(2005)
Sam dove forward, hands reaching out to grab the one scrabbling on the ground. The man's sweaty palm rested on him, bloodied from the jagged rocks surrounding the cliff; Sam reached for the hand and ignored the sounds of fighting coming from behind him, trusting Dean to take care of the werewolf.

With a heave he brought the man forward and away from edge. A headache pricked the corners of his mind as he swiped his hand across his mouth, grimacing at the taste of metallic blood.

Looking down he sighed as he saw the unconscious man's head lolling and gently pushed him to the ground, picking himself up to grab his shotgun and take aim.

The bullet rang through the air with an unforgiving sound and silenced the creatures snarls. Sam always made sure to end it so that the silver couldn't contract the beast and let the person's confused mumbling come out. It was as much for selfish reason's as anything else, to try and ignore the fact that they were killing a basically innocent person.

Dean shook his head of the fight and smirked at him from across the clearing, white teeth shining in the moonlight. He jerked his head around and glanced at the now groaning man and asked with a shrug of his shoulder.

"He okay?"

Sam smiled, grateful for something good. "Yeah, few cuts and bruises, but he's alright."

Dean got a relieved gleam in his eye and both of the brothers went forward to pick the man up, taking him to the car and driving him home. The thankful babbling was oddly missing and the man had an almost scared look in his eyes as they left.

When they went back to the car, ready to start the hunt for a Chupacabra up north, neither of them saw the man's eyes flicker through the window, glancing at his palm to the corner of Sam's mouth where the barest hint of red remained.

Sam groaned, rolling over in the scratchy sheets the motel provided. He felt the foot prod him a little harder this time and kicked out, hearing a satisfying grunt when it hit something solid.

His blessed darkness was taken away by the covers being pulled down past his head and he looked up at his looming brother with a squint.

"Go 'way."

The smirk faded slightly and a frown filled the worn face. "Dude, you sick? Cause I won't be putting my ass on the line for an invalid."

Sam swatted at him tiredly. "I'm just a little nauseous it's nothing." He sighed when he felt a cold hand placed on his forehead and resigned himself to the worry in Dean's eyes.

"You're burning up. You get to stay here and I'll take care of the hunt this time."

None of Sam's protests reached his brothers ears and he soon found himself burrowed under the blankets, watching the fuzzy screen of the television.

Four days later, his flu was gone and they were back on the road.

(2013)
Sam leaned back, frowning at the amber bottle in his grasp. He was thirty today, it wasn't really that much of a change, but the mental barriers were huge.

He could remember looking up at his father on his thirtieth birthday when he was very young. He felt old. Regardless of the fact that Dean was thirty- four and still as virile and active as he was before.

Dean still teased him as he quickly gained in the weight lifting department, but Sam could see the panic in his eyes as he fell to bouts of coughing and weakness.

He had been pestering him to go to the doctors for weeks, but Sam lashed out from that.

His father had died in the hospital, the sterile walls wouldn't help Dean when he was dying. He had seen countless victims die under their watch and turn ignorant eyes when clearly unusual symptoms befell them.

He didn't very much like doctors. Though even he had to admit that something might be off when his waist trimmed to anorexic proportions and he found himself fatigued more often than not.

His wound was still open from the last hunt.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose he turned off the light and settled the shotgun across his knees, watching for creature he knew would appear tonight.

Dean held open the door for him, scarred hand resting at the small of his back. "There you go, Sammy, make sure not to trip." Sam scowled at his brothers overly- sweetened voice but heard seriousness under it and refrained from snapping.

He walked stiffly down the narrow halls of the town's clinic and waited impatiently for the doctor, Dean's tapping foot and constant speech carrying him through the minutes.

When the Doctor opened the door he smiled with a kind eye and began asking a series of questions about his symptoms. As the time flew past, the frown became more pronounced and silence soon followed.

Rising with creaking bones the man paced for a moment before coming to a stop in front of him.

"Mr. Gregory, I think you may have a serious illness; which very well might not be the case, but we would like to run a few tests, just in case."

Sam swallowed, feeling Dean stand behind him, and nodded.

"Just in case."

(2015)
Dean stood, staring unbelieving at the trembling body his brother made, small beneath the sheets. He often was decorated with a sheen sweat and bruises and Dean had made him stop hunting years ago.

Before they had found out, they had continued the hunt for the demon which killed their mother and still hunted on the side, settling into lives of constant movement.

His brothers weakening state had been a hinder and Dean had been considering making him drop from the fight long before he was diagnosed. When he was though, Dean had ceased it completely, but Sam had once more persuaded him to let him go.

And that was that.

Sam stared uncomprehending at his brothers lined face, panic hovering beneath the surface. The hunt had been for a reaper, and it had been attracted to Sam. Dean had sent it away, but not before it had done it's number on him.

Sam had been hovering on the edge of death for years now, this had merely nudged him other.

As he tightly wove his fingers through his brothers, trying not to be affected by the open pleading coming from Dean, he turned his head to the side.

He couldn't help but appreciate the irony of it; they hunted things which killed those stronger than them on a daily basis and had faced death literally more than once. And he was brought down by AIDS.

The humans had monsters too, it seemed.