Title: Reader's Special: Second Edition - One Shot Reward Fic Collection

Author: Disasteriffic Kaz

Info: A collection of 1 Shot Reward Fics for Prompters of my Reader's Special: Third Edition. Features many seasons, hurt/limp/awesome/caring!Sam/Dean/John/Bobby See each chapter for specific info for each 1 shot reward fic.

Author's Note: The Reader's Special: Third Edition was a smashing success! Prompters of the story were offered a One Shot Reward story of their choice. These are they. None of the chapters contained in this collection are connected. Each one is a stand-alone one shot per the Prompters request. Thank you to all of you who prompted the Reader's Special! You were fantastic as always!

Chapter Info: For KKBELVIS - I'd love a snake bite Sammy story...where they are in the woods away from the Impala and Dean has to get Sam out of there on foot somehow and Sam of course is in a bad way...having a bad reaction... Shame on me but I have to mention my kink...I love Sammy not being able to breathe during his bad reaction to the snake bite...tee-hee...

A/N: Seems fitting somehow to end on a healthy dose of hurt/limp!Sammy and awesome/caring!Dean LOL Set somewhere in season 1

Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P


"Ok." Dean brushed mud off his chest with irritated swipes. "You know what I want your geek brain researching from now on? Figure out how to get rid of wendigos permanently."

Sam chuckled and wiped more mud from his hair. "Yeah, I'll get right on that." The creature had tossed them both into a mud hole before they'd killed it, and it was going to be one long, miserable walk back to the car with Dean in a foul mood. His cell phone hadn't survived its mud dunking; neither had Dean's and that little gem on top of everything else served to set Dean fuming.

"I HATE nature!" Dean shouted up into the trees. "Stop laughing before I hit you!"

Sam did his best to smother it and nodded. "Sorry."

Dean hopped a log and then looked back to find Sam sitting on it. "What? I seriously need to be clean, dude."

"My shoes are filled with this crap." Sam smirked at him and pulled off his left sneaker. He banged it on the log and clumps of mud fell out with a wet splat. "You can squish for an hour back to the car."

Dean ran both hands through his hair and threw the mud that came loose at his brother. "Catch that for me."

"Jerk!" Sam ducked his head with a laugh and pulled his other shoe off. "Shit!" He yelled and leaped off the log, stumbling and came up grabbing Dean's arm.

"Dude, what the hell?" Dean stared at him in confusion.

"Something bit me!" Sam pointed toward the log and then froze as they both heard the distinct sound of something rattling.

"Son of a bitch." Dean pulled his gun and looked under the log while he swallowed on a sudden stab of concern as he saw the small, angry snake beneath the log. "It's a rattlesnake. Juvenile. Dammit." He stepped clear and grabbed his brother, pulling him further away. "How bad did it get you?"

Sam shook his head and let Dean lead him a few yards away. "I dunno."

"Sit." Dean shoved him down against a tree and took out a flashlight. He shone on it Sam's foot and found a single, bleeding puncture just above his ankle. Relief made him smile. "Looks like it just caught a piece of you. Alright." Their father and Bobby had made sure they knew what they were doing in the woods, considering the number of hunts that took them into the wilderness. A rattlesnake bite wasn't anything to laugh off but he took comfort that it had been a juvenile and hadn't gotten a full dose of venom in him. If they were lucky, the worst Sam would have to deal with was a sore leg. He looked over at him and smirked. "I'm not sucking snake spit outta your leg, dude."

Sam laughed. "Lucky for you that's an old wives tale or I'd make you."

"You and what army?" Dean snorted and bent back to the wound.

Sam felt around the ground near him and came up with a couple sturdy branches. "Here. These should work." He knew as well as his brother that the best thing to do was splint his lower leg and try not to move too much until they could get to a hospital. "Man, all those times Bobby dragged us camping as kids and I never got tagged. Not once."

Dean chuckled and took the branches, breaking them to the length he needed. "Guess your luck had to run out eventually." He pulled his pack around and rooted through it until he came up with the twine and set about splinting Sam's leg to keep it as still as possible. "Alright, stumpy. Let's go. How's it feel?"

Sam let Dean pull him up and shrugged. "Ankle feels weird…kinda like it's burning, but I'm good."

"You let me do most of the work." Dean pulled Sam's arm over his shoulders and got them moving. He smirked. "Not like you don't do that anyway."

"Shut up. I carry my weight." Sam scowled at him and then chuckled. "Well, not at the moment. Hey! Don't forget my shoe!"

Dean rolled his eyes and stopped. "Lean on that." He pushed him to a tree and got his flashlight back out. The rattler was still under the log and Dean skirted carefully around the snake until he could snatch his brother's sneaker from where it had fallen. He went back and found Sam staring at the ground as if in concentration. "Hey. You good?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah." He looked up and put his arm back over Dean's shoulders. "Don't think I like being snake bit." He let Dean ramble on about how they were never camping or hiking again, how next time they were just going to napalm the damn forest to get the wendigo and focused on his leg. It wasn't just his ankle that burned now, the sensation was slowly moving up his leg to his knee, and it hurt…a lot, more with each passing step. "Shit. Dean…wait. Stop."

"What is it? The bite?" Dean stopped and held on to Sam when he swayed.

"Ok…that hurts. Keep going." Sam didn't let Dean stop. There was no point in taking a break. He needed a hospital and anti-venom.

Looking at Sam's pale face, Dean picked up the pace as well as he could while trying to keep his brother's left leg as still as possible. The fear had returned with each pained hiss and grunt, because a glancing bite from a snake that small shouldn't be affecting him like it was. He'd been bitten a couple times and he remembered how it had felt, and this, as Sam staggered and suddenly gripped on to his chest as he gasped…this shouldn't be happening.

"Dean." Sam stopped as the pain in his leg hit an unbearable level and made his head swim and the breath clog in his chest.

"Ok, easy." Dean eased him down to sit against a tree and took his flashlight back out. He had to pry Sam's hand from the front of his shirt. "Let me look, Sammy." He knelt and pulled up the mud-crusted leg of Sam's jeans. "Holy shit." Sam's leg was swollen from ankle to knee, looking more like the stump of some tree than a human leg. He pressed his fingers gently into the flesh and it felt like stone it was so hard and unyielding. "Ok, not good."

"How…how bad?" Sam let his head drop back against the tree and focused on just breathing past the worrying constriction in his chest.

Dean ran a hand through his hair to give himself a minute as he ran through everything they'd been taught. He knew it was the venom swelling his leg, and he knew what he was going to have to do to fix it.

"Fasciotomy," Sam said breathlessly, nodding to himself. "Relieve the pressure. I remember."

"'course you do," Dean said ruefully and smiled at him, but it quickly faded as he took out his knife and dropped the bag, searching through it until he found the small first aid kit and the little bottle of alcohol inside. "This is gonna suck, dude."

Sam nodded. He knew. Dean would have to open up his leg to release the pressure or he'd risk losing it. "Just…just do it. I'm good."

Dean tugged the sheath for the small knife from the back of his jeans and handed it to him. "Bite down on that." He bent over Sam's leg and pulled the pant leg down again. "Get you a new pair," he muttered and then sliced up the denim to just above his knee. Dean cut the fabric loose and set it aside; he'd need it when he was done.

Sam nodded when he saw Dean glance up at him and put the leather sheath between his teeth. He took a breath to try and steel himself and closed his eyes.

Dean really didn't want to do it as he poured alcohol over the blade and then liberally over his brother's leg. Never mind the pain he was going to cause him - an open wound in the damn forest was never a good idea. "Ok. Here we go." He braced a hand above Sam's knee and pressed the point of the blade below it. "Try to stay still." Dean closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath, hating what he was about to do. His job was, and always had been to protect Sam from pain, not cause him more. The fact that it was necessary did not make it any easier for him to do what he knew he had to. He clenched his teeth and quickly made a neat incision.

Sam twitched as the knife broke the skin and his labored breathing turned into a guttural scream as he felt it slice down his leg toward his ankle. He fisted a hand in the shoulder of Dean's jacket and howled around the leather, unable to stop it, while the pain seemed to build and build, and only the soft murmur of Dean's voice trying to comfort him gave him anything to hold on to.

"Easy, Sammy. Almost. Keep breathin'." Dean grimaced as blood flowed quickly, like it had been eager for a way to escape, and Sam's leg trembled under his hand. He pushed harder on his knee to keep him still and dragged the knife down to just above his ankle then set it aside. "Alright. Done. All done." Dean leaned up and pulled the sheath out of Sam's mouth. "Take a breath, dude. Worst part's over."

Sam couldn't stop gasping. His chest felt too tight to get a good breath, but he tried for Dean. "I'm…ok." Yet, even as he said it, he felt his head tipping and his body sliding sideways as his vision narrowed down to a long tunnel and Dean's worried voice.

"Sam? Sammy? Shit!" Dean caught him as his brother slid sideways and propped him back up. He tapped the side of his face. "No passin' out on me, man. Come on." He smiled with relief when Sam's eyes fluttered open again and grimaced at the smears of Sam's own blood he left on his cheek. Dean wiped his hand on his jeans and squeezed his brother's neck. "That's it, buddy."

Sam nodded weakly. "Kay."

Dean figured that was the best he was going to get and gave his neck another comforting squeeze before he went back to his leg. He used the last of the alcohol to wash out the cut he'd made, and let Sam bruise his fingers into his shoulder while he did. "Just gonna bandage this up now." He was talking more for his own benefit than Sam's really, needing to hear his voice over the sound of Sam's labored breaths and knowing he was the cause.

Sam knew he had to be hurting Dean with the grip he had on his shoulder, but he couldn't make himself let go. It wasn't the pain in his leg scaring the crap out of him now; it was the fact he just couldn't catch his breath. "Dea…Dean." He gasped it weakly and tightened his fingers. "C-can't…breathe."

Dean tied off the loose bandage he'd made with Sam's pant leg and narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean you can't breathe?"

Sam shook his head, clenching his fingers on Dean's shoulders as dizziness took what little breath he had. "Chest…s'tight."

"Shit!" Dean stared for a moment and then swallowed back the fear. "Ok. It's gonna be fine, dude. You hear me? Just keep breathing." He quickly re-splinted Sam's leg, packed everything back in the bag and shouldered it before he turned and pried Sam's hand from his shoulder. "I'm gonna carry you. Don't argue with me." He ignored the shake of Sam's head. "You're having a damn allergic reaction or something, Sam. Walkin's just gonna make it worse so shut up already."

Sam wanted to argue, wanted to say he could walk himself as long as Dean helped, but the fact he couldn't even fight him off when Dean grunted, groaned, and pulled him over his shoulders in a fireman's carry told him Dean was right.

"Son of a…gotta stop feedin' you." Dean groaned under the weight and started off in as fast a walk as he could manage. Sam wheezed in his ear, spurring him to move faster along with the death-grip his little brother had in his jacket, like Dean was his lifeline and Sam was afraid to let go. "Keep breathing, Sammy. That's all you gotta do."

Dean lost track of time, all his attention focused on staying on his feet and the increasingly labored breathing of his little brother over his shoulders. Part of him said to stop and give Sam a rest while all his training screamed that a hospital was his only hope and to keep moving. He briefly considered crying with relief when the Impala finally came into view through the trees. It gave him a last burst of energy that quickly fled once they reached the car and he slid Sam down to lean against the car.

"How you doin', Sammy?" Dean asked, breathless with exertion as he supported him against the car and got the passenger door open. It drove adrenaline through him when all Sam gave was a short nod. He was somehow both pale and flushed and there was a disturbing blue tint starting to show on his lips. "Alright. It's ok. Here." He eased Sam down into the seat and closed the door then ran around to the driver's side and slid behind the wheel.

"Twenty minutes to the nearest hospital. You can do that." Dean assured him as he sped down the country road. "Sammy?" He watched with his heart twisting in his chest as his brother slowly slid over toward him with short, weak panting breaths.

"S…sor…sorry…Dean." Sam's voice was a bare whisper, catching in his chest. He couldn't get enough air and he really tried to stay conscious but he just didn't have anything left.

"No, no, no!" Dean grabbed him and let him rest against his shoulder. "Don't you quit on me, Sam! Don't you dare! Keep breathing!" He flattened his hand over his brother's chest and floored it as he felt Sam's chest rising and falling in ever more shallow movements.

He drove recklessly and didn't give a damn if he picked up a cop or not. Thankfully, Dean squealed the Impala into the hospital unnoticed by law enforcement and stopped practically in the doors to the emergency room. He was around the car without remembering opening his door and pulled his brother up and over his shoulder. Sam had lost his battle with breathing barely a minute before he stopped the car. Dean wasn't sure how his own heart had managed to keep beating through the terror of that sudden, horribly silent stillness.

"HELP!" Dean bellowed it as the doors slid open. Whether it was his tone of voice or the frantic, desperate plea on his face, the nurses lurched into motion and had Sam off his shoulder and on a gurney being wheeled away before his shout had died. He answered the questions fired at him in a daze, never taking his eyes from Sam. He winced when they shoved a tube down Sam's throat and groaned when they unwrapped his leg and he saw his handiwork that had looked careful enough by flashlight but under the fluorescent lights seemed to mock him as having been done by a blind man.

Dean snarled at the orderlies who tried to make him leave and earned a spot at the back of the room. There was no way in hell he was leaving his brother. He didn't know how long it was until the furor died down, the army of medical staff thinned and finally it was just them, a nurse at Sam's side and a weary doctor smiling up at him.

"Mr. Bonham, you did everything right." The doctor said and put a hand on the man's arm. His presence had been like an accusation in the room that he had better not fail in saving his brother. It had spurred them all on, he thought. "Sam's going to be fine."

"He's still in pain." Dean observed, seeing the twitches in Sam's arms and legs.

"That's the anti-venom. It's normal. The next twelve hours aren't going to be fun for him, but he will come through." He nodded and watched the same relief he felt slide onto the younger man's face. "The fasciotomy you performed saved his leg and his life. It's rare to find someone with an allergy to rattler venom. Bleeding the pressure off lessened the venom in his system."

"He's gonna be alright?" Dean needed to hear it again. "He's still on a ventilator." They had yet to remove the offending tube from Sam's throat.

"We just need to get his saturation levels back up. You're sure it was less than a minute when you brought him in that he'd stopped breathing?" He smiled when Dean nodded. "That's good. Very little likelihood of brain damage. You can sit with him. In fact, I recommend it. He's going to panic when he wakes up and finds the tube in his throat. Keep him calm. I'll be back to check on him in an hour."

"Thanks." Dean was already moving and at his brother's side as the doctor and nurse left the little room. There were no chairs or stools, so he propped a hip on the side of the bed and spread a hand over Sam's chest. Dean closed his eyes and allowed himself to take his first deep breath with his brother, feeling his heart beating beneath his fingers. "Jesus, Sammy," He whispered it and scrubbed his other hand down his face. The fear-fueled adrenaline finally began to seep out of his system and he shook. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

Twenty minutes later, Dean saw the moment Sam started to climb towards consciousness. He doubted anyone else would have noticed, but they hadn't spent a lifetime watching the kid grow up. "Sammy." He slid a hand around the back of his neck, careful of the tubing coming out of his mouth and watched Sam's eyes move under his lids and then flutter open. For a moment, there was only confusion and then panic as he tried to breathe around the tube.

"Hey, hey! Take it easy. Don't fight it!" Dean waited for Sam's eyes to meet his and smiled. "You're ok. You stopped breathing, but they're gonna take the tube out soon, alright? Just nod or something."

Sam nodded and tried not to fight the air being forced in and out of his lungs. He tried to lift his head and groaned when he didn't have the strength. Instead, he looked up into Dean's eyes, trying to get across what he needed to know.

Dean snorted. "Don't worry. You still got both flamingo legs." He smiled and patted Sam's chest as he watched the relief flow across his face. He saw Sam's eyes squeeze shut as his body trembled and sighed. "Doc says that's the anti-venom workin' through you. It'll pass."

Sam managed to get a hand up and bumped it into his brother's chest where he fisted his fingers in his shirt. He'd honestly thought he was going to die in the car. Even Dean's voice shouting at him to hang on and keep breathing hadn't been enough to drive the air into his lungs, and he'd passed out with the sure knowledge he was never going to wake up again. He still felt the remnant of that terror with the tube down his throat and the expression on Dean's face that was eloquent of just how close he'd come.

"Take it easy, ya big girl. You're fine." Dean rolled his eyes because it was obvious what Sam was thinking. "Like I'd let you kick the bucket on my dime. Get a grip. Dad would kill me, and not quick either. I plan on goin' out in style." He smirked. "Preferably on top of a red head." He chuckled when Sam rolled his eyes. He kept up his one sided conversation until the doctor came back. Dean stayed where he was when Sam refused to let go his hold of his shirt while they removed the breathing tube and gave the nurse a dirty look for her brief attempt to pull him away.

Dean lifted his brother's head up while the doctor gave him a cup and a straw and kept a hand on his chest while he coughed in the aftermath of the tube being gone. "Better?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah." He scowled at how hoarse and weak his voice sounded. He listened to the doctor and sighed in relief when he left after promising to get Sam in a room soon. He looked up at his big brother and smiled because Dean may be a pain in the ass and drive him to screaming some days, but then there were moments like this when he sat there and pretended he didn't know Sam still had a hold of his shirt and made sure he didn't wake up alone with a tube in his throat. "Dean…thanks."

"Whatever. Eat your ice chips, princess." Dean gave him his best sneer, but he still didn't pull Sam's hand loose from his shirt. He'd been through hell, or close enough, if he still needed to hold on to him, Dean wasn't going to stop him. "Get some sleep. I'll bust you outta here tomorrow once they're done pumpin' you full of anti-venom."

Sam nodded, smiled and closed his eyes. "Jerk."

Dean laughed and thumped his hand on his chest once and finally relaxed. "Bitch."


The End.

Thank you to all the prompters who helped to make the Third Edition of the Reader's Special so much fun and to all of you faithfully reviewing each chapter...I love you. :D

Thank you all and stay tuned for a new story in the next few days. I have a backlog of ideas to play with now. Lol