Just wrote this short story after watching an episode of Supernatural where Sam has one of his painful visions. Just got me thinking about what the whole "It's okay, Sammy!" process really looked like and how the CW could deprive us of such an awesome opportunity of Big Brother Dean.

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! *Cries

Everything Hurts

Sam woke up with a start, his head pounding like mad and beads of sweat dotting his forehead.

He groaned and turned on the lamp next to his bed only to turn it off hastily moments later.

Too much light on his eyes. God, its like it's still there. Squinting his eyes, he tried to assess whether he could deal with this migraine on his own.

Sam laid back in the bed and flopped his arm down in front of him. He froze. Why were his arms wet and sticky?

Sam looked down. The bedsheets were covered in blood.

He flipped the covers back. Oh my god. It was everywhere. Yeah, he needed Dean.

"Dean!" He yelled, but it came out more like a raspy whisper. "Dean." No answer. He must've gone out.

Rolling out of bed, Sam attempted to stand up, but the wave of nausea was too intense and he was forced to drop to his hands and knees.

Crawling across the dirty carpet floor, Sam made his way to his cellphone on the small table by the door.

Pressing 1 for speed dial, he waited for Dean to answer, rubbing his forehead with one hand to try and stop the pain.

"Sam?" Even the bar noise behind Dean was too loud. "I'm up 200, what's this about?"

"Dean." Sam's pained voice completely changed his older brother's mood.

"Sammy? What's wrong." He asked, a softer voice replacing the cocky bar one.

Sam looked back at the bed. "Don' know. Blood. Headache. Please..."

Dean understood. "I'm on my way. Don't hang up, Sammy."

Sam nodded as he sat awkwardly on the floor.


"Yeah, here." He whispered, closing his eyes and groaning.

Dean stayed on the phone with Sam the entire ride back. Thank God he was only a block away.

How much blood was Sam talking about? Dean's hand shook as he took the key out of the car and made his way to the motel room door.

Sam covered his ears with his trembling hands as Dean softly creaked in the room.

He almost stepped on his little brother. He hadn't seen him sitting on the ground.

"Hey, Sammy." The hunter whispered, crouching down to his brother's level.

He gently checked Sam out for a source of the blood but he couldn't find anything that could cause the matted layer of it on the sleep clothes the kid was wearing.

"Can you stand up?" Sam nodded and Dean took the bloody hand and helped his brother to his feet.

Together, they made their way to the bathroom, where Dean stopped. "Crap. Close your eyes, Sammy."

He glanced to make sure his brothers eyes were shut before cracking the bathroom door and reaching in to turn of the bright light.

"'Kay, Sammy, let's go." He sat Sam down on the edge of the tub.

"Advil?" Dean asked quietly. Sam nodded and accepted the two pills and a glass of water moments later and swallowed them with a shaking hand.

"Let's get that shirt off." He winced at the amount of blood staining Sam's shirt. That's not healthy blood loss. Then again, there isn't any amount of blood loss that should be labeled "healthy."

"Sorry, Sammy, I need to turn the light on for one second." Sam nodded and squeezed his eyes shut as Dean quickly snapped the light on, turned on the faucet, found a towel, and turned the light off again.

Slowly, he rubbed at the dried, cracking blood on Sam's face.

"Wanna go to bed." Sam mumbled.

Dean sighed. "Do you have the energy to shower?"

Sam nodded again, the meds already kicking in and making him drowsy.

"Do you want help?" He shook his head and tried to stand up with his brother's help.

"You sure?"


Dean reluctantly left his brother alone, cracking the door and telling him to yell if anything goes wrong.

Dean sighed as he checked out the room. He could tell where Sam had tried to reach the phone. There was blood on the floor and the cell, itself, but what worried him the most was the amount of blood coating the sheets.

He wasted no time, stripping off the layers of the bed and stuffing them in the closet.

When he heard the shower stop, he grabbed one of his old Zeppelin shirts and set it right inside the bathroom door.

By the time Sam came out, Dean had scrubbed off the phone and as much of the blood as he could. Didn't want Sam to see all the blood.

"Dean?" He looked up to see Sam leaning in the doorway.

"Hey..." Dean rushed over and grabbed Sam's arm, surprised when he didn't say a word. That kid was really sick.

He led the younger hunter to the bed.

"Sammy, I'll be right back."

Dean grabbed the glass of water and painkillers to put next to Sam's bed for later.

"Sa-" Dean stopped and smiled slightly. Sam was already asleep on top of the clean bed.

Setting the pills and water down on the nightstand, Dean went to the end of the bed.

Knowing Sam wouldn't let him do this in a million years, he took his brother's shoes off and pulled the covers up over his sleeping brother.

"Night, Sammy." He ruffled his brother's hair before sitting down on the other mattress.

That wasn't an average nosebleed. Without a doubt, migraines and nosebleeds like this must have to do with the yellow eyed demon.

Dean glanced over at Sam. He always looked more innocent and peaceful when he was asleep.

What Dad said to him... About Sam being evil. It made him think. How could this Sam turn into a "monster?" And if he... did... who would stop him if the only person who knew the truth about Sam's destiny was the one who had refused to let it happen?