Disclaimer: The Winchesters, no-ot mine.
A/N: Here is a little hurt/comfort in the Winchester style. Hope you enjoy. As always, watch out for lurking typos. Happy reading.
Oh, Brother!
Ge' off me S'mantha." Dean muttered, pushing at Sam's restraining hands.
Sam acquiesced, releasing him slowly and taking a cautious half step back. " 'Kay. But Dean, you, you're hurt and I think you just need to sit down for a minute." He remained tense, ready to catch his wobbling sibling if he faltered.
" 'M fine. Peashy in fact. Jus' need to get to th' 'mpala." Dean reassured his little brother, but it didn't have the intended affect, because the words came out all slurry.
With pursed lips and eyes squinched in worry, Sam watched his stubborn brother intently as he made his wavering way towards the Impala. Following closely, he kept easy pace with the staggering gait of his definitely injured brother. After the third vicious stumble that ended with Dean landing one-kneed on the rocky path, he gave in to his overwhelming desire to help. In fact he really couldn't keep himself from grabbing at Dean and pulling him upright. Of course this set Dean off again with his grumbling, complaining, "I'm fine's" and "I can do it myself's". Which brought it all to a head and Sam had had enough. Because, not only was his hardheaded brother swaying like a sapling in a wind storm, he was also bleeding copious amounts of the red stuff, from a serious looking head wound. He most certainly was not fine and he very obviously could not do it himself, so he was going to accept Sam's help with grace or with Sam slinging him up on his shoulder like a backpack. Either way, Sam was going to helping his brother right now.
With a determined scowl, Dean tried to pull away from him again, succeeding only in causing them both to stumble and almost go down, again. He whimpered as Sam's arms tightened around him working to keep them upright.
Sam's quick burst of temper faded as he heard his brother's gasp of pain. He gentled his hold, trying to be easier in his handling. "It's all right. I've gotcha kiddo." Sam soothed, with one muscled arm wrapped around his brother's chest and the other under his shoulder, he then proceeded to practically carry Dean the last few feet to the Impala. Getting the door open and wrestling his now floppy and uncoordinated brother into the passenger seat, proved to be a trial of patience. Finally it was accomplished and Sam sighed in relief. Squatting down in front of Dean, Sam grasped his chin and tried to figure out how bad his brother's head was broken. He needed to assess whether or not they would be headed to the E.R., or back to the motel. "Hey bro. Can you look at me? I need to see your eyes, all right?"
Dean blinked a few times, trying to get his blurry eyes to focus on the shifting image of what he assumed was his little brother. "I'm fine, Smammy." He mumbled, patting at Sam's chest and face, nearly jamming a couple of fingers in Sam's eyes.
With a aggravated splutter, Sam pushed his brother's groping hand away, before he had the chance to actually do any real damage. "Sure Dean. You are in tip top shape." Sam sighed wearily.
Smirking, Dean took a deep wheezing breath and answered seriously. "Glad ya noticed. I have been working out."
Sam choked on a surprised chuckle. Studying his brother, he was happy to find his eyes finally seemed to be focusing on him, well he amended, trying to focus. Hospital it would be. One pupil was blown and the other was not reacting right, but Dean was at least aware enough to make his patented snappy comebacks. Injured Dean plus snark, plus smirks, equalled semi-coherent Dean. He would take lucid Dean over loopy Dean every time, because loopy Dean brought on an emo, angsty, tear-producing Sammy that was no fun.
When his brother was out of it, his walls tended to crumble and he was prone to Hell-inspired flashbacks and a sorrow of unfathomable depths shone out of those vulnerable green eyes. That pain always seemed magnified by the brimming tears, Dean tried his best to contain. Sometimes though, those tears would escape their bounds and trickle silently down his pale cheeks, leaving behind glistening evidence of his brother's heartache. This totally broke Sam's heart, seeing his usually stoic brother unguarded and confused. Sam knew his brother's hurt leaked through at other times, not just when he was injured, but it always felt worse when this was the case. Since Dean had come back from Hell, it seemed like Sam's heart had been broken quite a lot, so he took solace in the way confusion began to give way to Dean's brand of deflection. Sam would take the smart-aleck comments over the displayed ache of Hell remembered every time. There wasn't much Sam wouldn't put up with, just to have his brother back with him (everything else was small in comparison).
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Dean said, interrupting Sam's contemplation, with the snarky comment and pursed lips.
Sam frowned a little. Dean was doing better, he reminded himself. He was thrilled to have him back... but, wow. Shaking his head, he admitted that Dean sure knew how to push his buttons.
" 'S hard to look away, huh Francis?" Dean asked with a ornery grin.
Rolling his eyes, Sam huffed out a resigned sigh and gave in to the force of nature that was his big brother. He couldn't stop a matching grin in return as he replied softly. "Yeah, Dean. It is hard to look away."
~The End - Thank you for reading. I hope you have a few minutes to send a review, if you enjoyed it.