Title: Blood Song

Author: Wincesteriffic Kaz

Info: A castle, an island and men's bodies mysteriously drained of blood…what could possibly go wrong? Post 2x05 "Simon Said" Dean/Sam 6th in the "BYC Verse"

Author's Note: Had a lovely week with my family, spent the last couple days after getting home decompressing and gaming with Final Fantasy because…why not? LOL Now back to writing! And Happy New Year to all my wonderful readers, wherever you may be! *huggles*

Graphic depictions within.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

~Reviews are Love~


"Almost! Just hold on, alright?" Dean put his free hand into Sam's hair, cradling the back of his head as his little brother cried out again. The venom oozed from the wounds slower and slower and finally, as it had in his thigh, it stopped with the last few drops rolling away. "Ok. Ok. Breathe, Sam. Breathe for me. Slow down." He dropped the cross to the bed and wrapped both arms around his heaving brother. "Shh. It's over. It's over." He could feel the moisture of tears on Sam's face against his neck, and he buried his own in Sam's neck, breathing him in. "I'm sorry."

Sam tried to catch his breath as the pain left him slowly and nodded. "Thank…thank you."

Dean gave a watery laugh and pressed a kiss to Sam's shoulder. "Like it better when you're screamin' because I made you feel good, dammit."

Sam laughed weakly and loosened his grip on Dean's shirt, moving his hands to hold his big brother instead. "Me too." He let himself settle into Dean's arms, exhausted and sore and let his brother hold him. "Maybe you can wait a bit…on getting rid of the echidna's body. Yeah?"

"I'm not goin' anywhere right now," Dean said softly and gave a shake of his head. He tightened his arms around Sam, weak with relief to have him alive and well, if a little banged up. "Nowhere I gotta be but right here with you."

Chapter 9

Sam woke slowly and smiled, feeling Dean's warm, solid body pressed against his back and his brother's arms holding him tight. He sighed and turned his head on the pillow, smiling when Dean's lips smoothed over his in a gentle kiss. "Hey."

"Hey." Dean leaned back and took a look at him. "How you feelin'?"

Sam rolled slowly to his back, feeling the pull of the wounds twinge in his thigh and shoulder, and smiled. "They ache, but it's really not that bad." He threw a leg over Dean's once he was facing him and hooked his big brother's hips closer to his own. "How long was I asleep?"

"Couple hours," Dean said into Sam's mouth and bit gently at his bottom lip.

Sam nodded and pushed a hand back through Dean's short hair. "So…" He bit along Dean's jaw to behind his ear, enjoying the low groan Dean gave him. "Did you sneak out and take care of the echidna while I was out?" He chuckled when Dean jerked against him in surprise. "Two hours. Of course you went down and finished it off before someone stumbled on the thing."

"Shuddup." Dean grumbled and rolled so Sam was sprawled atop him. He had gone back down to dispose of the echidna's body once Sam had fallen asleep after making damn sure nothing was getting into their suite. He imagined housekeeping was going to have a bitch-fest over the heavy lines of salt poured at every door and window, not to mention the devil's trap drawn on the rug by the door with a sharpie and he smirked. "Dragged her ugly ass into the tunnels and burned it. She reeked, dude."

"Mmm. That's why you smell like soap." Sam mouthed along Dean's throat and ran his hands down his brother's ribs, splaying his fingers to make Dean shiver. "Taste good, too."

Dean put his head back with a happy groan while Sam licked his way down his chest. He tangled his fingers in his brother's hair and tugged until Sam moaned into his skin. "Thought maybe you'd be hungry by…holy crap." Dean's words evaporated with the sensation of Sam's hot mouth biting gently over his swiftly hardening cock through his jeans. "Not…not fair, dude. I was talking."

Sam chuckled and rubbed his cheek over the rough denim as he popped the button on his brother's jeans. "I know." He reached under Dean and roughly pulled them down his hips until his cock was free and licked his lips as he sent a heated look to him. "I enjoy shutting you up."

Dean's brain decided to take the day off with that look in his brother's blue-green eyes, and then Sam sucked Dean into his mouth and rational thought evaporated. He bucked his hips on a pleased shout and gripped hold of Sam's hair. "Shit!"

Sam hummed around his brother's length as he slid him deeper into his mouth and sucked. He wanted to show Dean how much he meant to him, how much he appreciated that he was there to take care of him, even when hurting Sam caused Dean nearly as much pain. He tilted his head and sucked Dean back far enough to bump the back of his throat, loving it when his big brother's hips jumped from the bed and pushed him even deeper, cutting off his air for just a moment. Most of all, Sam loved that no one but him got to see Dean like that - completely taken apart and open. He rolled his own hips down into the bed to give his aching cock some relief because listening to Dean shout his name in that desperate, wrecked voice was nearly enough to make him come all on its own.

"Holy crap," Dean groaned and pulled harder on his brother's hair, trying to get him to come back up so he could kiss him, but Sam was determined and only moaned maddeningly around him. "Sam…gonna make me…Sam!" Dean bucked his hips again with Sam digging his tongue into the head of his cock and biting carefully over the little bundle of nerves just below it. Sam pressed a finger to the spot just behind his balls as he sucked him down deep and that was it. Dean shouted his brother's name, curling up to look at his cock buried to the hilt in his mouth and came.

Sam swallowed again and again with his brother's cock jumping in his mouth and sucked, curving his tongue around him as he slowly came back up until he'd swallowed every last drop. Dean trembled underneath him and his arms dropped boneless to the bed as Sam drew his head off and grinned at him. He crawled up Dean's still shivering body and leaned his head down to kiss him. "Hi."

Dean gave a breathless chuckle and opened his mouth, tangling his tongue with Sam's and tasted himself there with a soft sigh. "Fuck, I love it when you do that." He convinced his arms to move and wrapped them around his little brother, holding him close while he kissed him. He felt the unmistakable weight of Sam's still hard cock against his thigh and smiled into the kiss. "Mmm…my turn." He rolled them over and sat up on his knees. "On your stomach."

"Oh, hell yes," Sam groaned happily and rolled to his stomach, feeling Dean push his legs apart and helped when his brother's hands took hold of his hips to pull his ass up in the air. He laid his head on the pillow and wrapped his arms around it while Dean's hands smoothed over the cheeks of his backside.

"So fuckin' hot, Sammy," Dean said softly, almost reverently as he laid himself down and got comfortable. He blew a warm breath over Sam's entrance and grinned when his brother shivered in reaction.

Sam groaned loudly with the first swipe of Dean's tongue. "Fu-uck." He buried his face in the pillow and took hold of it with his teeth.

Dean spread his brother wide and buried his face between the warm cheeks of Sam's ass. He licked firmly over his hole and then sealed his lips around it as he stabbed his tongue into his brother and earned a louder groan and a body-wide shiver. He loved taking his little brother apart like this, loved watching Sam go to pieces and just revel in the pleasure. He leaned his head back and slid a finger slowly inside Sam.

"Ah…God…Dean!" Sam pushed back into the pressure with a shout when Dean crooked his finger and brushed over his prostate. He was going to come embarrassingly fast if Dean kept that up; he was wound so tightly already from making his brother come…from listening to him and watching him.

"So close, aren't you, baby?" Dean hummed into the small of Sam's back and slipped a second finger into him, groaning when he felt the muscles fluttering. His spent cock gave an interested twitch though even he needed more than a few minutes to recharge. He slipped his other hand around his brother's hip and took hold of his straining cock, smiling when Sam gave a pleased shout and thrust into his hand. "That's it, Sammy. Come on. Come for me."

Sam lost himself in the feel of his brother's fingers pushing in and out of him in a perfect mirror of his cock in Dean's hand squeezing his dick and moving with that little twist on the upstroke that made his eyes cross. "Dean!" Sam shouted his name into the pillow and came in pulse after pulse onto the sheets while Dean kept up his pace, working him into a frenzy until he was shaking and gasping for breath.

Dean grinned, a little breathless himself and eased his fingers out of his brother. He pulled on his hip and rolled Sam to his side, pulling his back in against his chest and kissed his shoulder. "Ok, Sammy?"

"Mmf." Sam groaned and turned his head with his eyes closed for his brother to kiss.

Dean smirked and brushed his lips over Sam's. "Can we get up and go find food now?"

Sam chuckled and rolled to his back, stretching out so his feet hung off the end of the bed. "You can. I'm not movin' yet."

"Bum." Dean slapped his brother's hard stomach lightly with a snort of laughter and rolled off the bed. Much as he wanted to stay wrapped around Sam's warm body, he was starving. "I'll go find something, maybe some pie, and bring it back."

"And food."

"Pie is food."

"No pie is pie. I want food." Sam laughed and flung a pillow at Dean's head.

"Spoilsport," Dean said and went to his bag, pulling out clean clothes. "Don't worry, princess. I'll bring you breakfast in bed."

Sam rolled his eyes fondly and sat up. "I'm gonna take a shower while you're getting food…and pie." He ducked his returning pillow when Dean tossed it and chuckled. Sam flopped back down in the bed when Dean left and closed his eyes. He spent a few minutes savoring the leftover feelings coursing through his body from Dean's attentions and smiled happily. Sleep started to drift back on him and Sam groaned softly before sitting up again and rolled off the bed. He needed a shower.

Sam went into the bathroom and started the shower. He went to the mirror and carefully peeled off the bandages Dean had put in place. The wound on his thigh and the one on the back of his shoulder ached, but it was nothing compared to what he'd felt when Dean cleaned them. "Never hunting an echidna again," he said ruefully, shook his head and went into the shower stall. He pulled the door closed behind him and stuck his head under the steaming spray with a happy moan. Sam leaned in and let it sluice over the back of his head and down his back, soothing muscles still sore from the agony he'd gone through. He could definitely use a few more hours of sleep.

Soap in hand, Sam started washing carefully around the wounds. He smoothed a soap-covered hand down his chest and over his cock with a low moan as he remembered the feel of Dean's hand stroking him while he made him come. He smiled and tried to decide what would be the best way to goad Dean into something a little more…athletic…later. Sam chuckled softly and tilted his head back to let the hot water run down his chest.

He frowned when he felt the start of a headache behind his eyes. Sam put a hand up, pressing the spot between his eyes to try and relieve the pressure. He blinked and saw spots dance before his eyes. He staggered back a step and gasped as the ache became the now too-familiar stab of pain that ricocheted through his skull. "No." Sam groaned and crashed to his knees in the shower. The water sprayed down over his head as he curled over himself and couldn't stop the vision from sweeping him away. "Dean!"

Light flashed through Sam's mind, blinding him as sound assaulted his ears. Soon, even the feel of the water from the shower vanished and his body went cold. The light slowly dimmed and, in a rush, Sam found himself in a new body. He knew he was seeing through someone else's eyes as he had before, and Sam longed to cry out to whoever it was, to try and warn them of whatever horror he would soon witness.

Sam's vision was still fuzzy, and he urged it to clear as the vague shapes around him slowly took shape. In his fear, it took him one, long moment to comprehend what he was seeing and make sense of it, but when he did, he reeled and voiced a wordless shout. Whoever's body he was inside, they were walking the main hall of Singer Castle. He recognized the paintings, the marble and stone, and Sam felt a spurt of hope. If the next victim was there in the castle, he would have a chance of saving them. The man looked down and Sam saw two Styrofoam containers as he turned a corner and pressed the button for the old elevator. Sam frowned and realized there was a piece of pie balanced on the top. The elevator clattered into sight and the man pulled the door open. Sam's frown deepened as he looked at the hand that opened the door. He knew those fingers. The man looked down again as he pulled the door closed and Sam caught just a glimpse of a golden, horned amulet resting on his chest and the fear became outright terror. No, no, no, no, no. Sam chanted it in his head, but it was true as his big brother's face was reflected back to him in the control panel of the elevator. He was seeing through Dean's eyes and there WAS no time because Dean had already left to get the food he was carrying in the vision. Sam fought to free himself from the vision, to wake but was helpless in its grasp.

He felt Dean startle with a thump from above, heard even over the rattling of the elevator. Dean looked up, and Sam felt a fresh wave of terror rise up to choke him. Through the framework of the elevator's roof, he could see a mirror image of Dean knelt there, bent down to peer at the real Dean inside.

"Son of a bitch," Dean's voice breathed through the little car and Sam could hear the instant spurt of fear there, could feel anger begin to rise up through his brother. He wanted to scream at Dean to get out and was dizzy with relief when his brother reached across and slapped the handle, stopping the elevator in its tracks with a shimmy of movement.

Sam could only watch, Dean's horror equaling his own when the mirror image straightened and took hold of the ageing cable attached to the roof of the car.

"Oh, come on." Dean groaned and turned to give the door a shake, but he was between floors and it wouldn't open. Dean looked up again and Sam shouted with anger and helplessness as he heard the cable being snapped and then the elevator was falling. Dean's voice rose up in panic over the sound of screeching metal as the little car fell. There was a tremendous crash, and Sam was thrown out of the vision to find himself back in the shower and sitting in the bottom with the spray now running cold into his face.

Sam sputtered and forced the door open. "No. No, Dean. Oh, God!" Sam scrambled out of the shower and left a trail of water into the bedroom. His head was pounding so hard he thought he'd be sick and wished he could just curl up until the pain eased but there wasn't time. He snatched his jeans from the floor and pulled them on as he ran for the door. Sam dug his phone out of the pocket, uncaring as he ran shirtless and dripping through the hall of the castle for the stairs and dialed his brother.

The phone rang and rang. "Pick up, dammmit. Dean! Pick up the damn phone." Fear made him even more lightheaded than the lingering pain from the vision. Sam slid to a stop outside the elevator. He slapped the button. If he could get on before Dean did, he could stop the whole thing from happening. He dialed Dean again and waited. He heard the elevator rumble to life and sobbed out a breath when his brother answered his phone.

"Hey, Sammy. I'm on my way…"

"Dean, stay off the elevator!" Sam shouted it.

"Whoa! Sam! Take a breath. What's goin' on?" Dean could hear the barely contained fear in his little brother's voice and it unnerved him. "I'm on the elevator now, dude. Gimme two minutes I'll be…" He broke off when he heard a thump above him and looked up. "Son of a bitch."

"Dean? Dean!" Sam banged a fist into the closed elevator door. "No!" He was too late. He couldn't stop it. Sam was near hyperventilating as he turned and broke into a run for the stairs. "Dean, get off the damn elevator!"

"Sam, I can't and there's something…" Dean looked up at the mirror image of himself and remembered what Sam had told him from the vision. "Holy crap." He dropped the food, turned and slapped the handle for the elevator to bring it to a stop. He wrapped his fingers around the door and tried to pull it open. He was between floors and screwed. A snapping sound jerked Dean's head up and his eyes went wide in fear. "No, no, no. Come on!" He shouted angrily and had nothing to do but watch as the image of himself broke clean through the cable supporting the elevator.

"Dean!" Sam heard the sound of grinding, screeching metal through his phone and his ears as he leaped down the stairs four at a time. Dean was falling and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He burst out into the hall at the bottom of the stairs and looked toward the elevator.

"Oh, my God!" Marcus Danesby stood beside the elevator and turned to look at Sam fearfully. "I think…I think the elevator's crashed."

"How do I get down to it?" Sam grabbed hold of the man's jacket and gave him a panicked shake. "How? Dean's in there!"

"Oh, God, no," Marcus breathed in horror. "Here. Here! Come this way!" He pried Sam's fingers from his lapel and ran for the end of the hall. He pulled open a small, arched wooden door and started down the stairs. "This leads to the service shaft for the…Oh my, yes, of course. Go ahead of me." He sputtered as Sam pushed past him and vanished down the stairs. "To your right at the bottom, Sam!"

Sam heard Marcus and ran. He banged into the wall at the bottom and went to his right. Fear for Dean was choking him, stealing his breath as he pounded down the hall and then staggered to a stop in shock. The door of the elevator was blown out into the narrow hall. Twisted metal and chunks of stone protruded from the shaft like the broken ribs of something long dead. "Dean," Sam whispered and moved to the door. He knelt and tried to see inside. "Please don't be dead. Don't be dead. Please, Dean. Dean?" Sam pulled on a piece of metal, moving it aside and leaned in further, stretching an arm out into the wreckage.

"Dean?" Sam felt around inside and sucked in a ragged breath when his hand closed on what he knew was his big brother's shoulder. He slid his fingers until he found Dean's shoulder and curled his hand around his neck gently. Sam could feel the warm slick of blood under his fingers as he searched and finally found the slow beat of Dean's heart in his throat. He dropped his head to the wrecked car with a thump and fought to not pass out with the relief of finding him alive.

"Sam?" Marcus huffed for air as he reached the wreckage and put a hand over his mouth at the scene that greeted him. Sam knelt at the door with one long arm inside and his head drooped as if in supplication. "Sam, is he…"

"He's alive," Sam said in a voice gone hoarse with emotion. "But we have to get him out of here. Please. He's hurt."

"Shush, Sam. It's alright." Marcus bent and rested a hand on the young man's shoulder. Though Sam was easily a foot taller than himself, he looked very much like a frightened child just then as he trembled under Marcus' hand, bereft in nothing but an odd collar, his jeans, bare feet, and still obviously wet from the shower. "I'll get help. You just stay with him. It will be alright, Sam."

Sam kept his hand on Dean's neck. The beat of his heart was the only thing keeping him from collapsing from panic and terror. He needed to hear Dean's voice, to feel his hands. He needed his big brother out of the damn elevator. He tried desperately to pull some of the mangled debris out of the way, and finally gave up when some still rational part of his brain recognized that if he moved the wrong thing, the whole mess could collapse down on his brother. He forced himself to wait for the help Marcus had promised to find. Sam slipped his hand back into the car and pressed his fingers into Dean's throat to feel his heart beating again.

He didn't know how much time had passed, all of his thoughts focused on willing Dean to stay with him and sinking further into despair when the minutes passed with no sound or sign of movement from his brother. Only the sluggish pulse beating beneath his fingertips kept him from breaking down completely. Suddenly there were hands pulling him and Sam fought them. "No. No!"

"Sam!" Marcus realized the young man wasn't entirely cognizant anymore and knelt down. He lifted the Sam's chin with a gentle hand and waited for his angry eyes to meet him. "The men are here to help, to get Dean out, but you have to let them. You have to move. Just for a minute. Sam."

Marcus' calm voice finally broke through, and Sam gave a slow nod. He moved in a daze, letting Marcus pull him away while three men he'd never seen before in overalls converged on the elevator door. Sam didn't fight it when Marcus gave him a gentle push to the ground to sit against the cold stone wall. Sam's eyes never left the elevator.

"Here, now." Marcus shook out the blanket he'd asked one of the men to bring and draped it over Sam's bare shoulders. He tugged it closed over his chest and picked up the towel he'd also asked for. "Dean will be fine. You must have faith, my boy."

Sam nodded numbly and didn't register at first that Marcus was rubbing a towel over his head, drying his still wet hair. He blinked and looked up at the man. "Marcus?"

"There you are. Hello, Sam." Marcus smiled and gave Sam's hair a last brush with the towel before setting it aside. Sam's eyes looked a little more aware than they had a few minutes ago. Marcus knew the signs of shock when he saw them, and wasn't surprised that the young man had escaped into his head for a little while. He squeezed Sam's shoulder under the blanket to offer him comfort and gestured to the elevator. "They'll have him out of there in no time, and we've a doctor staying with us just now. He was out on the river for a bit of a pleasure cruise, but I've called him back. He'll set Dean to rights in quick order, you'll see."

Sam pulled on the blanket, watching the men as they pulled and bent the remains of the elevator out of the way to reach his brother and shuddered. "I can't lose him," he whispered. "Not…not after dad. I can't."

"Hush now. You won't," Marcus said equally as quiet and slid an arm over the boy's shoulders. His heart broke a little with the realization that Sam had lost his father recently and knew he would do whatever it took to make sure his partner emerged from this disaster unscathed. He looked back up when one of the men shouted and squeezed Sam again. "There now! They've reached him! Just you wait, now. Won't be long."

Sam was vibrating with the need to touch his brother again. He wouldn't feel settled with himself until he could hold Dean and know that he was alive. He watched the men as they burst into a flurry of motion and sucked in a breath with his first sight of Dean's spiked hair in the overhead lights. "Dean." Sam lurched to his feet with Marcus' help and would have rushed over if not for the older man's grasp of his arms.

"Let them work, Sam." Marcus pulled and held him back. "You can go to him once they have him out. Patience, son. Another minute." It was a bit like holding back a wild animal in need of its mate, the way Sam vibrated under his hands with barely restrained panic.

Sam watched the men as they slowly, carefully pulled his brother from the wreckage an inch at a time. The lights showed the blood coloring Dean's head and shoulders and the way Dean's arm flopped bonelessly out to wave as they moved him broke Sam's heart a little more. He shook his head and pulled free of Marcus as they laid his brother onto the floor of the hall. "Dean." Sam dropped beside him and leaned over his head, curving a hand through the blood on Dean's jaw. He dropped his forehead to his big brother's and couldn't stop the ragged sob that bubbled up out of him.

"Thank you, lads," Marcus patted the arms of the men who'd helped and sighed sadly. "Albert, another blanket, if you please. And, Jacob, would you be so kind as to bring down the stretcher from the infirmary?" He smiled as the men nodded and jogged away. Marcus knelt beside Sam again and patted his shoulder. "There you are, son. He'll be fine now."

Sam knew Marcus was trying to be comforting, but the only thing he wanted to hear just then were the soft breaths whispering against his cheek from Dean's parted lips. He rested his hand lightly on his brother's throat to feel the rhythm of his heart and finally pulled his head back enough to get a look at him and see how bad the damage was. "Dean?" Sam whispered and turned his head just enough to see the long gash that started above his left eye and ran into his hair above his ear, the culprit responsible for all the blood coating Dean's head and shoulders, and likely why he was still unconscious.

"Doctor Flagg is here, Sam." Marcus patted the young man's shoulder again, touched with the gentle, loving way Sam held his lover's face. "Let him have a look now, alright?"

"That boy's in shock," Dr. Flagg pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled kindly when Sam turned to look up at him.

The doctor was a youngish sort of man with a head of wild, curly blonde hair, red-rimmed glasses, and was wearing a beat up pair of jeans and a Metallica t-shirt. Sam couldn't help the smirk with the thought that Dean would probably like the guy when he woke up.

"Sam is it?" Dr. Flagg knelt and set his heavy black medical bag beside him. "You can stay there if you like. I've got room, but look up for me, hmm?" The doctor put a finger under Sam's jaw and tipped his head up, watching the light move over glazed, blue-green eyes. "Yep. Shock. You'll be alright. Now then, let's just see about your friend, eh?"

Sam was relieved the doctor wasn't going to make him move and kept his hands on Dean's shoulder while the man checked him over. He knew from experience he was in shock, could feel the strange sort of disassociation that always accompanied it, along with the chill that seemed to settle into his bones, but none of that mattered until Dean opened his eyes and looked at him. Until then, Sam didn't give a damn what happened to him. He needed his big brother not to die because he was too slow to save him. "He'll be alright, won't he?"

Doctor Flagg ran his hands carefully down Dean's arms and legs. Satisfied that there were no broken bones, he moved up to his torso and pressed gently, accounting for each rib one at a time. "Nothing broken." He glanced over his shoulder at the remains of the elevator and whistled softly. "It's a damn miracle, considering." Dr. Flagg glanced up and nodded when the men returned. "Over here, quickly now. Let's get this young man off the cold floor, eh?"

Sam finally allowed himself to be pulled up from his brother's side only because they were going to move him, but he kept one of Dean's hands in his own. "He's still unconscious."

"That looks like it was a good knock on the head, Sam." The doctor smiled and shrugged. "He'll wake up when he's ready. Mr. Danesby, when's the ferry come back here? I'd really like to get him to a hospital for x-rays."

"Oh, not until tomorrow, I'm afraid." Marcus wrung his hands together worriedly. "I could call for a helicopter. I believe there's room on the south lawn for one of those to land."

The doctor shook his head and stepped back so the men could lift Dean onto the stretcher and then pick it up. "Naw, tomorrow'll be fine, I think. We'll just have to keep a close eye on him overnight." He looked over and smiled at Sam. "Don't think that's gonna be a problem. It's a good thing that deathtrap of an elevator's so small. If it were bigger, he'd have more room to be knocked around when it fell."

Sam nodded and followed as the men moved with the stretcher. He was loathe to even allow Dean out of his sight now that he knew someone was after him…someone like himself. The guilt gnawed at him as he followed the procession upstairs.

"We're going to the infirmary," Marcus told Sam and kept a light hand at his elbow over the blanket, using the touch to steer him, not that he need have worried. The boy wasn't allowing the stretcher with his brother to move more than a few feet from him. "I'm sure he'll wake soon, my boy."

Sam nodded and swallowed, trying to hold onto that. He took little notice of the interior of the infirmary beyond noting that it had once been some sort of small dining hall that was now outfitted with several beds that looked like they belonged in a hospital, trays of cloth-covered equipment, monitors, and a long row of cabinets against the wall. He looked down in surprise when a glass was pressed into his hand. "What?"

"Drink it, son. Please." Marcus took Sam's hand and folded it around the glass of orange juice.

"Doctor's orders, Sam." Doctor Flagg smiled at him and nodded. "You're in shock. The juice'll help. Drink it and I won't put you in the next bed over, that is, if you get around to stringing more than two words together into a sentence."

Sam stared wide-eyed for a moment and then looked at his brother. "Thanks," he whispered and took the glass, drinking the juice down in long gulps. He handed the glass back to Marcus and took a deep breath. He did feel slightly better, more alert, after drinking it, and he took Dean's hand in his again while Dr. Flagg tugged his brother's shirt up and gave another low whistle. "Oh, God."

"Hey, it's alright." Dr. Flagg quickly assured Sam when the bruising up the left side of Dean's torso was revealed. "Nothin' broken in there. He just got knocked around a little. Don't freak out on me now."

Sam shook himself. "Sorry. No, I'm…I'm alright."

"Hey! Someone get this guy a lollipop. That was almost a whole sentence!" Flagg chuckled.

Sam gave him a disgusted face and then let a soft laugh out. "I am feeling better, thank you." He took the wet rag Marcus held out and brushed it over Dean's face gently, clearing some of the blood away. "I just…seeing…I mean, hearing it fall." Sam shook his head softly.

"Hey, I'd have been worried if you weren't shaken up by that." Flagg pulled Dean's shirt back down and patted his hip. "I'll get some ice for that bruising. You clean his head so I can get a better look at that cut."

"No problem." Sam bent to his task and had Dean's face and neck cleaned by the time the doctor returned. It was oddly comforting that Marcus stayed at his side the whole time, even while Dr. Flagg put a neat row of seven stitches in Dean's head. He arranged the bags of ice over his brother's chest, and finally Dean was as patched up as he was going to get until he woke up.

"I need to go check on some things, son," Marcus said and patted Sam's shoulder. "But I'll be back soon. You stay with him, of course." He smiled up at the young man and then left.

Sam eased a hip onto the side of Dean's bed while the doctor left the room and rested a hand over his brother's heart. "Dean. I…I really need you to wake up now." He ducked his head and then bent, placing his forehead next to his hand on Dean's chest and just breathed in the smell of him. "Please wake up."


To Be Continued…