A/N: Holy Moly! 5 prompts already, and I haven't even started yet! Thanks guys. I'm writing the prompts as they come. You know, first come first served basis. So, please wait up for your story if you have requested it. :) Thanks again guys! Love you all!

Prompt by TormentedGirl : "I think you should do one where Dean gets super overprotective of Sammy because Sam got hurt on a hunt or vice versa."

Had to think a lot for this. Dean is 17 and Sam is 13. Small mentions of John Winchester.


"Sam. Stay with me buddy. Keep your eyes open." Pleaded Dean.

"Try'n. Hurts De'n." said Sam. Dean was already panicking, and it went up a couple hundred notches as he noticed Sam's slurred speech and the dropping of letters in his words.

"Dad! Drive faster please."

John didn't argue there. He all but gunned the Impala towards the motel. After a couple more minutes, John skidded the car to a stop and made to help Dean get Sam out of the car. But getting out, he saw Dean was already halfway to the motel room supporting almost all of Sam's weight.

"Dean. You'll injure him even more. Let me help."

Dean ignored John. He just clung onto Sam and eyed his dad to open the door. John knew that when Sam was in this state, there was no way his oldest was going to listen to him. John unlocked the door. While Dean helped Sam inside, John went back to the car to get the medical supplies.

Dean slowly lay his brother on the bed, trying not to jostle him too much. Sam groaned in pain.

"Sorry, sorry." Muttered Dean.

"It's 'kay. Don' 'pologise." Said Sam. He was trying to take in small breaths. The wendigo had bashed him up pretty hard.

"Sammy, I need to see..."

"I know. Just do it."

Dean managed to get the jacket off of Sam without too much trouble. The problem was his shirt. It was clinging onto the wounds and pulling it upwards would only entice more pain for Sam. Dean at last decided to cut through the shirt.

At the same moment John came rushing into the room.

"Let me do it Dean."

"Hand me the scissors will you dad?"

"Dean. Let me handle Sam."

"Just hand me the first aid box." Said Dean, not even glancing towards his dad.

"Dean. This is an order. Step away from Sam."

Dean glared back at his dad. He rarely ever did that. The glare unnerved John a little. That glare was usually meant for anyone who tried to hurt Sam.

"No. I'm not. Sam needs me right now. And I think you've caused enough trouble as it is Dad." Retorted Dean. He knew he would receive an earful and maybe a few punches from his dad later, but if it hadn't been for John's stupid mistake, Sam wouldn't be in this mess. He himself got up from the floor and rummaged through the supplies to bring out the first aid box and a pair of scissors.

John just sat back near the study table, shocked. He knew he had been careless. They had separated to search for the wendigo. Sam had managed to spot it. He was about to gank the thing when his Dad approaching and calling out his name distracted Sam enough to give the wendigo the chance it needed. It had collided into Sam and had slashed across his chest. The unbearable cry of pain had brought John and Dean towards Sam lying motionless on the ground.

In a fit of rage, Dean managed to torch the sonuvabitch and had maintained a stony silence up until Sam had started moaning in pain.

Dean finished cutting up Sam's shirt and washed away the dirt and grime near the wounds with a wet wash cloth. He sucked in a sharp breath at the three large gashes across Sam's chest. Luckily, they didn't seem too deep to cause permanent damage. Now came the bad part.

"Sammy? You with me?" asked Dean gently. John was surprised to hear the motherly tone in Dean's voice. Dean had a tendency of being very overprotective when Sam got hurt. And that meant that not even John could interfere.

"Y-Yeah."

"I need to...wash the wound..." started Dean.

"W-with holy w'ter. I know. Jus' do 't" completed Sam.

Dean hated this part. Supernatural fugly inflicted wounds were different. They needed to be cleansed with holy water to be sure that no supernatural illness popped up.

Sam clutched the bed sheets, bracing himself for the pain. Dean hated to be the one delivering it, but he knew he had to do it. He poured a little onto the gashes. The water starting spitting and smoking, bubbling on the surface of the wounds. Sam tightened his grip on the bed sheets and ground his teeth together.

Dean saw that Sam was holding back screams, trying to bear the pain. He kind of felt proud of his brother. That's my boy. Just a little longer. It'll be over soon. He poured a little more once more, just to make sure that it was done. Again, the water bubbled and hissed as it hit the delicate flesh.

This time, Sam couldn't hold in the cry of pain. It came out as a strangled cry. John head snapped up. He made to move towards the bed but was stopped short again by his oldest's look. He knew he could still move ahead if he wanted to, but the fierce protectiveness in dean's eyes showed that Dean wouldn't hesitate knocking his father out if it came to that.

"Sorry Sammy. It's over. I promise. It's over. See. The water's not bubbling anymore." Said Dean. Comforting his baby brother.

Dean stitched up Sam's wounds and bandaged them up. John came over to sit on the bed next to Sam. He tried not to jostle the bed.

"Hey kiddo. You feeling alright?"

"I'm...fine...Dad." said Sam, in between small breaths.

"I'm sorry Sam. I know I distracted you. I-"

"Not...your...fault...Dad. Stop blaming yourself."

Dean came over with two pills. He and John helped Sam into a sitting position, stuffing pillows against the backrest to make it more comfortable.

"Here. Take these." Said Dean.

Knowing not to argue, Sam took the pills without argument.

"Now, you feel anything, even the slightest bit of discomfort, you tell me alright? You don't hide anything from me."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yes Dean. I will. And stop the only-I-take-care-of-Sam attitude. I'm dad's son as much as your brother. And no. It isn't anyone's fault."

Dean looked at his dad a little guiltily. Maybe he had been too hard. Damn it. He was going to get killed for this. He braced himself for the blow. What he did not expect was John to start laughing.

"Don't worry Sam. I can't help it if Dean's an overprotective fool. He loves mother-henning over you. Don't you Dean?" smirked John.

Sam starting laughing lightly. And Dean couldn't help but grin sheepishly at his father and little brother. Yup. He loved taking care of his brother. Was that too much of a crime?

END.


So, TormentedGirl. Hope you liked this!

This went a totally different direction midway. But I like the way it turned out anyway. Review! And leave prompts if you have any.