AN/N: Well, this is my first Supernatural fic. For reasons unknown, I've only just started watching the show and I don't know why cuz it is beyond awesome! Plus Dean is Superhot ;D

Anyways, I've only seen season one so this where the story is set. It's kind of AU due to time lines and stuff, but I think it'll work out, so there'll be general spoilers for season one. Also, this is an MPREG story, so if that kinda stuff grosses you out, read no further, cuz I can't be arsed with people flaming and complaining. Plus there is NO insest OR slash. I personally hate pairing siblings (even if they are fictional) so I don't do it. If that's something you were hoping to find here, turn around and walk away. I don't condem those that do, but I don't and I don't ever plan to.

Like I said, I've not seen much of Supernatural, so I'd really appreciate your thoughts and feedback on character personas and stuff- I love to better my writing so please review and tell me how I'm doing =) plus I'll try to make parts of it funny, but I'm usually not brilliant at humor =/ so don't kill me if my jokes are corny

Just a few last notes, Sam's dreams will be in italics and any flashbacks are clearly marked, and I rated 'M' just in case- there's going to be gore in later chapters so I'd rather be safe than sorry.

Hope you enjoy!


Piercing screams filled the air, making Sam's blood turn to ice.

"Dean!" He yelled, desperately trying to locate his brother. "Dean! DEAN!" The only reply was more screaming, riddled with pain and fear.

It was pitch black and he had no idea where he was, so Sam was forced to listen to his brothers tortured cries as they got louder and louder...


Sam woke with a start, his heart racing and his breath tearing from his lungs as if he'd been running for miles without stopping. He sat bolt upright and began looking around frantically, snapping his head left and right until he found who he was looking for.

Dean. Lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to a heart monitor and IV drip. Sam sighed in relief when he saw his brother's chest rising and falling gently as he breathed peacefully in his sleep.

Sam lifted his right hand to rub his face, but winced as stabbing pains shot through his palm and to the ends of his fingers. He gently flexed his injured hand until the pain had subsided slightly.

God, I am such an idiot! Sam thought angrily to himself. If I hadn't been so careless, Dean wouldn't be in this mess! He rubbed his eyes with his uninjured left hand and sighed.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Sam's head shot up and he saw Dean, eyes open and grinning at him. "You're awake!" He said happily.

"Looks like it." Dean tried to sit up, but grunted and slumped back down as pain wracked his body.

"Hey," Sam said gently, getting up from his makeshift bed to sit by Dean, "you should lie still."

"Thanks for the warning," Dean quipped with a grimace. "What happened?"

"...You got injured."

"No shit Sherlock," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. "How long have I been out?"

"About three days."

Dean let out a low whistle. "We got it though... right?"

Sam frowned. "You don't remember?"

Dean thought for a moment. "I remember... getting the victims out of the warehouse, but after that... nothing." Sam sighed shakily and Dean frowned at him. "What happened, Sam?"

FLASHBACK

"Ever heard of anything like this before?" Sam whispered.

"Nope."

"Well, that's comforting."

They crept silently through the abandoned warehouse, following the sounds of snapping, crunching and the occasional whimper, weapons raised in front of them.

"How do we know this will kill it?" Sam asked, shaking the shotgun he was holding.

"We don't."

"What if it doesn't? What if shooting it just pisses it off?"

"Then we torch the son-of-a-bitch," Dean said simply. "That usually works. Now shut up and follow me." Sam fell in line behind his brother and they continued through the warehouse.

After a few minutes, during which the sounds became louder, they came across a large store room. Toward the back left of the room they could just make out a crude cage, containing possibly a dozen people, each with varying degrees of injury- some lying on the floor and other cowering in the corner. Sam nudged Dean in the back and nodded to the right. What they saw was sickening.

A seven foot demon was hunched over a bloody red mess, which vaguely resembled what was once human body. The monster resembled a Wendigo, but had a pale green hue to its skin. There were long black, lethal looking spikes protruding from its spine. It had what looked like a scythe attached to the end of its right arm and two finger-like claws at the end of its left. It seemed to be cutting through what remained of the limbs and chewing through the bone as if it were nothing but a candy cane, snapping hungrily and relishing every bite.

"You get the survivors," Sam whispered, "and I'll distract the Big Bad."

"No! Sam, wait-!" But Sam had disappeared before Dean could stop him. "Crap," he muttered. He turned his head to the cage and made his way towards it.

As he got closer, his nose was hit with the disgusting stench of rotting flesh. When he reached the cage, he saw that there were fourteen people in there, but only five were fit to escape. The rest were... beyond saving; mere torsos, discarded like trash now that they were void of limbs.

"Don't worry," Dean said softly as he saw the victims recoil at his approach. "I'm here to save you."

He found the door and whacked it open with the butt of his shotgun. He looked around as he heard an ear splitting screech and saw Sam playing a deadly game of cat and mouse with the demon, who had abandoned its meal due to the fact it had a much tastier morsel it its sight. He saw Sam had lost his shotgun.

"Dean, get them out of here!" Sam yelled, not taking his eyes off the demon.

"Be careful!" Dean yelled back, before ushering the surviving victims out of the way of danger.

Sam saw them leave out of the corner of his eye as he bobbed and weaved out of the demons way. It continued to screech, but apart from lunging at him jerkily a few times, the creature didn't seem to want to harm him. Sam slowed down, as did the demon, and he watched as it cocked its head to one side.

Is it... is that thing thinking? Sam thought incredulously.

Sam began to back away and the demon followed. It clicked its grotesque jaws together and continued to scrutinise him. Before long, Sam found himself backed up against a wall with no easy means of escape. The demon clicked again and its mouth twisted into what looked like a malicious grin. It raised its scythe and-

"Sam!"

Sam snapped his head to the left and saw Dean running towards them. The demon turned and screeched angrily.

"Dean, look out!" Sam yelled.

But it happened too fast; Dean didn't have time to react and all Sam could do was watch in horror. The creature slashed at his stomach and Sam heard a sickening wet noise as the scythe sliced through flesh. Dean yelled and fell to the floor, dropping his shotgun, which went clattering away across the room. The demon opened its mouth and squealed, a high ptiched keening sound, before spraying Dean with a sticky black fluid. He choked and shuddered, trying to get up, but fell back to the ground as his strength continued to ebb away. Just before he shut his eyes and lost consciousness, Sam saw Dean's eyes flash a vivid lime green colour.

The demon turned to Sam and screeched, racing toward him. But Sam had grabbed his brothers lost shotgun. He aimed and pulled the trigger, covering his face as the demons head exploded in a shower of flesh, blood and bone.

Before the demons body had hit the ground, Sam had already raced to his brother's side. He picked him up and held his head with his left arm, while trying to stem the bleeding with his right. But as soon as his skin touched the black liquid that Dean had been covered in, he felt a searing pain and heard the sizzle of burning flesh. Sam cursed and yelled in pain. He tore a strip off his t-shirt and wrapped his hand in it.

"Come on Dean, hold on."

He picked up his brother and carried him outside, where he lay him on the ground by the side of the Impala. He dug into his pocket for is phone and called 911...

END FLASHBACK

"... they said you're lucky," Sam said quietly. "You lost a lot of blood." His head was hung low, avoiding his brother's gaze.

Dean frowned. "What about cops? Weren't there any at the scene?"

Sam looked up. "Yeah, but they followed us here."

"What did you tell them?"

Sam snorted a short laugh. "That some freaks were running around with a knife and some battery acid. I said they were wearing masks so I couldn't see their faces."

"You didn't tell them about the warehouse?"

Sam shook his head. "No. After you were stabilised I went back and razed the place to the ground."

Dean nodded in approval, and then frowned slightly. "What about the body? Was it still there?"

"Yeah. Headless, just the way I left it." Dean laughed softly, but then winced as pain shot through his injured abdomen. "At least we know this demon is one of the few that stays dead after being pumped full off buckshot."

"Yeah," Dean said. "Good thing you went back and burned the body though." He shook his head. "You can never be too sure."

"What about the victims? You think they're likely to tell someone?"

"I doubt it. It's kind of sad when you think that they won't get the right support they need after going through something like that, but the moment they tell anyone, they're likely to get committed."

Sam laughed softly and smiled at his older brother, but then frowned and looked away as he felt a lump in his throat and a prickling behind his eyes.

Dean frowned. "What's wrong?"

Sam shook his head and sighed. "This is my fault."

"What? How?"

"I hesitated. If I'd have been quicker, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

"Sam, don't beat yourself up about this. You-"

"Oh, you're awake."

Dean turned to see who had cut him off mid-sentence. Standing in the doorway was a young nurse, a small smile on her lips. She had a heart-shaped face, a slender nose, full lips that shone with gloss and smouldering brown eyes. Her cascade of luscious, chocolate brown curls fell past her shoulders and framed her face perfectly.

Dean hitched a grin on to his face. "I guess I am."

She widened her smile, showing a row of pearly white teeth. "I'll go and get Doctor Collins."

"Hurry back," Dean called as she left the room. She grinned at him through his bedroom window before leaving to get the doctor. Dean let out another low whistle. "A man could die happy in a place like this."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're not going to die."

"No, but if I was... again, I could die happy this time."

Sam frowned. "And why is that?"

"Dude! Did you not see her? She's smoking hot!"

Sam shook his head, laughing. "I can tell you're on your way to a full recovery."

"Aw, Sammy, you say that like it's a bad thing."

Sam laughed again, wishing he could punch his brother on the arm.

"Mr. Dawkins?"

The two brothers turned their heads to see Doctor Collins and the 'smoking hot' nurse standing in their doorway.

"Yeah," Dean answered.

The doctor smiled and walked in, looking down at a chart. "Nice to see you're awake." He turned to Sam. "Must be a relief."

Sam smiled. "Yeah, big relief."

Dean glanced at Sam with a 'give-me-a-break-and-can-all-the-sappy-crap' look on his face.

The doctor didn't seem to notice and continued. "We did manage to clean out the, um... battery acid, but we had to work fairly vigorously in order to do so. You'll be quite sore for another week at the very least."

"I don't have to stay the whole week do I?" Dean asked quickly.

Sam smirked. He knew his brother too well, and no number of hot nurses was going to be enough to keep Dean cooped up in a hospital for an entire week; he'd end up banging his head against the heart monitor... repeatedly.

The doctor smiled. "No. I think we'll keep you in for a few days longer, just to be on the safe side, but then you'll be free to go." He turned to Sam. "Your bandages can come off now."

"That'd be great," Sam said, feeling a rush of gratitude toward the doctor; they'd been beyond itchy over the past few days. He smiled at the nurse as she made her way over to his side with a tray of scissors and cleaning swabs. The doctor began scribbling something on his clipboard.

As she bent down slightly to cut the bandages off Sam's hand, he saw Dean tilting his head to one side as he surveyed her rear. Dean pursed his lips, showing he liked what he saw. Sam caught his eye and frowned. Dean shrugged and continued to stare.

"You seem to have had an extreme allergic reaction to the acid," the doctor told Sam as the nurse peeled away his dressing, revealing the pink raw flesh underneath.

"Sorry," she said gently as she touched Sam's hand with an alcohol wipe, causing his breath to hiss in pain. Her hands were soft and smooth.

"Don't worry about it," he said smiling at her, which she returned shyly. He turned to the doctor. "How come I got an allergic reaction?" He flexed his fingers gently, working the stiffness out of his digits.

"Your skin seems to have reacted with a chemical compound in the acid," Doctor Collins explained. "Although it does seem to be the lesser of two evils; I doubt your brother would've made it if he'd have reacted the way you did."

Sam nodded understandingly, but Dean frowned. "How come?"

"The acid was found deep inside your wound," the doctor said. "If your body had reacted badly, there wouldn't have been much we could've done. Your body would have gone into anaphylactic shock, causing massive internal swelling and closing off your airways."

Dean looked slightly shocked, although that may have been due to the fact that he nearly died of an allergic reaction, rather than a demon bite of some kind. Who ever heard of a demon that kills you by swelling your airways shut? "Looks like I got lucky."

"Extremely." Doctor Collins smiled. "I'll let you get some rest."

He left the room and the nurse followed with Sam's discarded bandages. Sam saw Dean eyeing the nurse's butt as she walked away.

Sam tutted. "What?" Asked Dean.

"You must be desperate to hit on a woman while you're bedridden."

"I won't be bedridden for long."

"Maybe, but you'll be on no shape to do much with a wound like that on your stomach."

"You know, Sammy," Dean folded his arms gently behind his back, "you can be such a killjoy."


Please let me know how I've done =)