Not Invincible

Sam had been sitting silent and not moving in the chair he had pulled up to the side of the bed in Bobby's spare room - the bed his unconscious older brother was laying in - for the past hour and a half.

Bobby had left the two alone after Dean had been patched up, but he returned now to bring Sam up a cup of coffee, knowing the youngest Winchester wasn't going to be sleeping tonight no matter if he tried to get him to. He knew better than that anyway.

They had been staying at Bobby's during their latest hunt, which was only fifteen minutes away. Evidence had suggested it was a black dog. The way the victims' bodies had been ripped apart, chest cavities split open and organs devoured in apparent animal attacks were all tell-tale signs of one. They had dealt with a few before. Silver bullet to the heart would put an end to it.

They had mapped out the area of the five attacks and narrowed in on the dog's hunting grounds. That night they had gone into the woods to find the thing and kill it.

But it hadn't been that simple.

Bobby found Sam sitting in the same hunched position as he had left him. Bobby handed Sam the coffee who accepted it with a barely audible "thanks" and without taking his eyes off of his brother's unconscious form. Bobby studied Sam a moment and inwardly sighed before leaning up against the dresser to Sam's right and taking a sip from his own mug. It wasn't because he felt burdened, that would be the last thing the older hunter could feel towards these two boys that were like his own.

Sam had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and just looking at the kid Bobby knew what he was feeling. The kid blamed himself for Dean's injury.

Knowing the black dog would find them before they found it, and knowing that it regularly went after a lone person, Sam reluctantly suggested that they split up. Not out of eye-shot, but enough to try to draw the creature close enough to get a kill shot with the other not too far away to back him up. Dean agreed, but also reluctantly. Neither ever particularly liked the idea of being separated.

They had spaced out about sixty yards. Only sixty yards between them when the dog attacked. Sam hadn't seen it at first, just heard the guttural growl in the darkness in front of him. Then he saw the eyes - not yellow, but red. Black dogs had yellow eyes, not red.

It lunged suddenly and quickly with a snarl just as Sam brought up his .45. Sam knew it wasn't fast enough and at the last split second he tried to turn to avoid the brunt of the attack. He felt a tearing heat on his upper left arm as his left side was hit and he knew immediately its claws had caught skin. The force of the impact threw him to the other side where he felt his head connect with something hard and rough as he fell.

His gun had been knocked from his grip and he crashed to the ground as he heard a heavy thud somewhere near him. His vision was spinning but quickly fell on the creature a few yards away. It was huge. Bigger than any black dog. Its red eyes glowed with intense malignity and its lips were curled to reveal much longer teeth than a black dog. Its massive body rippled with tension and coarse, mangy black fur stood up as it hunched it's back. The long claws dug anxiously into the dirt.

Definately not a black dog. A Barghest. They were bigger, faster and much more vicious than a black dog. And it wouldn't take just one silver bullet to the heart to kill it, but one in the head as well.

It lowered itself to lunge again when Sam heard his brother shout his name. He sounded closer, had to be to get a shot. The barghest turned its head toward the threat and kicked up earth as it took off towards Dean with deadly intent. Sam looked around hastily for his gun and found it just a few feet away. He grabbed it, heard his brother shoot, then scream.

Dean!

Sam lept up, grasping the pistol tightly and ran for his brother. He could see the barghest almost on top of Dean, see it raise a clawed paw and bring it down across Dean's chest as he tried to turn away. He cried out and Sam yelled out with him.

Once close enough for a shot Sam wasted no time. The thing was too close to Dean to get a clear kill-shot. He had to get its attention. He fired at its hind quarters, the silver bullet punching through its thigh. It howled in rage and turned its full attention to Sam, stepping away from Dean.

Bingo.

Barghests were known for their viciousness, not so much for intelligence. Sam fired five more shots. The first three shots hitting it right it the chest. The barghest dropped and tried to pick itself up and Sam shot again, the last two rounds making their way into its skull. The beast jerked from the impact and twitched before finally fully splaying on the ground with a final rough exhale.

Sam had pretty much dragged Dean back to the Impala and rushed back to Bobby's, the Impala's accelerator mashed to the floor. The slashes across his brother's torso luckily weren't too deep. He suffered really just minor blood loss and shock. But that didn't make what had happened out there much better.

"He'll be alright, Sam. The wounds are superficial. They'll heal up fine," Bobby offered. Sam remained silent, sparing a glance down at the un-drank steaming mug encircled in his hands.

"That's not it, Bobby," Sam said quietly looking back up at Dean. Bobby waited.

"I wasn't there. I should have gotten there sooner," Sam admitted regretfully.

"You saved his life."

Silence stretched for another moment before Sam spoke again, just as soft, still not taking his eyes away from Dean. Although his gaze was further away now.

"I'll never forget seeing Dean hurt for the first time. I was about ten. Dean was fourteen and had started hunting with Dad. It was a routine salt and burn. They had been gone a couple of hours. I had been watching TV. I don't remember what now. Suddenly Dad's banging on the door, yelling for me to open it. When I did-" Sam's voice falters a bit.

"Sam! Sam, open the door now!" Sam startled, heart pounding, and jumped up, running to the door at the sound of his father's voice. He quickly undid the locks and yanked open the door just as his father pushed it in. Sam tried to move out of the way but was half shoved as his father barreled past him, a very limp Dean in his arms.

"He was carrying Dean in his arms."

Sam quickly shut the door and turned as his father moved to the farthest bed and laid Dean on it. That's when he really noticed it - all the red. It covered the side of Dean's face and head, soaked his hair and stained his shirt with bright wet crimson.

"All I could see was the blood. There was so much of it. And all I could think was that Dean wasn't moving. Dad put him on the bed and told me to get the first aid kit,"

Sam couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't process what was going on. He could only stare at his bloodied and lifeless looking big brother. John began grabbing towels from the bathroom and rushed back over to his eldest son. He removed his knife from his pocket, flicked it open, and began to cut away Dean's shirt, exposing his chest. The blood didn't come away with Dean's shirt. Instead, it welled up from a long gash that ran diagonally from Dean's sternum to his right shoulder.

"Dad?" Sam squeaked past the knot in his throat.

"Get me the first aid kit," John said. "Sam!" he said pressing one of the towels to Dean's chest. Sam just stood there, dumbfounded, eyes wide and shimmering.

"But I couldn't move. I just couldn't-" Sam choked, fighting back the tears that were welling in his eyes.

When Sam didn't move John looked up at him. "SAM!" he barked, "NOW!" Sam jumped at the tone and somehow found the ability to move to the corner table and get the first aid kit, handing it to his father as if on autopilot. John ripped it from Sam's hands and began to hastily disinfect the wound on his son's chest and the small gash on his hairline before suturing them.

Wide-eyed with tears silently brimming and spilling over, Sam slowly backed away from the scene until he absently bumped into the wall behind him. He couldn't feel his body, still couldn't move, couldn't breathe. And he couldn't keep his eyes off Dean.

"Later, I watched Dean sleep, and I realized- I realized that Dean wasn't Superman. He wasn't invincible. He could get hurt like anyone else. He could die" Sam's voice faded on the last word. "That's when I made myself a promise,"

The ghost whose remains his dad and Dean had gone to burn had protested. It had thrown John from the dug-up grave and then Dean, who had landed on the shovel spade and cracked his head on a headstone, instantly rendering him unconscious and bleeding. He would be fine in a couple of days, dad said, but still, Sam couldn't get rid of the fear he felt.

His father had finally fallen asleep in the chair in the corner he had propped himself in, overcome by the night's events. His father had thought Sam was asleep on the other bed (he had told Sam he and Dean couldn't share the bed like usual because they had to be careful with Dean's injuries) but he hadn't been. Sam got up and sat on the edge of his brother's bed, looking at his still form.

He looked at the small white bandage taped to the side of his brother's forehead, and the white gauze encircling his otherwise bare chest. Dean had gotten hurt. Bad. Sam had never really thought about Dean getting hurt like that. Sure he had seen him scraped up and bruised from fights with kids who picked on Sam, or from sparring lessons, once even with a broken arm, but it never bothered Dean. If anything he would laugh it off.

'Chicks dig scars, Sammy.'

Sam remembered when he was real little he thought his big brother was like Superman. Nothing could faze him. Nothing could hurt him.

But tonight had been different. There had been a lot of blood. Dean's blood. And his brother had been so still. Sam had never seen him so still. Sam had never gotten hurt because Dean had always watched out for him, protected him. Dean made sure he didn't get hurt. But if Dean could get hurt, he should have someone watching out for him too, and he would. Sam would make sure of it.

He placed a hand on his brother's arm. "You've always looked out for me, Dean," he whispered to his sleeping sibling, "And I'm gonna make sure you don't get hurt too. I'm gonna watch out for you. I promise," the ten year old said solemnly.

"I promised I would watch out for Dean, like he had always watched out for me, because he needed to be protected too."

Bobby had straightened, the mug of coffee forgotten in his hand. He watched Sam with sadness and fondness. He knew that for each brother, it had never gotten any easier to see the other hurt. It never would, even with the frequency that it happened with their life-style. It was just a shame they had to see it at all, especially when they were so young.

He felt a sense of pride in how fiercely both boys protected each other, but there was also a sense of fear with it; Dean wasn't the only one more than willing to sacrifice himself for his family, willing to go to the greatest lengths, and deep down he worried that the brothers' selflessness when it came to one another would be their undoing.

Bobby stepped over to Sam, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You've done good, Sam." He thought a moment. "You both have."

He gave Sam's shoulder a squeeze. Sam finally looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears, and smiled faintly. Bobby offered a small smile back and patted Sam's shoulder before turning to exit the room.

Sam turned back to his brother and placed a hand on his arm. "I promise," he whispered.

A/N: Okay, you guys said you'd like some more to this... I wasn't sure I could do it but I think I'm pretty happy with it. Let me know! =)

(I also have no idea how you would kill a barghest. As far as I know, I just pulled that out of thin air.)