This is heat of the moment fic-I was wondering. When you're little, your mum would look after you when you were ill right? and I know for a fact if you didn't want to wake up or go to school that day you'd play your illness to the best of your ability. So...this fic was born, because I got extremely drunkard and...Caught a cold in the same night- pfft flu! Hence I sucked up to the mum, got the day off! Wahey!

Waffled with 'Bound by Blood' Because they were made from the same idea! :)

Summary: When Sam is distanced from Dean and they're not working as well as they should, Sam goes back to an old trick. Limp, Angst. Protective Dean. Season 4/5.

Disclaimer:, no ownings what so ever!

Warning: Tis half 4, I must wake up soon, this fic will be not be even near a slight cut from perfect :) Hence, just squee a little, have a limp Sammy fest and enjoy my lovlies!


"Hey! Earth to Sam!...Dude are you even listening to me?"

Sam stared straight ahead, his lips set in a hard line. "You know I am. You know I don't like this...and you don't even care, you don't even listen!"

Dean tipped his head back, canted to the side. "It'll work. Let's go."

As Dean reached for his leather jacket Sam fisted the cuff and pulled it away.

"Dean! If this is even slightly off, and I mean...even if you breathe wrong through this ritual, we will both be dead, don't you understand? We haven't even gone through the pronounciat-"

Dean's strong fist clipped Sam's shoulder and he held on. "Trust me." He said with a smirk.

Sam curled his lip. "Trust you? You don't even trust me...I've tried, God I've tried but all you do is order, you don't even trust me to make a decision anymore."

Sam harshly shrugged out of Dean's hold, his chest rising and falling heatedly.

"Get in the car Sam." Dean sighed.

Sam shook his head, blinked away the sting in his eyes and licked his lips.

"Fine." He croaked. "I'll do what you want."

Dean let Sam storm out, wait to sit in the car before he shook his head and locked the room.

It wasn't about trust anymore because that line had well and truly been crossed, there was no going back from that, Dean still felt sore bringing up the issue of trust and he was obviously pissing his brother off.

But if that's what it took to keep him safe, although Dean was pacing the limit to which Sam would eventually turn away on him again, he expected it, and frowning Dean realized this was his brother he was condemning already and he hadn't even given him a chance, fear he'd be hurt again.

Dean slammed the door on his Chevy. "Sam-"

"No." Sam didn't look him in the eye and Dean could hear the tears in his voice. "I trust you." Sam whispered. He sounded passive, submissive.

Dean nodded, they'd talk about this. He'd make sure of it this time.

"Okay. Uh...this hunt...we go there, start digging and it'll show, you set up salt and I'll read."

Sam opened his mouth to object, and then firmly snapped his jaw shut and gave a curt nod.

It didn't take long to get to the clump of trees, one unmarked grave on a soon to be housing estate was causing a lot of problems and the death toll was rising remarkably.

"Right, go start digging; I'll bring you the salt, go!" Dean threw the shovel to his brother and Sam hesitantly ran to the grave, started unearthing the soil. They'd mapped it out on Google Maps, like that was helpful. Dean had said it was all they needed to do. Sam didn't know exactly but he doug wide and fast.

"Don't worry about changing the plan last minute Dean, everything will work out." Sam grunted sarcastically.

The dirt tossed to the side in a growing pile as Sam was up to his knees in the grave.

He heard Dean opening the salt in a wide circle around the grave and he dug faster, they'd need the last piece before Dean read this cleansing.

"Sam! Hurry up!"

Sam bit his lip as he dug faster, the surface passing his waist and then to his shoulders as he hit the compact dirt and right under, the coffin.

"Got it!" Sam yelled, out of breath.

Sam was about to break the coffin lid when freezing cold air whipped about his hair and he heard a flutter of papers.

Sam's breath misted in front of his face. Oh...shit.

The shovel hit the coffin with a clang and Sam was thrown back against the side of the grave with a grunt, the dirt crumbled down by his face, into the neck of his shirt.


The spirit stood forward, its flaking black and blue hand reached up and grasped over Sam's heart.


Sam shuddered with the lightning bolts of pain ripping through his system.

He threw his head back, trying to pull away and shouted desperately. "DEAN!"

Salt showered around him and he was released, falling forward with a heaving gasp as he clutched at his chest, it felt too hot and frozen all at once.


"Uh...yeah...y-yeah I'm good."

Dean knelt down. "Give me your hand, it'll be back any minute, I didn't finish the circle." Dean reached his hand down.

Sam shakily stood, his arm wrapped around his chest. "Say the ritual..."

Dean's eyebrows jumped and he shyly smiled. "The spirit knocked it, I lost it."

Sam tensed. He knew it. There would be a giant I told you so later.

"Then what do we do? Huh Dean? got another plan?" Sam spat.

Dean looked taken back, regret and sorrow showing on his face.

"I'm sorry, but we need to go Sam-"

The wind fluttered behind Dean and one of the sheets he'd been reading from blew past them. Dean spun and stood, his eyes hard. The spirit looked directly at him.

"You like...digging up bodies boy...I'll show you." It whispered with an unearthly echo.

Sam held his breath, if Dean didn't move that thing was going break him apart.

Angry spirits, it's in the description.

Sam looked up, he could see the tense lines on Dean's back, the stiff set of his legs and Sam crouched, took a deep breath, one foot ready to jump and one hand reaching up over the grave.

With a grunt Sam kicked up, grabbed Dean's ankle and with his other hand yanked on Dean's jeans as he heard the spirit screech forward, Dean passed him as he fell backwards into the grave, arms flailing and Sam pulled himself up, half kneeling as the spirit met him with a howl and the breath left his lungs with a whoosh, his face pale as he fell limp and his body felt like ice.

Dean hit the dirt to see the spirit travel straight through his brother, he'd never forget the look of pain on Sam's face and the cry as the two objects met.


Sam fell back, his body limp as Dean scurried to stand and caught his brother, his arms sprawled and his skin ice cold.

"Sam, hey...Sammy." Dean fumbled with Sam's body, turned him round and carried the weight.

Dean knelt back in the dirt and rested Sam's back against his chest, tipped his head onto his shoulder.

Dean's wide eyes watched as Sam began to shiver and flutter his eyelashes.


Quaking lips opened, tinged blue and Sam spoke.

"Finish the salt...we'll trap it." Sam shivered in a breath, pushed himself away with a look of pained hatred towards Dean. "Go!" Sam strained.

"Sam, we need-" Dean reached forward as Sam leant against the dirt wall.

"No, finish the salt...then get us out of here" He closed his eyes and slouched, breathing heavy.

Dean climbed out, grabbed the open bag of salt and finished the circle of salt around the grave.

Sam collapsed back, his chest hurt like a fire was raging in it and his whole body felt like ice , like it was burning and grating on his skin.

"Uh...God..." Sam cradled himself closer.


Dean appeared before him. "Hey, you doing good?"

Sam shook his head. "I need some help." he slurred.

Dean nodded, shocked and afraid. "Yeah-yeah sure. C'mon." This was his fault, the hunt was screwed now.

Sam was practically lifted from the grave and pushed onto his knees. Dean jumped up behind him.

"Hurry Sammy, it won't stay gone for long."

Sam reluctantly pushed himself up and with Dean's help moved from the grave, past the salt Dean had finished and back to the safety of the car.

Sam slouched in the passenger seat, Dean's jacket covering him as his teeth chattered.

"Sam you're freezing." Dean started the engine, turned up the heat to full.

" long as...the hunt's done. Shouldn't care."

Dean sharply turned to his brother. "You think I don't care about you?"

Sam shook his head, tipped his head back. "Just drive...please." He winced.

Dean shut his mouth, they'd talk about this later, after he made sure Sam was ok.

They made it to the hotel in super fast time, Dean had his arms free and ready to help cart his brother but Sam simply glared up from the passenger seat, and Dean stepped back, let his brother walk on his own but stood close in case he should fall.

"Sam I need to take a look at you."

"I'll be fine." Sam shivered as he made his way into the room and sat on the bed.

The door slammed shut behind Dean. He looked more than a little pissed.

"I'm sorry, okay?...I didn't mean to get you hurt." He softened. "I never wanted that."

Sam looked up, his skin almost white. "You could've just...listened to me."

Dean licked his lips, he looked like the kicked guilty puppy. "I know." He did. Honest.

It was quiet for a tense moment.

"Could you...uh...pass me some Tylenol?"

Dean strode over eager to the duffels by the door. "Does it still hurt?...Sam?"

Sam didn't answer as Dean walked over and handed Sam some water to swallow the pills.

Dean tentatively reached out to brush Sam's hair from his eyes, trying to feel if he had a fever but he drew back his hand with a hiss.

"Sam you're freezing!" Dean stared wide eyed, noticing Sam's glazed eyes, his shallow breaths and the way he shuddered. "Move over, now!"

Dean pulled off Sam's jacket, ripped his way through Sam's shirt and gasped at the vivid bruises covering over Sam's heart, a deep purple hand print.

"Shit, did she do this?" Dean placed his hands over the outline and lightly touched it.

"Unngh..." Sam grabbed Dean's wrist in a loose hold. "Don't." He breathed.

Dean could see red areas of sore skin where the spirits touch burned Sam's skin.

"Sam, this looks your heart okay?" Dean asked fearfully.

"I'm not dying Dean."

Dean was silent.

"You know, tonight if you'd...just listen to me once, if you'd trust me-"

"This isn't about trust Sam."

"No?" Sam gasped. "Do I have to stand in front of a bullet for you to get you to listen to me? To trust me?...You only listened to me tonight because I was hurt Dean!"

"That's not true."

"No?" Sam cocked his head, stiffly stood with an arm bracing his ribs. "Why do you think I took the hit tonight?..."

Dean's eyes widened. "I presumed it was because you were trying to protect me, stupidly I might add."

"Yeah...that's what I always try to do, but you don't listen so I have to take the hits so you don't get killed!" Sam bit the inside of his cheek. "I have to do that because you won't hear me unless I'm hurt or bleeding because that's when you're my brother...the rest of the time you don't even want to be near me."

Dean looked down. "That's not it Sam."

"No? Then tell me! I'm going out of my mind here because I can't apologize anymore for what I've done, you're blanking me out." Sam shrugged. "What am I supposed to do? Let you get hurt, then prove a point...I won't do that."

"So you get yourself killed to prove a point, real smart Sammy, real smart."

"So tell me! Please...why, why don't you talk to me anymore, I know it's never going to be like it was but...let me help."

Dean glanced at Sam with a heavy heart. "It's just going to take some time...I do trust you, I just-"

"If I could do tonight over again, I'd do the exact same thing. I go along with what you say because I trust you. It doesn't matter about anything else because you're my brother...I'd die for you and I'm trying to show you that-"

"By getting killed."

"NO!" Sam said, straining to breathe. "I'm your brother Dean, let me help you. I'd do anything...anything for you. If you don't want my input for a hunt, fine. That's okay; I'll do what you want."

Dean looked up. "You'd always end up taking the brunt though wouldn't you?" Dean smiled knowingly.

Sam whispered. "Yes. Every time."

"Okay Sammy, listen to me and listen good. You are a part of these hunts and I do listen to you, I know I should, man it feels right that I should. We're equals right? So..."

Dean looked at the bruise on Sam's chest, thought about what kind of damage that could have done to his heart, his freezing skin and how long that would last. Did he need a hospital?

"I should have been there tonight, I should have listened. So...I'll listen to you and we'll plan this as brothers, on one condition..."

Sam swallowed.

"You don't take a bullet for me, you will not stand in the way. Because from now on, we'll plan it safe. Kay kiddo?"

"Kay" Sam whispered, relieved. "That's good, cos' this whole taking the hit thing, it's not fun." He winced a smile at Dean.

"Sit." Dean demanded. "I'll wrap those and you're going to sleep, now."

Ahh, brothers. It was good to be back, even if they had to build themselves up again just to fall.

END! Tadah.

Well, that was waffle...hope it made...some form of sense!