Authors Note: Ok here's a two-shot for ya set in season 5 so minor spoilers and I mean minor. Warning for language but their Winchesters so that's to be expected. This will be in Sam's POV. Other than that just pure hurt/comfort and a case where Sam has too much time to think. Hope you enjoy and review and reply if you think it's good enough. Thanx Charity.


There was a low buzzing sound that kept rattling in his ears, it was a repitive annoyance and he figured Dean messed with the TV so it could buzz black and white fuzzies all night. He tried to nuzzle closer to the pillow but as he did so pain shot up through his skull, like lightening shatters at midnight. It was incapacitating; he felt like his brain may explode. He groaned out in discomfort as he tried to open his eyes. Why was it so hard to open his eyes?

"D'n?" He whispered because if he was hurting then Dean would make it better, he always made it better. Dean would handle it.

He started to drift into the black abyss that kept beckoning him until dripping…annoying, slow and warm splashes kept hitting his eyes and his mouth. He decided not to turn away from it due to last attempts at turning his head, but they were constant and steady. Just constant dripping. A steady stream falling into his mouth and sneaking past his closed eyelids burning his already tender eyesight.

"D'n st'p." He whined silently as he knew Dean must be playing a trick on him or trying to be a mother hen by placing one of those washcloths on his forehead to alleviate pain when he gets a migraine. He never took Dean's comfort and caring lightly but sometimes Dean would just do it to piss him off.

He cursed silently as he pried his eyes fully open ready to give Dean hell for waking him up. Once the world stopped spinning and he could see clearly he could tell he was looking through a cracked window, its spider web shape disfiguring the scenery. His best guess was that the window belonged to the Impala. Ok he was in the Impala not some bed or motel room.

What happened? He asked himself as he racked his tired brain for answers. Obviously, he crashed the Impala, as the broken window is any sign. Dean is so going to kick his ass when he finds out. Wait Dean! Oh, shit how could I forget. I wasn't driving solo Dean was in the passenger seat. Shitshitshit.

Sam tried his best to turn his head but his efforts were fruitless, his head must have smashed against the driver side window and it seems like part of his head is actually stuck in it. He swallowed back the urge to vomit at the thought of it.

"D'n." He slurred out as he attempted to awaken his brother. If his incoherent ramblings earlier didn't arise Dean then he must be in a bad way. He started to panic, as he couldn't even turn his head to see what kind of shape Dean was in. He could be dead. The thought struck a cord as past events came rushing to him making his head hurt worse.

What if Dean did die? There would be no one to stop him from saying yes to Lucifer, no one to put him down when he said yes. Shit, this isn't helping; he needed to call an ambulance.

How am I supposed to reach the phone if I can't turn my head?

That's a good question genius. He answered himself back. He snuck his arm quickly behind himself ignoring the constant throb of his head and the sting of glass digging into his skull.

He groped blindly around where his back pockets were knowing that's where his cell phone was last. "Hold on Dean." He said shakily as he wanted to comfort him any way he could. He had to be alive there was no arguing with that.

When his fingers were not meeting any purchase he gave up and let his body rest. The dripping from earlier he now knew was his own blood. He didn't want to think how much he already lost and was still continuing to lose. The worst part was he couldn't see Dean; he couldn't move his head and give that slight purchase to see his brother alive and breathing.

He screwed up again, like all the other times in his life. He doesn't know why Dean doesn't disown him by now. He has fucking Lucifer hot on his trail and Dean still will not give up on him. He doesn't want to think of all the times he gave up on Dean, on all the times he walked out on him, just sat down and quit.

Dean could be already dead for all he knows while he sat here playing pity party. Angry tears of frustration rolled down his face mixing with the blood. "I'm sorry." He choked out as the tears continued to come. "I'm sorry I'm a screw up." He smiled sadly, as the pain from his head became too much and finally the blackness came to consume him.


The same buzzing noise from before hit his ears, he knew he passed out. That wasn't any good, how long had it been since they been here? He quickly tried to turn his head but regretted it as the glass sliced away at the tender skin on his face.

"Ow…shit!" He cursed as he settled again. The throb in his skull began its steady beat, coming in tune with his heartbeat. He was losing too much blood he knew if he didn't get to a phone quick then he and Dean would be dead meat. If Dean was still alive.

"Dean can you hear me?"

Silence. He began to panic, as he didn't know where his phone was, if it wasn't in his back pocket it could be anywhere. "Let's try this again." He murmured to himself as he began to maneuver his arm behind himself to see if he just missed the first time.

He contorted his right arm as best as he could feeling all the possible places it could have gone. He almost gave up until his fingers brushed against cool metal. He squawked with joy at the find but that was until he noticed how far back it was. It was on the other side of his body and he couldn't move his other arm, he had a bad feeling he broke something in it and the pain in his skull was just dulling the pain in his arm.

He had to put his long arms to the greatest test. He thought to himself, Dean would get a laugh out of that. Dean.

He set his jaw in determination as he stretched his arm across his back. He gave out a grunt of discomfort, as the muscles in his right arm weren't agreeing with his actions but he had to reach that phone, he had to save Dean.

He could feel his fingers were lightly brushing it, if only he could get a grasp on it. He pushed harder as he tried to reach his entire hand around it. "Come on." He chanted with frustration, as it was only millimeters away. He could feel it he just couldn't get a good enough hold on it.

His fingers were curling around it as he slightly shifted to reach it better. Bad idea. The pain in his head rose and it caused a jolt to go through his body thus knocking the phone farther back. "Shit!" He cursed as he let his body fall back against the seat groaning against the discomfort of his arm still being in the uncomfortable position.

"I'm sorry Dean, I'm trying." He apologized weakly as all he could see was the land outside through the spider web of cracked glass.

He went back to work again and he pushed his arm behind his body. He knew he knocked the phone further back and he risked injuring this arm too if he tried to reach it but he do it. If Dean was willing to take him back from starting the fucking apocalypse then he could at least injure and arm for him in return.

He felt sweat drip down his face, he didn't even know if it was sweat or blood anymore they both mixed so fluently. He cringed as he pushed his arm further still not finding the cell phone. Just how far back did I knock it? He groped around with his fingers still only feeling leather until they felt metal. He prayed up above as he reached further. He could feel his right arm was being pushed way past its limits but what else does he have to lose. If he die's he'll just be brought back to life right?

He inched close as his fingers began to curl around the phone he cried out as it felt like his shoulder was tearing into two. It was now or never. He gave one last push and curled his whole hand around the phone. He screamed in agony as he felt the familiar sensation of his shoulder dislocating. "Oh God." He panted as he just sat there letting tears stream down his face. He had to move his shoulder though to get the cell phone. Shit.

He slowly began to bring his arm back to the front. "Mmmm." He had no other words to say his shoulder became the focus now. His head picked up its beat his left arm was numb which he knew wasn't good. He was scared he was going to pass out again.

He couldn't, he wouldn't. Not with Dean, still unconscious. He can't be dead, God don't let him be dead.

He brought his injured limb to rest against his lap. "I di..d it De..an." He stuttered out as he let out a quick breath.

Now what do I do?

Call 911 right. How am I supposed to do that with two messed up arms? Shit.

That's becoming his new favorite word, as things just keep getting better and better. Why the hell do I have to be right handed? Why the hell would it matter I can't see to make a call anyway? I can't even turn my head!

Sam gave a tired sigh as he gave up arguing with himself he had to feel for the numbers then make a call as best as he could. His love for his brother could do no less, what does he have to lose right? He's been saying that a lot lately too.

He opened up the phone with difficulty trying his best not to aggravate his shoulder, and he felt across the pad for the right numbers hoping he dialed 911. He put the phone to his ear and waited for someone to pick up.


Hello 911 what's your emergency?

What was that noise? He was trying to sleep can't people let him sleep?

Hello 911 what's your emergency?

There is was again, boy was he tired. Why can't Dean take care of these people? He sure did have a headache and his shoulder hurt. I wonder why my shoulder hurts? I can't even feel my other arm.

Sir are you there?

"Hur'ts." He moaned out as the pain ate away at him like nothing he's ever felt before. He may be over exaggerating but by God he hurt and he was going to tell someone. Where was Dean?

Sir I need to know where you are and then we'll get you help?

"Mmmm." Dean will take care of it he always does. Sam fell back into unconsciousness with the voice getting faint and faint as he faded away.

"Don't worry sir stay on the line we'll track your call. Help will be there soon."


Sam awoke to outside voices and people rattling on the windows. Windows? Rattling? What the hell is going on? He opened his eyes slowly to notice he was still in the Impala, but there were people all around them tinkering at the doors. Dean! He screamed but he realized he hasn't seen Dean since the accident. Where was Dean?

"D'n?" He blurted out but there was too many voices all there voices were mixing and meshing and telling him too calm down or Dean's ok.

He didn't know if Dean was ok until he saw him with his own two eyes. Of course, that's somewhat hard when your heads stuck in a window. They were fiddling with his shoulder and his left arm, telling him Dean would be taken care of. It wasn't until they began to remove his head from the window that the pain was too much. He blacked out probably for what was a third time and only hoped that Dean was ok and that he hadn't failed like he did his whole life.