Chapter 10

LAST CHAPTER :((( Thanks for everyone who read, reviewed, alerted, etc., etc. :)

Dean watched his baby brother's chest bob up and down slowly. That was the only fricken thing that stopped him from screaming and pulling his hair out. Because the only thing he could really think about was the way the son of a bitch touched his brother, the way he saw Sam recoil when the guy caressed his face…like he did when Sammy always felt scared or sick. Now…he didn't know if it would be so comforting for his brother anymore. God! It made him so sick to think about it. He shook his head in disbelief as he slowly walked to the bathroom, grabbing a cloth and soaking it with cold water. Going back into the room, he gently wiped his brother's blood and sweat covered face until it was clean. When he was satisfied, he carelessly tossed the towel on the ground. He took out some bandages, gauze, and disinfectant that he stole and began working on his brother's wrist. Carefully, like he's done so many times for his brother, he wrapped the wound and secured it; then he did the same for the other wrist.

He wiped his face wearily and sniffed as he sat down in the chair next to Sam. He began reach out to brush the long curly bangs out of Sam's face, but he stopped himself, not sure if it was a good idea. Back in the basement, Sam had tensed at his touch. His! If Dean wasn't able to comfort his brother the way he usually did, then he'd didn't know what to do. Comforting his brother calmed him, but… now? It just brought him right back to the basement and it probably would bring Sam back, too. He sighed heavily in frustration. He was about to let the dam break…again. He was all alone, besides Sam, and since his dad was back in the basement cleaning up the mess, he figured it'd be okay to let his mask of strength falter. He did know if he could take it anymore, the only thing keeping him from going off the edge was his brother. Sam needed him right now. He bowed his head, grabbing his brother's hand and began sobbing.

"I'm sorry Sam, I'm sorry I got you in to this mess. I'm sorry the demon kidnapped and hurt you. I'm sorry that he touched you in that way. I'm supposed to be good at this responsible older sibling stuff, I'm supposed to be the strong big brother, but now…I just don't know what the hell anymore." Finally, exhaustion dominated his worn out body and he cried himself to sleep.


Through his hazy mind, he heard- well, he thought he heard- someone moaning. Someone moaning his name in fear and desperation. Sammy?


Dean frowned as his head shot up and immediately looked at his brother's slightly bruised face. It was scrunched up in distress: a nightmare. He looked around and saw that he was still alone. How long did it take to clean up a simple chalk drawing and figure out how to get the unconscious nurse someplace unquestionable? Looking down at his watch he raised his eyebrows; he'd only been asleep for half an hour. Wow.

"P-please stop. Dean, help me," Sam groaned, tears trickling out from under closed eyes.

"Sam, wake up kiddo. It's just a nightmare," Dean whispered, gently squeezing his brother's shoulder.


Dean snapped his hand back, thinking that Sam was talking to him. Aw, Sammy.

"Stop t-touching me, please," the younger Winchester sobbed. "J-just let me go."

Dean's heart pounded in sorrow and anger. Sorrow, because he hated seeing his Sasquatch of a brother so…so scared and little; and anger, because now Sammy was having friggin' nightmares all 'cause of that dick-wad demon. He moved closer to Sam's head, putting a, hopefully, assuring hand on his brother's chest and began talking.

"Sam? Sam, listen to me, listen to my voice, 'kay? I need you to just listen to my voice and wake up. You'll be okay; I'm gonna be right here when you wake up. Nothing bad is gonna happen to ya as long as your awesome big brother is around."

Suddenly, Sam gasped and his eyes flew open. As Dean sat out of the way, Sam shot up, his arms flying wildly around and nearly whacking his older brother in the jaw.

"Sam! Sammy! Easy, Tiger; come on, you're okay. I gotcha, Sammy. No one's gonna hurt you, alright?" Dean coaxed, grabbing Sam's recently dressed wrists.

Finally, Sam stopped and looked around, realizing where he was. Then he found his brother's eyes- his bright, concerned filled green eyes.

"D-De-ean?" Sam said through gasping breaths, struggling to get it under control.

"Yeah, Sam, it's me. You're okay, I'm here."

Without a warning to the older the Winchester, Sam began bursting out into tears, putting his face in his hands. Dean almost starting crying; seeing his brother so broken made his heart ache. Ignoring the fact that this was a going to be classified as a 'chick-flick moment,' he grabbed Sam and wrapped his arms tightly around the kid's back. He brought the trembling kid to his chest, the tears already soaking through the fabric of his shirt, and squeezed him. Sam needed a rock right now, and Dean- since the day their mom died- was that rock.


John tiredly walked down the hall, scrubbing his beard with his calloused hand. He had injected the nurse with a sedative and then inconspicuously brought- or more like dragged- the guy to the nearest supply room. He'd wake up with, hopefully, no recollection of what happened. Now he was on his way to Sam's room, because he knew Dean would be there; there was no doubt. When he got closer, he heard faint crying and soft whispering floating out from the room. He walked slower and quietly crept up to the door for Sam's room.

"You're fine, Sam. I gotcha, I'm right here. No one's gonna hurt you," he heard his eldest son whisper.

He poked his head out from the doorframe and saw a saddening yet heartwarming sight. Dean was holding on to Sam protectively while Sam was trembling in his grip, his arms scrunched in front of his chest, his cheek plastered against his older son's chest and sobbing that racked his entire body. He smiled sadly, proud of his son for being there for Sam; proud that the big brother role never seemed to weaken. John sighed and he turned away, heading back for his room and hearing the sobs fade with distance. Dean needed time alone with his little brother.


The crying, finally, began to cease, only leaving sniffs in its wake. Light tremors ran through Sam's body, and every time they did, Dean could feel it and he would whisper and shush his brother until he felt the tremors lessen. Five minutes later, the tremors stopped, and Sam's body tilted more against Dean's. The older Winchester looked down carefully and saw that Sam had cried himself to sleep. Girl. His tear streaked face was finally looking peaceful and it made Dean relax. He grinned as he shifted Sam carefully and moved himself onto the bed. Sam stirred at the movement, but Dean quickly coaxed him back to sleep.

"Shhh, it's alright, Sammy. I gotcha, just go back to sleep."

Sam seemed to hear him and he instantly silenced again. Leaning against the backboard of the hospital bed, Dean moved Sam's upper body into his lap and began carding his fingers through Sam's curls. Taking a deep breath, he rested his head on the wall and closed his eyes. He was definitely not going to sleep, because that already resulted in all hell breaking loose. It would just be a cat-nap, and if anything happened, he would be up in 2 seconds flat.

"You're gonna be okay, Sam. I'm here for you, kiddo." With that, Dean closed his eyes, still running his hands through his brother's hair.


Sam took a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the smell of disinfectants and some sort of a leathery scent. Shifting a bit, he found it somewhat difficult to do so. Someone was holding him…but who? His heart beat hard against his chest, fearing the worse; he scrunched his nose up in confusion before blinking his eyes open slowly. He saw arms loosely wrapped around his own and he felt a leather fabric- a familiar leather fabric- touching his bare skin. Dean. He craned his neck upwards and what he saw made him grin. Dean was, what Sam thought, sleeping, his mouth slack and, for once, he was snoring softly. He chuckled quietly, opening his mouth to get ready to tease his older brother.

"Don't say a word, kid, if you know what's best for ya," Dean suddenly grumbled, his eyes still shut.

Sam's eyes enlarged in innocence. "What, I wasn't gonna say anything, except…"

"Don't you dare, Sam."

"…this is…"

"I'm warning you."

"…a total chick-flick moment and it ought to go in our book of "chick-flick moments that 'never' happened."

Instantly, Dean gently slapped Sam on the head, but he grinned. Opening his eyes, he looked down at his brother.

"How're ya feelin'?"


"Hmm. Why don't you start over and tell me the truth, huh?"

Sam huffed and gave Dean his best bitch face/ I-hate-you look. "Fine. I'm feeling a little better, but my wrists still sting, my arms hurt like a mother and my stomach and chest are sore."

"Man, that must suck out loud," Dean whispered. He made a move to pat Sam's cheek, but when his skin came in contact with Sam's, the younger boy flinched.

"Hey. You alright? Did…did that son of a bitch touch you anywhere else?"

"N-no, just…it felt weird….it wasn't you. You do it, because…well, you're my big brother, but him…he was…"

"A sick bastard who deserved to go back to hell, probably even worse than that. Don't think about it anymore, okay Sam? He's gone and I won't let him- or anyone- hurt you again."

Sam looked up at his brother and smiled. "Thanks." Sam knew Dean was leaving some things out. Like the part about how stroking his hand through Sam's hair or on his face calmed him and not just Sam. Sam knew that, but he didn't want his big brother to know that he knew.

"Stop chick-flicking, Samantha," Dean warned lightly.

"What?" Sam scoffed. "You get to say that, but when I say it I get a slap on the head?"


"That's not fair," Sam grumbled.

"It totally is. Big brother knows best and big brother is better than little brother, got it?"



Sam lightly elbowed Dean in the gut, and a gush of air came out of Dean's mouth.

"Ow! You're lucky you're injured right now, because when you are all better, I'm gonna kick your ass for that."

"Okay, sure."

"I mean it," Dean said in a lighthearted serious tone.


Sam voice had sounded weaker. Dean frowned and looked back to his brother. His eyes were closed and his breathing was becoming deeper and evening out.

"Go to sleep, Sam."


The kid was already out. Dean rolled his eyes, but closed them as well. He was spent since the beginning of this whole damn mess. Time for some much needed sleep. He tightened his grip on his brother and he drifted off.

Five days later:

"Sam…Sammy. Up and at 'em college boy. Damn, you're a heavy sleeper." Dean was in his brother's hospital room, getting ready to wake up his brother. Well, attempting to anyways. What to do, what to do. How am I gonna wake up little brother? "Sam!" Still nothing. The heart monitor was beeping strongly and Sam chest was moving so Sam wasn't…dead. Dean winced; he still hated the damn word and he nearly choked every time he thought of or heard it. He smiled, though, watching his brother sleep. He'd gotten better during his long stay and now he was able to leave. Good for Dean, because he was bored out of his mind. Dad had left, but not without spending a night with his youngest son while Dean caught up on some rest. Speaking of resting, Sam had slept most of the time, but Dean didn't care. He liked watching Sam sleep. He knew if he said that aloud he'd get strange looks and maybe a 'what the hell, you creeper,' but it made him relax, it made him know Sam was okay. He put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"Come on, Sam, I wanna leave this place in my rearview mirror, let's rise and shine."

"Ugh! Guess it's the hard way then, huh Sammy boy?" Dean walked into the bathroom with an empty cup. He filled it up; making sure the water was cold and he strolled back over to Sam's bed.

"I didn't wanna have to do this, Sammy," he sighed in remorse.

He titled the cup over Sam's head and the ice cold water began pouring onto Sam's hair and forehead. An instant reaction was received as Sam's eyes snapped open and he sat up.

"Dean! What the hell, man?" He shouted, wiping the water from his eyes.

"Sorry, sleeping beauty, it's time to get up. We're leaving in an hour."

Sam groaned as he plopped back onto the pillows. "I hate you."

"I know you do," Dean grinned, tossing a towel to his brother and sitting at the edge of Sam's bed. He looked at Sam, watching his brother wipe the water off his face. He gave a small smile, but hoping Sam wouldn't notice. He did.

As Sam dried of his shaggy hair, he sensed eyes on him. He looked up and caught a smile disappearing from Dean's face.

"What? Why were you looking at me like that?"

"I wasn't looking at you like anything."

"Yeah, Dean, you were and you've been doing that a lot lately."

"It's nothing, Sammy," Dean said standing up and facing away from his brother

"Dean, that's a load of bull. Come on, just tell me, please."

Damn. That was Sam's begging voice. And he knew what came after begging. Don't turn around, Dean, don't turn around. You'll get drawn into his trap.

"Dean, please."

Dean ignored the voice, unable to hear any more of his brother's begging. He instantly regretted it when his eyes locked onto his brother's big puppy dog one. Dammit, he hated when Sam pulled that on him.

Dean sighed in resignation, washing a hand down his face.

"Dammit, Sam," he muttered and went to go sit back down on the bed, but more closer to his brother. "It's just, I don't know, everything. From when it all started to where it all ended. I mean, from the way that bastard demon…touched you to when you were dead. Sammy you died! Doctors said it was a freakin miracle that you're alive right now. Do you understand how much I would've hated myself if you didn't live? Do you know I probably would've drunk myself to death, because of all the guilt weighing down on my chest, so much that I wouldn't be able to breathe?"

Sam sighed. There was still something he hadn't told Dean. "Yes, I do know."

Dean frowned. "Y-you do?"

"I know I died, Dean, because…I saw mom and Jess." Sam chuckled humorlessly. "When I saw them, I…I wanted to stay there so freakin' bad. I was close too, you know, to the light. I was thinking about…"

"About leaving me…you were gonna leave me and dad?" Dean whispered. "Sam, how could-"

"But then mom, she showed me what would happen if I stayed dead. She showed me dad, he pretty much hated you once he found out how I really died. She showed me you; god, it was…horrible. All you would do was drink and hunt and drink and hunt. You ignored dad, told him off actually, and every time Bobby tried to get through to you, you'd yell at him. The-the worst part was…I saw you die, Dean. You'd drink so much, you'd get sick, and pass out too many times to count and then one day…the anniversary of my death…you gave up. You had like ten fricken beers, dude! Then, you downed a couple pills…dry, and I watched you struggle for a breath, y-your face it…it turned blue and you puked your guts out. Then in the end, you went into a seizure, Dean and…that was it. You d-died." Sam took a shuddering breath, wiping the escaped tears off his face with the back of his hand. He didn't dare look at Dean, but he figured his brother was as pale as a ghost. "So, that's what made me fight to live; I knew mom and Jess were always gonna be there…in Heaven, waiting for when the time is right. I knew that I couldn't leave you and dad- especially you," Sam finished off in a whisper.

For two long minutes, the room was silent, Sam keeping his head down and Dean…Dean was just staring at his brother in disbelief.

"My god," he whispered. "Sammy, I…I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Sam nodded, so slightly Dean almost missed it. But his little brother didn't even lift his eyes.

Dean grimaced and sighed. "Sam, come on man, look at me." But he didn't. Dean moved closer and raised Sam's chin up with his finger. Sam's eyes looked to the left, still avoiding eye contact with his brother.

"Sammy, please….look at me."

Finally, Sam slowly lifted his eyes, his brown eyes locking with Dean's green ones. Dean heart broke when he saw his brother's wounded puppy look.

"Shit, Sam," Dean began, placing his slightly shaky hand on Sam's cheek. "You know I would never leave you, right? I promise. But you gotta promise that'll you won't leave me either or that you'll go through hell and high waters to stay alive, okay?"

Sam gave Dean a small smile and nodded. Dean smiled back and ruffled his brother's floppy hair. Then, unexpectedly, Dean grabbed Sam, bringing him to his shoulder, and hugging him tightly.

"Yeah, bitch, I know it's a chick-flick moment. Don't say anything to ruin the moment."

He felt Sam chuckle and he smirked. He didn't care if this was a chick-flick moment. Guys could make fun of him all they wanted, but this was his little baby brother and he was way too close to losing him forever. He wanted to hold on to Sam and never let go, but Sam was a fidgety kid, and he would eventually want to pull away from Dean. So, he broke the embrace and held his brother at arm's length.

"What do ya say we blow this joint, huh?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, this bed is so uncomfortable."

"Stop whining you bitch."


Dean grinned as he patted Sam's back and handed him a bag of street clothes to go change into.

"Hurry up! I saw they were giving away free pie at a store down the street. I want me some pie, Sammy!"

Sam scoffed as he shuffled into the bathroom and shut the door. Dean laughed as he sat down and waited for his brother. Three minutes later, Sam emerged from the bathroom in his usual clothes, eager to leave

"Come on, grandma, I'm starved."

"Yeah, same here; this hospital food is crap," Sam grumbled.

Dean gave a simple smile as they walked out of the room, down the hall, and out of the hospital. Sam smiled, closing his eyes and letting the sun shine on his face on his pale face. He hasn't been outside in a while and he missed the breeze on his skin and the warmth of the sun.

Dean looked at him strangely. "Okay, Snow White, finish up here… Girl," he muttered, shaking his head and walking away.

Sam opened his eyes a glared after his brother. He trotted up to him and playfully shoved his brother.

"What the hell, man!" Dean shouted, but laughing.

What would he do without his Sammy?

Also, what would he do without pie?

The end.

The ending wasn't as good as I wanted it to be, but I hope you like it :) and I hoped you like reading the whole story. Boy, the Winchesters have come a long way since the dare huh? Anyways, thanks for reading and I'm sure another great idea for a story will come up soon. Review!

-McGeeklover :)