Beta: No Beta... No friends, No anything! Yeah, no, my English is really better than that!

A/N: I pictured all this crap in my head on the way to see my orthodontist... of course putting it down was a lot harder than I thought... this is my first fic to actually survive my moods and end up somewhere worthwhile instead of just being deleted away! This means I will either probably never, ever write again or I will write worse crap than this!

Rating: T... only because of all the swearing, really!

Thanks: Very specially to Enkidou and OnyxMoonbeam who came up with the wonderful idea of Drabble Challenges... they were very inspirational... Here, I admit that I suck at writing teeny stories and will not be leaping off a swing into the sandbox that everyone plays in, but believe me, the benches are comfortable and I'll be watching!

A/N 2: This is an edited version of the original story because I decided the swearing was a little overboard. There is still some swearing but it's much better!

Sam saw the blood long before he connected the dots to the mystery that was clearly unfolding right in front of him. Dammit... shit! Fucking walking trees, fucking ents, goddamn Lord of the Rings... FUCK!

The tree was pissed. They'd burnt it's entire family... no, it's entire species into ash and dust. It was just a bitch slap Sam thought helplessly, his legs not going as fast as they should... could. The damn thing just pulled back it's arm-like branch and whipped it into Dean face.

Dean's face snapped sideways so fast, Sam thought his head would just come off. A fine spray of bloody spittle erupted from Dean's open mouth and he went down. Sam just kept running. Dean didn't just go down, he practically crumpled into himself, folded down like a sweater dropped neatly from a height.

And then Sam had made it, all that cursing and he lit up the flame-thrower, tossed several of his pocketed Molotov cocktails without lighting them and set the monstrosity alight.

He stood there frozen even as the burning tree scorched his skin and singed the hairs on his arms. Frozen. The image of Dean's bloody face engraved onto his brain. And then it was hot, too damn hot to be stuck there with the flame-thrower barely in his grip and he leapt into action.

Dean lay in the exact same heap the tree had left him and Sam tried his best not to jostle the older Winchester as he set about straightening him out. Dean made a soft keening like an animal in it's deathbed.

"Dean?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Sss..." was all Dean could manage before he grabbed at his head in agony. He was losing it... all his composure was draining out of him... not to mention his blood.

"Dean, stay awake, man."

Dean held his face with one hand and the other left his aching, bleeding head to point vigorously at his mouth. Sam looked and notice blood pooling around his chin and in the hand cupping his face. Sam was lost. The blood was everywhere. Deans head, his nose, fuck... even his ears were bleeding.

"C'mon, let's get you to the car." Sam tried to seem as calm as possible but there was a Dean-looking conscience screaming so freaking loud in his head it almost sounded like Dad. He couldn't move Dean around, my God... his brain must be watermelon juice, God he hated watermelon juice! Sam wondered if maybe Dean was brain dead... just motioning in his comatose state... SHIT!

"Mmm..." Dean tried, still pointing at his bleeding mouth. His hand looked like a humming bird, fifty times a fucking second and Sam wanted to slap himself for all the useless shit that was piling up in his thought centres!

"Just stay awake, we'll get you to the nearest hospital, okay," Sam said, almost to himself, "You'll be fine. This is all gonna be over... we'll get you fixed up Dean, no more trees, no more fucking trees! You're okay, Dean, look at you, good to go, we're gonna go to the car okay, Dean? To the car, the Impala, 'kay?"

No you won't, Dad's voice on Dean's face said... You're gonna kill him before you even see the goddamn car... and now it really was Dean's voice!

It was only when Sam helped Dean to his feet and his older brother started to sway from the sudden change in altitude that he realized how Dean's lower jaw moved with his hand.

"Dean, shit, what the fuck, man?"

Dean's eyes were rolling into his head and his hand started to fall away from his jaw. Everything was going too fast for Sammy to catch up. Sam caught Dean's face in his free hand and held his mouth closed while blood and saliva and fuck if there wasn't any brain in there came spilling into his hand.

"Shit, Dean!" Sam was going to hurl... he was going to puke things he only thought about... no, only imagined eating last year if Dean didn't wake up and start kidding around. It looked like Dean's head and maybe his fingers had been pulsed around in a blender and just let lose on the world!

And Dean... He was dead to the world, passed out comfortably against Sam's bloody jacket.