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once again i dont own the winchesters but im seriously so close...

Sam knelt at Dean's side. Dean was sprawled on the sidewalk, completely immobile and unconscious. There was a gash on his temple, clearly put there intentionally by some opposing force, and his face was covered in scratches that looked to be from fingernails if Sam wasn't mistaken. His leg was bent at a painful angle, and the blood- there was so much blood. It seemed to come from nowhere. And from everywhere. Sam ripped Dean's jacket open and his breath hitched in his throat. Dean's grey shirt was seeped with maroon liquid, pooling around his lower waist near his left hipbone. Actually, Sam realized, that was where is was coming from. No no no no no he repeated in his mind. This can't happen. Not to you. Sam reached his has to Dean's face, cupping his brother's left cheek in his hand, praying to some higher power that he would open his eyes.

"HELP! SOMEONE HELP!" Sam screamed over and over, his throat going raw in the cold. Hot tears streamed down his face. He felt for Dean's pulse in his wrist- it was weak, but it was there. Thank god. Sam got out his phone and dialed 911. The paramedics arrived within 5 minutes, but those 5 minutes were the longest 5 minutes Sam had ever known. He took off his jacket and placed it on his brother, trying to keep the quickly retreating warmth inside. Sam took off his sweatshirt as well and applied it to the wound in Dean's abdomen, trying to ease the blood flow. Sam sat at Dean's vigil, clad in only a white t shirt and sweatpants as he waited for the paramedics. He kicked himself mentally. If you hadn't taken so goddamn long to get here he might have been ok- If you had run a bit faster, you might have been able to save him… Sam clenched his fists as he watched Dean being lifted onto a white stretcher and placed in the back of the ambulance, his knuckles going white and his nails digging into his palms. He then demanded that they let him sit in the back with his brother. He climbed into the truck and grabbed hold of his brother's hand. The ambulance begin moving, sirens blaring as it raced down the road. The doctors were talking back and forth and attaching Dean to machines and bags of all sorts, jabbing needles into him and strapping him down. Sam, however, made no noise or movement. He couldn't. He held his brother's hand in his and squeezed gently, eyes glazed over with a blank expression for the remainder of the ride to the hospital. Way to go, Sam.

When Dean's eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw was Sam. He was sitting in a chair at the end of his bed him with a cup of coffee in his hand, his knee bouncing up and down in a jittery motion, almost anxiously. The moment he realized Dean was awake it stopped instantly. Sam leaped up from the chair and ran to Dean's side, relief and concern mingling across his face.

"Hey Dean." Sam said quietly, almost in a whisper.

"Hey Sammy." Dean replied back with a smile that quickly turned to a grimace as he reopened some of the cuts on his cheeks. His breath hitched and Sam heard it.

"Hey Dean take it easy ok?" Great job Sam. Your brother can't even smile. What else are you going to fuck up today?

"Do you need anything? Pain meds, food...?"

Dean nodded his head gingerly and opened his mouth to speak.

"Wait don't talk. Tap once for yes and twice for no. Pain pills?"

Dean tapped once.

"Food?"

One solitary tap.

"Ok. You're gonna have to eat something soft though. I'll go get the nurse." Sam's voice sounded raw.

Dean studied Sam's face for the split second it hung above him. Sam was smiling- of course he was. But it wasn't his smile. It was forced, and his chapped lips were breaking apart from it. His eyes were open wide, wider than they should have been, and the circles underneath were dark purple. Dean gathered from this that he hadn't slept in a while, relying on caffeine for his energy. But exactly how long had it been?

Dean found himself asking his own self that same question. What the fuck was he doing here? All he knew was that he hurt- all over. Especially by his left hip. He had a pounding headache as well. He tried to sit up, but that resulted in a new wave of pain. His left leg was abnormally heavy, as well as immobile. He peeled back the hospital sheets and observed the white cast that encased his leg, stretching from the bottom of his foot to the mid of his thigh. Dean took in a breath, which sharpened with the expansion of his rib cage. He let out a small moan. He couldn't move at all. Fuck this.

Sam rounded the corner with the nurse, a plump black woman who looked to be in her mid-forties, who placed a smoothie at Dean's bedside. She smiled at Dean, who tried to smile back.

"It's good to see you up, hon." she said as she emptied an eyedropper of clear liquid into Dean's IV bag. He eyed it warily.

"That's for the pain sweetheart. It should kick in in a few minutes." She smiled again. "I'm Donna. Just holler if you need anything at all babe." And with that she wobbled out of the room, leaving the brothers alone.

Sam let his eyes anxiously wander around the room before meeting Dean's. There was so much he wanted to say. I'm so sorry- I should have been there sooner- I should have gone with you- I should have been faster- I should have protected you- this is all my fault- Dean I'm sorry-

Dean twisted his body to pick up the smoothie by his bedside and let out a groan. He was one giant bruise. Sam immediately came to his vigil and grabbed the smoothie for him, placing the cup in his hand and the straw in his mouth. God Dean, I'm so sorry…

Dean sipped the smoothie with caution and thankfully found that it went down easily. He relaxed a bit as the pain meds came into action. Sam just stared at his brother. His body was stiff and rigid but he swayed on his feet. His eyes drooped and his breathing was too deep. Sam looked down at his hands, picking at the skin around his thumbs.

"Sammy." Dean's voice was hoarse.

"Dean, don't talk your face might open up again."

"And I would still be better looking than you" Dean quipped back, a smile playing across his lips. Quickly his expression faded and he grasped a more serious tone. "Sammy, how long has it been since you slept."

Sam twiddled his thumbs and looked down at the floor. "Not that long Dean. I'm fine." He breathed in. "You're the one who needs to sleep."

"Sam I've been lying unconscious in a hospital bed for god knows how long. You, on the other hand, look like shit." Dean said it in a humorous manner, but he meant it. Sam looked awful. He looked dead. Or pretty damn close to it.

"Dean, I'm fine. You just woke up. You're hurt and I need to be here in case you need anything." It's the least you can do Sam thought to himself. It's your fault he's here anyway. You were too fucking slow to get there in time so this is your fucking problem. Your brother was stabbed and left for dead because of you. You don't deserve to sleep. Not until Dean is better. Sam raised his gaze to meet Dean's. Dean's eyes were wide with concern which made Sam feel even worse. He shouldn't be the concerned one.

"Sammy, I want you to sleep."

"Dean how many times do I have to tell you?! I'm fine!" Sam snapped, a bit too loudly. The lack of sleep was fucking up his emotions.

"Please Sam. The nurse can help me if I really need anything. And I won't need anything. I'm completely good." Dean looked at Sam, his green eyes pleading. "It would make me feel a lot better if you did."

Sam sighed. He was tired and he knew it. It had been a solid 24 hours since he had found Dean. He had found dean mangled and unconscious. Because of him. But if it would make Dean feel better… Sam sighed and gave in, plopping down on the chair beside Deans bed. "Seriously though. If you need anything at all wake me up."

"Whatever, bitch."

"Jerk."

And with that Sam was out.

Sam slept peacefully for a solid 4 hours until the soft touch of the nurse's hand on his shoulder woke him. He rolled his eyes over to make contact, still groggy from his mini-night's sleep.

"Whaddisit?" Sam said as he straightened up in the chair, stretching his long legs that had fallen asleep underneath him. "Is Dean ok?"

"Yes hon, he's fine. You have a visitor though."

A visitor? Sam looked to Dean to see his reaction only to find that his brother was sound asleep. He looked so peaceful when he slept. His mouth and jaw were relaxed and his body was soft and limp, sinking into the bed. Sam smiled with remorse, realizing that the moment Dean woke up, he would be in pain again. He hoped he didn't wake up anytime soon.

"Who is it?" Sam asked the nurse, although he already knew. His stomach dropped as she confirmed his assumptions. God he's gonna kick my ass.

"Sam." said a voice from beside the door. It was low and gruff and raspy and all too familiar to Sam.

"Yes sir." Sam turned around to face his father who was leaning with his right shoulder against the door frame.