Title: After Those Months

Author: Stacee Phelps

Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' does not belong to me and I am not getting paid for writing this. Any and all privileges go to the CW and Eric Kripke. Lucky them.

Author's Notes: Yes, I know I already wrote a tag to this episode, but this one has been driving me insane ever since I wrote 'Either Way'. So, here's more angst to go along with the STUPDENOUS episode 'Mystery Spot'.

Oh, and the summary is a line taken from my other story, 'Either Way'. (which, you COULD read too… HA HA)

NEW!! This story was reposted with corrections since I cannot stand it being canoningly (?) incorrect. I originally had the time the Trickster made Dean dead as three months, when really it was six.

Timeline: Post 'Mystery Spot'

Warning: Language because yes, I have just as much (if not worse) of a potty mouth as our lovely Dean.

Summary: "I hunted everything by myself. If I got injured, I would just get a motel room and handle it…"

SN

Dean was pissed, and that was almost an understatement. The hunt he and Sam had just finished had gone alright, a typical hunt as far as hunts go. No one had gotten hurt, they each had only been thrown a record of twice, and they had gotten the creature that was terrorizing the local woods. All in all, it was one of their best hunts in a while.

However, the oldest Winchester was still not happy. In his opinion, the hunt had gone well but some things were still off. Ever since the incident with the Trickster and the Mystery Spot a couple of weeks before, Sam had been acting strange. He was quieter and kept even more to himself, but he also was kind of clingy. Not the whole "I love you, Dean, hold me!" clingy but the whole "I can't leave Dean's side because he'll either a) go missing or b) die".

Guiding the Impala into the parking lot of the most recent of their ratty motels, Dean parked a little ways down from their room and easily swung out of the driver's seat. Carefully closing his door, he pretty much ignored Sam as the younger man climbed more slowly out of the vehicle.

Opening the trunk and grabbing his duffel as well as the weapons bag, Dean brushed past his brother as he dug his room key out of his jacket pocket. Entering the motel and easily throwing his bags onto his bed, he walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light switch. Turning on the water and splashing some on his face and neck, he dried off and felt a little better.

Hearing Sam enter the room behind him and shutting the door, the older brother came to a sudden decision. Exiting the bathroom and barely looking at Sam as he passed, he pulled his car keys out of his pocket as he came to the door.

"Ok, Kill Joy, I'm going to find the local bar and have some fun. Don't wait up." Knowing and hearing Sam's beginning protests, he left the hotel room and headed towards his car, whistling as he went.

Back in the motel room, Sam watched the door with an open mouth expression. Blinking his eyes slightly, he mildly dropped into a sort of trance as he heard the Impala roar to life and start to leave. Several moments later, in which he could no longer hear the engine of his brother's baby, he wearily dropped down to the bed behind him.

Shaking his head and sighing deeply, he suddenly hissed and pressed a hand to his side. Slowly unzipping the jacket he wore, he gently peeled off the offending material and nearly gasped as the clothing caught on the flayed edges of his chest. Keeping his right arm close to his body to minimize the pull on his injured skin, Sam tried to take even breaths through the pain that stabbed at him.

Looking at the mess his chest was at the moment, he nearly sagged in defeat when he saw the blood still trailing down his body. Closing his eyes, he continued his breathing and thought back on how he had even gotten injured.

It was right after Dean had gotten thrown. The creature they were hunting had come out of nowhere as usual and the older brother had been swatted heavily to the ground. Sam had turned to Dean but the creature got to the younger Winchester before he could even start heading for his fallen brother. He was slightly off guard as it hit him with a hard swipe as he turned and had caught him hard across his right side. Adding injury to hurt, the creature had then got him with its other claw and sent him flying in the opposite direction of Dean before he could cry out.

After that, they had each been sent flying one other time each and then Dean had got a lucky shot off. Dropping the creature and being very satisfied with himself, Dean had then gone on to salt and burn its carcass while Sam had gathered up their fallen equipment- after making sure to zip up his jacket to hide this newest injury.

Shaking his head at his stupidity at not mentioning the wound to Dean, Sam opened his eyes and slowly reached over for the medical kit. Opening the lid one handedly and then grabbing the scissors, he uneasily lifted his arm from his side and had to gulp and stop as pain shot up his chest. Waiting a moment longer, he held the bottom of his shirt with his right hand and cut up his clothing with the left. His shirt was beyond ruined even before he cut it…

Dropping the scissors back into the medkit, he winced marginally as he reached for the holy water first. Not knowing what the creature could have been carrying, he unscrewed the lid on the small flask and took a deep breath before emptying the water onto his wound.

A cry tried to escape from his lips as the wound steamed a little, but he tightened his lips and doused his side again. Stopping after his wound ceased steaming, he screwed the lid back on the canteen with shaking hands. Sitting back further on the bed, he next reached for the hydrogen peroxide. Having to place the dark bottle between his knees to be able to take off the lid, he suddenly nearly jumped out of his skin as keys rattled in the lock and the motel door swung open.

"You know, Sam, I started thinking as I drove away. I plan on getting completely trashed and finding a lady. I do not want my baby to suffer… What in the hell are you doing?" Dean's last question was asked in a slow pace and his tone was nearly monotone as he took in the sight of his baby brother treating his own injury.

Sam dropped the hydrogen peroxide to the floor and cursed as the liquid started to soak into the carpet. Not thinking, he reached down to pick up the bottle and nearly passed out right there as his side told him just how stupid of a move he had just made. Tipping over and unable to stop himself, he only vaguely felt his brother catch him as his side erupted in agony.

Whimpering slightly, he was then made aware of his brother as Dean started to cuss him out while gently lifting him back onto the bed, this time laying down. "Damn it, Sam, what the hell were you thinking?" his question was softly asked and he shook his head as he helped his younger brother rearrange himself on top of the bedcovers.

"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? Geez, Sam…" stripping his leather jacket off and throwing it behind him, he moved the medkit out of his way and leaned over Sam to gently prod the torn skin on the other's right side. Sam was quickly becoming unfocused and his eyesight was swimming.

"Ah, Dean, it hurts," his weak voice carried to his brother, and Dean instinctively placed a hand on Sam's forehead and leaned closer to place his temple right next to Sam's head.

"Sh, it's ok, little brother. I'm going to take care of everything."

Sam smiled slightly and then closed his eyes, easily entrusting himself over to his big brother's comforting and familiar hands.

Dean, despite the situation, smiled at the sight and moved to his brother's injury. Hissing himself at the claw marks, he reached for the cloths and gauze inside the kit. "Well, Sammy, lets get started on this…"

SN

Sam awoke very slowly. Feeling beyond comfortable and drowsy, his eyes tried to open only to slide shut seconds later. Groaning as his body would not even respond to the simplest of commands, he attempted to shift and immediately stopped as agony stabbed viciously through his right side. Suddenly remembering everything that had happened, his eyes flew open and he looked around.

Seeing Dean sitting across from him, perched on the side of his own bed, Sam was surprised as his older brother just looked at him. Trying to smile, albeit weakly, Sam tried to get his left arm under him so he could sit against the headboard. However, that plan went out the window as his side said quite plainly, "Stop moving idjit!"

Letting out a low breath and closing his eyes, he felt the bed dip as Dean moved to sit next to him. Looking up at his brother, Sam waited but obviously, he was being made to speak first.

"I didn't do it intentionally you know…"

"So you're blaming me for you not telling me that you got hurt?" Dean's eyebrows went up and Sam's did, too. Dean was being WAY too calm about all this.

"No, I just meant that…" taking a deep breath, Sam decided to just blurt it out as he looked away from his brother. "After the Trickster made it that you were… dead for six months, I just got so used to taking care of myself," he shrugged. "I guess when you left, I didn't even think anything of it and just started to take care of it myself."

Dean just stared at his brother, gaping. "You mean… in six months, you were able to take care of any injury by yourself?" Sam didn't even respond.

"What was the worst?"

Sam looked at his brother strangely but noticed that Dean really wanted to know. Sighing and rolling his eyes, trying to shift to get more comfortable and yet avoid pain, Sam sat back to think. After a second, the worse one came to mind.

"Uh, I got shot one time. I barely remember what happened, but it was in my left side, just to the side of my lung."

Dean gaped even more. Swallowing and clearing his throat didn't make him think of anything else to say to that and he just watched his brother. Sam, for his part, mostly seemed embarrassed.

"It wasn't that big a deal. The bullet wasn't even that deep and I barely bled… oh yeah, and it didn't even really happen, so…"

"God, Sammy," Dean's hazel eyes examined his brother and sorrow filled their depths. 'What is this going to do to you, little brother?'

Sam sighed. "It's not that big of a deal, Dean."

Dean leant forward and ran a hand through his short hair. "When you told me what happened, I just didn't even think about what would have happened when you got hurt. Sammy, I just didn't think… I mean, you really were going to sew yourself up and everything?"

The younger Winchester grunted in insult. "You did it all the time, Dean, what's so different about me doing it?"

Rolling his eyes at his brother's pointed glare, Sam shrugged as much as he could. "I'm sorry, Dean, I just didn't even think."

Dean shook his head. "No, I didn't either. I just assumed and didn't even ask you if you were hurt. Just, please, Sammy, don't do this again. I know it wasn't your fault, but please just tell me next time. Don't let me walk out on you possibly dying."

His brother simply nodded and Dean gave a small smile.

"Wow, Sammy. Those months were kind of rough, weren't they?"

Unbidden (he blamed his injury), tears sprang to Sam's eyes. Swallowing the lump in his throat and latching his eyes onto his brother's figure, he whispered, "Take when I died and times it by a million. Six months was hard enough, Dean, I can't even imagine what it's going to be like if the deal really happens."

Dean kicked off his boots and climbed up further on the bed, sitting next to Sam so that they were shoulder to side against the headboard. Sam looked up to his brother as Dean placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know if we can find a way out of this, Sammy, but if there is a way… I'm pretty sure you'll find it."

Sam smiled sadly and nodded. Turning as much as he could towards his brother, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling Dean's familiar scent.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" Sam's voice was already getting softer, the pain and weakness dragging him back into darkness.

"You were hallucinating this entire time, ok? This so wasn't a chick-flick thing. Got it?"

Chuckling and already pretty much asleep, Sam didn't answer as he finally drifted off.

THE END

Ok, I know, kind of pathetic. But, this idea wouldn't leave me alone and I wanted to get something out. The whole short, one-shot thing is kind of hard for me. But, anyway, PLEASE review!!

Stacee Phelps