Sam sighed softly as he slid his supplies into his backpack then zipped it up while saying quick goodbyes to his classmates that passed by. Shutting his locker, he took a deep breath and slung his bag onto his shoulder before walking outside. There had been a feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach, that hadn't left all afternoon. It made him worry since he only felt it when Dean and their dad were on a hunting trip for a couple of days.

Sure, Sam knew his brother could take care of himself and their dad could, too, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

When he got closer to the parking lot, heading towards his usual bus, Sam noticed a familiar Impala parked close by. His eyes widened in surprise and he immediately changed directions, hurrying over to the car. Growing closer, he watched as his brother stepped out of the driver's side with a slight smirk on his lips.

"Hey there, Sammy," Dean's voice was warm, but gruff as he spoke and Sam hadn't realized just how much he missed the sound of his voice. He possibly would have tackled Dean into a hug, but resisted that urge when he saw the bruises on his brother's face and a bandage peeking out from beneath the sleeve of Dean's leather jacket. Not to mention, Sam noticed the brief wince and limp when Dean took a few steps towards him. It made his own steps falter.

"What the hell happened to you?"

A low chuckle was heard from Dean as Sam walked past him to chuck his bag into the backseat through open driver's side door. He turned back around just in time to see Dean shake his head before looking back at him.

"It's not a bit deal, Sammy. Just a few scratches," he replied, trying to reassure his little brother, "I'm fine."

"Yeah, right," Sam scoffed, obviously not buying Dean's bullshit excuse, before moving around the passenger's side of the car. Of course, he should have expected this. Of course, Dean would show up with a few injuries and pretend to be fine, no matter how bad they were. Sam heard his brother sigh heavily as he got into the car and buckled in, waiting for Dean to get in and take him back to the shit motel he and their father left him at.

There was complete silence when Dean slid back into the car and started the ignition. It didn't end until Dean spoke first about halfway to the motel.

"I screwed up during a hunt and got hurt, alright? Dad told me to leave so he could finish it alone," his voice was low and pained as he glanced over at Sam, who turned his head from looking out the window to look at Dean.

"What? You rarely ever screw up during a case, Dean," he replied with confusion laced in his words. How could Dean mess up so bad that their dad had to send him home?

"Yeah, well, I did."

Silence fell over them again as they got closer to the motel. Sam leaned over the back of the seat to grab his backpack and unbuckled as Dean parked before getting out. Once inside, Sam tossed his bag onto one of the beds and tugged at his brother's sleeve.

"Take it off."

Dean's eyebrow arched and he chuckled, smirking a bit when he replied, "If you wanted to get me naked, Sammy, all you had to do was ask." Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged off his own jacket before tossing it onto the bed with his backpack.

"I meant, take off your jacket. I saw the bandage you failed to hide and I need to check the wound, jerk," he moved to the duffle bag that was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, pulling out their first aid kit, "Knowing you, you probably didn't treat it properly."

"Bitch."

Ignoring Dean's comment, Sam went back to his brother as he watched him slip off his leather jacket and plaid shirt to reveal the bandage on Dean's arm before the older male sat down on the empty bed. Sam eyed him whilst sitting down beside him and opening the kit.

"What were you and dad hunting exactly?"

"A werewolf. Well, two or three."

"I'm surprised you made back with what injuries you have," Sam muttered as he removed the bandage, noticing that his assumptions were almost correct. Apparently, Dean did actually clean it properly, but he just didn't stitch it up. His breathing hitched slightly at the length and depth of the wounds before he took out a needle and thread.

The two sat in silence as Sam concentrated on stitching Dean up. With how many times he had done this before—which were more than he cared to admit—it didn't take him long to finish. When he was nearly done, he could practically feel Dean's intense gaze then he paused, lifting his head. Green eyes connected with hazel and Sam left out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked in a soft tone, his eyes never leaving Dean's. He watched as his brother shook his head and looked away. A tiny feeling of frustration formed inside of him and he turned his head back to the wound, finishing the treatment.

As soon as he was done, he wrapped a clean bandage around Dean's arm and moved it onto his brother's lap to show he was finished. Despite having taken care of it, Sam felt the feeling of worry bubble up and replace the frustration he felt. Dean look at him and Sam just stared. His eyes trailing over every inch of Dean's bruised face. He noticed a few tiny scratches on him and saw how the bruises contrasted with the freckles that littered the bridge of Dean's nose and cheeks.

Without thinking about it, he lifted a hand to cup his brother's cheek, his thumb lightly brushing against the bruise that rested there while feeling Dean wince slightly because of it. That's when it all comes pouring out.

"You know, I'm actually pretty scared that you'll go with dad on another hunt and he'll be the only one to come back. I'm afraid that one day, I won't be there to help and you'll be gone."

Dean's eyes widened from Sam's confession and how quiet his voice was before his expression softened, leaning his face into his little brother's hand while keeping their eyes locked. Sam's eyes were glistening and he let out a shaky breath before Dean spoke.

"Sammy…"

He then reached his uninjured arm up and carded his fingers through Sam's hair, gently tugging his head forward until their foreheads rested against each other. He watched as Sam's eyes closed before his little brother let out a choke sob.

"I-I love you too much to let you die, Dee…" Sam whispered in a broken tone and Dean took a deep breath, beginning to comb his fingers through soft brown locks, "...I don't want to lose you."

"Don't worry, Sammy. I'm not going anywhere."

Sam opened his eyes and a few small tears escaped, "Promise?"

Dean nodded and leaned in, whispering a reply against Sam's lips before kissing his brother in a gentle manner.

"Promise."