A/N: This is my first Supernatural story, so be warned!


Sam was tired. He had been working tirelessly for months to find his brother, and now he might have killed him.

Dean was sitting in the chair, head hanging limp after Sam had just given him what he hoped was the last syringe of blood.

Now, it was just the waiting game.

However, Sam was worried. Worried because he might have killed his only family member left. Worried Dean might be stuck as a demon forever because he nor Castiel had the guts to kill him. Worried that he might be forever alone because would be gone. Every outcome was worrying, except the one that Sam and Castiel wanted — for Dean to be human again.

It made Sam sick to his stomach to think of anything else, and it showed. Sam hadn't eaten anything since he had got Dean back to the bunker — their home — and it was quite obvious that Sam was getting thinner. Since Dean left to go with Crowley, Sam's worries often made him too sick to eat. At the moment, however, it was even worse. The suspension made Sam's stomach lurch violently and made him feel as if he would collapse at any moment.

At last, Dean opened his eyes. Sam felt a bit of excitement rush through him, until he saw Dean's cold, demonic eyes. But, before anything could happen, Dean's all black eyes disappeared and confused green eyes replaced them, staring up at the younger Winchester brother.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, voice pleading.

"You look worried, fellas." Dean quipped weakly. Dean looked between Castiel and Sam, waiting for them to do something. Then, holy water was splashed into his face, and he remembered everything. Insulting Sam. Threatening to kill Sam. Trying to kill Sam. Not caring about Sam. Hell, not caring about anything, but that didn't matter to Dean. All that mattered was how he treated his little brother. His Sammy.

"Welcome back, Dean." Sam's voice cut through his thoughts. Dean noticed how his voice cracked and how tired he seemed. Dean tried to look Sam over, but the younger Winchester walked over and stood behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder while Castiel untied him. Instead of Sam helping him up, like he expected, Castiel did. Castiel walked him to his room and set him down on his bed, just before Sam walked in.

Dean's attention was immediately drawn to his brother, who he looked over. Oh, Sam, He thought sympathetically. The younger brother was a lot thinner than when Dean had last seen him, and was injured. Sam looked exhausted and almost sickly and pale, like when he had first started the trials.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked, leaning heavily on the doorframe after Castiel leaves the room to give the brothers privacy.

Dean cocked his head to the side and looked his brother in the eyes. "I'm in some pain, but I'm just really hungry. Aren't you?"

Sam took a double take, not realizing that Dean could tell he hadn't eaten, but while he knew he should eat, he really wasn't that hungry. The suspense and worry pushed hunger away. "Not really. I'll go get you some food, alright?" He asked, trying to act casual.

"Sam..." Dean was cut off by Sam.

"I'll be back in a few." He said hurriedly before rushing out of the room and bunker.

Dean felt slightly rejected and wondered if Sam was avoiding him because of what he said. Then again, who could blame him? What he said was horrible.

"I chose the King of Hell over you."

"Maybe I just got bored of babysitting you."

"You could possibly be worse than me!"

"My mother would still be alive if you were never born."

"Your very existence has snuffed the life out of my life."

And then, he had tried to kill his little brother — his Sammy — with a hammer. Dean had considered the axe, but put it back, knowing that it would kill Sam quickly, but with a hammer, he could've broken all of Sam's bones one by one before he actually killed him.

He had seen Sam die before. Saw the light go out in the eyes of the baby brother he had worked so hard to protect. He had seen Sam willingly give up his life. If he had killed Sam... he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"Dean?" Castiel's voice cut into Dean's thoughts. Dean looked up at him and waited for him to continue. "Are you feeling okay?"

Dean stood up and walked over to Castiel. "Better than before, yeah." He looked Castiel in the eyes. "How's he doing, Cas? How is my little brother doing?"

Castiel returned the gaze. "It was hard for him when you left, and it still is. He barely sleeps, barely eats... He's running himself ragged."

Dean bit his lip. It was his fault his little brother was like this. Sam was making himself sick just to locate him. "Cas, what about his shoulder? It doesn't seem too good."

Castiel sighed. "You can blame me for that one. We were on a hunt together, and with my fading grace, I was too weak to stop the demon from injuring him."

"When did this happen?" Dean asked, visibly upset.

"About a month or so after you left." Castiel answered, looking guilty.

"Why isn't it healed already?" Dean was worried now. Sam has had that injury for two months?

"Well, as Sam explained to me, dislocated shoulder can take up to 3 months to heal." Castiel explained.

Dean let out a breath, looking up at the ceiling before back at Castiel. "How are you doing?" He asked, deciding to change the subject.

Castiel smiled. "I'm better. Crowley stole grace from another angel and gave it to me. It is a temporary solution at best, but a solution nonetheless."

Dean forced a slight smile. "That's great, Cas." He walked over to his desk and touched the photo of Sam and him gently, as if he would harm the photo and the memory would be gone forever if this was done.

"You know, Sam doesn't blame you for what you did." Castiel said, hoping it would lighten the mood, even slightly.

"I tried to kill him, Cas! I told him that I would rather be with the Kill of Hell than him! He means everything to me, and I said that to him!" Dean yelled, his façade finally falling as tears sprung to his eyes.

"Dean, you and Sam are brothers. It will take more than a few remarks and trying to kill him with a hammer to ruin your relationship. Besides, Sam knows it wasn't you." Castiel responded. He looked out the door. "Talk to Sam about, Dean."

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, seeing Castiel begin to walk out of the room.

"I have a woman in the car." Castiel simply answered, leaving Dean confused as he left.

Dean laid back down on the bed, hoping to catch some z's before Sam came back with the food. All he could think about as he was falling asleep was his brother.

~Reunited~

When Sam got back, he immediately ran to the sink, where he promptly vomited the little he actually did have in his stomach. The aroma from the food made him sick to his stomach, though, because of what Dean said, he had gotten a salad for himself among the various food he had gotten.

He set the grease-stained brown paper bag on the table and sat down quickly, trying to push away the dark spots in his vision. He took a deep breath and leaned back into the chair, closing his eyes. This, unfortunately for Sam, was enough to put him to sleep.

~Reunited~

When Dean awoke, he was worried he didn't smell any food. No burgers. No onions. No pie. Nothing. He sat up, and looked around, even more worried when he noticed the lack of a little brother adorning his room. He looked at his clock, which read 2:47 am. He had been asleep for nearly 4 hours and no Sam?

He stood up, concerned as to where he brother was. He checked the younger Winchester's room first, but nothing.

As he walked down the hall to the main room, he finally smelled it. Burgers, onions, and pie. He smiled, thinking Sam had let him sleep so he could recover and then was going to give him a feast. However, as he walked into the room, a revolting smell assaulted his nose.

What the hell? He thought, following the smell to the sink, where his stomach dropped. He cleaning up the sink, letting the water run, before turning around to a heart-wrenching sight. Sammy and all of his long limbs gathered into one of the uncomfortable chairs, sleeping. Dean didn't even want to begin thinking about how that was treating his shoulder.

"Hey, Sammy." He whispered, coming up to the younger man, grabbing a chair, and sitting down next to him. "Sammy." He took his brother's face in his hand and lightly tapped his cheek with the other. "Sam."

Sam moaned and sat up straighter, pulling out of Dean's grasp, and looking at him with glassy hazel eyes. "D'n?" He mumbled.

"Hey, Sammy. You can't sleep down here. You're gonna be hurting tomorrow if you do, especially with that shoulder." Dean said gently.

Sam rubbed his eyes and yawned. "What time is it?" He asked.

"It's almost 3 am, kiddo." He looked over Sam, seeing his pale and shaky composure. "How are you feeling, Sammy?"

Sam smiled. He had missed Dean and how he called him Sammy and his 'big-brother mode.' It made him feel good.

He had guessed Dean saw his vomit, and was concerned. He knew it would be useless to lie. "Not too good." He admitted, sinking back further into his chair.

Dean leaned forward and felt Sam's forehead. He cringed at the heat coming off of Sam's skin.

"Hey, how about we chow down, and then we get you to bed?" Dean suggested, smiling comfortingly to Sam, as he usually did when he was sick.

"I don't really feel like eating, Dean." Sam whispered, coughing a bit.

Dean gave him a concerned look. "You gotta eat man." He whispered worriedly. "I know you're not feeling well, but you gotta eat. You'll feel better. Come on, I'm gonna eat with you."

"I'll just throw it up anyway." Sam muttered, feeling miserable. The only thing that was going for him was that he got Dean back, but that was really what mattered to him. He didn't expect to be taken care of though. He thought he would be taking care of Dean, but then again, he didn't know he would feel this horrible.

"Please, Sam. For me." Dean pleaded, gently grabbing Sam's chin and making him look him in the eye.

Sam nodded. Dean smiled and stood up, taking the large amount of food from the larger than life paper bag. He saw the small salad Sam had bought for himself, and while he wished Sam would've bought a larger one, he knew this would be the best thing for Sam right now. He pushed Sam's chair up to the table and sat in the one next to him. Dean wanted to fill the hole in his stomach faster, but he ate slowly so Sam wouldn't get sick seeing him eat like a pig. Sam picked at his food, but eventually finished half of the salad, and promised to finish it tomorrow. Dean collected the various leftovers and put them away in the fridge before coming back over to Sam.

"You ready for bed, Sammy?" Dean asked, receiving a nod from Sam.

He leaned down and hooked an arm under Sam's armpit on his good side, helping him up. He then helped him walk slowly to him room, taking in how holding Sam up was reminiscent of holding up a bag of bones. That's how thin Sam had gotten without him. This made him feel guilty, but he didn't want to bring up any conversations about his time as a demon until Sam was well again.

Dean opened the door to Sam's room and gently laid him down on his bed, careful of his injured shoulder. He pulled the blanket's up to Sam's neck and tucked him in like he used to when Sam was young, sick, or injured.

"D'n?" He heard Sam ask quietly, just before he was about to leave.

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean asked, turning around and taking a few small steps towards his brother.

"Please don't leave." He pleaded, looking at Dean with half open, glassy eyes and an expression that melted the elder Winchester brother's heart.

Dean held back tears — happy ones this time — and grabbed a chair. He sat down beside Sam's bed and put a hand on his arm to comfort him. "I'm here. I'll never leave you again, Sammy, I promise."


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