Disclaimer: I still don't own Supernatural or its characters. I and am not making any money on this…I'm just having fun!

Summary: WARNING SPOILERS: This takes place right after Jump the Shark in season 4. A missing scene after Dean rescues Sam. Surely Dean didn't make Sam stitch himself up afterwards—or did he?

Raven 524: I know this has been done before but decided to go ahead and post this missing scene. I couldn't help but wonder if the loss of blood was worse for Sam due to his addiction to demon blood. So here is my take on what happened after Sam was injured leading up to the bon fire in the end.

A Stitch in Time

Chapter 1 – It's in the Blood

Dean pressed harder on the accelerator as his mind played out worse case scenarios. How stupid could he have been? It was clear now that the monster has played both of them. It wasn't after Adam—it had been after Sam! The sight of Adam in the coffin, his guts ripped open brought bile to the back of his throat. What if he was too late? From the look on Adam's face, he was betting the poor kid had been alive when the monster had begun its feast. Would he find his brother with the same look?

"No! You hold on Sam damn it!" Dean yelled into the empty car as he pulled up outside the modest home. He still wasn't sure what the hell they were fighting, but grabbed his sawed off anyway. The young hunter leapt from the car and moved quickly towards the door. He wanted to burst in, but it wouldn't do Sam any good if he was captured. So he slowed down and listened. The scream he heard however drove any sense of caution to the wind—Sam was in pain.

He raised his leg and kicked at the obstacle in his path. The door splintered on the first kick, the hunter moved quickly inside with his gun raised. His eyes automatically searching and finding what he'd lost—SAM! His brother was tied down to the table like a Thanksgiving feast. Two monsters were sniffing him and laughing as his brother moaned and struggled. The woman looked up startled as he barreled into the room. Dark red blood painted her mouth and face—his brother's blood; it was a sure sign that the feeding had begun.

He aimed and took a shot at Adam before he could attack. His father's son flew backward into the wall and slumped to the ground. Dean took aim at the mother but paused as he heard his brother's warning.

"Dean, They're ghouls!" Raising the gun a notch, he quickly changed his shot to separate the monster's head from its neck.

"Which means headshot!" He remarked as he moved to the table. He could see his brother was losing blood fast. He had to stop the bleeding before—"Oof!"

Something large rammed into him, shoving him through the door and onto the floor. In that moment he realized his mistake—a rookie one at that. Never check on the wounded until you're sure the enemy is neutralized. As the struggle continued, Dean couldn't help but think his father would be disappointed—all his sons could die today because he'd been stupid.


The pain in Sam's arms increased as he struggled against the strong ropes holding him. Part of him wanted to go help Dean. But the room spun even as he heard the steady drip, drip, drip of his blood into the bowls below. He looked over at his arm and winced as the red fluid gathered and fell from the ragged slash marks. As he twisted, it flowed faster—the damn ghoul had been right. The more he struggled the more blood he was going to lose.

Sam turned his head weakly and gazed at the sound of something hard hitting flesh. He squinted to make out the figure and smiled with relief when it turned out to be his big brother. Of course, he never should have doubted Dean would get the upper hand. For a moment, Sam felt like old times. His brother was beating the crap out of the fuggly and any moment now would come to help him out—or would he?

It was no secret they hadn't been the same since the hell hounds tore more than Dean's body apart. Sam had waited for the old Dean to come back, to take charge but so far he hadn't. Instead Dean had become more introspective, more cautious. Hell had changed them both and Sam was sure it wasn't for the better. He shook his head as his vision swam. He had to stop the bleeding soon or it wouldn't matter.

"Dean" Sam panted, willing his eyes to remain open as he watched his big brother pause and look over at him. He blinked slowly as Dean moved quickly towards him. A knife appeared and began to cut the ropes holding his arms. White hot pain raced down his limbs as he tried to move them. The torn flesh screamed even as he felt a strong hand behind his shoulders to guide him upright.

"All right. Here we go—here we go" Dean's soft voice grounded him for the moment as he fought the vertigo sitting up caused. He felt the soft towels wrapped around his arms, slight pressure brought fresh waves of pain crashing over him.

"Here we go buddy…" His big brother continued to put pressure on the wounds as he continued to cut Sam free. Sam slid sideways for a moment but soon righted himself as his brother continued to staunch the flow.

"All right—all right…" Dean continued to say softly, maybe more for himself than for Sam's benefit because from where he was sitting, it was so far from all right. He let his head fall forward for a brief moment before looking up at his big brother.

"Thank you" Softly spoken, but accepted with a slight nod by his brother.

"That's what family is for right? Now keep pressure on that…" Sam felt a final squeeze as he moved his right arm over his left, trying to comply with the softly spoken command. He gazed blearily at the figure of his brother as he moved to the end of the table and began to work on the ropes holding his legs down.

"Hold on for just a few more minutes Sam—I have to take care of a few things real quick before we leave. You with me Sam?" Dean paused and placed a hand on his shoulder. He wanted to respond but for some reason his words refused to come. Sam nodded slowly, swallowing against the nausea that suddenly made its appearance. He could still feel the pulsing of his blood through the towels, the ache in his side, even his ankle which had been sore before; now throbbed.

A soft pat on his shoulder brought the young hunter back to the present. He should be helping Dean clean up the mess. He watched as Dean quickly pulled the two bodies together into the middle of the room. He placed the shotgun by Sam, his intent clear without words. His brother looked at him again for a brief moment, worry evident before he turned and left the house. A shiver ran up Sam's spine as he gazed at the two bodies.

The woman had said Adam was really their brother. For a short time, he'd actually enjoyed being the 'big brother'. But then, it really hadn't been his father's son he'd gotten to know—not really. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he felt the loss of someone he didn't even know. Of course, it was clear Adam had been dead before they arrived, but it still felt like they should have been able to do more. Another Winchester killed by monsters of the night; the family curse.

Sam jumped slightly at the sound of footsteps returning. His hand automatically reached for the gun. Fire exploded as his fingers grasped the barrel. The sound of the gun dropping to the floor was drowned out by the groan torn from his lips. He curled his arms back to his middle and began to rock slowly back and forth as he managed the pain.

"Hey, it's only me Sam. Just give me a few more minutes and we'll get you sewn up. I'm gonna have to burn the house. It's the only way to make sure any sign of us is gone and make sure these two son of a bitches don't make a return appearance." Sam blinked as he watched his brother work. Ever efficient and true to his word, Dean managed to salt the bodies and cover them in gasoline before he returned to check on him. A hand on his shoulder was the signal it was time to leave.

"Ready to leave this place Sam?" Dean asked.

"Yeah" Was all Sam managed as he swung his legs to the edge of the table. He was grateful for the assist as getting down without using his arms proved to be a challenge. As his feet hit the floor, his bad ankle buckled. Strong arms prevented him from falling as Dean took on more of his weight.

"I've got you Sam—just lean on me."

A soft smile formed on Sam's face, it had been so long since he'd heard those words from his brother—too long…


Dean looked over once more at his shivering little brother. He chewed on his lower lip as he reached over to pull the blanket up higher. He'd managed to get a pressure bandage on his brother's arms when they had come back to the car, but he wondered yet again at the wisdom of not heading straight for the emergency room.

Sam had refused and had been insistent to the point of threatening to get back to the hotel himself. While he could appreciate his brother's dislike of hospitals, it didn't make sense. There was something wrong with his little brother and it had nothing to do with what the ghouls had done. He hated that his brother was keeping secrets from him but he hated even more that he could no longer get an accurate read on his brother.

There had been a time when he could tell by a look what was going on with Sam. But his little brother had become good at hiding from him—in fact, he was maybe even better than their Dad had been. He looked over and shook his head. Who was he kidding? His baby brother had morphed into a full grown version of their father while he'd been away. Complete with the blinding need to get revenge.

Dean hadn't been blind; he knew his father's obsession sometimes clouded his judgment. It was what had driven a wedge between Sam and his father resulting in the youngest Winchester leaving to go to college. A moment of jealousy rose when he remembered the picture of Adam and his Dad at the ball game. His Dad had found time from his obsession to go to a game with the 'normal' son. He'd managed to keep Adam away from their world while keeping a small part of normal for himself.

Sam had managed normal as well while he was away at college. But he never got that chance. For the first time he felt anger and betrayal over the life he'd been forced to live. And yet, when he looked over at his younger brother he realized Sam had been right. Dad hadn't trained Adam but rather he had sheltered him and look at what happened. So maybe he should be thankful that his father had been obsessed—it kept him and his little brother alive.

A soft moan brought Dean from his musings as he glanced over again at Sam. "Hey, can you hold on just a bit longer Sam? I wanted to get us a few towns over before we stopped. I'm pretty sure there won't be anything for the locals to connect us to the fire, but I don't want to take any chances."

"D'n" Sam's voice was so soft he had to strain to hear it.

"Yeah Dude, you're safe. Just relax; we'll be at the hotel in a few minutes." Dean watched as hazel eyes cracked open briefly before falling closed once more. He had to find a hotel and get Sam sewn up soon. His brother couldn't afford to lose much more blood. One thing was for sure—he wasn't losing another family member, not tonight.


Sam slowly woke to a world of pain. He remembered snatches of the past few hours. Dean practically carrying him into the room, the painful process of cleaning his wounds and then the stitches that seemed to go on forever. Sam gazed down at his arms and winced as the slight movement brought fresh pain. His leg was elevated and the icepack still rested against his sore cheek. But there was something missing.

He gazed around the empty room; a moment of panic hit him as he realized he was alone. He gazed at the other bed. It lay there unslept in, a sure sign that Dean had not been to bed. He slowly turned his head towards the bathroom, but the door remained open—the room within dark.

"D'n?" Sam croaked his lips dry and his tongue seemed to have swollen too thick for normal conversation. Still, there was no answering call, no worried overprotective brother hovering over him asking him if he as okay. A vague memory surfaced but slid away. They had words? Sam groaned as he rolled over and finally managed to get himself seated on the edge of the bed. The world swam along with his head. Where was Dean and why did he feel like the worst brother in the world right now?

Words flowed through his mind until finally he hit upon the right ones. "Sam you really need to go to the hospital man, you've lost too much blood." Dean's voice was filled with concern but also a touch of anger.

"I said no Dean. I can't—you don't understand…"

"Then tell me why Sam—what are you afraid they'll find?"

"Nothing—I just don't want to go there. I'll be fine Dean. I've had worse believe me…"

"Not that I remember Sam…" Dean's hand pressed against his forehead briefly. "You've got a fever too. I think…"

"I don't care Dean—I had to learn how to take care of myself for four months—no help—no cold rags—just me and…" Sam looked away for a moment refusing to complete the sentence.

"Just you and Ruby. You want her to come and take care of you. Fine Sam. Here's the phone. I'm going to go out. It's obvious you don't need me…" Dean turned and grabbed his keys. He was gone before Sam could speak, could explain.

The young hunter groaned as he rocked slowly on the edge of the bed. The phone his brother left was sitting on the table. Sam picked it up and looked at it for a moment, willing a message to appear from Dean but there was nothing. He dropped his head; a lone tear fell as he realized how badly he'd screwed up.

How could he tell Dean the real reason that he couldn't go to the hospital was because he knew what they would find. The ghouls had confirmed it when the woman had remarked on how he tasted different. Of course, he had wondered for a while now. He went to college, he knew ingesting Ruby's blood—demon blood would change something in him. He just hoped that when it was all done, Dean would understand why he did it.

The anger surfaced as he thought about his sole reason for living right now. He had one final purpose before he died and that was to stop Lilith before she could break the final seal. The fact that he'd also get revenge for what was done to Dean was just icing on the cake. He couldn't tell Dean that he didn't intend to escape with his life; in fact he was willing to sacrifice it. After all, he shouldn't even be here. No, if he told Dean his true plan, his big brother would stop him. That is why he lied to him and that is why he couldn't tell him about the tainted blood now pumping through his veins.

A shiver wracked his frame as the phone fell from trembling fingers. He bent to reach for the fallen instrument but it turned out to be a bad mistake. The nausea and dizziness returned full force. His body lurched forward from the bed, his head hitting the floor with a resounding thump. He screamed as pain shot up his arms when they made contact with the floor. As bile rose and passed over his lips, he couldn't even summon the energy to move. He lay with his cheek in the wet mess, his eyes sliding closed as he realized he deserved to suffer—all he brought was pain, maybe it was time to let it end.

The phone trapped beneath the now unconscious man rang—but there was no answer….


Raven524: So, should I continue?