OKaiiii, guys I know I should be finishing the many un-finised fics and thanks to Mimzsilver who has pointed that out, don't worry I am sorting them...but it might take a few re-writes to actually make them, make sense...or even come out at all good, so...yeah.

This fic is just a one-shot from staying up way too much of the night watching SN season 1 and 2 re-runs...and having random thoughts about what could happen, this is set early season 2...right after the crash and what happened in IMTOD and takes place from Dean's outburst on the Impala.

Disclaimer: Who..me?...oh noo I don't own them, but tiny brown furry elves that plough my garden and feed the cats do, ask them.

Summary: Dean's outburst on the Impala, the constant fights with no resolvments, staying at Bobby's for so long, Dean loses it with Sam but he's still worse off from the crash in season 1, when Dean goes too far and Sam ends up hurt, how do things fall back into place? One-shot. Angst/hurt/comfort. Dean angst too.

Warnings: language and violence, no spoilers...I can hopefully assume everyone has seen season 1 and early season 2...

if not, come on over to my house and hey, we'll have a snack-athon and movie marathon, whatcha' say?

Ok, here it goes...by the way it was like brewed up in my mind at like half 3 am, so...any errors, spelling and grammer- I'M SO SORRY!

One more sorry- for medical termingology...and treatments or ways to treat things...I'm 16...and erm...me know about hospital methods and doc's procedures...nahhh...so sorry upfront, but enjoy x

thanks x

Reviews are cookie coated Sammy's.


"Sam...for gods sake, can't you just let things go!...I get you're hurtin' man but stop bugging me about it, I deal with things on my own!" The wrench hit the hard compacted dirt at his feet, fallen with the scattered glass.

Dean had all but yelled in Sam's face. Sam had heard the crashing of the impala and another heart-to-heart moment was about to ensue, and for the love of him Dean couldn't take anymore, not that it was Sam, but talking about Dad, about what was and how he missed him, already in the past, Dean didn't want to face that yet. He didn't and couldn't do anything but fix the car, stay with Bobby and pick the clues to hunt the Yellow eyed bastard down. Right now, he could fix baby. So that was stone number one.

Dad wasn't dead, as far as Dean went, he was just missing on another job...Sam and himself were staying with Bobby, cos' the impala needed a tune-up.

Well...another one after that aswel.

"Dean, you can't keep it all inside like that, look what it's doing to you, what you did to the car...just talk about it once and a while, let it out." Sam whined, it wasn't healthy for Dean to keep things inside, and Sam just needed, begged, for someone to actually listen to him, to understand and maybe talk through it. He thought he could always do that with Dean.

"NO. Sam let it go, not out...I don't wanna' talk about this with you, not now." Dean shrugged away from his brother, he understood the kid was goin' through hell, he looked like it. But he wouldn't let things go. Sam still squared his shoulders and stared at Dean, with those damn sad puppy eyes too.

They hadn't slept in weeks and he was sure Sam was getting paler every day, he had constant nightmares that they didn't talk about and even had to go back to a local clinic for some pills to help the odd aches and pains left over from the crash, apparently Dean was a bill of clean health. And that wasn't oddly worrying Dean at all. Sam still needed some rest and medicine to cope through every day things, he still got weak and tired too soon, not to mention the headaches and chestpains. But it was getting better and hopefully soon Dean wanted to be out of there. They had a job to finish after all.

Escape onto a new hunt and drive his baby again, to get back to normal then he could still think Dad was still out there, Dad was alive.

"Dad's dead Dean, you can't ignore that." Sam wasn't fighting him, wasn't mad, just oddly calm.

well, so much for that.

"SAM...thank you for pointing out that important fact, and I am dealing with Dad's death, in my own way, so just back the hell off and let me!" Dean fought the urge to manhandle Sam out of his way, but the kid looked so beaten, so down that it hurt to look for too long.

Dean brushed past his brother and entered the porch steps into the house, Sam hid the flitting emotions of hurt and followed after him.

He had to talk to Dean about this, who else did he have?

"Dean..." The veranda door slammed shut, the screen door too and Sam huffed and squeezed the bridge of his nose, another headache threatened and he didn't want to deal with Dean in this mood feeling like shit. Sighing contendedly he followed hesitantly up the porch steps.

Opening the veranda doors, he found Dean in the kitchen staring out the window, a glass of half downed whiskey in his hand.

"Dean..." Sam's voice rasped, he put his hands in his pockets, and hunched his shoulders.

"What now?" Dean snapped, he turned red rimmed cold eyes on his brother and Sam stood back slightly.

"Man, I wanna' know how you are, I miss him and I- I don't know what to do anymore...how to- just how...what am I supposed to do...?" Sam's eyes watered as he glanced at the ceiling and inhaled deeply. "I miss him Dean...don't you?"

That was it. It drove Dean over the edge, it was never meant to, just as a way for Sam to engage his feelings to Dean, hoping for some sort of reaction, for an endless list of 'yes I do miss him Sam...this is what we're gonna' do' and for some truth in Dean's words to come out in the open, he never expected what Dean did next.

"You son of a bitch!...you think I don't miss Dad, you think I just ignored the fact he's dead now...that I can just forget him like that, do you?" Dean spat, he advanced wildly toward Sam, glass smashing as it hit the sink.

"Whoa Dean I didn't mean it like that I-"

"You think I could just cut him out of my life, every single day I think about Dad, what have you ever given thought to?...you never cared about him!" Dean pushed Sam backward and Sam stumbled, eyes stinging with tears.

"You- you really think that...that I don't think about him, Dean I couldn't stop thinking about Dad and you the whole time at Stanford...but I couldn't come back-"

Tears swirled in with hazel-blue-green as Sam shouted back.

"You walked out on him, you never gave a rats ass what Dad wanted until now...what the hell's that about?...you can't fix things now Sam, he's gone!"

Dean pushed him back again, as Sam backed up Dean followed as they backed into the living room and past the sofa to the door.

"I know that Dean, that's what I've been trying to talk to you about!...you won't listen and you're just as stubborn as him!" Sam yelled and lightly shoved Dean on the shoulder.

Dean's face blistered in anger. "Excuse me...what the hell does that mean? I was the one who raised you, at least Dad tried...you always went up against him, you two always argued and I had to fix things, well I'm sick of being in the middle!" Dean hit Sam back on his chest, Sam had to grab the couch or he'd have nose dived into the thread bare carpet. His ribs exploded in pain as he recovered and stood.

Sam glared at Dean, unshed tears threatening to fall, he turned his back and headed for the door. "You're not in the middle anymore, you don't have to worry about him." Sam muttered as he walked away from Dean, his heart sinking.

"What!" Dean stormed up to his brother spun him around by the shoulder and swung a left hook.

Sam took the punch with an impact he didn't expect on his right cheek with a grunt and flew backwards into the veranda doors, he crashed through both and landed with a head smacking thud and flop of his shaggy mop on the planked porch.


Bobby saw Sam crash through his doorway and ran up at top speed to find out what had caused the carnage.

Sam rolled to the side, gasping from the impact and slowly pulled himself up as Dean stomped out and glared down, Sam looked up defeated and broken and suddenly Dean didn't feel so tough, and he didn't feel so good about what he'd just done. Sam looked like he was almost afraid of him.

"Sam..I'm..." Dean looked down at his hands, shaking. They were shaking. How could he do that to his brother?...how could he do that to the most important thing left in his life? It was like his anger flew out of him, his cheeks were flushed, his heart pounding. He never wanted to hurt Sam, to cause that look on his little brothers face.

Sam tried to stand but fell back onto his knees.

Dean moved forward and held out a shaking hand to his fallen brother.

"Sam, let me help-"

"NO...just. Don't touch me. I'm fine." Sam breathed and used the porch railings to stand as he passed a worried Bobby who helped him sit down on the last step.

"Dean?" Bobby said. "What the hell you boy's been doin'?"

"Bobby, I didn't mean to...Sam he just...I couldn't talk about Dad, and he-...I, just...I'm sorry Sammy, I'm so sorry Sammy." Dean said, passing Bobby to sit with Sam.

Sam cradled his ribs and tried to breathe through the fiery pain in his chest, another headache beat its way with his heart and he could hear Dean lean his weight on the wood they shared.

"Sam..." A hand touched Sam's neck and he jerkily stood.

"Lay off Dean." His voice thick and muffled, holding in the tears.

Dean watched Sam walk away, holding his chest and stumble round the back into the salvage yard.

"Bobby...how could I?" Dean blinked to clear the moisture and swallowed the lump in his throat. He'd been so mad at Sam nagging him about their dad, about what they were going to do and honestly, Dean had no clue and he found it a struggle to hold that uncertainty for the both of them.

"Dean..if I were you, I'd let the kid have some time alone...maybe ease off. Don' go jumping the gun too soon son, it won't do anyone any favours...let him come back." Bobby patted Dean lightly on his chest as he passed the eldest Winchester and made his way over to the salvage yard around a few cars to Sam, crouched and from the looks of it brooding.

"Awww jesus...Sam?" Bobby asked gently, not treading anywhere he wasn't invited, even if it was his land.

"Did Dean send you?" Sam's voice was raw and grated to his own ears, Bobby winced.

"No, son...he's cooling down...I thought I might be able to talk to you." Bobby eased himself on an old Dodge Charger rusted to hell, next to Sam.

"There's nothing to talk about...he's been edgy, and I nagged too much...it was bound to happen sooner or later, it always did with Dad..." Bobby tried to ignore the way Sam's strong voice crumbled and broke when he mentioned their father.

"Boy, ain't a guy got a right to talk about stuff personal to his own brother without gettin' beat to hell for it..." Bobby asked, incredulous.

"Well, yeah but...no. I wouldn't leave him alone...he's always had to look out for me and he thinks I don't care about Dad, so...he'll shrug it off, it's what he does Bobby, I shouldn't of butted in...it's his way. His and Dad's way...it always was...ya' know this is stupid, he doesn't need me Bobby, he doesn't...want me around."

Both Bobby and Dean's heart broke at Sam's painful confession, Dean had followed intent on fixing things...when he heard them talking, he didn't want to just walk in...but ease-dropping and hearing that...felt so much worse. Dean stepped back, more hidden behind the used cars as he heard Sam get up and peered through the cracked rusting metal to catch a glimpse of his brother.

"Sammy...I can't believe that's what you think...How could I let you think that?...I've pushed at you too much kiddo, and I couldn't tell how broken you were..." Dean whispered.

Sam still had his arm around his ribs and a pained expression suddenly flitted through his features.

Dean's stomach dropped.

"Sam, ya' can't think like that, you're part of the family too Sam and sometimes it's a lil' hard seeing you as all he's got left, he doesn't want to lose you Sam, he's afraid if he holds on too strong you'll be taken away just as fast, it's just a defence...he doesn't mean it Kid, even I know that..." Bobby laid a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Maybe, he doesn't need me around...I've caused too much carnage and...what happened to Dad..." Sam shot his gaze at the floor, staring intently at flecks of sand and dust as his eyes watered. "I was driving, that's on me."

Dean huffed. No way was Sam blaming himself for the accident, that was some physco demon in a truck, no way could Sammy have prevented it...no way.

Dean couldn't take it anymore, Sam feeling like he's abandoned and that Dean doesn't need him is one thing but...for Dad...how much weight could the kid put on his own shoulders?

Bobby couldn't talk...no way had that stubborn kid just said what he thought he said, luckily...or unluckily as Sam would have it Dean walked around the corner, pure determination easily mistook for anger filled his manner.

"Sam...how could you?...-"

"I know Dean, ok...I'll stop pestering you, I'll leave, just...ok, I'm going. You don't have to worry about me messing up anymore, or you taking care of me...no-one's here to order you otherwise." it was said so softly and almost frightened Dean kept his mouth shut as Sam held his hands out, nodded to Bobby and started to walk away.

Walk away from Dean and the house, from the salvage yard and up to the road...was sam actually leaving?...did Dean push him away that much?

Hurriedly catching up to his brother Dean grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. "Sam I am not mad at you, I never have been. Get that clear for a start!"

Dean didn't slow his brother so ran ahead and put himself between Sam and his freedom.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for Dad's death Sammy, there was no way...no way you could of known, even if you did how would we escape the bastard demons driving that damn semi...?...Sammy, none of this was your fault and I've been pushing you away too long...this isn't your fault, don't walk away Sam." Dean whispered. "Please."

Sam was still bracing himself with one arm, leaning slightly, he was paler than Dean remembered him looking earlier and he wasn't holding himself as strongly as Dean would've liked.

"I can't face it Dean...when I look at you and see myself in your eyes I know it's my fault, I was driving-"

"You couldn't of saved him Sam, or stop the accident from happening."

"Like I couldn't save Jessica..." A splash hit the dirt below Sam, small in size and quickly was soaked up by the hot sand, Sam sniffed and wiped his eyes.

Suddenly everthing made some sort of sense, Sam was blaming himself for everything from the very start of this, he'd seen what was going to happen to Jess but how could someone know? How could they just believe from seemingly nothing?...and how could someone blame themselves for something no mortal could've stopped, psychic dreams or not.

"Sam..." Dean breathed. He was still holding firmly onto Sam's jacket with both hands. Dean shook his head and Sam just blinked away the tears.

Shrugging out of Dean's desperate hold was a struggle and far more tougher than he would've thought but the sharp gasp as Sam pulled and twisted away and the way he stumbled the next few steps sent Dean running for his baby brother.

Dean yelled at the top of his lungs for Bobby and caught Sam as he turned and fell into Dean's arms, chest to chest, Dean braced him to his knees as Sam breathed through the pain in gasps.

"Sam...Sammy?...what is it?...what's wrong?" Dean repeated, over and over, in different orders or tones but always the same words and then as Sam sunk into him, Dean rested his head atop Sam's dark brown curls and held him tightly whispering reassurances into his ear.

"It's okay Sammy, you're gonna' be ok...just tell me where it hurts..."

"Ahhhh..." Sam took a sharp inhale through his teeth and fisted Dean's shirt still leaning into his older brother. His guardian. His saviour. His proctecter.

His dad...almost...Dean was everything John never was...

"Shhhh...shhhh Sammy, you're okay, Bobby know's what he's doing. Where Sam?" Dean helped Bobby lay him flat on the ground. Careful with their gentle touch.

"Ch-chest...ahhh...god Dean,...I'm, mmm sorry...please..." Sam pleaded as the pain rushed through him, and drained his energy.

"Shhhh...it's okay, there is nothing to be sorry for. Now just stay still and breathe with me, ok...c'mon Sam, in...and out..."

Sam's laboured eratic breathing was making the pain worse but the more Sam felt the pain the more he panicked and breathed faster, causing shock to tighten it's grips on him and the cycle was endless.

"Sam, you need to calm down for me boy...I'm gonna' check your chest, shout, spit, yell, scream, hell even curse and kick out at me if I hurt you too much..." Bobby smiled warmly and took out his knife, slicing through Sam's shirt.

Sam's chest heaved when the warm sun bathed down on his exposed chest, Bobby stared wide-eyed for a second while Dean did a double take.

Bright blue and purple bruising covered the whole of Sam's left side, expanding over his abdomen with yellows and swollen pinks.

"Sam...jesus...is all of this from the crash?" At Sam's weak nod, Dean fell back on his backside and skidded closer to his brother. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

When Sam gave a hesitant blink in Dean's direction his heart almost broke.

It was what Sam was going to telll him earlier...talk about the whole thing with their Dad and the crash...talk about some downtime, what they were going to do next.

"How could I ignore you like that?...I'm sorry Sammy, you're gonna' be okay though, you'll see." Dean squeezed Sam's hand as Bobby lightly pressed over the pink swollen area's and Sam gasped trying to curl inward.

"Sorry Sam, I'll be slower..." Bobby reached up to the blue and purple bruises stark against Sam's pale skin, probing where the most colourful bruises lay above his ribs, Sam choked back a scream and arched his back in pain.

"Whoa, sorry Sam...just breath through that okay, take it easy." Bobby cooed and turned to Dean with a sour face.

"The kids busted a few ribs, definatley broken...seems like they've been trouble for awhile..." Bobby's angry frown made Dean feel so much smaller and worse, Dean had caused this, the pushing, the door, the fighting...Dean had broken Sammy, more than Jessica, their Dad and the crash ever did...he felt sick with himself. He should of known about this from day one.

"Oh god..." Dean paled.

"Dean, help me get him inside...I know a guy that can help, he's a surgeon in our line of work. He owes me a favour...I'll call him in. Just be gentle...if we jostle Sam too much it could puncture a lung and then we're in the real deep shit."

Dean nodded and went to stand beside Sam's left arm, Bobby the right as they readied to lift him into the house.

"De...an...please. Make t'stop...ahhhhh, don't..." Dean released his hold on his brother.

"Bobby...he's in too much pain...we can't move him." Dean begged Bobby with his eyes, even the old hunter hated seeing Sam in such a state.

"We'll move fast...just grab him and haul him into the house, on the couch...ok." At Dean's sad nod they began to re-arrange Sam's arms again move for an easier, faster lift.

"On three...one...two...three." Three was said with a grunt and pained cry as Sam was jostled as he was carried over speedy limps by elder hunters past the wrecked cars, and taking two steps at a time up the porch and dropping Sam gently, easing him onto the moth eaten sofa.

"Ahhhhh..." Dean tried to ignore Sam's gasps and cries, at least enough so Bobby could call his emergency contact without screaming for everything to be okay.

While Bobby found his friends number and called in the favour in the kitchen, Dean sat with Sam, stroking his hair back onto his forehead for it to just flop back in place, over and over. It was a method since childhood and it seemed to ease if not some of Sam's pain.

Bruised knuckles clasped over pale shaky hands and Dean gazed down at Sam, whispering his sorrys and sins as Sam weakly looked back.

"Shhh...you're gonna' be fine Sam. I'm so sorry for pushing you...for pushing you over the edge, I should of known you weren't a hundred percent. If I'm honest neither the hell am I...but you didn't deserve it Sam and I'm sorry...it will never happen again...I swear."

Sam nodded slowly.

"M' too..."

Dean's eyes began to water he was sure he was gonna' start a fountain if he let them loose, sniffing briefly, Dean re-directed his gaze and breathed deeply, then glanced back at his brother.

"Now where are those pills?...Bobby mentioned a docter giving you something ages back..." Dean asked.

"Didn't take them..." Sam smiled weakly, youthful freckles thought extinct reappeared in the paleness and Dean was sent back to Sam's youth.

So fragile and innocent. You still are Sammy...always will be... Dean thought.

"What?...why?" Dean asked, exasperated.

"They made m' feel tired...sick..." Dean caught a flash of dimples as shock numbed Sam's body, the pain took hold and cut across his senses like a razor, but it was too much. Sweat threaded its salted beads across his brow above the clammy cool skin.

"Well, you ain't doin' too good for yourself now kid..." Bobby said as he sat next to Dean. "Doc's on his way, be about fifteen minutes. He can fix Sam up Dean..."

"What can he do that we can't?" Dean said, holding firmer to Sam's hand in his, feeling the need to look out for Sam was his natural born instinct and not being able to help unlike some 'Docter' Bobby knew was grating on him.

"Wrap them ribs properly for a start...maybe even minor surgery...I don't know how bad it is Dean and Doc Sanders will."

At Dean's hard glare Bobby widened his eyes. "Do you know of a spare X-ray machine I have in the back?"

Well...that finished that argument.

Dean held his tongue, if Sam had to have surgery...even minor it was still surgery and that still meant cutting someone open...and that meant blood, and there was just too much blood shed in the last few weeks to compansate.


By the time Doc Sanders arrived, the couch pillows were laid out so that Sam was laying flat, out of it thank god and supported underneath his head by Dean's folded jacket.

Without even feeling the kid the Doc knew Sam's ribs were broken and that he had damaged lungs, probably from the strain of breathing in their condition, Bobby and Dean left him alone with Sam while they waited behind closed doors in the kitchen, over a glass of Jack.

"You think Sam'll be ok in there with him...he was out of it wasn't he?..what if he wakes up and I'm not with him, he'll-"

"Calm down boy, Sam'll be fine. Doc's just checking him over, running some tests...and Sam is out, I gave him enough morphine to outlast you on a drinking bender...he's fine." Bobby sighed.

Dean stood with his arms folding, fist tight around the drink in his hand.

"I shouldn't of done it Bobby...I ignored him for so long because I didn't want to hear it, to face up to the truth with Dad, I told him not to put his problems on me...but I've been his problem. I wouldn't listen."

"Now Dean, you know Sam...the kid justs needs a good listener...you weren't doing anything wrong, just dealing in your own way."

"Exactly, my way...I didn't even bother to think how he was dealing...if he was ok after the crash...we never spoke, about the hospital stay, about the car, anything...I never even asked him if he was okay. He found dad."

"Well I wouldn't worry...Sam thinks the world of you Dean, and ain't no one can take that away from him." To Dean's unbelieving glance Bobby continued. "Times are hard right now Dean, trust me...it'll get better."

Dean scoffed and took another sip of the bourbon liquid. "Yeah, what if that world that he thinks of me...is a huge fake and I let him down...again?"

Bobby shook his head and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, pulling his worn baseball cap with him.

"Sam sees you surrounded in white light with a halo Dean, ain't nothing that's gonna' tarnish twenty-three years of lookin' up ta' you...There was a time he believed you could do anything. Not all that goes away when you grow up."

The living room shutters opened briefly and a strongly built fifty-ish man with greying hair closed it softly behind him.

"Sam's doin' okay...I put him on a drip, just for fluids and some pain relief, to help him sleep through the night. Three broken ribs I've taped and wrapped but I'm a little concerned they might need to be set/ There's partial damage to his lungs around the rib breaks but that can be fixed with some tablets and rest. He'll be very sore for awhile and while he's still taking the medication I'm not sure to go ahead and give him some more but, he's okay...needs to take things very easy, but okay. He'll live."

"Thanks Shawn, you have no idea how handy this was, I appreciate it..." Bobby shook the mans hand and invited him to the table for a drink.

Dean frowned. "What other medication?...he said he quit weeks ago..."

Shawn thinned his lips at Dean. "I found traces in his blood...he's been taking them recently...it's calming his stress levels and probably stopped the full attack today."

Dean gave Bobby a confused look. "What attack?...what are you talking about?"

"Panic attack...what happened today...you two didn't know?" The Docter asked, shocked.

"NO...what the hell is goin' on?" Dean spat.

"Sam's been suffering from a series of attacks, so to speak, when mass strain or stress occurs...it's sometimes caused by anxiety and can cuase muscle tension or headaches, sweating, dizziness, irregular heart rate, rapid breathing, nightmares...it can become quite a serious condition but thankfully Sam's isn't the worst case I've had." The Doctor explained. "The medication he's been on suggests he's had this awhile. His blood pressure matches and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he's got some level of anxiety."

"Jesus...and he's been keeping that from us?" Dean said, concerned. "Does he think I'd be ashamed or something?...or maybe he tried to tell me and like the rest of the time I just ignored it...ignored him."

"No son, this has been happening I'd say from soon after the accident, I'm sorry to have heard about that by the way boys. These things flare in stressful situations, dramatic life changes, it could have been caused by an argument...panic or sudden severe fear of something, someone...depression, it can be a lot of things..."

"What about his ribs?...do you think anything like that would've caused it?" Bobby asked nervously, Dean too afraid to ask for fear of the answer.

"Not completely, although these attacks can link to physical injury it's most likley something stirred up that Sam has been weary of, or avoiding...the ribs wouldn't of helped I might add, or the nightmares...he's certainly had a lack of sleep, decent meals, hence the drip..." The Doc trailed off.

"What do we do now?...is there treatments?... something to calm him down?... how will we know if it happens again?" Dean huffed out in a rush.

"No permenant treatments of such, but a person can usually get over them...stop the element that stresses them out or causes the anxiety, someone close can be used to calm a person down, rest and relax exercises...but it shouldn't happen again on this scale, if he takes the medication and has propper rest. If this does occure again you will notice shortness of breath and tight pains in the chest, constricting, rapid heartbeat and shock can sometimes follow on worser cases..."

At Dean's worried face Shawn continued. "But to do with the attack, not an aflicted injury...the shock Sam went through today was wound inflicted and I suspect doing more than he should have been. He should rest until fully healed, it prevents a repeat performance."

Bobby sighed and hung his head. "If i'm not blessed with these boys...thanks Doc, for coming out special..." Bobby shared the last drink with Sanders before he said good bye and saw him out.

After his friend had gone Bobby and Dean shared a serious yet compassionate glance and prepared for the rest of the night and morning to come.


"Did you know?...did you even have any idea this affected Sam?" Dean asked, wearing his heart on his sleeve...well, that was an understatement.

"No, I'm the same as you...can't understand how and why he'd want to keep something like that a secret though...it could have really caught him at a bad time."

Bobby brushed a hand through his beard.

"I don't know Bobby man...you think he'll tell us when he wakes up?"

"Maybe...but it's been three hours already, whatever the Doc gave him, it'll keep him out all night...might as well start in the morning, get some sleep Dean or you'll be just as rough."

Dean sighed heartily, but did as he was told and set up a bed, or in his way a very comfy lounge chair next to a deeply sleeping Sam and settled in for the night.

Bobby shook his head at the very well known Winchester stubborness, and made his own way to his desk-side bed.


The next morning, Bobby came downstairs to find Dean gazing at Sam, tear tracks down his cheeks and his heart went out for the pair. They really didn't deserve as much crap as they were dealt, but heck...that was life, everybody got a load of shit thrown at them now and again, but not constantly like the Winchesters did.

And there was that time Bobby remembered someone actually got shit thrown at them...but that's for another day. He smiled at the memory and walked toward the restless Dean and laid a calming hand on his shoulder.

"You alright Dean?"

"Yeah..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah...I'm fine."

Bobby sorted out some coffee and filled a glass of water for Sam.

Suddenly, a rough paper soft voice filled the room and all eyes stared at the couch.


"Man...you're supposed to be telling us that...I mean, friggin' panic attacks Sam...anxiety, headaches, nightmares...what-" Dean huffed, he honestly didn't know what else to say, he was hoping Sam would...and stop the akwardness between them. His tone was worried and frightened into a frenzy, and Sam saw that.

With his head held low Sam sighed deeply. "I didn't want you to find out this way...sorry." When Sam looked back up, his eyes were brimming with tears and shame.

"I'm not mad Sam...just...didn't you want me to know?...did I push you away before you could?"

Sam's sad look told him everything he needed to know and Dean felt like being punched right there and then, until some sense could be knocked into him.

Sam had been trying to find the words to tell Dean but the oppurtunity when Dean wasn't snapping at his face never arose, and with how everything turned out, who could blame Sam for not telling Dean? After the car crash and everything John said, if it wasn't for Sam, Dean would've been okay, but they would have lost a father...and then the wreck...how could he admit to some other defeat of some stupid stress disorder crap, when he was piling every other world guilt on himself.

Why didn't he save world hunger?

Why didn't he stop droughts?

How could he tell Dean how weak he was, because he was suffering some pathetic medical thing a docter made up? How could he survive the embarassment and the look in Dean's eyes when he failed him again? He was a Winchester, he wasn't supposed to get sick or fuck up.

"I'm sorry Dean...I couldn't not after everything, I thought I'd be okay."

"What about the pills?...you told me lastnight you stopped taking them, but the Doc found some...trace or something in your blood and you'd taken something recently...what's that about?...since when did we start hiding things?" Dean said softly. He wasn't in the least bit mad or aggitated, his tone all big brother.

"These are different, just to calm me down. S'posed to stop the panic from starting...I...I just...I'm sorry you had to see that..."

"You had any before?"

Sam was deathly quiet a moment.

"In the hospital...after Dad..." Sam choked. Body still on the couch.

Dean paled, how could he not have known?..."When were you going to tell me?" Dean nearly whispered.

"I wasn't...sorry, about keeping this Dean. I never meant for it to get out of hand, ya' know?"

"Yeah...but I'm going to make sure they never happen again, and you don't break anything else." Dean rubbed his eyes with balled hands and ran a hand down his face. "You need to take it easy dude. I mean, call me if you want a glass of water kind of rest..."

For the first time, Sam glanced down at his ribs, wrapped and throbbing like hell. "They're broken?"

"Well...it might of had something to do with me beating you out the door...but, yeah. I'm sorry Sammy."

"It's okay...I'll know when to shut up next time..." He smiled softly.

"So you're staying?" Dean beamed.

"Yeah..someone's got to look out for the pain in the ass of a little brother who always gets into trouble..."

"I'm glad you see it like that." Dean laughed, Sam joined in. "I'm glad I've got that job. Sorry I've been sucky at it for awhile."

Sam smiled, his glowing hazel eyes shining at Dean's reflection of honesty, Dean grinned back and his emereld orbs sparkled with light.

Or were they tears?


"Hey, can we just be clear that, ahem," Dean coughed and smiled with sad eyes, converying his seriousness. "If you ever require medical help, you will follow the orders of a medical proffesional."

Sam nodded stiffly. A small smile on his lips even as he winced to move and held his hand out.

Dean shook it, felt how weak Sam was beneath his touch and it really hit home how south this could've gone.

"Seriously, Sam...Bobby called a guy called Shawn, he did all kindsa' tests." Dean let a laugh bubble out and his eyes wrinkled as he grinned at Sam's slightly worried glances.

"Dude was a Doctor!" Dean said gleefully. "Owed a favour, don't worry. You fucking scared me though Sam, you scared Bobby!" Dean laughed jokingly. Even though this was so not fucking a joke.

Sam held a sad smile, took a deep breath.

"Don't really know what to say. Sorry." Sam said quietly.

Dean nodded, happy Sam had understood how serious this was.

"Just gotta' tell me that stuff man. You are not okay, and I know I'm not either dude. I'm fine! Out of a coma, but fine. What the fuck!? But you dude..."

Dean leant forward and let his knee touch Sam's on the sofa.

"Sam, you broke three ribs, numerous other scrapes, were in a car crash and saved us. You didn't get properly checked out, you didn't follow Doctor's orders, Rule number 8 by the way..." Dean gave Sam a sideways glance. "And...you don't share the serious crap so when things go bad, they generally go bad."

"I've had enough of bad Sammy. Please just tell me this stuff, I know...I know I haven't listened but dude, This whole thing is a pile of fuck and...and I dunno. I don't know what to do either."

Dean swallowed thickly. Sam's eyes mirrored his own wetness.

"So, we just have to be okay. And...carry on."

Sam nodded silenty, jaw tight. "Y' yeah...yeah. Okay. M'sorry." Sam spoke wetly.

Dean clapped a hand on Sam's knee.

"I know one day we'll get the sonofabitch. But I need to fix you, fix the car, and I dunno...hunt."

"Yeah, sounds good." Sam smiled across at Dean. "But hey, if I have to follow Doctor's orders, so do you. I need you to be okay too."

"Yeah, I always am." Dean smiled smugly. "Sides' I'm the big brother, I don't have to follow Doctors's orders, you kinda' ...fainted. You should." Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam.

"Shut. Up." Sam chuckled, pushing Dean's hand away in mock disgust.

Bobby walked in expecting a serious moment but found himself smiling at the boys sat mocking one another on the couch.

Bobby walked over seriously.

"Boys! Sam, don't do that again. And Dean, make some food. Id'jits." Bobby shook his head at the too and the muddled shouts of both brothers after him.

-"Orry Bobby-"

-"His kitchen!-"

Bobby sat at his desk and smiled warmly to himself. Goddamned stupid kids.

But he loved them.



have a good day!