I had in mind this takes place around season 2, but really could be any season.
~
It was almost beautiful..the way the snow twirled and danced from the sky above. The flakes stuck to his eyelashes...
The full moon was streaming through the trees, making the landscape glow. He was cold and warm all at once. But what Sam couldn't quite understand was why he was on the ground and why Dean was yelling...
"Sam?! You good?! ...Crap."
Dean's tone was weird. There was suddenly alot of scuffling,grunting and swearing. Everything was hazy, muted...
The first thing Sam felt was cold. The second thing was the jackhammer against the side of his scull where he had been hit. His vision still swirled as he slowly sat up trying to get his barings. Plus side, he remembered now why he was on the ground in the woods by a small pond. Werewolves. He was hunting them with...
"Dean!" Sam shouted into the night, pain and panic rising as he stood up slowly. His head hurt ...
Everytime he turned to search the surrounding area, he felt a wave of nauseaua. Swallowing profusely, he shouted his brothers name again..and again.
Sam shon the high beam of his flash light to the ground around him. There was a small pool of blood where he was just laying. He guessed his head might need a few staples..
"Dean!"
Slowly a horrific thought processed slowly through his injured head. The pond. It wasn't deep by any means, but with the freezing cold weather...
Stumbling forward to the shoreline, Sam scanned the pond slowly, looking for any breaks in the ice.
"Dean!"
"S'mmy. Over here..."
Dean's voice was weird again, but Sam was relieved. He almost felt like crying. He wouldn't tell his brother this though...
Again stumbling across the snowy ground, Sam followed Dean's voice - Sam had to grin. Dean was humming some tune.
"Is that Jethro Tull?" Sam said as he finally caught sight of Dean.
"Good guess." Dean answered. He was laying on the ground, shivering uncontrollably.
"Why are you just laying there?" Sam asked trying very hard to stop himself from swaying, nauseaua creeping up again.
"Because my legs are numb. Big bad wolf jumped me, we tussled, broke through the ice. Try swimming and breaking ice 60 feet to shore. How's the head?" Dean managed to sit up and then stand,albeit shakily. He was still shivering, jaw clenching and unclenching,bruises blossiming against his left cheek.
"I'm fine."
"Don't steal my best line. Let's get to the car and we'll go from there."
They reached the car,both a mess. To make things worse,it started to snow heavily.
"We could sleep in the car.." Sam suggested, leaning against the hood of the impala,watching Dean's shaking hands try and get the keys from his pocket.
"..and not get out of here? Yeah, no thanks. We gotta get you checked out-"
"You are in no shape to drive, Dean." Sam tried his bossy tone. Failed it miserably. His speech was slightly slurry.
"I'm cold. You've got a scull fracture," Dean finally got the keys out and pointed to the passenger door, "Get it."
Hearing the underlying seriousness of his brother's shaky voice, Sam wobbled himself into the car. Dean climbed in shortly after and started the engine.
It wasn't until they were on the main road when Sam realized that there was no heat on. He reached for the dial but Dean swatted his hand away.
"The heat will make you sleepy, " Glancing from the road and the back seat, Dean reached and pulled out a blanket putting it on Sam's lap, "Can't have you cashing out on me."
"Dean. C'mon. You're -"
"I'm okay, Sammy. I swear. Just cold. I'll be fine."
A couple of hours spent in the ER and 4 staples to the head later, Sam made his way toward the waiting room where Dean was.
"The verdict?" Dean stood, eyes roaming to where he assumed the wound was.
"Better than we thought. No fracture. Just a -"
"Bitch of a concussion. Mm. Sucks for me."
"For you? How could this suck for you?!"
"I have to deal with your whiny, complainy concussed self for weeks."
"Pretty sure you just described yourself,Dean."
"Pretty sure you just need to shut up. C'mon. Let's blow this town. "
More?