Rating: PG-13 (due to swearing)
Genre/pairing: Dean, Sam (gen)
Summary: Narcoleptic!Dean (I started to write it for a comment-fic-meme so you may recognize the beginning). At the moment it's a WIP with 4 parts written.
Spoilers: Set during the 4. season so no spoilers
Warnings: Schmoopy and worried!overprotective!freaked out!Sam
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys, they own me. (And we all belong to Kripke)

Dedicated to: Cheryl_W who writes my favorite hurt!Dean-stories ever.
Beta read by: salsa_babe and leviathans_moon

The first time it happens they are sitting in a diner in Wisconsin.

Sam is surfing the net, reading distinctly boring and uninformative articles about dead cattle and Dean is about to steal Sam's french fries ("You're not gonna eat that, are you?").

Sam shakes his head without looking up and Dean gets up to reach across the table. One moment he's talking and stuffing his mouth and he's fine … and the next moment he's on the floor - not moving - and Sam kind of missed everything in-between.

"Dean!"

His own panicked shout still rings in his ears. He finds himself on the floor next to his unconscious brother without any recollection of how he got there. Dean is pale and ohmygodhe'snotmoving! Why isn't he moving? Frantically Sam searches for blood or any serious wounds Dean could've forgotten to mention, because that's totally something Dean would do. He searches for a pulse, an infinite loop of 'No! Dean! No! No! Not again!' playing in his head.

"Oh god, what happened?"

"Do you need any help, buddy?"

"We need a doctor! Is there a doctor?"

There are useless people shouting in the background and Sam's fingers are slick with sweat but after countless attempts he finally feels the faint flutter of Dean's pulse. He counts beats and seconds in his head, petrified with horror. But the rhythm is slow and steady, sounding completely normal and healthy and okay.

He feels his own heartbeat slowing down to a less painful tempo.

"Here's a doctor! We found one!"

"Well, actually I'm a gynecologist…"

"Make room for the doctor!"

A middle-aged man kneels down next to him and reaches out for his brother. He's bald and sweaty and there's no way he knows more about first aid than Sam does.

"Don't touch him!" Sam snarls. It's an almost involuntary response, but the urge to protect his currently defenseless brother from all possible threats is overwhelming.

The guy freezes as he catches a glimpse of Sam's face. Sam knows he probably looks like a raving lunatic right now, but he couldn't care less.

He has to stay calm. He has to think. He has to…

God Dean, wake up, please! Please wake up, why isn't he waking up? Don't do this!

Dean doesn't seem to be bleeding to death anywhere and he's obviously not in pain and except for the unsettling fact that he's unconscious he seems to be alright. A little pale maybe, and he has dark smudges under his eyes, but that's not something new either. He's just not sleeping very well at the mo-…

Sleeping. Sam blinks.

"Be quiet!" he hisses and maybe he looks just crazy and threatening enough because the voices around him suddenly fall silent.

He holds his breath and listens. And there it is. Quiet, but unmistakable. A sound he hasn't really heard in a while.

Dean is snoring.

It's a soft, almost peaceful sound.

What the hell…?

"Dean…," he says softly, shaking him. "Dean, wake up."

He almost can't believe it's that easy, but Dean actually stirs, eyelashes fluttering.

He blinks sleepily and murmurs: "Gimme ten more minutes, Sammy…"

And Sam doesn't know whether he wants to laugh, cry with relief or toss his coffee at Dean's head.

"Huh?" Dean sounds confused as he looks around. "What's wrong?" he asks. "Somebody got hurt?"

^tbc^

Like it, hate it? Let me know.