Author's Note: Hey guys, this is my first story in a long time, so try to be gentle with your criticism, Reviews=Motivation
Sam squeezed his brother, his mentor's hand. He smiled warmly down at Dean, laying in a hospital bed, bruises marring that face, a jagged, angry red line on his face where the werewolf had raked his claw over his cheek. Sam spoke to Dean, a soft, worried tone in his voice. "What were you thinking, running head first into it. You should have known that it was a trap Dean." Dean groaned and rolled his eyes at Sam, his cheek feeling as if there was a fire coursing through the mark on his skin, his head hurting so much it felt as if someone were constantly beating in his skull with a hammer. He wouldn't let Sam see how much pain he was in. He couldn't let Sam see.
Dean rolled onto his side, biting back a grimace and looked at Sam. "I knew what I was doing Sammy, I wasn't going to let that werewolf get you. Which is what would've happened had I not thrown myself at him, because you would've tried to help me." He bit his lip when Sam looked down at his feet, his eyes welling with tears at the pain he was in, he blinked them away and laid back down on his back, satisfied Sam wasn't going to try and reprimand him again. He closed his eyes, not sleeping, but not wanting to look at the florescent light overhead.
The door in the corner of the room opened and the doctor walked in. He looked at Dean and noticed that his eyes were closed. Assuming that Dean was sleeping, he spoke softly to Sam. "Your brother looks like he just went through hell and back, but he's going to be alright. The car accident roughed him up considerably Mr. Jenkins, he has 4 cracked ribs and he should probably stay off his right ankle for a good week, but otherwise, he should be good to be released soon. We will keep him here for observation overnight, but he can leave when the doctor in the morning deems him ready for discharge." Neil turned around and walked out of the room, scoffing under his breath at the obvious show of affection between the brothers, it was sickening in his opinion.
Sam, running his thumb across the back of Dean's hand, sighed heavily and leaned back in the least comfortable chair he'd ever had the
displeasure of sitting in. It didn't matter where he was sitting, he would stay beside Dean's side, he'd taken care of Sam so many times in the past, practically raised him from birth because of their father's obsession with the demon that had killed their mother. He was everything to Sam, his mentor, his savior, his best friend. He closed his eyes, laying his head down on Dean's hand, feeling the drowsiness begin to take him into it's warm embrace, it had been 2 solid days since he'd slept, not wanting to sleep when Dean was in the hospital, too worried about his well being. He breathed Dean's name, and with that fell into slumber's embrace.
Dean breathed a sigh of relief, listening to Sam's breaths begin to become rhythmic and deeper. It had been too long since the kid had slept. He would never tell Sam this but even though his face was now coated in stubble and he hadn't slept in the full two days they'd been here, Dean was very happy to have been taken care of. It made him feel warm inside, something he couldn't describe. For months now Dean had known that he wanted Sam. He was having problems keeping it back, but he would not do anything like that. He wouldn't corrupt his Sammy like that, he couldn't. Sam was too innocent and they were brothers for god's sakes. Dean mentally slapped himself, I shouldn't be thinking like this. Dean didn't move his hand out from Sam's head, instead he gently stroked the giant's face, enjoying the way the stubble felt beneath his fingers. He stopped moving his hand, his eyes feeling all of a sudden very heavy, it had been a while since he'd slept as well, not wanting to leave Sam alone. He shrugged, figuring if Sam was sleeping, he should be able to as well. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep almost suddenly, his sleep for once, not plagued by his memories of his time in hell.
He woke up to the sound of the Impala, the sound of the engine going. The soft purr of the vehicle which Dean had rebuilt from the ground up when they'd been in that accident with the transport. It had been an awfully hard last little while, dealing with the death of John. Dean remembered everything in detail, the accident, the hospital, the reaper coming for him, but most of all, what John had told him about Sammy, about what he would have to do. About what his father had instructed him to do. Dean had never defied his father before, but he didn't know if he had it in him to go through with John's order. It was horrible, it made Dean's blood cold just thinking about it. He would never be able to kill him Sammy, not if he were possessed or even if he were trying to kill Dean himself. Sure maybe a few thrown swings but never kill him. Pushing the thought out of his mind he sat up in the back of the car.
He moved around, his shoulders feeling very stiff and looked into the front of the car, noticing that he was laying in the back, with a blanket draped over him. Sam was behind the wheel, singing along with some gay song on the radio. Dean groaned and leaned into the front of the car, switching the stereo to the tape that was in. He began playing the air drums when the familiar sounds of AC DC pounded out of the stereo, his smile widening when Sam looked back at him with a soft smile. "I see you're awake, that's good, you've been sleeping for 2 and a half days now, I was worried I'd have to take you to see Bobby. You were sleeping like the dead."
Dean looked out the window of the Impala, his eyes widening. "Hey, why are we here? Are we going to see Bobby after all?" Dean recognized the landscape around him, they were headed out in the direction of Bobby's scrap yard. Sam spoke to him from the front, practically yelling over the music blasting through the car. With a sigh, he cranked the knob all the way to the left, muting the ear piecing sounds of Angus' voice and spoke to Dean softly now. "Bobby says he has something of a special hunt that he needs our help on. I know that you're still down for the count but I figured.." Dean reached into the front and clapped Sam on his overgrown shoulder. "Thanks Sammy, I could use a fresh hunt, forget all about that one. Get me back on my game, you know?" He kicked his feet up on the center console and closed his eyes, not sleeping, just enjoying the car ride. Not driving for once was actually refreshing, maybe he'd let Sam drive more often.
The drive wasn't very long, and soon they were passing the maze of vehicles which led to the house of their friend and something of a parent, Bobby Singer. Sam pulled the Impala in the driveway and turned the vehicle off, the engine cut, the area was silent, a little bit too quiet, the familiar sounds of things happening around them when they were at Bobby's weren't heard. Sam's eyes narrowed, he passed Dean one of the pistols Remembering the Doctor's orders of Dean not being aloud to be on his ankle for up to a week or recovery, Sam motioned at Dean to stay in the vehicle. Dean just rolled his eyes and silently crept out of the car, moving around it, hiding behind it for protection. He slowly crept up the stairs, Dean directly on his heels. Sam tried the door, only to find it locked. He swore under his breath, sure that Bobby would be making them pay for the door, and with some honest worked money, so that the account wouldn't bounce when he tried to pay for it. He raised his leg and kicked the door with all of his force. Sam had been hopped up on demon blood this last while, so the door not only was torn off the hinges but flew across the room, crashing into one of the walls and splintering. He looked back at Dean with a sheepish grin and advanced, checking each corner with meticulous care, making sure that nothing would be getting the jump on them. He pointed for Dean to take the other entrance to room and slowly moved into the kitchen. He barreled around the corner, only to trip over something solid beneath him. Sam quickly rolled to his heels, only to find Bobby, laying on the ground, blood coming from the corner of his mouth.
