I don't own Supernatural, wish I did, but I don't. So please don't sue, I have no money anyway and I'm only borrowing the brilliant characters.
Also, thanks for all the reviews, I love them.
/\-sn-/\
Just before sunset, the trees were finally silent save for the slight breeze that rustled the orange and brown leaves at the top. Sam stood in the clearing in jeans, tee shirt and zip front sweatshirt all covered in mud mostly, with a few places soaked in blood on the shirt. His breath was fast and his hands shook slightly, revealing the level of his nerves. He had just finished off the demon, which had killed twelve people in the nearby town, leaving nothing but a small pile of ash to be blown away.
He could already feel the places that would be bruises in the morning. Dried blood marked a gash just under his hairline. He wasn't worried about that. He was more concerned about Dean and the two puncture marks in Sam's own left bicep from the demon's teeth or fangs or claws – he couldn't remember which.
He looked over to where Dean lay. That thing from hell threw him against a hundred-year-old tree and he fell limp at its base. Sam watched his brother fly through the air with the sick feeling of helplessness. That was how Sam was bit, or scratched. Dean woke once just as Sam was finishing up the ritual to banish the thing back to where it came from. Dean was still conscious, but he had to fight for it.
Sam's adrenaline faded a little and he automatically started assessing their situation and making plans to improve their odds. He walked over and knelt next to Dean.
"Dean?" Sam touched his brother's shoulder. "Dean, let's go."
Dean's eyes opened and slowly focused on Sam. "You kill it?"
Sam nodded. He helped Dean to his feet and they slowly walked back to the car.
"I got good news and bad news, Sammy." Dean slowly said as they approached the car. "Good news is, I see two cars; bad news is there's also two of you."
"You're less funny with a head wound." Sam couldn't help but smile a little.
"So are you." Dean grinned.
Sam bit back a retort and helped him into the passenger seat. Dean leaned back and watched Sam walk around the car in the mirrors. Sam opened the driver's side door and pulled out a bag. He dug through the contents and pulled out a vial of clear yellow anti-venom, a syringe and an alcohol wipe. He placed the items on the trunk and took his pocketknife from his jeans.
He wiped the blade with the alcohol pad and slipped off his sweatshirt. He pushed up his sleeve and wiped the two puncture marks as well. He winced a little at the sting. He took a breath and steeled himself against the pain to come. With a slightly shaking hand he picked up the knife and placed the point just above one of the wounds. He cut down through both wounds. He bit back a groan and watched the blood drip off his arm into the leaves at his feet. He took a few breaths to calm down and tightly wrapped a bandage around his arm.
He carefully filled the syringe from the vial and flicked the air out. He pushed the needle into his arm above the wound and injected the liquid. It burned slightly and the pain from the cut sharpened some. Sam packed up the supplies and tossed the bag and his sweatshirt in the backseat.
He climbed into the car, Dean looked over at him. "What were you doing?"
"Nothing, Dean." Sam started the car and drove back to the road.
Sam kept Dean talking to assess his brother's concussion. They pulled into the motel and sat for a few seconds with the car off.
"I never thought I'd be so happy to see this place." Sam said looking at the peeling paint on their door.
"You just be happy I let you drive my car." Dean muttered and pushed open his door. "She isn't used to a girl behind the wheel."
"I should have left you in the woods." Sam got out of the car.
Sam grabbed the bags and let Dean stumble into the room himself. Sam walked into the room and saw Dean already spread out on one of the beds. He dropped the bags and sat on his own bed. His arm was throbbing where he cut it and his face felt flushed. Dean didn't need to know.
"You got a choice, Dean. Stay awake for the next two hours, or I get to wake you up every hour for the next four."
Dean's face was pressed into a flat pillow. "Sleep."
"Then you can't get pissed off at me when I wake you in an hour."
Sam set the alarm clock on his cell phone and leaned back on his bed. He closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. His arm throbbed in a way to remind him that it was a very recent injury. His body ached from the fight and he thought longingly about the bottle of over-the-counter painkillers in the bag across the room. He was a few minutes away from sleep when his cell phone alarm went off.
He muttered a curse under his breath and pushed himself up, fighting back the desire to roll over and ignore it. He also wasn't too keen on waking his brother.
He took a breath to prepare himself. "Dean."
Nothing.
"Dean." He ventured a little louder, but still staying out of reach. "Dean you have to wake up."
"Mmmm." Dean mumbled something.
"I won't leave you alone until I hear real words."
Dean sighed in a way that clearly stated his annoyance. "G'way." Was too muffled by the pillow to be understood.
"Dean."
Dean raised his head a fraction of an inch and enunciated perfectly. "I will strangle you."
"That's all I needed to hear." Sam stood and walked over to the bag.
He looked over his shoulder to make sure that Dean was out again before he pulled out the syringe and vial. He tightened a tourniquet around his uninjured arm and prepared another dose. He wiped a spot on the inside of his elbow with alcohol and watched the vein rise. He injected the liquid into his vein and pulled of the tourniquet.
A small drop of blood rose from where the needle went it. Sam pressed a square of gauze to it and bent his arm up. After a few minutes, he checked and found that it had stopped bleeding. He gently prodded the cut on his arm and found it just as tender as before. Some blood had soaked through the gauze.
He took a breath and ripped the gauze off. With regret he poured a small amount of rubbing alcohol over the wound and barely held back the gasp of pain. He took a slow breath and taped more gauze over the wound. It took a few minutes for the stinging to subside to the throbbing ache. He walked back to his bed and reset his cell phone alarm for another hour. Sam leaned back on the pillow and sighed.
"You all right, Sam?" Dean asked.
"Yeah."
"What were you doing?"
"Nothing."
Dean sat up and looked over at his brother. "You realize I know you're lying?"
Sam pushed himself up so he felt less vulnerable.
"Why's your arm bandaged?"
"It got cut." Sam answered confidently.
"How?" Dean wasn't letting it go.
"By something sharp." He paused. "How's your head?"
Dean smirked. "Fantastic, and don't change the subject."
Dean went over and took hold of Sam's arm. "Bandage is fresh." He met Sam's eyes. "Make sure it doesn't get infected. Did you clean it out?"
"I'm not stupid." Sam spat.
Dean sat on the edge of his own bed. "I know, Sammy." His voice softened.
Sam didn't even bother trying to sleep the next hour. His arm and head were throbbing too much to do much more than lay with his eyes closed. Besides, he thought with a smirk, Dean was snoring loud enough to keep the rooms on either side awake.
Three more times, Sam got up and woke Dean. Every time he gave himself another injection and every time it got harder to hide from Dean as he grew more alert. Dean knew that there was something Sam wasn't telling him, but he knew better than to press the issue.
When Sam turned from the table, Dean was sitting up on the bed.