A/N: So I finally got my Season 2 box set back after a friend borrowed it and then got hurt at work. A couple months is a long time to go without, LOL. So I was watching the ones I wanted to see again before I lend it to another friend for who knows how long and it led to this. A tag for Hunted and a little bit of a brother moment. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things and get another full length story out to all of you but for now, this just had to be written. Mild spoilers for Hunted if you haven't seen it. Enjoy and please review. It might just get me back into the longer story that is just not cooperating. Motivation for abused, deranged Sammy has been hard to come by lately.
Also, Check out both DancerInTheDark101 and VR Jennings. They're trusting my beta skills(for some unknown reason) but they have really great stories. Support my girls!
"You can't run from this and you can't protect me."
"Well I can try."
Sam was upset. Ava was missing. They'd went to her house and found her fiancé dead, his throat slashed. Her engagement ring on the floor in a pool of his blood. They'd found sulfur too. A demon took Ava.
Sam stood in the doorway, looking in at the bloodbath, praying wherever Ava was; she didn't see her love like the Winchesters now saw him. Dean looked at his brother, seeing the dark circles under his eyes, the pinched look on his face. "Sammy, ya alright man?"
Sam stepped away from the doorway, staggering a bit as he spoke. "I…" His knees buckled and Dean lunged forward, catching him just before he went down. Dean pulled Sam against him as he sagged, lowering him to his knees and following him down.
"Hey kid, talk to me." Dean said as he tucked a finger under Sam's chin and lifted it to catch his eyes, ducking his own head as he did, concern evident in the green eyes searching Sam's face.
"I think…" Sam swallowed hard, "…think Gordon beat the hell outta me."
Dean stood and pulled Sam to his feet. "Knew you couldn't go through that without takin' a hit. Come on, let's get ya to a motel." Sam groaned and sagged again, Dean catching him and hooking his long arm over his shoulder. "Come on Sammy."
"Mn-huh." Sam mumbled, tucking a head that was suddenly too heavy to lift against Dean's shoulder as it lolled slightly. Dean took him slowly out to the Impala and lowered him to the passenger seat. Sam's head fell back to rest against the leather seat back and Dean tucked his legs inside, closing the door gently when he was sure Sam was clear. He jogged around the front of the car and slid in behind the wheel. Reaching over, he brushed Sam's hair back from his closed eyes. Sam rolled his head into Dean's touch and Dean allowed his fingers to linger. Dean finally pulled his hand away and fired the engine, pulling away from the carnage at Ava's house.
Twenty minutes later Dean pulled into a roadside motel just outside Peoria. Sam's head had lolled on the seat to rest against the passenger window, breath fogging the glass. Dean gave his little brother one last glance and went to check them into the motel, leaving Sam sleeping in the idling car.
Dean walked into the motel office and smiled at the young woman behind the counter, casting a glance back at the car after seeing her return the smile.
"Need a room?"
"Uh, yeah. Two singles please." Dean said as he handed over a fake credit card.
"Little brother?" she nodded in the direction of the car.
"Yeah. He's sick. How'd ya know?"
" I know the look. Just sign here and I'll get your keys."
Dean signed the credit card receipt and took two sets of keys from her outstretched hand. "Room 19. It's around back and furthest from the office. Should be quiet enough for him to rest. Let me know if you need anything. I'm here all night."
"Thanks. Um, where's the ice machine?"
"Just at the corner of the building. There's an ice bucket in your room."
"I don't wanna leave him for any length of time. Do you have a spare?"
"Sure." She left the desk and went into a supply room at the back of the office. She returned moments later with a white plastic ice bucket and a couple spare hand towels and wash cloths.
"Thanks." Dean said gratefully as he took the supplies and headed for the car and his little brother, pausing and smiling slightly at her as she spoke once more.
"No problem. You need anything else for him; the office number is on speed dial. Number two. Hope he feels better."
Dean turned back to her. "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, how did you know I'm the big brother?"
She smiled sadly. "I am a little sister. My big brother was sick and needed a kidney transplant. I gave him one and had some trouble of my own after that. The look is the same…the worry. I called him on it a time or two." She said, her smile growing with the pleasant memories.
"Yeah. I know the feeling." Dean said as he left the office.
Dean got in the car, Sam not even stirring, and shifted from park, slowly circling to stop at the ice machine and fill the bucket. He got back in the car and pulled the rest of the way up to their room, parking at one of two spots right in front of their door. Dean turned in the seat and put a hand on Sam's shoulder, gently shaking him. Sam stirred and lifted his head.
"Hey, got us a room. Let's get you inside." Dean pushed from the car and circled, helping Sam stand. He wavered before he steadied and allowed Dean to lead him inside with a hand on his back for support. Sam went automatically to the bed furthest from the door and flopped down wearily, wincing as his back protested. Dean caught his strangled sound. "Sam?"
"My back hurts. Gordon kicked me through the wall."
"Okay. Got ice in the car. Chick behind the front desk helped us out. I'm gonna grab that and the med kit and I'll be right back okay?"
"Take your shirts off and roll over."
Sam stifled a grimace even though Dean had left the room to pull their stuff from the car as he sat up and unbuttoned his shirt, taking it off. He pulled his tee-shirt off, feeling it stick to some abrasions on his back. Dean came back into the room.
"Hey Sasquatch, lemme take a look." Dean helped Sam ease onto his stomach, tucking the pillow under his head. Sam stretched out, his feet hanging off the end of the bed. Dean saw the bruises forming across Sam's shoulder blades. Centered on the peaks of bone were a couple abrasions. Dean opened the med kit and pulled out a tube of antibiotic ointment. He applied it to the scratches and then folded some ice into a hand towel, placing it against the budding bruises. Sam flinched at the sudden coldness and felt the bruise on his cheek rub painfully against the pillow and he changed the angle of his face to take the pressure off. Finally the pain in his back faded enough for him to relax into the pillow with a sigh.
"Let that work for a bit and then I'll clean up your face."
"Jus' wanna sleep Dean."
"Okay Sammy." Dean said, patting him gently on the calf. Dean stood from the bed and watched silently as Sam's eyes slipped closed and stayed that way.
Dean went quietly to the Impala and brought their bags inside, putting Sam's at the foot of his bed. He pulled boxers and sweats from his own and headed for the shower, looking back once to make sure Sam was okay. Dean closed the door and soon the shower was running.
Twenty minutes later Dean stepped out of the steamy bathroom and checked Sam's back, seeing goose bumps on his arms. Dean pulled the sodden cold pack away and covered Sam to his shoulders with the motel blanket. Sam sighed and rolled to his side, a grimace tightening his features until he stilled and then the lines of pain smoothed. Dean went into the bathroom, seeing the opportunity to clean the blood, dirt and smoke stains from Sam's face. He wet a wash cloth with warm water and returned to the bedroom, hunkering down beside Sam. Dean gently wiped the mess from Sam's face and smiled a bit when Sam unconsciously leaned into the warm touch of the cloth. Satisfied with the results and pleased that it wasn't as bad as he feared, Dean chucked the cloth onto the bedside stand and stood straight, working kinks out of his own body that felt stiff from spending the better part of a day tied to a chair.
He went to his own bed and tossed the covers back, flopping down onto the relatively lump free, supportive mattress with a contented sigh.
"Hey Dean." Sam said tiredly from the other bed. Dean immediately pushed himself up on an elbow, thinking Sam was in pain.
"Thanks, man." Sam said, never opening his eyes.
"Get some sleep, bitch."
"You too, jerk." Sam replied with a sleepy smile, his head rolled in Dean's direction.
Dean woke the next morning to the shower running. He got up and dressed, packing the duffels and med kit as Sam came out of the steam fogged bathroom. "Feel better?"
"Actually yeah." Sam said, his cheek only slightly red around the small cut. Dean took in his puffy lip and gave a satisfied nod.
"Time to check out." Dean went to the office to check them out while Sam packed the Impala. Getting in the passenger seat, Sam waited for Dean to come out of the office and soon saw him. Dean was looking at a piece of paper in his hand and had a bewildered look on his face. He got in the car wordlessly and still looked at the paper. Sam saw that it was the signed credit card receipt with a refund receipt attached to it.
"What's that?" Sam asked.
"I went in to check us out and the guy behind the counter said this was laying there this morning when he came on duty. Beside it was a note, saying to give it to the guy in nineteen. The dude swears it was his sister's writing."
"Didn't you say she worked the counter last night?"
"Thought so. But Sammy, the dude is her big brother. She died two years ago after giving him a kidney."
Sam glanced at the motel office to see the guy standing in the window, watching them. "Oh." He said.
"Yeah." Dean replied, firing the Impala's purring engine and pulling out of the lot. Dean turned on the radio and relaxed as the sound of Journey filled the interior of the car.
Thanks so much for reading. Hope you'll take a second to let me know you enjoyed it.