Author's Note: Thank you so much for the amazing response after the first chapter! It's nice to see some familiar faces as well as new people reviewing/favoriting/following, etc. As of this posting, there are 13 remaining spots for prompts, so please submit before those all get taken. Anyways, on to today's fabulous prompt! This is from Disasteriffic Kaz who gave me this amazing first line, "It's funny. Carrying Dean's heavy ass all the way back to the car through sand in hundred degree heat hadn't seemed like such a bad idea at the time." I actually had a hard time coming up with a scenario for this one, but I really like what I came out with. I hope you do too! Thank you for the prompt!

Let's set this in season 2, shall we?

It's funny.

Carrying Dean's heavy ass all the way back to the car through sand in hundred degree heat hadn't seemed like such a bad idea at the time. It's not like it's even the worse situation he's ever been in, after all. That time he had to carry Dean during a blizzard with practically zero visibility and a pissed off Wendigo on their tail ranked higher on his list of "Most fucked up situations he had ever been". Really, this shouldn't have even been a problem.

Of course, whenever witches got involved, things tended to be screwed up much faster than they expected.

Case in point, Dean's sudden collapse. Sam's heart had nearly stopped the second the witch pointed at them and chanted mumbled words under her breath. The reaction had been instantaneous—Dean had gone down and the witch had used Sam's diverted attention to get away.

"We'll get her later, right?" Sam said to his unconscious brother as he continued the seemingly unending trek to the Impala. How far had they parked the car anyways? The parking lot hadn't been that far from the witch's beach house, had it? "Hang in there, Dean."

So far, his brother hadn't stirred nor made any noise, which worried Sam to no end. Dean was many things; silent was not one of them. In their line work, silence meant you were dead or were slowly slipping away and the youngest Winchester would be damned if either of those two things occurred to his big brother. He would help Dean just like Dean had done so many times for him.

Time for the little brother to step up to the plate.

The sun rays seemed to pierce Sam's skin, making him dizzy as the heat and the exertion from carrying his not-so-light brother caught up to him. He didn't have time to stop and hydrate though, not when he was unsure of what the witch could've done to Dean. He had to keep pushing, consequences for himself be damned. Blessedly, the Impala came into view and with it an added spring in Sam's step.

"We're here, Dean." Somehow, Sam got the passenger door open and gently placed his brother in the seat. After making sure he was secure, Sam rushed around to the other side and turned on the engine. He didn't have time to even block some of the sun's glare before he was pulling out of the parking spot.

He floored it to the motel.

"And you're sure—?"

"Dude," Dean interjected from his spot on the motel bed, exasperated. "For the last time, I'm fine." Sam's eyes narrowed as he watched his brother flip through the channels on their crappy motel TV. He had awoken about an hour after returning to the motel and for all intents and purposes was perfectly healthy. Sam couldn't find a trace of anything magical having sway over Dean and though he was relieved, he couldn't let down his guard.

They never got away that easily.

Never.

"You would tell me if—?"

"Sam," Dean huffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm fine. There's not a scratch on me. That bitch probably just needed a distraction to get out."

"Yeah, I guess . . ." The youngest Winchester's voice trailed off into uncertainty. As much as he wanted to believe that his older brother was right, he had been hunting long enough to know that nothing was ever that simple.

"Relax, okay?" Dean told him softly, green eyes locking on his gaze. "Everything's fine." Sam smiled gently. Dean could have some sort of hidden curse on him and he was trying to protect Sam from worry.

A big brother through and through.

"Okay, well, I guess tomorrow we can look for her again."

"Sounds good."

More channel flipping. All in all, it could've been a lot worse and Sam was cautiously optimistic that maybe they had gotten out of this one that easily. He rose from his place at the desk and headed outside to get some fresh air. Their motel was close enough to the sea that you could taste salt on the wind and it brought a sense of joy to the youngest Winchester. He had always enjoyed the sea. There was something very humbling about it.

Burn.

He turned his head, wondering where the voice came from. Finding no one, he frowned and then took a deep breath of the salty air. He was on edge after their close call; it was no wonder he was hearing things. The sun warmed his skin and was very soothing to him now that he wasn't trying to lug his brother back to a car parked at least 30ft away. He'd missed California in the summer. When Jess had been alive, the two of them would often drop everything on Saturdays and drive to the beach. They used to stand on the sand and just stare at the blue abyss before them.

He missed her.

"Hello, hunter."

His eyes flipped open and he found he couldn't move nor call out. The witch stood before him, clad in a yellow bikini that showed off her bronzed skin. She smirked slightly, ruby lips tilting upwards. Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to glare at her, but that elicited nothing but a laugh from her. She stepped forwards, placing her palm on his chest. Meeting his gaze, she grinned devilishly.

"Burn." He felt an almost knife-like sensation enter him and his eyes widened. She laughed and then snapped her fingers. He fell to his knees and then she was gone. He caught his breath, but the pain soon subsided and within a few minutes, he felt fine.

"What the hell?"

Maybe she wasn't a very good witch? Still, he couldn't take chances and he rose from the ground slowly. Aside from feeling the effects of the sun beating down on him, he was fine.

They needed to get to the bottom of this.

Now.

"And then she just left?" Dean echoed, confusion and anger lacing his tone. He was pissed off that Sam had been put in danger and he hadn't even been aware of the situation. Sam was secretly relieved; he hadn't wanted the witch getting another chance at Dean.

"Yeah." Sam rubbed his head, blocking some of the sun's rays from his face. It was hot in this room. He needed to crank up the air or something. He hadn't remembered summers in California being this warm when they were so close to the coast. Had things changed in the few years he had been gone?

"We have to find her," The eldest Winchester continued, pacing the room, something he did when he was worried and didn't have a solution to a problem. "She couldn't have gotten too far and then—"

But, Sam couldn't hear him. The sunlight seemed to driving spikes into his skin and he felt nothing but pain course through his veins. He did his best to focus on Dean, but the world was spinning and he was on fire and why was it so hot in here—

Strong arms gripped him, but the youngest Winchester was already gone. Fire was burning away his consciousness and it was with slight relief that he found himself falling into the cool abyss.

When he woke up, Bobby was sitting across from him, a well-worn smile on his face. He dabbed a cool cloth on Sam's face and the youngest Winchester leaned into it, savoring the heavenly cold that the cloth contained. Belatedly, he noted all the blinds had been shut—in fact, anything that could produce a bit of sunlight had been covered up.

"D'n?" Sam slurred, noticing his older brother wasn't there.

"He's okay," The gruff family friend reassured him. "He's gonna make this better." Sam tried to process Bobby's words, but he couldn't really focus on them. All he felt was his blood boiling within his skin and he wanted nothing more but to drift back into the pleasant abyss.

"S'okay?" His eyes were already closing again, but he forced himself to stay awake for just a few seconds longer.

"It will be, Sam."

Then, he was gone again.

The next time he awoke, Dean was there. He was speaking to him, but Sam couldn't understand anything. It was as if some child had gotten ahold of the DVD remote and was fast forwarding and then rewinding the movie over and over again. Bobby was there too, lifting him while Dean kept talking.

"—be okay, Sammy, I promise, just hang on—" Dean's cool hand slipped into his and Sam weakly grasped it, but still couldn't understand what was happening. Still, his older brother was clearly worried and it was his job to help ease his worries.

They placed him into a bathtub of ice water, but it barely soothed the fire that was consuming him. Bobby grabbed a small cup and scooped some of the water and poured it over his head. Throughout it all, Dean kept talking and Sam forced his eyes to remain locked on his brother's.

"—stay with me, Sammy, please, I can't—"

With his remaining strength, Sam forced his hand to move to his brother shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"S'okay, D'n," He soothed, his voice barely above a whisper. "M' fine."

His eyes fell shut.

Two days later, he woke up in a hospital bed.

The first thing he noticed was that the fire had been extinguished and he breathed a sigh of relief at that. Turning his head, he noticed Bobby asleep in one of the chairs by his bed and he smiled softly.

"Sammy?" Red-rimmed eyes met his and Sam forced himself to open his mouth to speak.

"Hey." Dean let out a breath that it seemed like he had been holding for weeks. "What happened?"

"That witch cursed you," His older brother spat venomously. "She made it so sunlight caused your blood to boil. She thought she was pretty clever about it too." Given that the eldest Winchester was speaking about her in the past tense, Sam assumed she was dead. He was a bit relieved. Who knew what she could've done to other people if she had gotten away?

"You okay?" Because at the end of the day, that was most important to Sam.

"Me?" Dean echoed in disbelief. "Dude, I'm not the one who almost died from a temperature of 106."

"That bad?" Sam winced.

"I called Bobby as soon as you collapsed in the room," He gestured to the sleeping hunter and Sam felt a wave of gratitude consume him. He was glad that even after their dad's death that they weren't alone in the world. They still had people watching out for them. "I went witch hunting when he showed up. Couldn't find her and when I got back to the room, you were unresponsive and your temperature was climbing." He ran a hand through his hair, obviously relieving a painful memory. "After an ice bath didn't help, we lugged you here. Your fever finally broke yesterday when I killed the bitch."

The unspoken it was too close hung in the air.

"M'okay now." He held his hand out and instantly, his older brother gripped it.

"You're such a girl, Samantha." Dean teased; Sam just grinned.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you say after this we go to Alaska or something?"

And for the first time in what felt like years since their dad died, Dean laughed.

Author's Note: So, there we go! This turned out longer than I had anticipated, but I hope you liked it. Thank you again for such a wonderful prompt! Please review if you have a second! Also, if you wish to submit, there are 13 slots still open. Submit soon! Thanks!