A/N: For some reason I love a hurt Dean and a protective and comforting Sam. So I decided to make an ABC of Dean whumps. Starting of course, with "A".

Title: A - Ankle

'See? You worry too much.' Dean picked up the salt and handed it to Sam. Sam opened the can and poured the salt onto the bones.

The case had been pretty easy. A man, who had just gotten out of jail for murdering someone, was killed in his house. It wasn't hard to find out who had done that and they had gone to the cemetery right away. And until this moment, they hadn't encountered the ghost. Just yet.

'It's too easy Dean, why haven't we seen the spirit yet?' Sam asked. Dean cursed as his lighter didn't work again.

'Because he just wanted to kill that man and not his entire family? I don't know Sam, just be glad he's not here.' Sam sighed and emptied the can. Easy talking for Dean, he never worried.

'Come on stupid thing,' Dean mumbled. His 10th attempt to fire up the lighter failed and he cursed again.

'There are matches in the car,' Sam suggested. Dean shot him an angry look. Sam just grinned.

'I'll go get them.' Sam turned away from the grave when he felt the temperature drop. He quickly turned around and glanced at Dean, who nodded. They searched the graveyard, but there was no spirit.

'Dean..'

'Just get the matches.'

And there he was. Joe "the bull". That's what his friends and coach had called him. He had been a professional kickboxer, and he got his nickname from his coach. He had given him this name because once he had a goal, he wouldn't stop for anything.

He was dressed in the clothes he had been murdered, in this case his kickbox-trainig clothes. It looked kinda funny, because he was just wearing colorful shorts.

Dean couldn't help but chuckle.

'Dude, you're in your boxers,' he said grinning. The grin was quickly wiped off his face when the man stared at him angrily.

'Uhoh, I might have pissed him off.'

'You think Dean?'

Dean swallowed. He was only holding a spade, which wouldn't do any good against a spirit. His shotgun was on the ground next to him, but he didn't dare taking his eyes off the man.

Joe stepped forward, his eyes focused on Dean. So this was how it was like to be the target of a bull. Dean could feel his heart beat in his chest.

'Sam. Get the matches. And get them fast!' Before Sam could protest, Dean turned around on his heel and started to run as fast as he could. He didn't look back, but he didn't need to; he knew Joe was right behind him.

Sam was startled for a second when Dean took off. The spirit followed him blindly, not paying any attention to Sam. When Dean made a sharp turn to the left and disappeared into the night, Sam started to move. He ran towards the car, hoping he would find the matches. Luckily, they were found quickly, and Sam hurried back to the grave.

In the meantime, Dean was still running. His muscles ached, but he couldn't slow down. He made some turns in the hope it would slow down Joe. Unfortunately, the spirit was in good shape. Well, for a dead man. By the time Dean was breathing heavily, the spirit showed no sign of tiredness.

Dean turned around a tree and was almost surprised by a gravestone right in front of him. At the last second, he jumped and avoided it. But it had slowed him down just a second, and Joe was getting closer. Oh Sam please hurry! Dean thought. He decided to go back to the grave and if he had to, get his lighter to work again so he could burn the bones. He turned left again and headed straight for the grave. Just around that tree he'd find Sam and the grave.

He decided to make a sharp turn around the tree. But when he turned around the tree he didn't see the hole in the ground. His right foot got stuck in it, and with a cry he slammed into the ground. The fall knocked all air out of him. Gasping for air, he felt hands on his neck. Cold hands. Joe's hands. He tried to fight off the hands, but he could barely move. Sammy!

Sam lit up a match when he heard the cry. Dean was in trouble! But he had no time to go and check. The best way to help him was to get rid of the spirit. He dropped the match and stepped back. Within a second, the bones were on fire, and he could hear the Joe's cry. Sam sighed of relief. Next thing on his list was checking up on Dean.

He found Dean not far away from the grave. He lay on the ground on his stomach and didn't move. Sam held his breath while he rushed towards his brother.

'Dean, are you okay?' Dean groaned and looked up.

'Perfect timing Sammy,' he said grinning and he spat out a mouthful of grass.

'Were you hungry?' Sam laughed.

'Shut up bitch,' Dean laughed back. He moved, but suddenly groaned again and rested his head on one arm. Sam's smile disappeared and his relieved feeling made place for worry.

'Dean?' Dean took a deep breath.

'It's my foot. I can't move it,' he grunted. Sam kneeled next to his brother's right foot.

'It's stuck in a hole,' Sam stated. He carefully touched the ankle, but as soon as his fingers touched the skin, Dean groaned.

'Stop Sam, it hurts.'

'Do you want me to get your foot out of this hole or not?' Sam said sighing. Dean mumbled something unintelligible, then he sighed as well.

'Fine. But be careful.' Sam rolled his eyes. Of course he'd be careful.

He grabbed the ankle softly with one hand, with the other his heel. Very slowly, he started to pull, but he stopped when Dean cried out.

'Stop stop! Dammit it hurts Sam! What the hell are you doing to my foot!'

'Don't be such a baby, I'm just pulling a little bit.' He pulled again, but once again Dean cried out in pain. Sam frowned and let go of the foot.

'Perhaps it's broken,' he mumbled, more to himself than to Dean. He turned on his flashlight and inspected the ankle.

It was very swollen, and a purple-blueish color. Next to the bump of the calf bone was another bump that did not belong there.

'Yeah, that's definitely broken,' Sam said and Dean cursed. He knew it was going to hurt a lot, but Sam had to pull his foot out of the hole.

'Just..just do it fast okay?' he said in a low voice. Sam felt bad for him, but there was no other way. He carefully grabbed the ankle and heel again.

'On the count of 3. 1..' And he pulled. Dean screamed and cursed, even using words Sam had never heard before. With one hand he hit the ground repeatedly while he rested his head on the other. He breathed heavily and too fast, and Sam knew he was close to fainting.

'Stay with me okay? I'll help you the car and drive you to the hospital,' Sam said to comfort Dean. He just groaned in response. Sam turned Dean around, who did all he could not to move the foot. Sam pulled him up and wrapped an arm around him, grabbing a loop of his pants. Dean put his arm on Sam's shoulder and bit his lip. He was not going to admit he was in a lot of pain.

But Sam had noticed. They made their first step towards the car, a step for Sam and a hop for Dean, and a soft whimper escaped Dean's lips. Even not doing anything hurt like hell, and hopping made it even worse. After 3 steps Dean was breathing faster again and he dug his fingers in Sam's shoulder every time they moved. After another step, Sam couldn't handle seeing his brother in this much pain anymore.

'It'll take days before we get to the car,' he began. Dean wiped away the sweat on his forehead. He was exhausted and just wanted to sit down of chop of his leg. But he couldn't tell Sam.

'I'll go faster,' he breathed. Sam shook his head.

'That will only make it hurt you more. And you might mess up your ankle pretty bad so you'll never be able to walk again and save my ass,' he added the last sentence quickly. He knew Dean would never let him carry the man if it was just for his own good. He noticed the hesitation.

'Dean, please. You don't have to feel embarrassed, no-one's here. And I'm getting cold out here.' To his surprise, Dean gave in quickly. He nodded, but once again bit his lip and did not look Sam in the eyes. Sam let go of his pants and now wrapped this arm around his back, the other underneath Dean's knees. This was going to be heavy, but he had no choice.

When he lifted Dean of the ground, he heard him groan and curse, but Sam doubted whether it was because of his ankle or the position he was in.

When they reached the car and Sam had put Dean down carefully, Dean didn't say a word and got in the car. While driving to the hospital, Sam shot Dean some worried looks.

'Dean-' he started, but he was cut off.

'Don't. Just don't.'

The rest of the drive they were silent. Even in the hospital they barely talked. Sam explained what happened, "his foot got stuck in a hole and he fell" which was for once the truth, and Dean just sat silently. His ankle was broken in 2 places and had to be put back into place. They gave him something against the swelling and the pain and he had to stay the night. The next morning, they gave him cast and put him on painkillers and he could go home.

When Sam entered his room, Dean was staring vaguely to the wall.

'Dean? You ready to go?' Dean looked at him unfocused.

'Sammy?' he asked in a high voice. He was on way to many painkillers.

'I'm right here Dean.' Dean smiled and held out his arms like a baby who wants to be picked up. Sam stepped closer and awkwardly accepted the hug.

'Thank you so much Sammy,' Dean said.

Sam just hoped Dean would remember this moment. He laughed at picturing Dean's face when he brought this up again. That'd be funny.

Reviews are welcome :) Suggestions for letters as well