I'm back guys!

And this, this is... a... challenge-kind-of-thing. I just want to add few words to this introduction:

Delirious/Limp Sam, Angst, Hurt/Comfort... I think you get the picture.

At Soncnica! Just for you girl! Just for you ;) Thanks for... just everything.

Love,
BUG

I don't own them. But I do love to write them. Thanks for that, Kripke.

Soldier, Soldier

Fire illuminated the night, making the shadows dance. There was war in the streets tonight. Good versus evil. Light versus darkness. But the barriers blended. Everyone knew it and with every day the conflict continued, with every soul lost in this warfare white turned a little more into grey...

He had been here for three years now…him and his brother. Three years of watching people die, people being shot, people screaming to just let them die… three years of constant fear for his life. For his brother's life.

He crouched there, amidst the chaos around him, pressed against one of the destroyed cars, his breath coming in fast little, adrenaline-induced gasps. Smell of sulphur hung heavily in the air, making every inhale torture, but in the end it didn't matter. What mattered, was that he had to find his brother. His brother, who was missing ever since another of their foe's lightning-attack.

He looked down his torn, khaki-colored shirt and camouflaged combat-trousers, wincing at the blood-splatters that covered him. He didn't know who those blood splatters belonged to. Maybe they were from that man who got shot last night and the blood all but splashed his trousers. Or maybe it was from two days ago when he barely escaped an attack with only a bullet grazing his forearm.

He ducked as nearby another set of shots disturbed the night.

„Damnit!" Swallowing, he took a deep breath and decided he couldn't stay there any longer. It wasn't safe. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die here of all places. Hell on Earth as it was called. He only wanted to find his brother. Find him safe, bring him back to their camp, share a beer and forget – THIS – at least for a couple of hours. He wanted that.

Pushing to his feet he started to sprint. Shots accompanied his run, and he zigzagged over the open place, head pulled between his shoulders, trying not to offer an all-to-easy target.

The archway was almost there as he felt something bite into his skin, but he ignored the small ripple of pain as he forced himself to move faster, stumbling head over toe through the archway and into the dark court behind it, crashing to the ground. His legs pulled up as the pain hit and he felt the unmistakable tang of blood on his lips.

„Nnnngghhh!" he felt warm, sticky moisture soak into his shirt on his belly, his hand clutching at the gaping wound...

"Fuck, shit, no, no, no, no…" he breathed. No! Not like this. Not like this.

„Sammy..."

„Deee..." it was so difficult to breathe suddenly, the pressure on his stomach growing.

„Hold on... hold on..."

„Hurts..." he writhed, tried to hide away from the pain.

„Shh.... shhh... Sammy... stop fighting me. Open your eyes dude..."

He didn't remember closing his eyes in the first place, but as he blinked them open, he found himself staring right into his brother's green orbs, his face hovering over him with a smear of blood right on Dean's face.

He wasn't in the court anymore, in fact never had been. His breath hitched again, as the pressure he felt grew even worse.

„Ahh... s-stop..." He gasped, felt his eyes roll back into his head.

Could feel his brother's hands on him, screaming his name...

„Sammy..." blinking open, harsh over-head lights almost blinded him. His eyes moved sluggishly, not able to keep up with the movement of the gurney he lay on.

„Sammy... C'mon buddy! Stay awake... stay with me here..." he blinked again, his head moving ever so slightly, coming to a rest at someone running beside him, touching his shoulder as he was whiskered down the long corridor.

„Dee?" What the hell happened? He could remember searching for his brother. Being alone. Being shot. Oh god it hurts! His stomach! How did they find him? How did Dean find him? How? Where? It was all so confusing.

The smile his brother offered him showed his real concern.

„Dean?" he repeated, feeling tired and weightless... so weightless. His eyes slowly closed shut and he felt himself drift, as he ignored everything around him; the frantic shouts, the commotion.......

„Sammy! Please!" Dean!

It required incredible strength to re-open his eyes and when he did, he met his brother's intense greens as his face hovered over him. Dean's face was a mess of blood and dirt. His hair was stuck to his forehead, his lower lip was split open and his neck was covered with sweat.

His eyes skittered down his brother's chest to see a blue shirtwith specks of blood there and somehow he found all of this funny.

„Why... d'ya wearing scrubs?" he slurred, watching his brother's smile wipe from his face.

„I'm gonna help them..." he could see Dean choke on the words. „We're out of the good stuff, bro... and they need..."

„Are you ready?" A bodiless voice interrupted his brother's words.

Dean closed his eyes shortly. „Would you give me a second? Let me explain to him what's gonna happen..."

„Dee..." he whispered, confusion evident in the soft calling of his brother's name, "what?"

Dean's concentration snapped back to his brother's face and he took a deep breath before continuing his explanation. „... they need to get the bullet out of you Sammy..."

And almost as soon as the words were out Sam's world exploded into a fiery pain filled haze.

„Dean!"

A hand held his head in a cradle and his senses were assaulted by the smell of leather, gun-powder and oil.

„Shhh, I got ya... we're almost there... hold on, Sammy. Hold on."

„Dean..." his hands clutched for his brother's shirt, holding on in no intent of ever letting go, trying to shuffle closer. He whimpered in pain as it exploded and ran in waves up and down his spine.

„H'rts..." he keened, feeling suddenly cold, so cold.

„Damnit! Bobby would ya just hit the gas? He's going into shock!"

„Dee... si..." and before Sam managed to choke the word out he started to heave, ripples of pain coursing through his body. Blinking against the dark spots that made it almost impossible to see now he saw the bright red he had spew down his brother's front.

„Oh my... Bobby! Faster!"

He could feel the blood he just vomited on the side of his face as his brother wrapped his arms around him to hold him close.

„I won't let you go... hold on Sammy... 'm here... just a few more minutes. I won't let you go..."

„Sammy..."

A choked gurgle and hands that gripped his shirt, held on tightly brought him back to the here and now. His heart beat frantic as he held on the quivering and shaking form on the gurney.

„Hold him! We're almost done!" he kept one arm over his brother's shoulder, felt all the pain accumulate there as his brother shook under his palms, his other hand kept free to run it through the soft, damp, short-cropped hair.

His hand continued the soothing movements, although he wasn't entirely sure Dean could feel them at all.

One thing he knew for sure: This shouldn't be happening like this. It was strange, almost as if he could feel his brother's pain.

„Shh, stay calm..." he soothed as he felt the muscles in Dean's shoulder and chest bunch and roll.

„Almost done. It's almost done..." Once again he could almost feel the pain peak and it was followed by a hollow „pling" as the bullet landed in one of the kidney-shaped bowls.

Dean went limp under him and for a moment the room swayed in and out of focus, right before his brother bucked up under him, gagging and retching, blood spewed out in a huge, forceful fountain.

He was hit in the chest, felt the warm liquid run down the front of his scrubs and then the taste of blood on his lips, the tang torturing his taste-buds. Dean choked again, more blood running down his chin... no Sam's chin... he could feel it... another lurch in reality forced Sam to stumble back and away from Dean on the gurney. His hands lifting to touch his face, coming away bloody...

„Sam-my..." he watched in horror as Dean tried to sit up, blood running in rivulets down his brother's chin, and from the gaping wound in his belly. The cacophony of hospital-sounds dimmed down and their surrounding faded away as Dean took his first step.

„No... no... not Dean..." he whispered, not able to move as his brother lifted his arms in his direction.

„Sam-my... please..."

„Not... Dean..." he panted and continued to watch as his brother fell, eyes growing milky and unseen.

„No... Dean... not Dean... me! It's... it's...... me! Not you… it's me."

The moment he'd spoken the words the world around him grew dark, slowly vanished, leaving him drifting in a pitch-black void. The darkness he was in wasn't threatening, it felt comforting and warm.

Slowly he became aware of voices. Soft, concerned. He knew someone was talking to him. Asking him to do something and he tried to listen.

„Sammy..." the voice was apprehensive, quiet, tired.

And Sam felt his heart flutter with joy for a moment.

„D-Dean?" he asked. The words not even a whisper.

„Sammy..." the voice repeated, breath tickling him on his nose and he just knew if he would open them now he would meet Dean's face hovering right above him.

„... open your eyes, dude. I know you're awake." his brother continued quietly, breath still tickling Sam's face.

„Sammy?" there was a moment of silence and then: „Stop grinning and open your eyes, you bitch."

And this time he obeyed and opened his eyes, meeting his brother's face.

„Jerk..." he whispered, the smile never leaving his face.

Everything was good.

FIN

Thanks for reading. Hope you like it. Let me know!