hurt. He was confused and delirious. Images of Meg swam in front of his face. One minute he thought he was back in the warehouse, the next, back in the car. He wanted this terrible pain to end. But it was relentless. He tried to control his breathing, it was no use. It was ragged, labored and quick. A stab of pain shot through his back.

"Ah." He moaned softly. A hand touched his shoulder.

"It's alright Dean," Sam's voice said. "We're almost there." Sam's hand left. Dean tried to sit up. He wanted to tell Sam he was okay. To tell him not to worry. But he couldn't. It hurt to breathe let alone move. Man was he cold. A wave of memory from that painful hell crashed over him.

"Sam.." He whispered. But Sam couldn't hear him. For a moment Dean thought he was alone again, until he heard the rumble of his car. "Sam." He said a little louder. Sam's hand touched his face.

"It's gonna be okay. Me and Bobby'll make sure of it." The hand was gone again. Dean remembered that just yesterday, he was driving his car into a motel parking lot with Sam. Relatively safe and unharmed. He was grateful, however, that it had been him and not Sam. He would rather go through that a thousand times than have to find Sam in the state Dean himself was in.

The car slowed and Dean felt it turn. He knew they weren't at a hospital, he did know his little brother. They were probably at a motel. Lights shown down in the car making Dean's eyes sting. The car stopped. The driver's side door opened and shut. A few minutes later the door repeated the same pattern. When the car stopped again, both doors opened. His own door opened and Sam's face appeared above his own. Then, gently Sam sat Dean up and pulled him out of the car, Dean's arms laying across Sam and Bobby's shoulders. In a few moments they were inside, and Dean was unconscious.

They laid Dean down carefully on a bed. Bobby unzipped his bag and pulled out a first aid kit. Sam stood beside Dean...numb. He couldn't move, breathe.

This isn't my brother. He thought. It can't be. This isn't real. He swayed slightly. Suddenly Bobby's hand was on his shoulder.

"It's alright Sam." He said. Sam nodded, but he wasn't so sure. He remembered the hell he had brought Dean out of. The smeared blood across the walls, the bloody knife, the smell of burnt flesh, and Dean, hanging from the ceiling. Sam shuddered.

Carefully, Bobby began cleaning Dean up. He was sure half of his wounds were infected. He pulled out a bottle of peroxide and poured it on a rag. He gently touched it to one of Dean's large cuts. Dean hissed and tensed up. Sam felt sick. Bobby sighed. It was gonna be a long night.

Dean woke hours later, scared. At first he didn't know where he was, if he was back with Meg or not. His body still blazed with pain. After he'd been through so much the pain stayed. He looked around wildly, attempting to sit up.

"Shh, Dean." Sam said, tenderly laying him back down. "It's okay, you're okay." He soothed. Dean looked at his brother, relieved.

"Sammy," he whispered. "Man am I glad to see you." Sam smiled. Dean noticed the tear tracks down his little brother's face. "I'm sorry." Dean said hoarsely.

"For what?" Sam asked, confused.

"I've ruined your life. If it wasn't for me, Dad would be alive. So would Jess. You'd be happy instead of tailing my stupid ass." Dean looked toward the wall. "I'm sorry." A stab of pain shot through Dean's body. "Ah!" He yelled. Sam touched a wet cloth to Dean's forehead.

"You've got nothing to be sorry about Dean. If I could do it all over just to save you I would. And dude," Sam smiled gently. "You have an infection in most of your wounds, a 103 degree fever and three fractured ribs. You need sleep." Dean nodded and closed his eyes.

Sam was still worried. He was worried Meg would come back, he was worried that Dean would probably have the worst nightmares he'd ever had in his life. He was worried that this war would end up killing them both. But right now, he was glad to have his brother back.


--I want to thank everyone 4 the awesome reviews. Couldn't have done it without you!! Should I make a sequel? Push the perdy button and tell me!!--