Author's Notes: Little backstory. Sam and Dean have been cursed to temporarily exhibit characteristics of a demon and an angel respectively. Meaning, among other things, that they can't touch each other without it causing them horrible pain. While under said curse, Dean ends up hanging from a steep drop drop off and while they wait for Cas and Bobby, Sam is the only one there to keep him from falling.

Also, written sometime before we knew exactly how emotionless Sam really is.

Summary: Gen. Season 6 spoilers. Dean and Sam never noticed how invaluable being able to touch each other was until they no longer could.

No Hands But These

Dean grit his teeth against the pain and barked up at Sam

"Dammit, Sam! Let go!"

Sam's fingers dug deeper into Dean's skin, refusing to relinquish his hold on his brother's forearm. Blood dripped from Sam's nose, his eyes glazed and only slitted open.

"Not…letting you go…" Sam tried for a smile, but ended with a grimace. "…Not ever, Dean."

Heaven's vessel fought harder, trying to free himself. That old feeling of protectSammysaveSammy back in full force.

"It'll kill you before it does me! Let me go Sam, now!"

Their perdicament, however temporary, meant that they were poison to each other. A touch caused pain, prolonged exposure did damage, and this…A demon's power can't compare to an angel's. Dean would kill Sam just by being too close to him too long.

"You idiot! You'll die!"

"And…you'll die…if I let go. Can't….fly, Dean."

Dean felt what must be condensation drip down his face because it wasn't raining…Sam barely had one eye cracked open now, but Dean could see the broken blood vessels. God, he was killing Sam.

"Just a little longer…he's coming. Just…a little longer." Sam was muttering to himself. And where the hell was Cas already?

A jolt of pain blacked out Sam's vision for a split second and Dean's arm slid in his grip.

"No!"

Sam grasped onto his brother again, nails digging in, drawing blood in his desperation.

And apparently blood was worse than just skin because Sam wailed. An inhuman cry of anguish that Dean only heard in his deepest nightmares. But he didn't let go.

"Sammy!"

"Dean!"

Dean turned panicked eyes to Bobby who was now sprinting towards them. Cas must have brought him along.

Before he could blink, Dean was hauled up by his jacket collar effortlessly and thrown clear of any danger. It happened so quick, Dean was momentarily stunned. Then, 'Sam!' The thought ever present in his mind.

"Sammy!"

Dean spun and found his brother writhing in Castiel's arms. His back arching so sharply Dean was sure he could hear his spine crack. Cas held Sam's upper body down against his own thigh while his other hand trapped Sam's wrists, stopping him from thrashing about and hurting himself even more in the throes of pain.

And it was clumsy and he was doing it wrong and that's not the way you hold Sammy!

Dean was halfway to them before Bobby's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He spun to look at the man, outraged. Bobby regarded him with sympathy.

"You'll only hurt him, boy."

That stopped Dean cold. A few months ago, he hadn't even been able to stand being in the same room with Sam, the same car. He had become more and more certain that this wasn't his brother, that this thing with that familiar face was something he may have to kill.

After finding that Sam was still Sam just…not all of him, it had gotten better. They could hunt together, live together, even occasionally laugh together. But it was a slow road back with a still soulless brother, and it was painful.

Dean had spent these last few months with an aversion to touching Sam. So when they were cursed like this, it hadn't been a huge transition and it was only temporary. Any contact between them, 'between good and evil' as the senile old broad had said, caused them both pain. So the needed touches, relocating a shoulder, stitching up a wounded back, those were little bursts of hurt that they could deal with. Besides, Sam currently lacked the means to return to his old touchy-feely self anyway and Dean was still fleshing out this new dynamic between them.

But even without a soul, with no gain to be had in the hunt from his actions, Sam leapt to Dean's aid as soon as the first sound of distress hit the air. As soon as Dean miss-stepped and started to fall, Sam caught him. And the bastard wouldn't let go.

Dean watched as Cas tried to soothe Sam, but there was little an angel could do for a (however temporary) demon. They just had to wait until the pain abated.

Bobby watched with a horribly concerned gaze, but didn't take his hand from Dean's shoulder. Dean though maybe that was a safe move, because those sounds Sam was making? They tore through to the very core of him that would always be the big brother and protector. The part that rebelled against the thought of anyone other than him taking care of Sam when he was in this much pain.

All that time spent avoiding any unnecessary contact with Sam and now, as Sam writhed and moaned in arms that weren't his, that didn't know how to comfort Sammy the right way, how to calm him. All Dean wanted was Sam's feverish forehead beneath his own scarred palm.

The irony was not lost on him, just highly unappreciated.