"Hang in there, Dean," Sam said as he sped down the rugged South Dakota road. "We'll be at Bobby's in no time."
Dean groaned and rolled his head along the window. His arm never left its protective embrace around his shredded stomach. "No."
"Dean, be reasonable," Sam argued. "You've lost too much blood and you're already getting an infection."
"We can't," Dean panted. "He's already dealing with so much…" Dean broke off with a groan as Sam hit a particularly large pothole.
"Sorry, God, Dean," Sam reached one hand over and squeezed Dean's arm. Dean groaned again in response and then went silent.
They had been hunting a werewolf about eighty miles away from Bobby's place. Sam had wanted to call Bobby in to help him get his mind off things, but Dean had been adamant. They would do this alone.
Sam knew Dean had forgiven Bobby for pointing a gun at them a few weeks ago in his house. Sam also knew that Dean was knocked off balance by the occurrence. It had taken years for Dean to trust Bobby. Now, a second father figure had pushed aside Dean's loyalty, even though this time it had been based on grief. Sam had planned to just give Dean space and let him come to terms with it on his own. However, the werewolf had other ideas.
This creature had been particularly strong. Sam and Dean, weary from the events that had occurred just a few weeks before hadn't had time to fully prepare since the full moon was that night. They had followed the werewolf into the woods where it had dragged its latest victim. Dean had been lined up for the kill when a second werewolf came out of nowhere. Sam was able to dispose of the original werewolf, and Dean was able to kill the new one. However, its claws had caught Dean across the stomach. The scratches were deep and messy. Sam had taken Dean back to the hotel to clean him up, but as soon as he saw the wounds in the light he knew he would need more supplies. He had bound Dean's stomach tightly and bundled him into the car. He sped down the road toward Bobby's and more medical supplies.
By the time Sam got to Bobby's, Dean was either mostly asleep or unconscious. Sam could still see tight lines of pain around Dean's eyes and mouth. However, he had given up his arguments and fallen silent. Sam gently squeezed his shoulder and climbed out of the car. By now, the Sun was beginning to rise and the first streaks of dawn were visible in the night sky. Sam knocked forcefully on the door. "Bobby! Are you awake?" he yelled as he pounded on the door. Sam was shocked that the door opened almost instantly. He stepped back in surprise as Bobby came outside.
"Whatdaya want boy," Bobby slurred slightly.
Sam squinted at Bobby. "Are you drunk?" he asked, his heart sinking.
"Nope," Bobby replied. "Not far from it though. What brings you to my doorstep at the ass crack of dawn."
Sam's momentary distraction was removed as he remembered his bleeding brother in the car. "It's Dean," he said. Sam could see concern replace confusion on Bobby's face.
"What's that boy gotten into this time?" he asked.
"Werewolf," Sam replied succinctly as he began walking back to the car. Bobby rolled quickly behind him. "We miscounted. There were two instead of one, and Dean got caught across the stomach with claws." By now they had reached the car, and Sam was gently opening the door so he could catch Dean if he fell out. Sure enough, Dean began sliding out of the car, but Sam was able to stop him in time.
"We're here bro," Sam said as he crouched down to Dean's level. Dean looked down at him with glassy eyes.
"I told you no," Dean grunted, trying to slide back into the car. He stopped with a groan as the movement pulled on his abdomen.
"And why would you do a fool thing like that?" Bobby huffed as he got a good luck at Dean's pale face.
"Bobby?" Dean looked up in surprise. He quickly pulled himself together and straightened up despite the pain it caused him. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. Sam here is over-reacting."
"Bull shit," Bobby countered. "Sam, get this fool inside. I'll go ahead and get the supplies."
"Come on Dean," Sam insisted. "You're dead on your feet and your wounds require more help than I can give in a motel."
"We don't stay a second longer than we have to," Dean insisted.
"Fine," Sam agreed, reaching into the car and hooking Dean's knees under his arm.
"I can walk," Dean insisted.
"You're just going to rip the wounds open again if you try to move," Sam said. "I've got you." He hoisted Dean up in his arms, causing Dean to groan again.
Sam quickly carried his older brother into the house, noting how Dean had lost weight recently. He thought of what he had caught Famine saying as he walked in, full of power from the demon blood. "You're not hungry because you're already dead inside."
He tightened his grip and hurried, resolving to speak with Dean more thoroughly later. Right now, he needed to get the bleeding fully stopped and the infection eliminated as soon as possible.
Sam carried Dean into their usual room and set him down gently on the bed. He gently helped Dean straighten his legs, apologizing several times for the pain it caused. By the time Sam had Dean comfortably settled and had cut off his shirt, Bobby rolled in with medical supplies. He cursed at the sight in front of him and moved up to Dean's head.
"That werewolf got you good boy. It's going to take some work to fix that up."
Dean's eyes were at half-mast by now, but he seemed to become more alert, much to Sam's regret. "We won't be here long." Dean was trying to reassure himself as well as Bobby, Sam was sure. However, Bobby's eyes seemed to harden.
"You'll stay until you are damn well enough to leave, and I won't hear another word about it," he huffed. "Now here. I don't have anything stronger I'm afraid." Bobby pulled Dean's head up and helped him chase down some swigs of whiskey. Dean's eyes were back to half-mast and Sam now felt more comfortable with working.
He began by tediously cleaning out the long scratches that started just below his rib cage and ended at his hips. They were full of dirt and whatever else the werewolf had been into. Sam was trying not to think about it. Two of the wounds seemed to be relatively clean, but the other three were already puffy and showing signs of infection.
Bobby sat on the other side of Sam and handed him supplies as needed. Sam was so focused on his work that he barely noticed his worried glances at Dean's face. Gently, Bobby put his hand on Dean's forehead causing Dean's eyes to fly back open in surprise.
"He's got a fever, Sam," Bobby informed him seriously. "It's getting to be a bad one at that."
Dean weakly started to protest, but Sam could see he was reaching his limit.
"I figured," Sam said calmly although he let Bobby see the concern in his eyes. "Do you have antibiotics?"
"Some, but they aren't near strong enough," Bobby admitted. "I can get some rounded up in a jiffy. The doc owes me some favors."
Sam nodded and went back to cleaning the wounds, trying to ignore Dean's hiss of pain as he renewed his efforts. The wounds, while not life threatening, were bad enough that Sam realized Dean would be laid up quite a bit longer than he wanted to be.
"Almost finished, Dean," Sam soothed as he cleaned out the last wound. "Just need to stitch you up, and you'll be good as new."
Dean smirked and gently rolled his head to look at Sam. "You suck at lying, Sammy."
"Whatever, Jerk."
"Bitch."
Sam gently smirked and began stitching Dean's stomach as Bobby came back from calling the Doctor.
"Doc says he's got some antibiotics he can give me. You'll have to go get them though, Sam."
Sam nodded and refocused his efforts on finishing. Dean was sweating now, and Sam could see how hard he was working to not cry out in pain.
Sam finally finished and cleaned up the supplies and the room. Bobby had fallen asleep next to Dean and Dean was either asleep or unconscious. Sam gently wrapped Dean's abdomen in bandages and felt his forehead again. Dean was burning up now and sweat was rolling down his forehead. Sam sighed. They could never catch a break. Sam went and filled a large bowl with water. He grabbed several washcloths and brought them back with them. When he returned, Sam gently woke Bobby.
"I need to go get those antibiotics," Sam informed him. "His fever is getting pretty high."
Bobby nodded groggily but seemed to come more fully awake when he realized how he could feel the heat pouring off of Dean. He grabbed one of the washcloths and laid it across Dean's forehead.
"I'll wake him and give him the antibiotics I have," Bobby replied. "You git going."
Sam nodded and looked back at Dean. He hated leaving him vulnerable like this, even though Bobby was with him. He gently rubbed his hand over Dean's sweat slicked forehead. "I'll be right back," he promised. He left quickly before his resolve could be shaken. He would be back at Dean's side in no time.