Absolutely no slash to be found in this fic, just pure, platonic, brotherly love.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just like to play in Kripke's sandbox from time to time.
During a vamp hunt, Dean is wounded. Sam takes him back to the hotel and tends to his brother's wounds as he becomes flooded with his own memories, and Dean turns to an emotionally distraught Sam to help fix him too. Hurt!Dean, Hurt!Sam, emotionally hurt!Sam.
(This is my first time actually writing a real hurt/comfort fic, so please go easy on me! ^^;)
A Little Stitch Here, A little Healing There
It was eerily silent, darker than night and almost impossible to see anything. No street lights could be seen on the outskirts of town back behind the bar and a few old, boarded up, dilapidated buildings. Nothing could be heard in the alleyway except for a few subtle sounds of water dripping from a rusted pipe, and the two hunters did not let their guards down as the two brothers moved stealthily and quietly down the dark, confined area, their machetes held tightly in their hands. Sam peered around the building and pointed to himself and past the building at Dean, silently signaling his big brother who nodded back in return. Sam looked oddly tight-lipped and maybe a bit anxious, but Dean brushed it off as nothing as Sam turned the corner, disappearing into the alley before he heard an inhuman growl.
"SON OF A BI-," was all Dean could get out as a female vampire with long, red hair cascading down her back stepped out and grabbed Dean by the arm. She flung across the alleyway and he landed hard on top of a dumpster before bouncing off and landed hard on the gravelly pavement.
Dean's voice was cut off and strangled as Sam heard his brother banging into something and landing on the ground, followed by a grunt.
Whipping around Sam took off at a run, stopping straight in his tracks, finding his brother being lifted by his jacket by the redhead she-vamp, and then thrown into one of the walls of the old, broken down buildings surrounding them. "DEAN!" Sam cried out as he raced toward the vampire and his brother, but Sam couldn't get to Dean in time as he watched his brother slam face-first into the wall before the vampire grabbed Dean by the arms and flung him around, letting out in inhuman sound as the vamp's claws dug into Dean's bicep.
"YOU GET OFF OF MY BROTHER YOU BLOOD-SUCKING BITCH!" the younger Winchester roared, his brotherly instincts kicking in as the vamp twisted her head, long red hair obscuring her face slightly, toward at the oncoming hunter. The bloodthirsty monster flung one hand out and it slammed straight into Sam's chest, knocking the wind out of him. The collision sent him flying backward, and he landed hard on his side, feeling some stray, broken glass slice into the side of his forearm upon impact. The vamp continued to stare back at Sam, and Sam knew exactly what it wanted, so he pretended to play 'knocked out cold' for a moment before the vampire turned back toward Dean seemingly satisfied.
"You killed the entire nest," she hissed at the older Winchester as she removed her hand from Dean's shoulder and wrapped blood-covered, bony fingers around Dean's throat. Dean's eyes bugged out as his hands clawed at the monster's hand begging for release and struggling for breath. "Those were my family, my brothers and sisters and you destroyed all of them, and now you're a human again? What makes you so special? How did you get cured? Maybe I should just turn you back myself, or better yet… maybe I'll just drain you so your brother over there can watch you die slowly and messy."
"I don't think so," came a cold, hardened voice from behind her and Dean fought against his eyes rolling back into his head to see the blurry form of Sam towering over them.
The growling creature didn't have a moment to spare before Sam swung the sharpened machete, slicing the vampire's head off with little effort. It fell to the ground, followed by her body, with a sickening thud and rolled away. The moonlight now appeared from behind a cloud down into the alleyway offering a bit of light, glistening off of the blood-covered machete Sam held clutched in his fist, the blood slowly dripping off of it. Sam shoved the headless body aside with his foot, and Dean slumped down to the ground unable to hold himself upright anymore, clearly injured clutching his throat, coughing and trying to breath. He was clasping a hand around his bleeding arm. The side of his face was busted up, his lush green eyes staring at Sam at halfmast, and his mouth was covered with blood. Sam paused, staring at his brother for a moment with wide eyes. This scenario seemed horribly familiar, like deja-vu, as if it'd happened before. Rolling his shoulders and shaking his chestnut head, Sam brushed it off and looked down at the older Winchester. "Hey, hey, Dean? A-are you okay? Talk to me, bro" Sam stammered slightly before stooping down to help his brother.
"Just peachy, Sammy," Dean coughed and then grunted as he tried to push himself to his feet. "Vamp caught me off-guard 's all."
"C'mon, don't force yourself, Dean. You got pummeled pretty good," Sam told his brother softly, before grabbing Dean's uninjured arm and slinging it over his own broad shoulders. Sam tugged his flashlight out of his jacket pocket before shining it in Dean's face. "I'm sorry, Dean, but I need you to look at me. I need to see your pupils." Dean grunted in protest put opened his eyes against the bright light, blinking a few times allowing his eyes to adjust and Sam peered close, checking Dean's eyes. His pupils looked normal. No dilation, so no concussion. He switched off the flashlight and breathed a soft sigh.
"Yeah, well you got thrown back and landed pretty hard yourself, Sammy," Dean tried to force out, voice sounding rough and he coughed again.
"Let's get you back to the room and cleaned up," the younger hunter continued, ignoring his big brother and his own wounded forearm along with the searing pain in his side and the soreness in his chest. Dean was more important and needed to be taken care of before he bled out. Sam stripped out of his jacket and wrapped it around Dean's wounded bicep, tying the sleeves together tight. "Keep pressure on that."
"Don' baby me, Sam. 'M fine," the older hunter insisted with slightly slurred words and trying to shove away from Sam weakly, but Sam just snorted quietly at his brother.
"Yeah, you sound and look fine too. I mean when a guy typically looks like he went twenty rounds with a brick wall, it'd be anybody best guess that he's not fine," the younger Winchester responded exasperated as he rolled his eyes and hefted Dean to his feet. "C'mon. Let's just get back to the car, and get back to the room. I'll take care of you. I think that arm might need some stitches. We'll check for sure once we get back," Sam gestured toward Dean's blood-soaked bicep, a subtle earnest heard in his voice, and Dean didn't back down.
Honestly it felt like that vampire had knocked him for a loop, and the whole left side of his face hurt. It was causing his head to throb migraine-style, and his stomach rolled slightly from the pounding in his noggin. Dean could taste the warm, wet copper that had flooded his mouth, and he shuddered involuntarily from bad memories. He didn't fight Sam on this one though. This was his real, soul-filled brother, and even though he'd been suffering from his recent flashes of memories of soullessness and Hell, Sam was still putting aside his issues to take care of Dean. That's the Sammy that Dean knew.
Sighing, he allowed Sam to lead him back to the car. Truthfully, if he'd tried to walk on his own, Dean felt like he might pass out because he was feeling somewhat dizzy and a little nauseous. It was probably from getting his head and the side of his face slammed into a brick wall, Dean figured. Sam opened up the passenger side door of the Impala and helped get Dean seated comfortably before shutting the door and sliding into driver's side, starting up the Impala. Dean gazed over at his little brother, noticing the blood on Sam's own arm and wondered what had happened to his kid brother.
"Wha' happened to your arm, S'my?" Dean questioned his thoughts aloud, pointing toward the patch of blood that had welled up through Sam's shirt sleeve.
"Oh it's nothing," Sam insisted as he tugged his shirt sleeve to hide the cut from Dean's view. "When that vamp threw me, I landed on some broken glass. No big. I don't think it's deep enough to need stitches or anything. Quick bandage wrap up should do the trick. Not to worry," Sam replied, trying his best to sound optimistic, but Dean could hear something odd in Sam's tone and worry settled in Dean's already queasy stomach. Something was going on with his little brother, and when he was feeling not quite so loopy from having his head knocked around, he was going to find out why, because Dean wasn't sure if he'd be able to focus enough at the present moment. He let his head slump against the window and allowed himself to drift off while Sam drove them back to the motel room in silence.
Dean felt like his eyes had only been shut for a moment when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. "S'my?"
"Hey, Dean. We're back. Let's get you inside and cleaned up," Sam was telling his brother softly, and Dean groaned, raising his hands to rub at his tired eyes. They had been at least a good 25 minute drive from the motel, and it certainly hadn't felt like a 25 minute nap, more like a 2 minute nap. "Sorry, Dean. I know. Let's just get you laid down and resting. I'll take care of you," Sam told him sounding more like the big brother than Dean, and that just wasn't right. He grumbled to himself as Sam shut the driver's side door behind him and approached Dean on the passenger side. Dean opened up the door to find Sam stooping down to help Dean to his feet.
He felt tempted to push Sam off of him, but he didn't as Sam grasped Dean's elbow and helped get him to his feet. Feeling inadequate, he allowed Sam to lead him back to the motel room before shrugging his younger brother off and flopping down on his bed. "I'm fine, Sam. Don't need you coddling me," Dean growled sluggishly at the younger Winchester who appeared to be ignoring him as he dug through the duffle on his bed. Tucking hair behind his ear, Sam moved on to the second duffle. "You diggin' for gold, Sammy?" Dean chuckled, albeit painfully, at his own lame joke, and Sam still ignored him. He stood up a few moments later, his hands clutching the first aid kit and moved toward Dean's bed.
"Sit back," Sam ordered before placing the first aid kit on the nightstand in between the brothers' beds. "Stay there, and don't move. I'll be right back," he added before heading into the bathroom. Dean watched the bathroom light flip on and then heard the sound of running water before the younger hunter made his way out of the bathroom, holding a warm, wet washcloth in his hand. Dean laid his head back against the propped up pillows on the headboard of his bed and closed his eyes, feeling the side of the bed dip with Sam's weight. "I'm gonna take this off your arm, Dean," Sam told him, gently tugging at the tied sleeves and removing his blood-stained jacket from Dean's arm. " I need to get a good look at your arm so let's get this off," Sam continued, carefully tugging at the sleeve of Dean's jacket and helping his older brother slip out of it. He tossed it onto the floor in a heap, along with his own jacket and helped Dean remove his button-down, dark green shirt that had blood covering the whole top of the arm. Sam gently pushed up Dean's t-shirt sleeve, well Dean grit his teeth against the pain and he carefully and tenderly began cleaning his brother's arm. Dean hissed and moaned only a few times while Sam worked until finally the peroxide and warm water had washed the wound clean, but was still oozing some blood. "It's pretty deep, Dean. I'm gonna have to stitch it. Probably about four or five stitches, okay?" Sam told him softly as he prepped the needle and thread. Dean just grunted in response, watching his younger brother work, but he could feel the tenseness in Sam, he could see something flickering in and out in his little brother's hazel eyes and could see as Sam pursed his lips.
"Sam?" Dean began. "Is everything alright?"
"Fine, Dean. I just need to get this done so you don't bleed all over yourself. Just let me do this," Sam told him, and Dean could clearly hear the lie in the tone of his brother's voice. He felt like badgering him, but figured he'd let Sam go ahead and get his arm stitched up before he had to do some fixing himself. If it made Sam feel better to take care of his wounds, then by all means. Dean clenched his teeth together, hissing through them as he felt the needle pierce through his skin, followed by the gentle tugging sensation of the thread pulling his skin back together. One thing about Sam, he was always so careful and tender when treating wounds, especially stitching him up and Dean had to admit he was grateful for his brother's giant, yet caring hands.
He remembered how Dad used to stitch him up and it certainly wasn't with compassion the way Sammy always did. Even when he was a child and had to stitch Dean up, Sammy still always used such gentle, caring hands and careful technique. Dean remained quiet and allowed his brother to work, feeling the sting of the needle entering his skin each time and the tugging of the thread pulling his skin together, hearing the snipping of the thread with the scissors as Sam finished each stitch until finally he was done. Sam re-washed the wound and then wound a bandage around Dean's arm to protect the stitches. Next, Sam scooted up the bed closer to Dean's face and Dean felt Sam's giant hand cup his chin. Next thing he knew, the warm, wet washcloth was cleaning his mouth off that had been covered in uncomfortable, dry crusted blood. It moved down the side of his face causing Dean to wince from pain as the cloth touched him in a particularly painful place.
"Sorry, Dean," Sam replied softly in answer to Dean's expression. "You have a huge bruise starting to form on your cheek. I'll go get you some ice for that when I get done. Just trying to get your face cleaned up. There's blood all over it."
"You don't have to do all of this for me, Sammy," Dean insisted feeling more coherent and he pushed himself up a bit more, using his good arm. "I'm not dying or anything. I can do it all myself. You're kinda beat up too, you know. You should take a rest yourself."
"I have to do this, Dean," the younger Winchester insisted, voice slightly trembling and it made Dean cock his head somewhat.
"Sam-," Dean began, but his kid brother cut him off.
"Just let me get this done, Dean. Just… let me check. Just let me make sure you're okay," Sam insisted before looking back at his brother, his hazel eyes staring at him in earnest, pleading and sad.
"What? Check wha-," Dean tried again, but stopped as he felt Sam gently tug his upper lip upward to expose his teeth and gums. Oh… oh, shit. Sammy…
Sam's giant finger prodded Dean's gums, and Dean knew that his kid brother was searching for fangs. Sammy had remembered, and that's what was wrong with him. It was tearing his baby brother apart. Dean could not only just see it now, but he could feel it in Sam's touch. The tension was practically unbearable. He heard Sam breathe a sigh of relief before letting go of Dean's lip and turning away from his older brother. Dean slowly sat up in bed and began to place his hand on Sam's shoulder, but Sam made to stand. "I need to go get that ice for your jaw," he said quietly, barely above a whisper, but Dean's hand gripped firm on his baby brother's large shoulder and pushed him back down.
"Sammy. You wouldn't have just randomly checked my teeth for nothing," Dean began as he sat up, more alert than ever now. His brother was hurting, and when Sammy was hurting, nothing came before that. Dean needed to put on the big brother bandaids and fix Sam, just as Sam fixed him tonight from the vampire attack. "You remembered, didn't you?" Sam stayed silent, only his head lowering a bit before Dean tugged on his shoulder again, gesturing for Sam to turn toward him, and the younger Winchester obeyed, turning his body back toward Dean so he was facing him, only not looking at him. His head was dropped, hair obscuring his eyes from Dean's view, and broad shoulders were slumped in evident defeat. "Sammy?" Dean tried again.
"I did that to you, Dean. I let that happen to you, and it could've happened again tonight. What would I have done then, Dean? How can I even call myself your brother? It's all my fault you lost Lisa and Ben. It's all my fault you had to live like some kind of monster," the younger Winchester responded, his voice broken and defeated. "I just stood there and let you get turned. I didn't even care while I was doing it. I even smirked at the satisfaction of the situation, and then I lied to you and told you I was trying to remain calm over you being turned into a monster. I couldn't even get worried about my own brother. What the hell kind of monster does that make me, Dean?" Sam's voice broke on the last word, causing Dean's heart to plummet into his stomach.
Dean grasped Sam's chin and forced his kid brother to raise his head. "Sam, look at me right now," Dean ordered, and Sam did as his was told. He lifted his huge, hazel, water-filled puppy eyes at his big brother, and Dean could feel Sam's chin quivering in his hand. Sam looked all of 6 years old as he stared at Dean, and it made Dean's heart want to melt into his chest. This was his Sammy, and he was going to take care of his little brother. Though, this was definitely not good. Sam was going to royally beat himself up over this. Dean knew it. He could see it in his baby brother's eyes.
"Sam, regardless of how much you think it was you, T-1000 wasn't you, and you are not a monster. It was not the real you. Sammy, the real you was somewhere that you didn't even belong; you were in Hell, little brother. You had no control over this. You can't blame yourself for the things that your body decided to go around doing without it's soul, without you, inside of it to control it. Lisa and Ben? They're not your fault, Sammy. That's my fault. I never should've gone and seen them when I did. I should've known better. I've been a hunter for too long, I should've stayed where I was. I screwed that up, Sammy. Not you."
"But I helped," Sam insisted his voice choking on the oncoming tears, and Dean could really feel the full blown puppy dog eyes practically mowing him down, and he could feel his heart squeeze in his chest. "It doesn't matter, Dean. You can say it wasn't me, you can say it was your fault, but the fact remains that it was me, a part of me. I stood there, and I let you get turned all by myself, and because I let you get turned, you went and said goodbye to Lisa and Ben, thinking you'd never see them again. You were a vampire when you did it, and you were only a vampire because of me. That was my fault, Dean. That's on me. It's all on me. That's something that I don't even know how I could ever make right. Something that I can't even fix. How can you even call me your brother anymore?" Sam pulled his chin out of Dean's hand and turned his head away from his brother, sniffling.
"Dammit, Sam. Please, stop making this so difficult," Dean pleaded with his younger brother, placing both hands on Sam's shoulders. "I don't blame you, Sammy. I don't at all. You've been through enough shit as it is, so why are you doing this to yourself now? It was out of your control. You can't sit there and blame yourself for something that was out of your control. RoboSam didn't listen to anybody, and he didn't even want you back inside of him. He wasn't my little brother, Sammy, you are. I mean look at you. You're turning into a weepy mess over this. RoboSam never shed a tear," Dean tried to joke, but he knew it was in vain. For once, Sam didn't smile at Dean's joke.
He could see Sam struggling to hold back his emotions, watched his brother's jaw clench, the long throat working, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, and Dean sighed. "C'mere, Sam," his voice gentled as he clutched onto his little brother's shoulder and pulled him into his own. Dean placed a hand on the back of Sam's head, allowing the younger Winchester to drop his head into Dean's shoulder. Sam sank into the embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around Dean, and Dean could feel his brother's giant shoulders begin quaking.
So, he just remained quiet, letting his brother cry it all out in his shoulder, feeling the salt water leaking through his thin t-shirt and onto his skin, but Dean honestly didn't mind. This was better than T-1000 any day. He'd take Sam acting like a giant girl over Sam having absolutely no emotions at all. He stroked the back of Sam's neck and shoulders and rested his cheek against Sam's soft, chestnut brown hair and closed his eyes, hearing the soft, muffled sobs coming from his kid brother and the sound pained Dean. So, he squeezed Sam a little tighter to him hoping that Sam would feel comforted by the gestures alone.
"Shhhh, Sammy, it's okay. I've gotcha." Please, please don't do this to yourself, Dean pleaded silently. It can be dangerous, and I don't want to risk the wall falling. I just got my little brother back. Don't take him from me again.
"Sorry, Dean," came Sam's chocked voice, buried somewhere in Dean's shoulder and Sam's own shoulders heaved some more.
"Nothing to be sorry about, Sammy. It's okay. It's okay. Just get it all out and then we focus on making it better, okay?" Dean told Sam softly into his hair, and he felt a rush of affection for his kid brother. Dean figured at this point though that Sam wasn't crying just because he let Dean get turned into a vampire, but for everything that had happened. Sam knew about trying to kill Bobby, Sam knew about the cold, soulless acts he performed thanks to that damned child in a trench coat telling him, but more recently the case Sam and Dean had taken in Bristol, Rhode Island that had turned out to be a trap for Sam, Sam knew what he'd done there, and Dean had watched the kid silently beat himself up over it before he'd fallen into a gran-mal seizure, and Hell sprang forth.
Hell, Dean knew what that was like, and if any man had went through Hell and survived it, he deserved to shed a few tears over it. That place was damned traumatic. Sam had been down there for 180 years with the way time moved in Hell, and it honestly made the older Winchester feel even more sick to his stomach at the thought of it and what Lucifer and Michael could've possibly done to his little brother. Then of course Dean had to wonder exactly what all Castiel had told Sam, because the younger Winchester hadn't elaborated on what all Cas said. Dean scowled at the thought of the angel, making a mental note of tearing Castiel a new one the minute he saw him again.
Dean felt Sam move slightly under his arms and his head turned outward and away from Dean's face, giving Sam way to breathe. He took in a unsteady, hitched, breath and let it out slowly, trying to gather himself, but never removing himself from Dean's shoulder, and Dean didn't protest. It was just him and his little brother here anyway. Who cared if they were having the ultimate chick flick moment of all chick flick moments. Nobody could see anyway. Dean carded his fingers through Sam's hair gently and gave his shoulder a gentle shrug.
"Hey, you okay there, Sammy?" He felt Sam's head nod up and down against shoulder, followed by some soft sniffling. Sam let out a soft, tired sigh, and Dean knew his kid brother had cried himself into exhaustion. "You know, your arm is still all cut up. Why don't you let me clean and bandage it up for you, huh?" Dean offered and Sam nodded again, sitting up, sniffling again and not facing Dean, but he could see that his brother's face was shiny and wet with tears. He watched another one well out of Sam's eyes and roll down his cheek to disappear under his chin, and another to streak it's way down into the crease of Sam's mouth. Dean could tell this was eating Sam alive, and the kid was exhausted to boot, so that wasn't helping Sam's currently unstable emotions. If he knew Sam and knew what was going on in that giant brain of his, he also knew that Sam was probably thinking that he shouldn't be allowed to have Dean fix his arm or deserve to be receiving the comfort that he was from his big brother.
"I know what you're thinking, Sam and that's enough. You know I don't think any of that and you shouldn't either," Dean scolded him gently. He was answered with another hitched breath from Sam, as the older Winchester sat himself up and grabbed the first aid kit, still sitting at the edge of the bed, and pulled Sam's wounded arm toward him. He peeled back Sam's sleeve, now hardened from dried blood. "I knew this was worse than you were letting on," Dean sighed at his kid brother, noticing blood still sneaking out here and there, but the cut wasn't deep enough to need stitches, thank goodness. "This may end up scarring, Sammy, but hopefully not too much." Dean grabbed the cotton balls, gauze pads and peroxide and set to work cleaning Sam's arm. Sam didn't make a peep as the peroxide met his cuts. Dean worked in silence cleaning his broken little brother's arm up before wrapping some bandages around Sam's arm and sealing it in place. "There ya go. Good as new," Dean told him with a slap on the leg and a small smile.
Sam finally had the courage to raise his red-rimmed, raw, wet eyes up to his brother in gratitude, and Dean could tell that Sam trusted himself not to speak. Dean just smiled again at Sam and grabbed one of the pillows from behind him, propping it up against his side. "Come lay down, Sam. You're exhausted," Dean told him patting the pillow. Sam's expression turned sheepish as he lay against his brother's side and Dean threw a protective arm over Sam's shoulders like he did when they were just kids.
Dean knew that sometimes all Sam needed was just his big brother, mending his broken heart back together again, and a little comforting sleep with Dean by his side, gently humming 'Hey Jude.' Dean stopped humming momentarily before looking back down at Sam. Hazel met green. "If you tell anybody about this, they'll never find your body," Dean warned and Sam huffed out a soft laugh at his brother before closing his aching, hazel eyes falling to sleep. "Mission accomplished," Dean stated with quiet satisfaction, before leaning back into his own pillows and following Sam into sleep. As it would seem, sometimes all Winchesters needed was just a little bit of brotherly healing.
I hope I did okay for my first hurt/comfort fic with the boys! I really tried! ^^; Reviews are love and inspiration as well as very much appreciated, so thank you to anybody who reads, faves and/or reviews!