Here is part 2 of Chapter 1. Notice I'm calling it Chapter 2. Makes more sense that way ;)

Chapter 2

Damnit to hell! Couldn't he do anything right? Anything?

Dean was onto him quicker than a burst of welcome pain shot through his body. Torn ligaments at least. In a way he was looking forward to standing on it, just to see how much it hurt, but the lightheadedness and darkness threatening to overwhelm him wasn't making standing up very possible at all. Just as he was about to give into the dizziness and float away, he caught a quick glimpse of his latest cut peeking through the bottom of his scrunched shirt sleeve. Simultaneously, he felt Dean undo his shoe, peel off his sock and push up his jeans, murmuring something about his ankle being broken.

Where was his jacket? Ignoring the intense heat of the day, he spun his head around and spotted it lying within reach, albeit ripped on one side. Still wearable though.

He forgot to think about how it would look to Dean. Why someone would be so desperate to put on a torn jacket in the middle of a blistering summer day. Without thinking of anything other than his dark secret, he snatched it from the dried, golden grass and tried his best to stay conscious until he could get it on.

'Sam, leave your jacket off. It's frickin boiling hot. What the hell?' Sam heard his brother as clear as day. Somehow the adrenalin rush of the missing jacket brought him back from the center of faintness. 'I said leave it off!'

'I'm okay.' Sam said distracting Dean by ripping his foot from his grasp and attempting to stand upright. Damn it was scorching hot and this jacket wasn't going on as easy as it should. Arms were getting tangled around material and the effort alone was frustrating him to the edge of insanity.

'We need to ice your foot. Sit down and stay still.'

That could work too; Dean giving him twenty seconds alone time to straighten himself out and deal with this searing pain. He crashed back down on the grass and noticed his brother's astonished shake of his head. He wasn't playing this right but it was hard to think. As long as he had his jacket on though and jeans covering down to his knee, it would be alright.

'You good for a second?' Dean asked. 'Just gonna get some ice okay?'

'Mmn.'

Sam let out a sigh of relief thinking he was off the hook when Dean took his first step, but his brother's next words deflated any raised hope. 'Seriously, leave your jacket off. I'm gonna rip it up and use it as a bandage. It's ruined now anyway.'

Probably best just to go with it. Hopefully he had enough time to ensure both his shirt sleeves were firmly down and in place. As long as he kept on top of it, as long as his mind didn't wander like it sometimes did, there was no reason for Dean to see any scratches. He hated this, hated hiding something else from Dean. Always seemed to be hiding something. Always carrying some unspeakable secret around with him.

Why did he do these things?

Every single day he would promise himself never again. No more ripping and tearing at his skin. No matter how great the urge in the dark hours of the night became. No matter what thoughts stabbed through his brain. It was weird and shameful and he didn't even understand why he did it. But the times he couldn't sleep, before he could even begin to talk himself out of it, were the times he scratched at himself until he felt the first spurt of blood. From then on, there was no going back.

'You are sweating up a storm buddy.'

'I'm fine.' Sam didn't bother twisting his neck to look at Dean's re-emergence, just threw his jacket next to him and found his other hand clamping down on his swelling ankle. 'I've got it. You just go deal with the job.' He might have half-reached up an arm and hoped for Dean to shove the ice in his hand but he knew it was nothing more than wishful thinking. When Dean simply sat down and went to work on knifing the jacket, wrapping the ice and laying it on his ankle, Sam was not in the least bit surprised.

'You know there was an opening down the way a bit.' Dean nodded in the direction of the unlocked gates only five or six car parks away.

'Oh. Sorry.' Sam apologized, silently berating himself for being such an idiot.

'Don't be sorry. Just look around okay? You know how it goes. Stupid moves...'

'Means stupid mistakes. I know.'

Sam's ankle was already swelling to holy hell. A handful of rapidly melting ice and a cut up jacket wasn't going to help it enough. They needed to get back to the motel...or the closest hospital.

'Does it feel broken?' Dean asked him peering at the inflated mound carefully.

'No. Just torn.'

'I'm gonna check. Just like we used to okay?' Dean grabbed hold of Sam's leg motioning him to brace himself. Sam did so without complaint. This didn't shock Dean. Sam always did everything without complaint now.

From what Dean could tell no bones were broken but the material on Sam's jacket was too thick; that was obvious. The make-shift ice-pack was no way near cold enough and it wasn't doing the job. Dean had appeased Sam long enough. Sure the kid had become self-conscious of his body to the point of delusion over the past few months, but it was time to get this shirt off and use the cotton for both the ice and the bandage. Anyway, he had a t-shirt on underneath. What was anyone going to see?

'Take your shirt off.'

Sam's eyes bulged at the mere words. This automatically sent Dean's eyes rolling; but not intentionally. He was forever checking himself, trying to be sensitive to all of his brother's new needs and issues, but this was getting to be too much. It was damn burning hot out here, his ankle had to be treated and they needed to get him back to the car.

'I'm fine.' Sam said again when Dean nodded for him to hurry it up, holding out his hand in preparation.

'Sam if I had one, I would use mine but I don't and there is no other option. You have to take it off so we can use it.'

'But I'm fine.' Sam repeated doing his best to stand up again. Ignoring the pain was easier than ignoring Dean's face transform from impatience to anger. Frantically Sam's eyes darted around and landed on his good foot. 'My socks!' he blurted in satisfaction. 'We can use my socks!'

'That's just gross.'

'But it will work.' Sam smiled.

With a glare intense enough to make anyone back down, Sam stood strong. Dean took up the challenge right then and there. That shirt was coming off today and he was going to find out exactly what his brother was hiding. Sam arguing anything lately meant something big and thinking back, this was the only issue that caused any kind of fight back from his brother. Obviously something was amiss and the only thing he could think of was a delayed scar or injury from the soul's return. If so, he wanted to check it out so he could get it healed and more importantly, see if it needed to be. This paranoia was a worry. A God-damned worry.

'We're not using any sweaty socks. I need your shirt. Take it off.'

'What about my t-shirt? At least it's stretchy?'

'Okay, sure, take them both off. We'll see which one works best.' Dean played along already knowing this would be met with another refusal.

'The t-shirt will.'

'So hand it over then.'

Sam's eyebrows knitted together. 'Well, can you give me a minute?'

'Dude,' His patience was wearing thin. He took a breath to calm himself. 'We're brothers. I've seen you without any clothes on a million times. Hell, I used to have to shower you myself when we were kids…'

'Okay!' Sam interrupted. 'Jeez. Just stop right there.'

Dean on instinct completed a full head check positive by Sam's reaction someone was within hearing distance. There was no one; they were alone. His eyes shot down to asses Sam's ankle before looking back at him. 'The shirt, the t-shirt, whatever. Just give me one.'

'We can use yours.'

'You know what? Fine. It's so frickin hot out here, I can't even argue right now.' He ripped off his t-shirt and carved into it before Sam could say another word. The car being so close assured Sam he could reach it without any stupid ice-pack. The last thing he could look at now was his brother's flawless back, chest and arms completely out in the open where if anyone saw him; they would be impressed rather than repulsed.

Even the bathroom mirror was Sam's enemy now, threatening to reveal the mass of frenzied red slashes in one sight. Sometimes he turned the light off as he dressed to ensure he wouldn't even catch a glimpse at his reflection…and more importantly, so Dean wouldn't see him via any lit slit through the door frame. The last thing he needed on this day after the reminder that Bobby couldn't stand to be around him was confirmation on how screwed up he was and how perfect a brother he had.

Not Dean's fault; Dean was the normal one. He didn't dig into himself until he bled or throw everyone to the wall. No wonder people liked him better.

Sam liked him better.

Rage was burning within him and he remembered this feeling; where pretty soon all control would be lost. Glancing past Dean steady at work fixing another one of his messes was all but causing his tainted blood to boil. Without a word he limped towards the Impala, feeling dry and rough straw between his toes. Good, he could walk on it. At least the burden of being him would lessen once he got to the passenger seat.

'So I'm ripping this up for nothing am I?' Dean called after him, relieved his brother could walk but furious at the stubborn attitude he was copping. He hadn't encountered it in a long time and he certainly hadn't missed it. 'God-dammit Sam…' He rushed to pick up all their belongings and raced after him. The car might have only been a few feet away but thankfully, he was easy to catch.

'I'm fine.'

'You said that a hundred times, but you're not.' Dean opened the back door, threw all items aggressively in the now water–filled cooler and helped his frazzled brother into his seat. Man the car was stifling. Even without a shirt on, Dean was struggling. He had no idea how Sam, the one who was barely able to cope with heat half this temperature was handling it. 'Maybe we should check into a motel here tonight.' Dean announced to himself as he plucked the longest piece of material from the water and wrapped it around Sam's ankle.

'I'm fine. Just go salt and burn the bones and then we can go back to ours.'

'I'm not leaving you in this car in this heat. Don't be stupid.'

Once Dean was satisfied the ankle was somewhat bandaged in position; he tugged the seat belt down for his brother, waited for Sam to click himself in then closed both front and back door behind him. This town was not as small as the other, but finding a motel with vacancies could be a problem. He didn't remember driving past a single one which meant they'd either have to search or research. And it was too hot to do either. So much for a simple in and out. Why couldn't anything ever just be simple?

So damn hot. He needed to drive with the windows wound down so he could actually breathe.

Before he took off, he reached back and yanked another two pieces of soaked material from the tub. Wringing one out over his brother's head caused Sam to blink wildly as water dripped into his eyes but it didn't invoke any argument. Now that he was back in the car, fully clothed and on his way to somewhere else, his heart slowed, his breathing returned to normal and he felt content concentrating on the pain of his injury rather than the fear of being exposed.

Dean noticed the water wasn't as cold as he had hoped when he placed his bit of material around his neck and squeezed, but as it dribbled down his chest and back it cooled him a little. Pity it didn't chill his mood. Attempts at keeping his eyes on the road rather than his brother's shirt-covered chest were failing and if not for Sam's gasp when the only Godforsaken car on the road almost collided with them, they would be adding contacting tow trucks and insurance companies to their list of things to do.

'God it's so hot!' Dean complained once again, flicking the fan on full and making sure both of them had vents blowing onto their bodies. His brother's sweat-soaked shirt and beet red face caught his eye. 'Look at you. You are dripping wet Sam.'

'I'm fine.' Sam lied again, but this time even he heard how unconvincing he sounded. After shutting his eyes to pull himself together and get his bearings back, he strived to say the words again, but no sound would leave his mouth, no words would form. And when he opened his eyes to look at his brother for help, all he could see standing in front of him was none other than Lucifer himself.

(tbc)

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, read and added Chapter 1 to their alerts and favorites. I submitted at an unusual time and hardly expected anyone to find it.

Thank you to the people who do / did any of those things for this chapter too. Very much appreciated.