Title: Fall to Pieces

Author: Disasteriffic Kaz

Info: Written for OhSam Triple Play Comment Fic- Searching for salvage at the ruins of Bobby's house, Sam finds the panic room the hard way. Post 7x02 "Hello Cruel World" hurt!Sam awesome!Bobby/Jody

Author's Note: I didn't tack this on the end of the first chapter because it was a prompt fill that didn't call for Dean's involvement. LOL But I knew I'd be coming back to add it in later so here you are! A little short of course but Dean...caring for Sam. Dawwwww. :P

Beta'd by the Always Awesome JaniceC678 - Friend and Muse's co-conspirator

**Follow me on Facebook as "Disasteriffic Kaz" for frequent fic updates or just to chat!
~Reviews are Love~


Bobby chuckled and untied the rope from under Sam's arms. "Stay put, Sam." He patted Sam's shoulder and then just held on for a minute, a little weak-kneed with relief to have him out and alright…more or less.

"I'm really ok, Bobby," Sam said softly and gripped his wrist as he smiled. "Better…better get Jody out before she hurts you."

"Good idea." Bobby snorted and turned to slap the winch back on and toss the unspooling rope back down. "Don't get yer panties in a knot, Sheriff."

"Bobby Singer, by the time I get done with you, Dean won't have to bury your grumpy old ass!" Jody yelled and jumped to grab the rope as it lowered down to her. She grinned up when he leaned over to look at her.

Sam listened to them bicker warmly with each other and thought, it'd be nice if Bobby ever got his head out of his ass long enough to realize he liked her. He smirked, adjusting his arm over his side and then froze like a deer in headlights as he looked up and saw Lucifer smiling at him from the other side of the hole. Sam slammed his eyes closed and pressed his elbow painfully into his side. The pain drove through him in a hot wave and when he opened his eyes again, the devil was gone. He let out a long, stuttered breath. "I'm out," he whispered to himself. "No more falling."

Chapter 2

Sam sat in the cab of Bobby's truck and tried not to groan out his pain each time they went over a bump in the road. Jody had left them at the salvage yard to head back to town and, Sam thought with a smirk, to avoid the diatribe no doubt coming from his brother. He closed his eyes as they banged over yet another pothole. At least this time he knew it wouldn't be aimed at him, though he'd do his best to get Bobby off the hook.

"Almost there, son," Bobby said softly, glancing over at Sam's pale face and blood-stained shirts in the light from the dash.

Sam rolled his eyes and then thought better of it when pain crashed through his head. "Stop…stop staring, Bobby. I'm ok."

"Uh huh," Bobby watched Sam's eyes slam closed and his head roll back onto the seat. "I can see that. Any chance you look less like a bar fight loser before we pull up?"

"Nope," Sam said with a soft snort of laughter. "Just…just try to duck or something until he calms down."

"Easy for you to say." Bobby rolled his eyes and parked in front of the cabin. He took a deep breath and got out. "Here we go."

Dean heard Bobby's truck rumble up outside and let out a long, tense breath he felt like he'd been holding since they'd left. He'd enjoyed the peace and quiet when they'd left for about ten whole minutes before concern for his little brother had kicked back in. He still woke up to nightmares of lying helpless beside Sam in the salvage yard and watching him seize, and those were bad enough; but the ones that truly left the bitter taste of fear in his mouth were when he dreamt of Sam in that warehouse. Dean knew how close Sam had come to eating his own gun that night, and it was terrifying. He knew with absolute certainty, if he'd arrived just a few minutes later, he'd have been kneeling over his brother's lifeless body rather than trying to talk him off the ledge, and he was pretty certain they both were out of get-out-of-death-free cards .

He listened to the rumble of Bobby's voice as they came up the steps and frowned because it sounded like…like he was working too hard to keep his voice down and sound calm, and that only happened when someone was hurt.

Dean levered himself up off the couch, swinging his casted leg to the floor and was standing when the door opened. His eyes blew wide in shock when Bobby came in with Sam pasted to his side. "What the hell happened?" Dean demanded loudly as he took in his clearly wounded little brother and the frightening amount of blood he could see, not to mention Sam's slightly glazed eyes that rose up to meet his.

"Not Bobby's fault." Sam told Dean quickly.

Dean continued to stare and the shock finally wore off when he realized what was about to happen. He knew his brother too well. "Bobby, sit him down quick. Here. Come on." He moved so there was room for Sam to get to the couch. "He's gonna pass out!"

"Balls," Bobby groaned. He gave Sam a shove toward the couch and grunted as all of the boy's considerable weight suddenly hung from his shoulder as his legs went out. "How'd you know?" Dean gave him a disgusted face and took hold of Sam's left arm, helping to lower him to the couch. "Right. Right." Bobby rolled his eyes fondly. "Kid can't sneeze without you knowin' about it first. He's fine, Dean."

"He doesn't look fine." Dean growled and sat next to his brother on his left. "'Fine' does not usually include three layers of shirts soaked with blood. What happened?"

"Back of his head's bleedin' too." Bobby informed him and ducked into the kitchen for the first aid kit. "He found the panic room."

Dean scowled over the back of the couch at him. "And?"

"The hard way." Bobby stopped and ran a hand over his face. "He, uh…he fell through the top." He blew out a shaky breath. "'Bout scared me to death when he just disappeared 'til I realized what had happened."

Dean had to swallow around the lump in his throat as he gently turned Sam's head away from him to get a look at the back of it. He appeared calm on the outside, but inside, his mind was screaming with the memory of Sam falling into a dark hole in the ground…into the Cage. He didn't need to have been there to imagine what it had looked like when his brother had fallen again and it made his hands shake. If he lived to be ninety, he would still remember the gut-wrenching, debilitating sense of loss that had come with watching…letting…Sam fall into that hole.

"He, uh…he freaked out a little when he woke up," Bobby said quietly and sat on the coffee table, spreading out the first-aid kit. "Pretty sure he's got himself a bit of a phobia for that room."

"Gee, Bobby. Ya' think?" Dean said angrily and then took a breath to calm himself. "Sorry. Gimme something to clean this blood so I can see."

Bobby handed him a wet towel and leaned in to pull Sam's shirts up while Dean worked at the back of his head. "Jody sat with him 'til I could get him out. Kept him from crackin' up too bad down there." He grimaced again as he looked at the long, angry scrape up Sam's left side. "Dean, I'm sorry. I should have been watchin'."

Dean nodded but again said nothing, not trusting himself just then. It wasn't Bobby he was angry with; it was himself. He should have been there, busted leg or not, or he just shouldn't have damn well let Sam go in the first place. Sam's head was still bruised from the hard knock he'd taken from the leviathan, and it stared at Dean like an accusation of failure. "This is…it's not too bad," he said softly as he cleared enough blood away and pulled Sam's hair to the side to get a good look at the cut. "Won't even need stitches." He pressed the towel into the cut on the back of his head and rolled it so Sam's head held the towel in place on the back of the couch. Dean turned his attention down to his brother's chest and hissed out a breath. "Shit."

"Think he scraped past part of the ceiling fan on his way down." Bobby picked up the antiseptic and wasn't surprised when Dean pulled it out of his hands. "It's what he landed on anyway. He's lucky. If he'd landed badly, could'a broke his damn back."

Dean snorted. "Lucky. Yeah, right." He looked up at Sam's lax face and figured he'd have an armful of confused brother in a second. He tipped the antiseptic over the bloody wound and sure enough, Sam jerked awake with a shout. "Take it easy. Hang on!" Dean gave the bottle to Bobby and grabbed Sam's shoulders, stopping his tumble off the couch to the floor.

"Shit!" Sam gasped and groaned when he tried to curl over his side but was stopped by Dean's hands on his shoulders.

"Easy, buddy." Dean pushed him to lay back against the couch and held on until Sam's eyes rose up to meet his. He needed to know that Sam was actually with him and not lost in his head somewhere. "Sammy?"

Sam nodded and closed his eyes. "Sorry. Yeah. I'm ok." He moaned softly and reached for his head, only to have his hand knocked away.

"Yeah, found that. Don't play with it." Dean told him firmly and took the antiseptic bottle back. "We got enough bandages to cover this Bobby?"

"Should have." Bobby nodded and worked to hide the smile. It warmed his heart to see Dean caring for his brother and to see Sam…well, aware of it. "Probably oughta shower first."

"Yeah. Who knows what he picked up down there? Dean smirked at Bobby and looked at Sam. "You think you can stand up long enough to shower before I patch this up?"

Sam looked down at the long, open wound and groaned. "M'good here." He didn't want to get in the shower and add the all-too-familiar agony of warm water running over the wounds. His head was swimming and pounding from the knock he'd taken, and he wondered if some of it was left over from the earlier head injury. He startled and snapped his eyes open when he felt a hand on his face and found Dean staring at him from inches away.

"Not fillin' me with confidence here, Sammy," Dean told him soberly. Sam had seemed to drift off with no warning and his eyes looked a little glazed again. "Yeah, ok. Shower later." He looked over at Bobby with a smirk. "Unless you wanna take him in and hold him up."

"Wise-ass," Bobby growled affectionately and held out a bandage to him. "How's your leg feelin'?"

"Better than his head, apparently." Dean groused and started the job of covering the long wounds on his brother's side while Sam sat disturbingly still through all of it. Dean flicked his eyes up to Sam's face as he worked and didn't like that he was getting paler by the minute. "Bobby."

"On it." Bobby didn't need to be told as he rose and went quickly to the kitchen to hunt down the medication they'd swiped for Sam after their hospital escape. A doctor friend of Bobby's had told them what to get to help with Sam's pain without making the injury itself worse.

"Almost done, Sam." Dean told his brother though he wasn't sure Sam was even registering much at that point. He taped the last bandage in place and then turned, sitting a little awkwardly so he could pull Sam up against his shoulder. "Help me get his jacket and these shirts off?"

"Mmm," Sam groaned softly into Dean's neck and tried to say he could do it himself but his mouth didn't seem to want to form the words.

"Balls," Bobby said with feeling. He leaned over the back of the couch and carefully pulled Sam's jacket down his unresisting arms and off. "Little too quiet."

"Yeah, I know," Dean said worriedly. He propped Sam's left arm up over his shoulder while Bobby grabbed the other and together they worked his shirts off in one, blood-stiffening mass. Dean eased him back to the couch again and sighed. "Sammy?" He rolled his brother's face toward him and waited for hazel to blink sluggishly open. "Gotta take your meds, dude, ok?"

Bobby handed Dean a bottle of water and then the two pills. "He was more alert in the truck, Dean."

Dean shook his head. "Think he just ran out of gas with the pain. Sam? Open up. You remember this."

Sam frowned and opened his mouth with vague memories of many other times recently Dean had seemed to be coaching him to open his mouth and swallow pills. It irritated him, but they always made the pain go away and he couldn't remember just at that moment why his head hurt so much. "D'n?"

"Right here, buddy." Dean popped the pills into his mouth and tipped the water in after them, relieved when Sam swallowed reflexively. He set the bottle aside and settled down next to him.

"I'll get him to bed." Bobby said but Dean waved him off.

"He's fine here right now. Wanna keep an eye on him." Dean didn't want Sam out of his sight again until he was sure he was going to be alright and not have another seizure. He wasn't sure his nerves could survive that again. "I'll watch him here."

"Dean, he oughta lay down."

"He's fine here, Bobby," Dean repeated in a tone that clearly conveyed this was the end of the discussion. He reached down and propped his cast up on the coffee table. He smirked and rolled his eyes when Sam leaned into him sleepily until his head was on Dean's shoulder. "Friggin' princess." Dean muttered but made no effort to push him off. Given what had happened earlier and the nightmares Sam was no doubt going to be having all over again, Dean couldn't deny him the comfort if he wanted it.

"You girls gonna be alright if I go take a shower?" Bobby smirked down at the dirty look Dean gave him.

"Shut up. We're fine."

Bobby nodded and walked away into the back of the cabin before Dean could see the fond smile on his face and start hurling insults.

Dean's face flushed a little, but he moved his arm over Sam's shoulders and turned so he was propped in the corner of the couch with Sam against his chest. It felt like they were kids again, and he took a small measure of comfort for himself out of it for once, having Sam warm and alive and there…more or less… and if Bobby or Sam decided to try and call him on cuddling later, he'd just blame his broken leg on his inability to get out from under the damn sasquatch. He tightened his arm over Sam's shoulders when he started to shift restlessly, smiling when Sam stilled instantly and relaxed.

"No more falling into dark holes I can't get you out of, Sammy," Dean said softly to the top of his brother's head and leaned his own back on the couch, finally, in relief. "No more falling."


The End…really. :P