I'm gonna' keep this short.

I've got fics to finish, mails to send, friends to apologise to and ...aww what am I saying... hope you lovely readers enjoy a bit of angst, and Limp-age on Sam's part...sorry Sammy love I'm a sucker to see you hurt... and for your brothers protective-ness to bloom...

What can I say, heroes?...I go weak at the knees!

Summary: Missing scene/tag to Hell House. Mordechai Murdoch didn't let Sam get away scot free ...Limp, angst Protective Dean.

Warnings: swearing...yeah, Dean's badass mouth...

AN: blame johnny cash for this fic-hurt...yeah, love the guy though.

Disclaimer: Apocalytic cyber squirrels stole my SN collection and my ipod...that's pretty much all I own...in other words (don't sue the one with nothing.)

thank you! Enjoy!

Dean hadn't intended for Sam to be Murdoch chow.

Dean hadn't intended for the stupid fucking special rod iron rounds to not work, when they'd planned so damn hard on it, to work.

Dean had not fucking well and truly intended for Sam to get hurt from an off-the-radar hunt in some average little town off the map of nowhere.

Dean just hadn't intended on...this.

"Go, get outta' here-"

Ed and Harry scarpered from the scene as soon as Sam took up bait, they bolted so fast through the door, only way they were getting out... and left Sam behind.

Sam could cover it, right?

They hadn't thought about if he couldn't.

They hadn't thought. Period. They were pussyfooters and they got scared, bolted for it.

Ed or Harry...Sam or Dean. Hadn't thought properly to be prepared enough in case this new hunt blew up in their faces.

Which it always fucking did.

Thank you retrospect...remind to send you a fucking thank you card after I'm done putting you in hospital.

Irony...you're next.

Dean was busy setting lighter fluid all over the god damned house, which was proving to be a miniature hell for them the whole time they were in this stupid town.

Dean did hear and partly see the runaway geeks make their leave and he figuired Sam had took care of it, and was holding up good ole Mr. sunshine.

Hmm...why did ghosts like that never smile?

Dean felt pretty secure Sam had it under wraps, the last words he heard from Sam made him smile.

"Come and get it you ugly son of a bitch!"

That one made Dean snigger.




Except it wasn't the famous elder Winchester that was currently being choked to death...


That had to be Sam.

Who had as much luck as a resurected ran over rodent. (try saying that five times)

Sam didn't expect Mordechai to have as much strength behind his blows, after all he was...Dead.

Sam thought about the situation and who he was facing.


The axe handle pressed ten-tonne tight against Sam's neck, cutting off his very breath, it caught and died in his throat having been forced back out and Sam winced.

That hurt.

He didn't expect the crushing to start so soon, usually the hunt taunted them first. He just needed time.

Pressing wood cut deeper into his neck and Sam pushed back, trying to draw at least some breath to stay concious.

Murdoch's fetid breath made Sam turn away only to have the axe pressed harder.


Murdoch suddenly released the axe, Sam dropped, inhaling deeply keeping one hand to his throat he felt something sticky and wondered how to hell that happened.

"...Great..." He breathed.

Glancing up, Murdoch was gone and only a black sandy dust shimmered in his wake.

Sam stood on shaky legs. Throat tight, head aching.

"He's going after Dean..."

Racing to find his brother in time, yelling out his name Sam found Dean spreading tank upon tank of...gasoline?...over the wooden floor.


Dean spun hearing his brothers voice and smiled.

It didn't last long, and when the grin died on his lips Sam knew the shit had hit the fan. His eyes widened.

Try the new mega-fan deluxe with extra wind span power.


A strong crusted sleeve wrapped around Sam's neck with a grunt.

The arm tugged and Sam found the hands he'd used to pry Murdoch off were now being used to hold himself up from not having his neck snapped when his legs tipped.

Eyes fixed up and knuckles white from pulling Mordechai's hand away, the ghost pulled back again and Sam felt the grip tighten.

A gasp choked it's way out of his throat and he saw Dean lunging forward.

Glazed terrified orbs met Dean's and his heart broke for the kid. he could see the silent plea and promise in that stare and Dean willed himself faster.

Just before Dean could reach Sam a door slammed shut in his face and Sam's eyes grew petrified.

"SAM!" Dean thumped on the door, shaking it's frame but it didn't budge. Supernaturally perked objects usually didn't after they've been messed with.

Freakin' great!

"SAMMY!" Dean kicked the door, shot at it even considered biting the sucker but it wouldn't move.

Sudden realisation dawned on Dean.

"There's gotta' be another way round there..." Dean ran into the kitchen, into the living room and looped back through into the room where Ed and Harry had shot out of.


Dean only heard the faint Dean through the thin walls and kicked down the nearest door.

Meeting back through into the kitchen he only just missed Sam's wide eyes and increasingly pale face dragged backwards into the basement, only to have that door slam in his face aswel.


He was getting kind of sick of this cat and mouse game, especially when the freaks used Sam as a rag doll like that.


Punching the door didn't help it open, but it did release a fraction of the pent up anger Dean was feeling.

Scratch that.

Pissed. As. Fuck.

When the door shook back on it's hinges Sam's fear tightened.

Dean wasn't getting in, and Sam wasn't getting out.

He could feel the cold breath skim the top of his head as he was dragged backwards, legs scrambling and kicking for purchase.

"D-De-..." His voice effectively quit after Murdoch tugged him back sharply and growled his displeasure.


Sam's heart jack hammered.

It could talk...it talked!?

That was most definatley not a good thing.

Angry axe wielding ghost with a voice and taste for blood.

Yeah, right on Sam's to-do list.

Normally they were too past it to talk, let alone how easily this thing did.

Murdoch pulled him back through the rooms, he could still hear Dean kicking and screaming and Sam's heart squeezed painfully.

If only he could just tell Dean, alert to him where he was exactly.

That would help, but he couldn't do much more than gasp right now when his neck felt to stretching point.

Sam suddenly felt light headed and his hands lost their grip holding onto Mordachai's sleeve.

The ghost noticed and loosened his grip when Sam filled his lungs deeply and belted.


Across the rooms, it echoed throughout the house and then cold callaused hands pulled his arms behind his back and tightened around his neck once more.

Sam saw Dean burst through into the kitchen when the basement swallowed him and another door slammed shut on his hopes.

Moisture filled in Sam's eyes.

Maybe Dean wouldn't get there on time?...It hadn't happened yet, but what if that was today?

The arm keeping Sam hostage pulled taught and his airway officially cut off. The pressure built in his lungs to a burn, the need to just breathe overpowered all of his thoughts.

Sam's teeth clenched shut and he kicked with his legs finding the door in front as a leverage he used both feet and pushed from the top of the basement stairs.

The ghost's laugh died as they fell and rolled with a racket of thuds onto the cold cement floor at the bottom of the basement.

Sam was free of the suffacating grasp but he felt a whole other load of bumps and bruises form the tumble.

Murdoch was gone, as far as Sam could see anyway and this time he hoped for longer.

Sam swallowed and tried to find his voice, it was sore and grated but it was working at least, whispery but strong.

"Dean..." Sam whispered. "DEAN! Down here!" Sam coughed and held a hand to his chest.

Since when did that hurt?

"Ah...Gah..." Sam inhaled in a hiss.

Sam heard the muffled "SAMMY" From upstairs and took a breath, relieved and thank full. He murmered "Dean" and stood his full height shakily.

Sam felt a thud resound in his chest and saw the blue painted door at the top of the stairs splinter.

Sam shook his head.

Thank you Dean.


The door broke into panals and Dean squeezed through, jumping three steps at a time to meet his brother at the bottom, a little bloody and out of breath.


"Yeah...m'fine..." His voice was still croaky and grated and his throat felt so sore, like he'd swallowed razors but at least Dean was here.

Dean tapped Sam's shoulder and lifted his finger under Sam's chin, who instinctively tilted his head up, let Dean see the damage.

"Sammy he got you good..." Dean frowned at the blood smeared on Sam's neck.

"I don't know..." Sam saw Dean's gaze. "Must have clipped me with the axe...I..." Sam shrugged.

"Okay, lets' get out of here before he decides to come back..."

"Too late..."

The deep gravelly voice made the air frigid in their lungs and their hairs stand on end.

"It talks!" Dean blurted and put himself between Sam and the rest of the basement, backing up his only option, it already felt colder down there.

Sam's breathing quickened and hitched. He wasn't going to let it get Dean.

"Dean, we gotta' get outta' here...now." Sam rasped.

Dean extended his hands at his sides and warned Sam to stay back. "I know...but it's coming at us and I'd like to know where from..." Dean growled.

Shimmering coal dust exploded in front of Dean and flung him sideways crashing into the brick wall and landing in a shuddering heap.

Up close and personal to Mr. Murdoch ugly wasn't the best in-your-face moment when freezing dead skin hands pushed Sam back with the force of ten men with a cry, head first into the stone wall behind him.

Sam was out before he hit the ground.

Murdoch was reaching down on the unconcious Youngster rolling his head to the side, cupped by Sam's chin Murdoch left his head straight and lifted the axe high above his own head.

Dean fired his entire round of the .45 pistol loaded with rod-iron rounds into the sucker, he knew it wouldn't work but the bullets passed right through and chipped off the wall above Sam's head, raining dust down upon him. All it did to Murdochai was drive his attention off Sam and through annoyance now onto Dean.

"That's right you freak...come get the guy whose gonna' smoke you out..." Accompanied with Dean's cocky grin, Murdoch growled.

That went well...Dean thought.

"I'd had enough of you..." The spirit growled with new ferocity and lunged for Dean who did an ipressive duck and roll to land at Sam's feet, checking on the kid with a glance Dean frowned at the ghost-white appearance and blood that now caked half of his face and was leaving a pretty impressive stain on his jacket and puddle on the floor.

"Sam...quit impersonating Casper... GET UP!" Dean hit Sam's thigh harder than intended but it didn't rouse the sleeping Winchester.

Well that went well just bruise your brother.

"Sammy I really need you right about now..."

Dean's angry tone didn't have any effect either and the axe weilding phycopath was charging back his way.

"Aw fuck Sam nice time to friggin' nap..." there were no vehmenence behind the words only sadness and guilt Sam wasn't okay, but the talking aloud relieved Dean a little more so that he wasn't entirely alone.

There was a thud upstairs and the ghost lowered the axe and looked up, he smiled dangerously and poofed away again in a cloud of coal, leaving Dean the chance to scoop up a now moaning Sam and get the hell out of dodge.


Gentle hands brushed Sam's hair and pried heavy laiden lids open, which Sam's eyes tightly clamped shut and shied away from.

"Ahhh...ugh...De'n...eeen..." Sam groaned and rocked his head to the side.

"It's okay Sam...but we gotta' split faster than a hookers condom...that bastard's still around..."

Sam winced at that image but slowly with Dean's help pulled up to a sitting position then stood, leaning on the wall then his brother for support.

They made it up the basement stairs and into the kitchen with little interference, then heard raised voices...more like geeky screams, actually...that sounded like...

"Ed?...Harry?..." Dean's assumptions came to light when they both, sleeping bag suits and all dashed from the open living room both mumbling jarbled words.

"Wait..what?..shut up, we're leaving. Now."

Ed and Harry's mouth clamped shut in unison and they bolted ahead of Dean with mutterings.

"We just wanted it on video..."

"...To see if you guy's were okay..."

"That's very nice guys, but get the hell OUT!" Dean shoved them clear onto the front porch and pulled out his zippo, Sam was still leaning on him pretty heavily so Dean threw in the lighter watching how Murdoch spun the axe in his hands and the flames dance around him, eating up the house.

Gasoline stung in their noses and slicked down their throats, coughing when they breathed clean air, Dean dragged Sam off through a patch of branches and half grown trees.

"That's your soloution...Burn the whole place to the ground..." Dean didn't miss the wobble to Sam's voice.

"Well no-one will go in anymore...he can't leave the house...look Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt..."

"What if the...legend changes again and he is allowed the leave the...house..." Sam breathed and swayed on his feet.

"Woah...steady. Then we'll just have to come back...now C'mon...I'm getting you to a hospital." Dean concluded the conversation.

Sam grimaced, not just from the pain. "No hospitals Dean...I'm fine...really."

When his legs swayed and Dean caught him before the nose-dive, enough was enough and Dean half dragged, half carried a half concious whole Winchester to the impala.

Getting Sam out of the car was another story.

Winces and curses spread like wildflowers as Dean heaved Sam out on sticky legs.

When Sam's legs buckled two yards from their motel door and Dean tightened his grasp around Sam's chest he didn't expect the half blown scream Sam bit down on.

"Shit...Sam, hold on..."

Unlocking the door and heaving Sam in was like second nature, so was securing the room before Sam even hit the second bed.

"Sammy?...hey, stay awake...I need to know what hurts..." Dean's voice shook in fear, he didn't know for sure how bad Sam was unil now. If the carrying fiaso was anything to go by...

Dean brushed a hand over his face and through his hair.

Enough of that, he had to stay strong...for Sammy.

"Sit up a minute bro, let's get that looked at..."

Dean took off Sam's jacket and over shirt, leaving just his tee and gasped at the bright red blood stain under his ribs...

Sam lowered his chin and hissed. "Oh..." He looked back up at Dean. Worry evident in those protective emereld orbs.

Dean hastilly tugged off Sam's tee and shook his head as he pushed Sam back on the bed.

"Oh...you got a friggin splinter the size of my face in you and all you can say is 'oh'...Un-fucking-believable..."

Sam winced. "I'm sorry..."

Dean sighed, and took off Sam's boots, and carried in the first aid kit.

"It's not your fault Sam, I'm just sick of all these freaks taking it out on you all the time...these patch-up jobs are getting a lot more frequent than I'd like..."

Sam closed his eyes and focused on breathing through his nose, trying to stop the burning pain when Dean cleaned up the gash.

Dean moved onto the scrape on Sam's neck, that wouldn't need stitches at least just a graze.

Mopping the blood from Sam's head wound and down his face stung but Sam only felt the first few tugs of the stitches above his ear then blissfully passed out.

Dean shook his head.

"You're starting to look like frankenstein little brother..."

Dean smoothed back his hair and wiped away the rest of the blood smears, his thumb stroked softly over Sam's own hand and Dean smiled down at his sleeping brother.

"You're not as young as you used to be...yet you were always the one to get snatched by the bad guy..." Dean whispered, sad eyes taking in the new bruises around Sam's neck and chest. He'd be sore for awhile, but he'd live.

He'd always live as long as Dean was there to live with him.

"I promise...nothing bad is gonna' happen to you...I'll do my best Sammy, no more fuglies are gonna' set their sights on you..."

Dean smiled the ghost of a smile and stood, placed Sam's own hand on his rising and falling chest, mow padded in gauze layers and heaved Sam under the arm pits further up the bed so his head rested on the pillows.

Sam's head lolled toward Dean and a faint smile crept on Dean's lips.

A real smile that lit up his eyes.

"You always seem to know where I am...even in sleep. Always known there was something special about you Sammy...Don't ever change it, not for the world."

Dean's voice took on a sleepy slur, with a smile behind it as he basked in the memories of a smaller Sam, always facing Dean in sleep.

That small dimpled baby that won the hearts of many, now a grown man and before Dean's eyes.

"Always thought you grew up too fast...nice to know some things never change..." Dean ruffled Sam's hair, bent low to pull the covers up over Sam and hesitantly leant forward more and placed a small kiss on Sam's forehead, to which even a sleeping Sam smiled.

Dean trudged into his own bed, facing Sam as he lay and dreamed about the family he'd always have, a smile grew on the other Winchester sibling.

Sam was always gonna' be Sammy and Dean would always be there for Sam.

It was more than a promise, with family like the Winchesters...it was an unwritten rule.

Sam woke the next morning to the curtains drawn, coffee and pills on the bedside and Dean reading a paper on the opposite bed.

"Morning sasquatch...how you feelin'?"

Dean kept his voice low.

"Ow..." Sam cradled his head. Sat up as far as his chest would allow. "Ow...again...I hate ghosts." Sam muttered.

Dean chuckled to himself. "Friggin' right with you on that one, at least you don't have a concussion..." Dean smiled.

"Oh..." Sam croaked. "That's just freakin' marvellous...what good news." Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed wincing when he pressed a palm onto his thigh and frowned, drinking his coffee with the pills Dean had left.

"Why does my leg hurt?"

Dean turned to him, frowning guiltily then faced away.

"Yeah..those ghosts sure do suck..." he covered, scratching his head innoccently.

Sam didn't question it, he was too tired to tell.

"Thank you..." He rasped.

Dean turned, unexpected.

"My job Sammy..."

"It's Sam...ow."

"That'll teach you not to eye roll me..."

"Shut up..."

"Nah...you'll always be Sammy to me..."


Thank you so much for reading, this one got a little away from me, hope you enjoyed, would love to know what you think...

night guys!