Aftereffects

Set after The Benders

A/N: Just a little one-shot that popped in my head while watching S1E15. Enjoy!

"Ugh, finally! Motel, sweet motel!"

"Seriously?" Sam frowned at his brother, but he didn't have the energy to keep up the banter. He'd been kidnapped and nearly killed and to make matters worse, a sudden wave of nausea started to overcome him.

"Yeah, why not?" Dean shrugged, getting out of the Impala and heading up to their new motel room; but not before sneaking a concerned look at his brother. Sam was slowly and stiffly climbed out of the car. He smiled sadly; his little brother and he swore to himself, that, from now on he would never let Sam leave his side…ever.

"You alright?" Dean said, pulling out the key and unlocked the door.

"Yeah, I'm just beat…and, not to mention, really sore."

"Don't blame ya, Sammy."

Sam chuckled as he followed Dean into the room. For once, it was nice and not smelling like puke and old food. Immediately, both Dean and Sam headed for the bathroom, eager to take a nice long shower. Sam expected Dean to start fighting him for the first shower, but he suddenly did something that shocked him.

"You go first, Sam. Just leave me some hot water, 'kay?"

Sam's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wow, letting me take a shower before you? That's a first; maybe I should get kidnapped more often."

"That's not funny," Dean growled. He couldn't lose his brother again. "I'm just letting you go first, because you smell a lot worse than I do."

"Whatever," Sam scoffed as he stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Once he was behind closed doors, his smiled formed into a pained grimace. He lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it in the corner. Looking at himself in the mirror, he sighed; black and purple bruises scattered his chest and torso and man, did they hurt like a bitch! In fact, everything did, he just wouldn't tell Dean that, 'cause his brother had already been freaked bad enough…even if he wouldn't admit it. Inhaling painfully, he resumed taking off his clothes before slipping into the relaxing, warm water.

~~~SPN~~~

Dean watched as Sam shut the door in his face. Almost immediately, the smile vanished from his pale, dirty face. He kept sharp eyes trained on the door as he backed up and sat on the nearest bed. He couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away from the door…from his brother. He listened to the soft patter of the water, which, by the way, was lulling him to sleep. No, he couldn't allow himself to fall asleep; what of something happened to Sam again? But in minutes, he lost his battle with fatigue and fell back onto the pillows, snoring loudly.

~~~SPN~~~

Sam stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He opened the door and was immediately hit with a gush of cool air. It felt good on his burning body; the shower had washed him, sure, but it didn't rinse away the queasy feeling that he had. Brushing it away for the moment, he walked past his brother's bed and smiled. Dean was passed out, sprawled across the blankets, boots and all. Typical Dean. But "typical Dean" needed to take a shower, because he could smell him from a mile away.

He smacked Dean's boot with his hand, attempting to arouse him.

"Dean. Dean, wake up!"

"Huh, wha'? Wha's goin' on?" Dean slurred.

Sam chuckled at his brother's sleep-filled muttering as he went to his duffel to get some clothes.

"Get up smelly beauty, you really need a shower."

Dean looked around, confused for a moment, before realizing where he was.

"Oh…thanks. Did you leave me any hot water or did you hog it all like usual?"

"Don't worry, there's plenty Deanna."

Dean scowled at the hated nickname, but snatched some spare clothes and headed into the privacy of the bathroom. Sam snickered as he got dressed; once he finished, he climbed into bed, pulling the covers up over his shoulders, shivering violently. First he was hot, now he was freezing? God, his body needed to make up his fricken mind! Slowly, the sickness and sheer exhaustion began to drag him into darkness and within moments, he was fast asleep.

~~~SPN~~~

"Okay, Samantha, you did not leave me any hot water, you little bitch," Dean complained, coming out of the bathroom.

No response.

"Sam?" Dean's heart began pounding brutally against his chest. It eased up, though, when he saw a large heap in the bed next to his own. He quietly walked over and saw his brother laying on his stomach, deep in his slumber. The corner of Dean's mouth was tugged upwards while he brushed the damp brown bangs out of his little brother's face. He snapped back his hand when Sam began to stir, but relaxed when his brother went still again. He placed his hand back on Sam's forehead and frowned; he just noticed how warm Sam's skin was, but he assumed it was the shower and the humidity of the room. Luckily, the motel room had an air conditioner, so he went over to it and put the air on high. That should cool the both of them off. He moved back over to his bed and heaved a sigh.

"Night, Sammy." He turned off the lamp and climbed into his own bed. As he lowered himself down on the pillows, he never, once, removed his gaze from Sam's peaceful looking face. He'd been extremely lucky that he had Sam back by his side instead of losing him to those damn yahoos. He could have ended up like Kathleen's brother and those others…dead. No, he didn't want to think about that; Sam was safe and that's what mattered. That was the last thought before he drifted off into nothingness.

~~~SPN~~~

Dean heard a shot echo in the air and his heart ripped in two. One piece was filled with absolute horror and misery; the other half was boiling with rage and vengeance.

"If you hurt my brother I'll kill you, I swear. I'll kill you. I will kill you all!"

Another shot rang out and he prayed that Sammy had gotten the jump on the redneck. Once the two other hicks went to go check on their son, he slowly and carefully untied the ropes that bound his hands together. While the girl wasn't paying attention, he kicked her in the shin and smacked the knife out of her grip.

"Ah!" She screamed. But before she could retaliate, Dean shoved her into a nearby closet and locked the door. She instantly began pounding and kicking the door, causing Dean to jump back in surprise. How could such a small girl be so evil? But he didn't linger on the thought; he sprinted out of the house and towards the barn. He prayed, prayed, prayed to the almighty god that Sam was okay; please god let him be okay. When he soundlessly stepped inside, not wanting to alert the other guys…wherever they were. He went to where he last saw his brother, but he stopped short, his blood running cold.

"No, no, no," he whispered. "SAM!" He bolted over to where his brother lay motionless in the open cage. In the corner of his eye he saw the sheriff, also, lying still in her cage, blood flowing from the bullet wound in her head. But Sam mattered more; he always did. He moved into the crate and kneeled down next to his brother.

"Sammy?"

No response. He rolled him onto his side, and that's when he almost threw-up. Like the sheriff, Sam had a gunshot wound right in the center of his head. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be fucking happening!

"Sam!" He brought the bleeding kid into his lap and shook him roughly. "Please no, Sammy. Wake up god damn it!" Tears began flowing into his face as he rocked his brother's dead body back and forth. "Please don't be dead."

"He's dead boy, and, soon, you will be too."

Dean looked up to find himself face to face with the shotgun muzzle. He glared at the dirty hillbilly angrily. He didn't even care anymore; he didn't care if he was killed. There was nothing left to live for.

"Go ahead! Fucking do it already!" He closed his eyes as he heard the loud bang and then nothing.

~~~SPN~~~

"Sam!"

Dean shot up in his bed, sweating and crying profusely. His breathing was erratic and his heart was pounding hard against his chest. When he realized where he was, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before throwing the covers off of him. He turned on the lamp and ran to the other bed frantically. He found his brother lying on his back, tangled in the sheets and his arm hanging limply off the side of the bed. His head was no longer facing Dean, so he wasn't able to tell if there was a gunshot wound in Sam's forehead. He knew it probably all a nightmare, but he had to make sure. He stealthily made his way to the other side of the bed and knelt down at his brother's eye level. Sam's mouth was slack, soft snores emanating from it; his face, for some reason, was still pale and ill-looking, but peaceful.

There was no blood, no bullet wound and Sam was alive. Dean fell back onto his heels and wiped his face in exhaustion. That nightmare scared the shit out of him. Taking deep breaths, he moved to the wall and leaned against it heavily. He didn't have the energy to move back to his bed, more so leave his brother's side. He didn't even think he could fall asleep after what just happened.

"Fuck, Sammy."

For two hours, he watched Sam breathe steadily and shift on his bed numerous times before drifting off into a light sleep.

~~~SPN~~~

The next time he woke up was when he heard groaning coming from Sam's bed. He looked at his watch and yawned. 4:35am.

"D'n."

Dean immediately jumped up and made his way over to Sam. When he saw his brother, though, his concern went over the top. Sweat was soaking the sheets, Sam's t-shirt and face. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his cheeks were red with fever. The bed was vibrating, barely but noticeably, from Sam's violent shivering.

"Dean."

"Shit, Sammy."

Sam moaned, but didn't acknowledge his brother's voice. This was bad, this was very bad.

"D-Dean."

"I'm right here Sammy, its o-" That's when he felt it. The kid was radiating heat like a fricken radiator.

"Dammit," He threw back the covers onto the floor, causing Sam to groan again.

"Hold on, Sam, we're gonna get you cooled off. It's okay, I'm gonna take care of you kiddo." When he found it, he went back over to Sam and placed the device in his mouth. How the hell did he get so sick so fast? How did the kid get sick period? A light bulb went off in his head and figured that the grimy, disease infected barn had to have done the trick. Those fucking assholes! Abruptly, a loud beep brought him out of his angry thoughts. His heart pounded, afraid of what he'd see. Shakily bringing the gadget up to his face, he gasped in horror. 105.6. Son of a bitch! He needed to get Sam's temperature down…immediately. He hastily picked his limp brother up, bridal style, not even caring if it was girly or that Sam's sweat was soaking his own shirt. He moved as fast as he could to the bathroom, frantic that the severe heat might do something to Sam's brain. When he got in the small room, he gently placed his brother on the floor and turned the shower on, the cold water on full blast. He, then, stripped Sam of his clothes, disregarding how awkward it was or how embarrassed Sam would be. But, he stopped in shock when he lifted the sticky shirt off of Sam; there were dark bruises covering Sam's back and front, leaving no tanned skin visible.

"What the-" he frowned. Why the hell didn't Sam tell him about these? "You stubborn son of a bitch, Sam." He shook his head and resumed taking off Sam's clothes until the kid was only in his boxers. Quickly, he dragged Sam into the spraying water, soaking his own clothes in the process. He leaned back on the shower wall and laid Sam across his lap, his head pull up against his soaked t-shirted chest. He closed his eyes as he let the water overtake them both; he didn't even care that he was getting wet. Sam was in trouble. He looked down at Sam's pale, and now wet, face.

"Sam, you can't leave me, dude," he whispered. "Not after what we just went through." He unconsciously stroked Sam's hair and leaned his head back on the wall. Why did this shit always happen to them? What did they ever do to deserve this? He sighed in exhaustion as he let the water lull him to sleep.

~~~SPN ~~~

He woke up to utter chilliness and water. Where the hell was he and why was he so cold? He felt nauseous and sore, but he couldn't remember why. His eyes opened sluggishly and he found that he was in the shower, the water splashing on his face and in his eyes.

"…the hell?" He groaned. He felt someone jerk and then a voice appeared.

"Sammy?"

Sam looked up and saw his brother, worry etched all over his face.

"Sam can you hear me?"

"D-Dean? What the hell's going on, why am I half naked in a shower?"

"You had a fever of 105, you bitch, and I know how you feel about hospitals. God damn it, Sam, you're gonna give me a heart attack someday; don't ever scare me like that again."

Sam blinked owlishly while grinning weakly. "S-sorry," he shivered.

Dean smiled. "Do you think you can get up?"

"M-maybe," Sam grunted, trying to lift himself up. His arms suddenly became wobbly and if Dean hadn't been there to catch him, he would have fallen back down. After a couple minutes, Dean sat the shivering and dripping wet Sam on the toilet seat and wrapped a towel around his shoulders.

"Be right back." He ran into the bedroom and fetched some dry clothes for his brother. When he got back Sam's eyelids were dipping and his body was swaying.

"Hey," he snapped, tapping his brother's face lightly. "Stay awake, alright? I don't wanna have to dress you like a Barbie doll."

Sam opened his eyes and scowled at the comment. Suddenly, Sam's face lost all the color that he had left anyways, from his face and moaned.

"I don't feel so good, Dean."

Dean pursed his lips sadly. "I know kiddo, I-" but before he could finish, Sam's cheeks bulged. Then, without warning, Sam bent over and began puking all over the floor.

"It's okay, Sammy, let it out," Dean coaxed, rubbing Sam's trembling back. When the retching finally ceased, Dean looked down at his legs and gagged.

"Dude! You got it all over me!"

Sam looked up tiredly and chuckled weakly. "Sor-sorry."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. "It's okay, I guess," Dean said, wiping some of it off with his sleeve. "I'll clean it up later. Right now, you need to rest."

Sam nodded and after much swearing, groaning, and muttering, Sam had dry clothes on and Dean helped him back into the bedroom.

"Here," he said, setting Sam on his bed. "Sleep in my bed, because yours is soaked with sweat like you just ran a marathon. "Nasty, by the way."

"Whatever," Sam groaned, getting under the crisp sheets. He sighed in content and closed his eyes.

Dean watched as his brother's breathing evened out and figured he had fallen asleep. When he turned his back, though, he heard a weak voice speak.

"Th-thanks, Dean."

He smiled and bowed his head. He turned back to face Sam and saw that the kid was back asleep, out like a light. He went over to the bed and stroked his brother's arm.

"You're welcome, kid."

Sam was going to be alright. He was safe, his temperature was returning to normal and he finally looked peaceful. Damn! Twice in one week he'd almost lost his brother, both to something that wasn't even supernatural. If it ever happened again, he didn't know if he'd be able to handle it. He didn't know if his dad could handle it either. He smiled and wiped his face tiredly. Well, now he had to clean up that shitty mess in the bathroom and get some new sheets so he could sleep for a week. God, this kid was going to give him grey hairs…unbelievable. But that's why he loved the guy to death and that's why he'd give his own life to keep him safe. He patted Sam's leg and shook his head.

"Oh, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I love ya kid."

The end.

Well, what do you think? The ending was kind of sucky, but I couldn't think of any other way to end it. Reviews make me happy! Thanks :)