Alright, I'm so happy that this story is becoming a reality! I just want to say thank you to Judyann for giving me my first topic to write about! So, here is how I will lay this thing out…

Creator (the person who gave me the topic): Judyann

Topic (Idea that they gave me): Dean accidently shoots Sam, and feels guilty.

Summary (What I wrote): Sam and Dean are in the woods hunting a werewolf, when the hunt suddently goes downhill.

Warnings: Contains small amounts of blood, and potentially tearing of the eyes.

Extras: Thank you for reading, and don't forget to send me your ideas!

Three Words (Chapter title)

This was supposed to be an easy hunt, go into the woods, shoot the damn werewolf and get out… but of course, nothing was ever that easy for the Winchester brothers.

Sam lay on the ground, blood gushing out of his right shoulder where the silver bullet had penetrated his skin. Dean leaned over him; face bloody from the werewolf's claws.

This is all my fault. Dean thought to himself, remembering just moments ago.

To think of how much can change in a matter of seconds! Fifteen seconds ago, Sam was fine, Ten seconds ago Dean had a perfect shot of the werewolf, seven seconds ago the werewolf flung Sam in front of itself just as Dean pulled the trigger of his gun… two seconds ago, Dean hadn't shot his baby brother.

At the sound of the shot, the werewolf had ran off somewhere deep in the shadows, but that barely concerned Dean. Dean was by his brother's side in a matter of seconds, surveying the damage. Sam was out cold that much was certain. He was breathing, Dean concluded from the rise and fall of Sam's chest.

Next step was to check the wound. Dean slowly pulled back Sam's shirt, wincing in sympathy when he saw the damage. The bullet was still lodged into Sam's shoulder, and by the looks of it, it had hit a major blood vessel.

Hearing his Dad's voice echo in his head of what to do next, he pulled up his sleeves, took a shaky breathe, and then submerged his fingers into Sam's shoulder. Sam's eyes shot open at the same time that a horrendous scream broke the silence of the forest.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, as emotions flooded through him. The first was happiness that Sam had woken up. The next was fear; fear that Sam couldn't handle the pain. The third was the strongest, and that was guilt.

"S-s-stop! Please, D'n." Sam shrieked, bucking against Dean's prodding hand.

"Sam, I'm so sorry, just hang in there." Dean apologized, feeling hot tears forming in his eyes.

He had finally gotten a firm grasp on the bullet, and was ready to pull it out, when Sam's face went pale.

"D'n, gonna puke." Sam warned, while trying to turn to his side.

"Whoa! Hang on dude." Dean said as he quickly turned Sam onto his side.

Sam heaved, and cried out as his muscles tensed around the bullet. He could see the world disappearing into a blanketed darkness, and gave into it almost instantly, welcoming its pain free gift.

"Sam, stay with me!" Dean demanded while tapping on Sam's cheek, trying to get him to focus. But it was too late, Sam's body slumped into Dean's as unconsciousness once again took him over.

"Damn!" Dean swore loudly, letting the tears finally fall.

What kind of brother was he? First, he lets the werewolf separate them, and then he shoots his own brother! What the heck is wrong with him? Now his brother is laying unconscious on the dirty ground with a bullet lodged in his shoulder, the one that his older brother put there! For all Dean knew, his brother could lose an arm… or die. This thought brought Dean back to the situation that lay in front of him.

Thinking quickly, and noting that his hands were completely covered in dirt and grime, his first act should be to wash off his hands, except for one problem… he didn't have anything to wash them off with.

The next decision was whether it was best to leave the bullet in Sam's shoulder until they got back to the motel, or to get it out now with his filthy hands. After contemplating, he decided to leave it in for now.

Next, he tore off a piece of his decently clean shirt and pushed down on the wound, trying to stem the bleeding, while also trying to wake Sam up.

"Sam! Rise and shine, kiddo." Dean said when he saw Sam's eyes begin to flutter.

"D'n?" Sam asked confused. All he could feel was the pain in his shoulder.

"Nice of you to join me." Dean smirked, "How're feeling?"

Sam swallowed, "What happened?"

Dean didn't have a clue as to how to answer that question at the moment, so he asked again, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a truck." Sam whispered, grimacing as pain laced through his body, making him shiver in pain.

"Think you can walk? I gotta get you back to the motel."

"Maybe, shoulder kills." Sam replied.

Dean helped Sam up slowly, stopping every time Sam winced.

"You good?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded, and then they headed on their way back to the Impala.

"Did you see that?" Sam questioned when he saw a blur of something up ahead.

"Where?" Dean grabbed his gun from his jeans and aimed it out towards the woods, ready to shoot.

"There!" Sam directed when he saw the blur again.

This time Dean had seen it, he aimed his gun in the werewolf's direction and waited for it to return. Suddenly, he heard a twig snap behind him, pushing Sam behind him, Dean cocked his gun in the direction of the sound and fired when he saw his target.

The werewolf fell to the ground with a shriek. Dean shot it in the head one more time, just in case.

Sam had fallen to the ground when Dean had pushed him, and had tried to catch his fall with his right arm. As soon as the arm touched the ground, he was withering in pain. Pain, pain, and more pain; that's all he could think of.

"Sam! Can you hear me?" Sam heard his brother, his voice sounded miles away.

"Dean!" Sam cried while grasping his shoulder.

"Its okay, Sammy, I'm here."

Dean took Sam into his arms and held him tight, waiting for Sam to get a hold of his pain. He rocked him back and forth and hummed a mix of songs ranging from "Enter Sandman" to "Hey Jude".

"I t-think I'm good." Sam whispered shakily after a few minutes.

"You sure?" Dean questioned.

Sam nodded into his brother's arm. Dean grabbed Sam's waist and pulled him up off the soggy ground, and held him tight as they trudged back to the Impala.

*~*~SPN~*~*

Back at the motel, Sam was laying on one of the questionably clean beds, probed up with the moldy pillows. Dean was digging through their first aid kit, finding all the necessary supplies.

"Dean? How did I get shot?" Sam inquired curiously.

Dean froze, realizing that he had to tell Sam sooner or later.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy."

"Why are you sorry?" Sam questioned further.

"I shot you," Dean admitted, once again feeling his eyes tear up, "I shot you, and now you have a bullet in your shoulder thanks to me. I was so stupid; I didn't even look to see where you were. I wouldn't blame you if you never want to talk to me again, it was dumb, and I'm sorry that you had to pay the price of my mistake."

"I know you didn't do it on purpose, Dean, things happen, that's life… and, dude, it's not like I haven't been shot before." Sam replied.

"Yea, but you've never been shot by me. This is my fault, Sam."

"If you want to play the blame game, then it's the werewolf's fault. Really, Dean, I forgive you." Sam insured.

Those three words were probably the best words that Dean had ever heard. He knew that he had screwed up big time, but knowing that his brother was here, alive, and talking made everything better. He walked over to where Sam lay and did something that he hadn't done in a long time… he hugged Sam and told him he loved him. THE END!

Good? Terrible? Let me know! And don't forget to give me more ideas! Thanks for reading and I hope to hear from you! -twiandsuperfan