SUMMARY: Sam and Dean go after a monster but Sam gets hurt and doesn't tell Dean about it. And there are some consequences.

DISCLAIMER: Nope, I don't own Supernatural, just play with the characters (: This is just written for fun.

A/N: Hi, yeah, another story. It's a one-shot. Popped in my head a few days ago and I wanted to write and post it ^^ I do hope you like it, because at one point I was stuck, so please don't hate me for stupidities or other things. I'm not English so there might be grammar mistakes and such.. I'm also terribly sorry if medical stuff are incorrect and such, I'm not a doctor! But geez...I had to take those Ibuprofen pills once and they are huge!
About the Dagiau…well I invented them myself. Sorry if you don't like them, but I needed to create a monster. So…well…enjoy xD
~ Arweyn

I'm here, and always will be

'You know what Sam? I don't want to hear your excuse! ' Dean yelled and threw his hands in the air.
'It's always the same with you! You can't do anything good.' He growled, pointing an accusing finger at his little brother.

Sam opened and closed his mouth to reject Dean's statements.
When he didn't find anything to say, he sighed.

'No Sam, don't, okay? Just don't..' Dean said, shaking his head and grabbing his leather jacket from the chair.
He strode towards the door and opened it.

'What 'cha gonna do?' Sam quickly asked.

'I'm going out, okay? Or do I have to ask your permission? Is that what you really want?' Dean sneered and walked out, slamming the door shut. Again.

Sam just stood there, staring at the closed door. After a few seconds he broke from his reveries and heavily limped to the bed. Now Dean was gone he didn't had to hide the extent of his injuries.


The two brothers were on a hunt. They assumed it to be a Kelpie, all the signs were clear and they smiled at the thought of an easy hunt. But it wasn't that easy when the assumed Kelpie turned to be a Dagiau. These horse-like creatures were a mixture between Kelpies and Hodags. Sure, it had to be a freak of nature. Dean had laughed about the odd mixture and had imagined a dog with hooves.
But the Dagiau was vicious. With its long razor sharp teeth and huge body it was kinda terrifying.

It had the body of a horse, but adding the spikes on its back and tail, the long teeth and the claws of a Hodag. Plus the fact that their bites were poisonous and they only could be killed with an iron arrow straight to the heart.

Sure Sam had done a splendid job on the research, had found every little detail about the Dagiau except the fact that they could be invisible.
Dean hadn't took the missing gap of their ability so slightly when Sam got smacked into a tree by something invisible.

Lucky for them the Dagiau was hunting alone. They usually lived in pairs but it had to be that its mate was killed or just died. Dean had caught the Dagiau with a rope –cowboy style- and was being dragged with it when it ran away. Sam could hear the thudding of hooves-claws as the Dagiau ran further into the woods.
Little did Dean know that the Dagiau's mate was there also.

And it had found Sam. Of course it had to be Sam who was unarmed ( Dean had the only 3 arrows with him ) and barely conscious. By the blow Sam could only stare at shock at the Dagiau as it reared and slashed Sam's arm with its claws. Perhaps it was by the sharp pain that Sam regained all consciousness and clambered up. His only weapon was a lousy knife, but still it was a weapon. Maybe he could hold back the Dagiau long enough for Dean to come back.

He defended himself as good as possible, but he was bleeding and his back ached. The Dagiau was stronger than him. It would take its advantage on its invisibility. Sam was being thrown all over the place as an invisible creature kicked or clawed him. It was unfair, was Sam's though when he ended up on the ground, hitting his head against a trunk. He shook his head to get rid of the pain and gasped when the Dagiau charged toward him. A hatred burning in its eyes, wanting to kill Sam. But somehow Sam managed to stab the creature in its chest. It had shook with its head, trying to get rid of the pain. When it came to the conclusion Sam had caused the sudden pain it started to became more furious than before. It clawed, bit, bucked and reared while Sam desperately tried to get away from the teeth and claws.

But he slipped over a root and ended up roughly on the ground. He tried to crawl away but his arm wouldn't let him. The Dagiau reared and ended with its hoof-like claws on Sam's chest. Sam could feel the claws torn flesh and cloth as it landed. The snapping of bones wasn't doing good either.
The Dagiau shook its head and stepped back, preparing itself for the final hit.

Sam clawed desperately in the dirt and leaves when a sharp pain went through his finger. Looking down he saw the iron tip of an arrow. Dean must have dropped it when he was being pulled away by the other Dagiau. Just at the moment that the Dagiau reared again, Sam grabbed the arrow tightly. And just before the monster landed, Sam stuck the arrow into its chest.

The Dagiau snarled and growled, spitting blood all over the ground while its eyes started to burn. Sam covered his face when there was an explosion and the Dagiau vanished, leaving nothing but pieces of flesh and blood. Oh yeah, and not to forget its abdomen splattered against some trees.
Nausea crept into Sam as he slowly found his feet. He leaned heavily against a tree and wiped some blood splatters of his face. Not knowing whether it was his or the monster's.
He looked up when he heard another explosion. Dean was safe.

Sam sighed in relief but immediate regretted it when the broken ribs grinded painfully together. He bit on his lip so he wouldn't cry out. He knew Dean would be furious. He couldn't blame him though...after the last mistake with Dad...Sam swallowed as he blinked away some tears.
Not the right time and place for crying, he chided.
First he had to make sure the wounds would stop bleeding. He could feel the blood seeping through his clothes. The Impala was a few meters away, hidden in the brushes. Maybe he could grab some bandages and patch himself up back at their motel. It would take some time before Dean would be back.
Yeah, that was a good idea.
Sam limped to the car, biting on his lip when there was weight put on his injured leg. He winced and smirked when he saw the shining hood of the Impala.

Sighing in relief that the car was actually open, he opened the trunk and grabbed a long yellow cloth.
( Dean had been using it to wipe the 'Pala's windshield. ) He ripped some of the cloth and bound it around his leg and arm, wiped the blood of his face and sighed again. Checking his reflection in the mirror of the car he nodded to himself. He looked better now. Maybe Dean wouldn't even notice that he was hurt.

Sam was right, Dean didn't seem to notice. Sam had watched him coming back from the wounds. With stiff shoulders and a furious look in his eyes. The way he dashed made Sam wince.
Dean was mad...

Mad maybe was an understatement. Dean was furious, like, 'I'm gonna kill you right now'- furious.
'The Hell, Sam? You said we were dealing with one visible Dagiau. Oh wait, correction, 2 friggin' invisible Dagian. What happened with research?' Dean snapped, underlining every word with a poke of his index finger op Sam's chest.
San winced a few times when Dean hit a sore spot, but Dean was too busy snarling at Sam.

Dean didn't even noticed when his finger was covered in blood.
'Dean, I'm-' Sam started, looking frightened at Deans finger, glad his older brother hadn't noticed.
'Sorry? Sorry? Sorry's not gonna make it okay. Sorry didn't help us killing those Sons of Bitches!' Dean growled.
Sam took a step back. It was harder for him to focus. His vision was swimming and he could actually feel himself swaying, his injured leg trembling.

'I-' he began again.
'No Sam, you know what? I'm actually disappointed...There was only one thing that you needed to do properly and you screw it up?'
Sam winced at those sharp words. He looked away and fidgeted uneasily with his fingers. The sharp aching pain in his chest were full blows now. He needed to treat the wounds and fast.
The disappointment of Dean was three times worse than the wounds.
But on the other hand, it was unfair. If he couldn't do the research why wouldn't Dean do it?
'You know what, next time you do the research and I can kill them.' Sam snarled. 'Since that is so much easier. I mean, why don't you go with dad? You two can have all the fun you want. You don't want me in your little happy family, do you? Well, I get. Go ahead, why don't you go searching for him? So you two can be the Dynamic Duo you guys wanted to be. But don't count me in!'

Dean blinked a few moments in utter shock. He knew Sam could snap back, but not like this. Sam noticed that Dean was somehow shocked by his words.
'Dean-' Sam said, glancing at his brother with a pleading look.
Dean raised his hand and Sam immediately stopped talking.
'Let's just get to the motel.' Dean said in a toneless voice. He opened the car door and got in. Sam swallowed and walked around the car, leaning on the hood not to put too much pressure on his leg. He slowly got in, wincing a bit as he sat down.

He thought Dean was looking at him, but when he glanced at Dean he saw that his brother was too busy manoeuvring out of the shrubs.
Sam looked out of the window and frowned, not knowing what to do. Then he remembered Dean being dragged away by the Dagiau.
'You okay?' he asked softly. Dean didn't look at Sam, just focussed on the road – they were almost on the main road – but Sam knew he was listening.

'Fine.' Was the clipped answer. Sam nodded, not completely convinced. He carefully assessed Dean, but didn't dare to go further on the subject. 'Sides he was feeling awful. His head was throbbing and the wounds were making him lightheaded. And he felt terrible about what he had said. Dean didn't deserve that. He sighed and put his aching head against the ice cold window. He watched the trees flying by and drifted off in a light doze.

Sam roused when the engine was cut off. He blinked woozily as Dean opened the car door without saying anything and got out. It took Sam a lot more time to get out. He noticed to his fear that the cloth and his tee shirt was stained. It was a luck his hoodie was black or Dean would see the stain of blood on the fabric. But Sam didn't care anymore. Dean was disappointed and angry. He grunted as he pushed himself slowly up. The world started to move as the sudden vertigo hit him. Sam pressed his eyes shut and waited for the dizziness to pass. It took some time, but after a minute he carefully trudged to their motel room, hiding the limp as good as possible.

Dean was already inside, throwing his duffel-bag and the weapon bag on the motel bed that was the closest to the door. He didn't look up when Sam shambled inside. Instead he dug out some clean clothes and dashed into the bathroom. Sam winced when the door slammed shut. Normally he was the one who would slam with doors, now it was Dean.

Sam groaned softly and sighed in exasperation as he noticed he forgot his own duffle bag in the car. He turned around and started to walk back. It was slow and unsteady but he reached the sleek black car without falling over. He grabbed his bag which seemed like it weighed over a hundred pounds. He concentrated on his feet. Trying to ignore the odd feeling of something trickling over his stomach. He clenched his teeth and walked back in. When he was inside he instantly dropped the bag on the ground and leaned heavily against the door jamb. He noticed the sound of running water and shook his head. Reaching for his bag was a bad idea, the broken ribs ground together and screamed in protest. Sam nearly toppled over but could grasp the chair to steady himself.

'Not such a good idea, Sam.' He muttered to himself, angry for his stupidity. He grabbed the bag again but now with more prudency. He took the heavy duffle bag and plunked it on his own bed. There he sat, pondering about how he could clean his wounds without telling Dean. Telling Dean would only make the older Winchester more angry than he was now. So Sam decided to keep it down.

The bathroom door swung open and Dean walked out. Dressed in a clean tee shirt and a pair of jeans. He dropped the dirty clothes on a heap on the ground and tossed his leather jacket over the chair. He didn't even looked at Sam.

Sam just sat there, hating the silence. He preferred Dean shouting at him. Hell, he wouldn't mind Dean for hitting him. It was better than silence, because silence meant disappointment, and Sam, Sam didn't wanted Dean to be disappointed.

'Dean, listen, what happened back there, I-' Sam started nervously, getting up slowly. He bit back a moan as he felt a new wave of pain.
Dean didn't turned around, kept fumbling with Dad's journal.
'Leave it, Sam, I don't wanna hear.' Dean grumbled in a low voice, clarifying that Sam shouldn't argue with him and especially not apologizing. He was pissed and tired and scared. He had never seen such creatures before, neither had Sam, so it actually wasn't Sam's fault for screwing up. It was his own, he should have investigated the area better and should have given Sam some more time to do a proper research. But he couldn't help it being mad at Sam when his little brother had said those things. Surely he wasn't a pansy but it still ached. When he had been dragged away by the Dagiau he had constantly been worrying about Sam. He had heard the second explosion and had finished the Dagiau as soon as possible. When he got back he saw Sam standing next to the Impala covered in blood. That had done it. He wasn't mad, but he couldn't bring himself to assess Sam. No Sam's words stung and for a moment Dean needed to be alone. To order his thoughts.

Right now he needed a drink. Wash away the worries with some beer and perhaps some nice female company. He made Sam clear he didn't want to hear because he was about to explode, and he didn't wanted that. Not his brother, perhaps he could start a bar fight or something. But unfortunately Sam wasn't so meek as he tended to be.

'Dean, I'm s-'

'You know what Sam? I don't want to hear your excuse! ' Dean yelled and threw his hands in the air.
'It's always the same with you! You can't do anything good.' He growled, pointing an accusing finger at his little brother.

Sam opened and closed his mouth to reject Dean's statements.
When he didn't find anything to say, he sighed.

'No Sam, don't, okay? Just don't..' Dean said, shaking his head and grabbing his leather jacket from the chair.
He strode towards the door and opened it.

'What cha gonna do?' Sam quickly asked afraid Dean would leave him somehow.

'I'm going out, okay? Or do I have to ask your permission? Is that what you really want?' Dean sneered and walked out, slamming the door shut. Again.

Sam just stood there, staring at the closed door. After a few seconds he broke from his reveries and heavily limped to the bed. Now Dean was gone he didn't had to hide the extent of his injuries.

As soon as he was sure that Dean really was gone, Sam sagged on the bed, removing his hoodie and shirt. The cloth was stuck to the wounds and it was unpleasant to rip the cloth of the torn flesh. Blood started to ooze again and for a moment Sam felt very dizzy. But he had to act fast if he didn't want to pass out because of some stupid blood loss. Sam grabbed the first aid kit he had stuffed in his duffle bag – with difficulty- and took some disinfectant. He swiped the worst gashes on his chest clean with some gauze. He bit his lip not to cry out from the stinging and painful sensation when the disinfectant came into the wounds.

He was sweaty and trembling when he started the stitching. It took all his powers not to shiver too much. He had to focus. Slow and painfully he closed the wounds of his chest. When he closed up the wounds he inspected his ribs. He touched his bruised side and whimpered when he felt two or three ribs shift. Sam blinked some tears away. The pain was overwhelming and he needed a few minutes to make sure he wasn't going to topple over. When he felt a bit better he assessed his arm. The laceration was too deep to leave it that way.

The gash crossed from his shoulder to his elbow. On the backside. And whatever he did, he just couldn't stitch the whole laceration. He cursed under his breath and let the wound be. Just for precaution he rubbed some ointment on it before bandaging. His leg wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Just a minor gash and a bruised ankle. Nothing too bad. When he was done, he cleaned up everything – well cleaning, it was more hiding all evidence from Dean- before crashing down on his bed. He was sweaty and exhausted. He had changed his dirty blood-stained clothes for fresh and clean ones, but they were already damp from the sweat. His whole body was aching and he couldn't stop shivering. It had been best to take a shower first, but the wounds needed attention first. Showering would be later..when he...Sam's eyes shut and he was succumbed by the comfortable darkness of sleep.

Dean grumbled when he stopped for the closed motel door. He had grabbed a beer but it wasn't as comforting as he thought it would be. He felt..awkward...lonely. He had given up the company and had decided to go back to their room. Dean shook his head and opened the door. He was surprised when he saw that dark motel room. Usually Sam would be doing research on his laptop. Hell, he would have put some light on or lay some salt lines. But everything seemed like Sam hadn't do anything. Dean felt a wave of new anger as he saw a pile of clothes thrown on the ground next to the bed. And his sasquatch- like brother on the cot. Dean frowned. It was just 8 pm. How the hell could Sam be asleep already?
'Sam, wake up.' He snorted

Dean switched the light on and paced towards Sam's sleeping form. Not having the patience to be careful, Dean nudged Sam in passing by. Sam didn't respond. Dean exhaled deeply and jostled Sam, hard enough to wake a bear from its hibernation. Sam's eyes shot open but immediately closed when the sharp light made his headache worse. He groaned and threw his arms over his head, curling up to his side.
'Get up Sam, we're gonna grab some food.' It was that Dean had headed to the bathroom that he couldn't hear the whimpering sounds Sam made. He was too tired and closed his eyes again, letting himself being succumbed into oblivion.

'Dammit Sam, will you start eating already?' Dean growled with a low voice. He scowled at Sam who just sat there staring at his salad. Dean had already finished his hamburger and was now wolfing down his sundae. It really annoyed him that Sam wasn't eating anything. But he was actually more worried. Sam was pale and cheeks flushed, although he had tried to hide it from Dean, his hands were trembling constantly. Sam was also wearing a thick layer of clothes, he was cold he had said when Dean had asked about it. Dean had tried to feel Sam's temperature but Sam had constantly scurried away, eyes big of fright. Dean assessed his little brother. Sure he had been harsh to Sam when they got back from the almost failed hunt, but Sam hadn't seemed injured. He was just clumsy with those long legs. He had thrown a vase on the ground when they were talking to a witness. They had headed more south when Dean had received some coordinates from John. Both had been pleased and packed up and had hit the road. When Sam got out of the car however, he had fallen on the ground, ending on his right arm and had used some terms that even John Winchester didn't dare to say out loud. No, Sam was just being clumsy as always, Dean thought and dug into his sundae.

It wasn't clumsiness that had made Sam throw the vase on the ground. It was when a vertigo had hit him. It had been two days since the attack of the Dagian and Sam didn't had the strength to redo the stitches. Some were broken and he was sure it was infected, according to the pain. But he just ignored it. He needed to fix this job first. Then he could crash down. Dean had found it important when he received the coordinates. It was the first time since the failed hunt that Dean had actually spoke to him in full sentences. Sam wanted this hunt to go perfect. He wanted to show Dean he didn't meant what he had said.

But that wasn't so easy when you were dizzy all the time and had to throw up every time you ate something. The accident with the car was because the pain in his chest overwhelmed him suddenly when he moved out of the black Impala. He had tried to get up without hunching over, but the effort that it took made him topple over, landing on his injured arm. Sam was sure he had popped the few stitches – the ones he could do, that was- on his arm when he felt something warm sliding over his arm to his wrist. When Dean had ordered some food, Sam had hurried to the diner bathroom stall to retch violently in the toilet. When they had arrived at their motel, Sam had pushed Dean aside and had locked himself in the bathroom. He had tried to stitch his bleeding arm up, but had failed miserably. Sam knew he was running a fever. He had recognized the fatigue and chills. He just hoped it would pass away soon, but if the fever was being fuelled by the infection it wouldn't. He had swallowed a couple of Ibuprofen, but since their meds were emptying he didn't want to use them needless.

Sam stared at the salad and started to feel nauseated. They were so close to the Demon that started killing humans for fun. It loved to torture them like they did in the Dark Ages. Like burning out eyes and cutting off fingers. Sam didn't wanted to screw up, not again. He glanced at Dean and saw his brother looking back. Sam knew he had to eat something to make it look less suspicious. But it was so hard. Dean put his spoon down and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
'Eat, Sam, now.' He said tersely.
Sam swallowed and picked up his fork with trembling hands. He pricked a tomato on the fork and brought it to his mouth. Just as he wanted to take a bite, nausea washed over him. He dropped the fork and ran to the bathroom.

Dean arose and paced to the bathroom. Now it was enough. He had known that Sam had been retching very often. Every time they had made a stop to eat, Sam had ended in the bathroom, throwing up everything. Dean opened the door and could hear the sounds of retching.
'Sam?' he called, waiting in front of the only closed stall.
It was silent for a minute. Dean heard the ragged and fast breath of Sam.
''Ts okay Dean.' Sam garbled, but was cut off when he suddenly heaved again and spilled more into the bowl.
Dean growled and banged on the door.
'Open the door, Sam.' He said
'No, Dean, I'm-' again more gagging.

With every heave, Sam's ribs were grinding together. The pain made him feel even more sick. And Dean standing outside didn't help either.

'Sam, open the fucking door.' Dean shouted and banged again on the door with his fist.
There was some rustle of movement, the flushing of the toilet and then the click of a door being unlocked. The door opened and a sickly pale Sam stood in the opening. Sweat beads formed on his forehead and he was trembling. Dean hurried forwards to steady Sam when Sam started to sway.
'Jesus Christ, Sam, what has happened to you?' Dean asked and held Sam's biceps tightly. Sam winced a bit but suddenly turned around and spilled more bile in the bowl of the toilet. Dean made a face and rubbed soothing circles on Sam's convulsing back.
'Take it easy, Sammy, don't fight it, 'kay?' Dean hushed, and carded the brown, sweaty bangs of Sam's hair out his little brother's eyes.
Sam didn't said anything. He couldn't, but when Dean shifted and his knee pressed against Sam's broken ribs, he whimpered and pulled away.
Dean frowned and gave Sam some place – as much as the stall could provide, that was – and assessed his little brother closely.
Sam was hunched and had put his head on the toilet seat, shivering and cradling his side.
'You done with hurling?' Dean asked and flushed the toilet when Sam nodded. The exertion of throwing up had taken the little strength Sam had and Dean quickly grabbed Sam when he passed out.

Dean cursed under his breath and shifted so Sam's back was leaning against his chest. Dean put a hand on Sam's forehead and swore again when he felt that Sam was warmer than usual. Dean nudged his brother and patted Sam's face. But Sam remained unconscious. Dean growled and lifted Sam on his feet. His head shot back to Sam as he groaned and eyelids fluttered.
'Sammy, you with me?' Dean asked, swiftly closing the toilet lid and settling Sam on it.

Sam didn't made an attempt to open his eyes. His head lolling to the side as he muttered something unintelligible.
But Dean leaned in closer and caught some of the muttered words.
'D'n...can't know...ribs...'
Dean frowned and steadied Sam again when Sam was sagging once again.
He pulled Sam's damp tee shirt up and froze in shock when he saw the bruised skin. Nasty patches welled up skin. Dean put a hand against the ribs and felt a rib shift. Both Sam and he winced. Dean also saw the rim of a bandage. What the hell? He looked more closely and saw crimson stains on it. Dean started to steam in anger.
'Fantastic job, geek.' Dean growled as he put the shirt back down. He wanted to jostle Sam, scream at him, throwing this at him for not telling him he was injured. But he kept his head cool and pulled Sam back up, dragging him along.

Dean ignored the pain in his arms and the staring eyes. He walked out the restaurant and grunted as he saw the shiny black hood of the Impala. He didn't know how he did it, but somehow, he managed to open the car door and manhandle Sam onto the passenger seat. Sam immediately keeled over, head hitting the dashboard.

Dean winced when he heard the thud and swiftly moved around the car to get in. He sat down and leaned Sam against the window. Dean searched Sam's pulse and exhaled deeply when he felt it. It was way too fast and fluttering but at least Sam had one. But the pallid colour of Sam's face frightened him and made him shoot in action. He folded his leather jacket into a shape-shift cushion, put the car in reverse and U-turned down the parking lot, back to the motel.


Dean dropped Sam's heavy ass on the bed. His arms were sore and muscles contracting slightly.
But he didn't mind, he needed to take care of Sam.

Dean pulled off both his brother's hoodie and thick fleece shirts and closed his eyes in frustration and anger as he saw the discoloured skin on Sam's side and the bloodstained bandage. Placing a hand softly on the ribs Dean felt heat radiating from Sam's skin. His other hand slid up to Sam's forehead and also there Dean felt heat.

Dean threw his own jacket on the ground as he grabbed the first aid kit. He took a pair of scissors and started cutting the dirty bandage away, grimacing as it was stuck to the wound. He peeled it off trying to cause as less damage as possible.

The wound wasn't clean, it was deep and blood started to trickle again. Red puffy edges around the gash showed an infection, just like the yellow pus leaking through the stitches. Dean saw that some were busted and shook his head.
'For God's Sake, Sam, we used to trust each other..' he growled and took out some rubbing alcohol and gauze. Dean cleaned the wound as good as possible and stitched the wound again, making sure he closed up everything.

Next he assessed the ribs. When Dean pressed slightly on the ribs, Sam inhaled sharply, a crease forming between his eyebrows. Sam's eyes fluttered and his eyes dashed wildly behind the eyelids.
Dean quickly abandoned the ribs and shifted next to Sam's head.
'Sammy, y'hear me? Open your eyes for me, kiddo.' He said clearly, patting softly on Sam's hot cheek.

But as sick as he was, Sam didn't respond. His eyes stopped fluttering and he was silent again. Dean sighed and moved again over to the damage. He felt again but was a bit disappointed when Sam didn't react as the ribs shifted.
Yeah, definitely broken.
Good job on looking after yourself Sammy. Dean though bitterly and put a new bandage around the ribs, stabilizing them as good as possible.

Now he was fully done with patching up, Dean started on getting Sam undressed. However when he bent over to grab the dirty tee shirt that he threw next to Sam he saw another large gash on Sam's arm. It was bleeding and also this wound was seriously infected. Well it was a bit logical.
One part was stitched, the rest was left open and it was easy as hell for the germs to cause an infection. Like facing a ghost without salt rounds.
Or fighting against a Dagiau that can be invisible without knowing.


Dean rubbed his weary eyes as he grabbed a fresh washcloth. He placed the damp rag on Sam's hot forehead.
Sam was twitching and writhing, sweat forming on his body. The fever had taken hold an hour ago, just after Dean had finished stitching up. But now it was still rising.

Dean took a glass of water with crushes Ibuprofen in it. He needed Sam to drink, he would dehydrate if he wouldn't. For the fifth time in 10 minutes, Dean tried to wake Sam up. But his little brother was caught in the throes of fever and infection. Dean was about to jostle Sam when Sam's eyes suddenly opened. Eyes darting and breathing ragged.

Dean grabbed Sam's hand that had started to claw at his chest.
'Easy kiddo, I'm here. You with me?' Dean asked, hovering over Sam, so he could look into Sam's dazed and glassy eyes. The hazel eyes were filled with pain.

Sam looked at Dean confused and blinked twice, sweat still forming on his forehead and brows.
Dean sighed.
'Listen Sammy, I need you to drink this, okay? Little sips. Can you do that for me?' Dean asked waited until Sam nodded before putting the glass against Sam's lips. With his other hand, Dean held Sam's head up so he wouldn't choke.

Sam drank three sips before his eyes rolled back and his head lolled in Dean's hand.
Dean cursed as he put Sam's head back on the cushion and put a thermometer between Sam's slightly parted lips. He waited impatiently until the little thing beeped and cursed even more as he read the temperature.


Dean read it again and stared at Sam with big eyes. No wonder Sam just fainted, he was burning up!
Dean ran towards the shower letting the tub fill with cold water. How did he let it get that far?
He didn't wait until the tub was filled but shot back to Sam and lifted his brother with a grunt from the bed. He undressed Sam until the younger man was only clad in boxers. He knew there was no way Sam would keep straight up in the tub, so Dean undressed himself too, putting Sam in the tub first before joining him. The water was ice cold and soon Dean was shivering, but he didn't care, he needed Sam to cool down.

In the begin Sam was shifting and moaning but when the cool water was actually pretty relieving, Sam sighed and slid back into unconsciousness.

Dean cradled Sam and placed the thermometer again between his little brother's lips. He waited again and sighed when he read the temperature. 104.8. Nope, not good enough for him.
So the two brother sat there. One unconscious and the other thinking about what had gone wrong.

When Sam's fever was reduced to 102°F, Dean dragged his brother out of the tub. Sam was still warm but he himself was chilled to the bone. Shivering heavily he looped Sam's arm around his neck and hauled Sam on his feet. He would dry his little brother as soon as he was in the bed. Dean sighed and put Sam carefully as possible on Sam's cot. Sam groaned as his head touched the cushion but remained quiet for the rest. Dean went quickly to the bathroom to empty the tub and grab some towels. When he was back he dried Sam and redressed the bandages, checking if the stitches had hold.

Relieved the stitches were intact and Sam was dry, Dean put Sam a pair of sweatpants and a shirt on before lifting Sam again and putting him in his bed.
Sam's would be soaky and Dean didn't want to risk Sam getting pneumonia.

Dean threw his own wet boxers on the ground and quickly put on some dry clothes. He was still shivering but first things first.
With an eye on Sam, Dean dug out the first aid kit and pulled out a syringe. He didn't want to use it but he had no other choice.

Dean skidded next to Sam and put the syringe in the little bottle. He let out the air and jabbed the needle in Sam's arm, pushing the penicillin in his arm.
Dean pulled a blanket over Sam and dropped on his behind. But the respite wasn't for long because he still had a lot of things to do.

He started stripping the wet sheets of Sam's bed and dropped everything on a pile in the bathroom. He would sort it out as soon as Sam was out of the danger zone.

When Dean had done all the things he needed to do, he dropped on a chair, wrapping a thin blanket around his shoulders. A hot shower would do so much good. But no, Sam was on the first place now.

It was so warm. Why was it so warm? He needed to get out of the heat, but his arms weren't cooperating...he needed to get up before Dean would...Dean...He can't find needed to get away from here.
The monster would hurt him and Dean...needed to save his brother...!

There was this sharp pain in the crease of his arm and Sam squinted. He tried to open his eye so he could face the Monster that was attacking him. But his attempt for hitting it failed miserably when something grabbed his wrist and pinched his arm on the ground.

Sam tried to open his eyes again and saw something hovering above him. It growled and snarled, face misshapen and fuzzy. It was growling on him but Sam didn't listen. He needed his knife...he needed to save...Dean...
Darkness succumbed him again and he sank into oblivion.

When he woke back up he didn't felt the presence of something. He opened his eyes and saw that he was alone in a dark place. A forest? Or a dungeon perhaps. He couldn't tell, it was too dark. And hot...he felt like he was burning alive. Hell...He was in Hell! No..he couldn't be...not...Dean...needed to save Dean! Needed to get up...

In his feverish mind, Sam started to push the suffocating blankets aside. He needed to get to Dean. Tell him where he was, that he was alright. He needed...

He pushed himself upright, or at least he tried. He was too weak, couldn't hold himself and crashed on the ground.

Dean was standing in the shower, the hot water drizzling over his aching back. Sleeping in a hard chair was never a good idea. But he had to. Sam's fever was still way too high but it was settling. It had been changing between 104°F and 103°F. Now it was a constant 102.4
Still too high, but at least Sam wasn't walking on the brink of death.

He sighed and closed the tap, exhaling and pressing his forehead against the wall. He closed his eyes and sighed again.


Dean's head shot up and eyes opened. He jumped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist and took his gun.
He carefully opened the door and looked in the room. He gasped when he saw Sam writhing on the ground, moaning and shivering.

Dean sprinted towards Sam and threw the gun on the table.
'Sam? Sammy? You hear me, kiddo?' he called, grabbing Sam's face.

But Sam kept moaning and blabbering stuff about Hell and Need.
'Sam, open your eyes for me!' Dean patted on Sam's warm cheek. It was then he noticed Sam was actually a bit cooler than before. The fever was running off.
And then one of Sam's eyes cracked open, confused and dull. He stared at Dean, flailing with his arms.
Dean took Sam's arms and pinned them on the ground.
'Ssh, Sam, it's okay, I'm here.' He bent over Sam and pressed his own forehead against Sam's
'I'm here...'



'Sammy? You with me?'

Sam frowned as he heard the word. It was so familiar as for the voice.
Sammy...yeah, that was the name Dean used to call him.

Dean..the voice?

Sam opened his eyes and stared right in one pair of worried green ones. Dean sighed in relief and let his shoulders slump.
'Thank God...' he whispered and rubbed a calloused hand over his face before looking at Sam.

Sam blinked as he watched Dean
'D'n?' he whispered unbelievingly.
Dean nodded and smiled. He bent over Sam to reach for something Sam couldn't see.
'I'm here Sammy, just take it easy m'kay?' Dean said and measured something.
Then there was a sharp pinch in the crease of his elbow.
'The hell..' Sam muttered and looked at his arm.
Dean patted on Sam's shoulder
'It's okay, just given you your last shot of penicillin. You've been living on the stuff for a good 4 days.'
Sam blinked in shock and stared at Dean.
'Four days?'
Dean nodded and put the syringe on the nightstand.
'Take a rest, you'll feeling better when you're awake.' Dean stood up and pulled the blanket over Sam's shoulders. Sam closed his eyes and drifted off.


When Sam woke up he felt better. Wasn't as warm as he was before and his vision wasn't swimming anymore. Sure he was sore but he felt better than before. He looked to his right as he heard something. He smiled as he saw Dean lying on the opposite bed, hand brushing the ground and mouth slightly opened.

Sam watched his brother sleeping. The dark purple rings marred the older Winchester's face as for the lack of colour in his face. But Dean was alive. Thank Heavens for that.

When Sam was sure Dean would stay asleep, he pulled the blanket off his body, and propped himself against the head board.
It was a slow and painful movement but he needed to sit up.

Sam sighed as he felt the familiar burning pain in his ribs and the pull of his flesh where stitches were placed. He couldn't wait for Dean's preach...

He sighed again and dropped his head against the board, closing his eyes.

Sam woke up in a dark room. The blinds were closed but he could see the street lights burning outside. He noticed that he was lying flat on his back again and frowned.
He looked to the right again but saw nothing. Dean was gone.
Sam got up slowly, swinging his legs over de rim of the cot and waited there.

His legs felt like Jell-O and he didn't want to try get up. So he sat there, waiting patiently on Dean's return.

It was after 5 minutes that the motel door opened and Dean stepped inside, carrying a bag. He shuffled around and locked the door, stepping carefully over the salt lines.
He put the bag on the table and shrugged out of his jacket. Then he glanced over at Sam.

it was as if his heart missed a beat when he saw Sam sitting up.
'Sammy?' he called, switching on the light in the kitchen.
Sam squinted but was glad Dean hadn't put the light on in their room.
'Hi Dean.' He muttered and blinked at Dean.
Dean walked towards Sam and placed a cool hand on his forehead.
'How are you feeling, kiddo?'Dean asked and assessed Sam carefully as he pushed Sam carefully back in the bed.
'As if I'm being ran over by a herd of cows.' Was the hoarse answer.
Dean rolled his eyes and walked back to the bed, grabbing a bottle.
Sam recognized the blue sportsdrink and smirked.

Sam smirked and eyed Dean. His brother was taking out a cup and poured some of the liquid in it before handing it over to Sam.
'Take these too. 'm not giving you any more Penicillin.' Dean said and handed Sam a couple of pills.
'What are-'
'Ibuprofen, for the infection. Although I think it's almost gone.' Dean said and unpacked some supplements before dropping in the chair, looking at Sam with scrutinizing eyes.
Sam swallowed the pills and drank 2 more sips before putting the bottle on his knee. He avoided Dean's gaze.
'Sam..' Dean spoke glancing down. He didn't know where to start. He sure as hell wanted to kick Sam's ass for lying to him and hiding the extent of his injuries. He had been caring for his little brother for 5 full days. On the third day Sam's fever had spiked so badly Dean wanted to drag Sam to the ER. Or the time Sam had fallen out of his bed hadn't done him so much good either.
'Sam, what are we doing? We...I-' Dean sighed and bent forwards, elbow on his knees, hands cradling his forehead.
Sam put the bottle away in shock and moved towards Sam, groaning softly as he moved his sore body. But he ignored it and put a hand on Dean's shoulder.
'Dean? What's wrong?' he asked softly and tried to look into Dean's eyes, but his brother didn't look up, too busy staring at his shoes.

Minutes flew by but to Sam it felt like hours. Sitting there, incapable of helping his brother. His brother that always helped him sort things out. He didn't know what to do, hell, he didn't even know what to say! It was all so awkward...

Then Dean lifted his head, eyes glassy from unshed tears. Tears of impotence, of guilt. Sam patted Dean's shoulder again.
' okay?' he asked softly, looking into Dean's eyes.
Dean opened his mouth but closed it again, looking away. Then all of the sudden he got up, kicking the chair on the ground.
'No I'm not okay, Sam and neither are you! What the hell are we doing? We used to have each other backs, and now you don't trust me anymore?' he yelled and threw his hands in the air.
Sam totally shocked by the sudden change of mood, gasped and blinked.
'Dean...what do you mean?' he asked, not knowing what else to say.

'What do I mean? Sam, look at yourself, you have been battling one hell of an infection, not to mention all the ravings and nightmares. You've been ass kicked by that fugly oversized invisible My Little Pony! You were this close from being dragged to the Hospital.' Dean spat and turned to Sam, looking heatedly in the latter's eyes.
Sam almost cringed from that heated stare but refused to look away.
'I'm s-'
'If you're going to say "I'm sorry." So help me God I will kick your ass myself!' Dean yelled again.
Now Sam did cringe, he looked away and his shoulders slumped. Dean was right, 'sorry' wasn't going to help, Dean had all the right to be angry with him. Wasn't that what he wanted in the first place?

Dean had noticed Sam's cringe, and softened a bit. It was not right to yell at Sam, there had to be a reason why Sam had hide the extent of his injuries.
'Sammy,' he started and walked closer to the bed, crouching in front of it and reached for Sam's turned away face. 'I...You should have told me, I thought you were dying...'
That made Sam look up.
'I wasn't...'
'No you weren't, but you were walking on the front porch of Death's door, you know? I was afraid I couldn't lower you fever so I had to take you to the hospital. Why-' Dean looked into Sam's eyes.
'Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?'
Sam swallowed and looked away, but Dean grabbed his chin and turned his head so he had to look at Dean.
Sam assessed Dean's worn face, he couldn't tell him...He couldn't...
'I didn't want to screw up this hunt too, after what happened with dad, I just...I didn't want to fail you again. I didn't want to be pathetic, for once I didn't want you to save my sorry ass. For once I just didn't want to fail you again...'
Sam looked away and to his surprise he felt one single tear rolling over his cheek. Furiously he wanted to rub it away but Dean grabbed his wrist.
' never failed me..or dad.' When Sam wanted to intervene, Dean raised his hand and looked deeply in Sam's eyes. 'You always do the research and your work is always excellent, trust me, I couldn't do better. Sam, Dad and I love you. Sure we have been strict but you aren't the easiest one in the world. You know that.'
A little smile tugged at Sam's mouth.

'Sammy, what happened back in the wasn't your fault. No one has ever seen a Dagiau, or lived long enough to study them. You couldn't know that they could be invisible and I'm sorry that I blamed you for that. It's just...I was so worry, man. When I was being dragged away I saw the other one skulking around, but I wasn't fast enough to warn you. It's me who has to be sorry.' Dean said and sat next to Sam as he saw that his younger brother was softly crying. He hugged him and somewhere in his head he could hear the famous: This is going to be a chick-flick moment-mantra.
Damn that, Sam needed him and...he needed Sam.

'And about me saving your ass...That's what I do, Sammy, you are my little brother and it's my job to save you when needed to. And I will always, always be there for you. You are not pathetic, you are not a failure. You are my brother and I love you, no matter what happens.' Dean hugged Sam closer as his little brother started to sob, and he himself felt also tears rolling down his cheeks.

They still had a long way to go, but for now, everything was okay.