Well, here we are again guys! Chapter two ready for all of you so you can enjoy it. Thanks a lot for everybody who had read and had given me their supports, because it had meant to me a lot. Again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SONCNICA! This one is for you! Love ya!

Rating: T

Summary: Dean Winchester wasn't angry. He was well past pissed. Somebody had took his brother and he was going to pay for it. Just wait. HurtSam and angry/protective Dean.

Spoilers: This story happenes in the first season. I don't think there's any spoilers, but I'm warning to be safe.

Warnings: In this story, there's lots of blood, cursing words, violence and some graphic details about injuries and torture. If you don't like this kind of things, please, don't read any further.

Disclaimers: I don't own anything!! All the things that you recognize belong to the show and its owner. I made this story for fun and not for money. The only thing I own is my dreams and my crazy imagination. I own Doctor Delis, his character is based on the best mentor I have ever had so far. He's one of the best doctors out there.

Author's note: I would like to thank Newpaper once again for all her time and patience. This two weeks had been a wonderful experience getting to work with you, getting to know you. You are a great teacher and I've learnd lots of things from you. Thanks for smacking me whenever I get too stubborn or too lost in my own mind, giving me back to my senses. You have been amazing and I hope that we get to work together again. THANKS HONEY! Until my next email. Soon.

Now with the story...........


CHAPTER TWO:

Upon reaching the motel, Dean carried Sam from the car and put him on the bed furthest from the door, covering him with a blanket. Then, keeping a watchful eye on his unconscious brother, called the local doctor from the yellow pages and explained that they had gone camping and his brother had disappeared for a while and, by the time he had found him, he had been severely injured, leaving out the part about the wizard. Thankfully, the doctor agreed to go to their motel room right away to check Sam over. While waiting, Dean tried to rouse his brother so he could get him to drink some water to no avail. So he began to disinfect Sam's back and other cuts.

Once the doctor arrived, he stopped dead in his tracks at the image he had in front of him. The room was already a mess, but what caught his attention and made his blood run cold was the young man lying on the far bed with another man leaning over him trying to help him. He was on his belly, with his upper torso naked, what left at plain sight the horrible injuries that were covering his back. Long, deep cuts were criss-crossing it in different directions, like someone had whipped him. Probably had. They were barely bleeding at the moment, but the doctor was sure they had at some moment, but right now, all he could see was the clearly signs of the infection which had already set in, because they were red and puffy with some pus leaking from them. But these cuts weren't everything, because the man, boy, really, looked horrible, all sweaty and pale with his raspy, shallow breath resounding in the silent room. And he was too still. Deathly still.

He couldn't believe the state the young man was in. My God, what have I gotten myself into? This kid needs a hospital right now. But he also knew how far the nearest one was and that this man wouldn't make it in time.

"Hi, I'm Jim Delis, but call me Jim." He shook Dean's bloody, trembling hand. This other man, who had been leaning over the injured one just a second ago, was looking at him with a calculated gaze, his features collected and hard. The man's stance and the fierce glint in his gaze just told the doctor that he was dealing with a desperate and, therefore, dangerous, person. I just should get the hell out of here.

"Dean, and this is Sam. My brother." The harsh, muttered, few words had a shiver travelling down the doctor's spine, and made it harder to look at the man's eyes.

"Dean, you're aware that Sam is very ill and should be in a hospital, don't you?" The old doctor said gently, as he was talking to a child and hoping to calm him a bit. He could see the older brother was near a nervous breakdown and if he was going to try to save the other one, he was going to need his help.

"Yes. But he's too weak. You just have to do everything you can and Sam will do the rest. He's strong, he will or I'll kick his ass from here to Canada" The empty joke was only a futile attempt to mask the panic and the pain that was visible in Dean's eyes. The doctor sighed.

"OK, Dean, let me take a look at him."

Dean reluctantly left his brother's side to give the doctor the space he needed, but he didn't go far. He began to pace around the room like a caged animal, passing his hand through his short hair every couple of minutes and cautiously eyeing every moment the doctor made, making Jim go crazy, so he tried to ignore the older brother with little success.

When Jim finished taking his patient's vitals and doing his exam, he looked sadly at the older brother, who was deep in his thoughts contemplating the younger man face as if expecting him to wake up and suddenly be okay. But Jim knew how far that was from the truth. He could see the deep bond between the brothers and how much the older one cherished the young one and made what he had to say more difficult.

"Dean, son." When he was sure he had the young man attention, he continued, "like I told you, Sam's extremely ill and weak. He's severely dehydrated, sunburned, has several cracked ribs, a couple which are probably broken, severe bruises, and a couple of burns on his torso. Worse, his back is a mess and infection has already set in. That's why his temperature is rising fast, making him even weaker." The doctor paused, taking a deep breath and giving a moment for his words to sink in. "Fortunately, he does not seem to have any internal injuries nor internal bleeding form the stab wound or the broken ribs. His lungs sound clear, but I can't be 100% sure without any advanced medical equipment like X-rays. Most troubling is the massive blood loss. He's in shock and I can't..."

"Are you saying that you can't help him?" Dean interrupted the old doctor. "Are you saying that he's going to die?" His voice cracked a bit at the end of the sentence, his desperation palpable.

"Without blood, fluids, rest... It could be a couple of hours. Through the night, the most."

"Give him some of mine! We've got the same type!"

The doctor was taken back with this shouted words, but he held his ground.

"Do you want me to do a direct transfusion here? No way, young man! It's too risky for both of you, if there's any complication it could..."

"What? Kill him?" The sarcastic tone was present in Dean's voice suppressing the pain and sorrow he felt. "Or me? I'm not planning on going on without him, doctor, so you don't have to worry about me." His mouth twisted into a cruel smirk. And Jim was sure that if he couldn't save the young man, he would lose two patients that night.

The doctor was speechless, all of this was crazy, but Dean was right. The kid couldn't get worse.

"You do everything you can, and he'll do the rest. He'll pull through. You just wait and see."


Three hours later, an exhausted Doctor Delis covered his still-alive patient with a blanket. He had done everything he could and now it was up to Sam. Fortunately, the doctor had enough medical equipment to stabilize him, such as antibiotics, painkillers, the tubing for the direct transfusion and sterile bandages with him. But he would have liked to have an IV to give his patient all the fluids he needed. Guess they would have to try to wake the kid and force him to drink some Gatorade. He only hoped that Sam wouldn't choke. If he got pneumonia on top of everything because of that, Jim was sure that he wouldn't survive.

But, right now, this young man was still alive and maybe, a big maybe, he could be saved. But Jim knew better than to hope for the impossible.

He had worked without stopping the last couple hours or so, doing all the work by himself, because Dean had been too exhausted and drained from the transfusions to do much more than soothe his brother, who had begun to be restless once he was given some blood.

The direct transfusions, that was the biggest craziness of this whole fiasco. If someone ever knew about it, Jim was sure he could lose his doctor license, but at the time, it was the only thing to do. Sam would be dead by now without it, he was sure of that.

First, Dean had helped him move the other bed so it was next to Sam's, and laid on it. Once the brothers were lying side by side, the doctor put the tubing in each of the brothers arms, then Dean pumped his fist over and over so his blood could go directly from him to Sam. And for Jim's surprise the procedure had went smoothly and without any complications. When it was finished, he took the older brother off the needle and forced him to eat something before he collapsed, and the doctor began to tending to the other injuries once the worst had been tended. First, Sam's back - and, damn, it was really a mess - then, after he and Dean had carefully turn Sam so he was lying on his back, he worked on the stab wound and the other lacerations, cleaning and stitching them shut.

Now, three hours, lots of stitches, painkillers and antibiotics later the kid was stable and calm enough for him to relax a bit on a nearby chair and look over the brothers. While watching them, he knew he had done the right thing by staying. Dean had his younger brother propped against his chest and was trying to rouse him so he could give him some Gatorade with little success.

"Be careful, Dean. We don't want him choking on the drink."

"Don't you think I know that, Doctor?" The harsh and furious words and the way Dean spat the last word without giving him even a glance, reduced the old doctor to silence. Then, in a more gentle voice, Dean continue to coax his brother. "Come on Sammy, just a little sip..."

Sam grimaced in pain and half-opened his eyelids. His look was unfocused and Jim doubted he was fully conscious, but it was enough and he took a few sips of the bottle his brother was holding. Then, he fell unconscious once again. If Jim didn't know better, he could tell that he was only sleeping. But the reality was more frightening.

Although, Sam's temperature was a bit high, it was holding. Maybe they would spend the rest of the night and the next day in peace.

So, with that thought in his mind, he made himself more comfortable in the chair and drifted to a light sleep. Someone has to look after those boys. Both of them. So I'm not going to go anywhere anytime soon.


And, damn, he had been wrong.

When the first rays of sunlight shone through the curtains, Dean's cries of help woke up the doctor from his slumber. He was on his feet in less than a second, and for the second time that night, he wasn't prepared for the image that greeted his sleepy mind.

Sam was thrashing, with his face flushed red with a very high fever and trying to rise from the bed, all the while mumbling and moaning deliriously, with Dean on his feet, pinning Sam, trying to restrain his fighting brother from hurting himself any further. The poor boy didn't know what to do and was looking at the doctor with a plea in his eyes, like he was some sort of a miracle healer.

Jim got out of his reverie and rushed to the brothers' aid. He took an ear thermometer and took Sam's temperature. 104.5. Shit! We've got to cool him down now.

"Dean, you've got to calm him!"

"Come on, Sammy. Calm down. You've got to calm down. Shhhh." Dean tried vainly to soothe him.

"Noooooo........ get off me......… Dean...… please." Sam squirmed under Dean's strong grip, his back arching from the mattress, his eyes glassy and unseeing.

"Dean.....… don't leave me."

"Come on bro, look at me. I'm right here."

Eventually Sam's struggles subsided a bit, because of his weak and pain-riddled body couldn't keep up the effort or because of Dean's soothing, Jim wasn't sure. He was too lost in his feverish dreams to notice even his own brother, still rambling nonsense, his mind lost in the terrible nightmares that were chasing him.

Suddenly, a coughing attack assaulted him and Dean sprang into action, pulling Sam up until his brother was sitting up, leaning heavily against his chest so he wouldn't choke, but instead of stopping, the coughing continued until Sam's gag reflex kicked in and before Dean and the doctor could do anything about it, Sam vomited all over himself and his brother, splattering the bed, the floor and even the doctor with the contents of his stomach.

"Lay him on his side, Dean, the last thing he needs is to aspirate and come down with pneumonia."

Dean rolled his brother onto his side and began to tenderly wipe Sam's face clean with the front of his flannel shirt.

"Dean, go to the bathroom and prepare a bath with lukewarm water, we've got to cool him down.

Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure of leaving his brother side, but then he made up his mind, and rushed into the bathroom to prepare his brother's bath.

When he returned to the main room, Jim had already prepared his brother taking out his clothes leaving him only in his underwear. Then, Dean picked his brother up in his arms and carried him into the bathroom placing him into the filled bathtub. He knelt down beside him, and with one hand, he made sure that his brother wouldn't drown, while washing away the rest of the filth with the other.

Through all of Dean's ministrations, Sam was still murmuring and struggling weakly to get free, but the illness was keeping him from doing much about the strong grasp that was pinning him in place. He couldn't understand what was happening and all he knew was pain, hot white pain. And he asked himself over and over again:

Where's my brother?


After this first incident the three of them fell into a routine during the next couple of days.

Sam, still unconscious and feverish, continued to wander through into his world of nightmares, delirious and getting weaker by the hour. Most of time, his fever was steady, high but not dangerous, and, as long as his brother was with him, he was quiet, calm. But, when the fever would spiked, Sam would be back in the forest opening, terrified and refusing, or unable to acknowledge his own brother until his fever was lowered again.

Dean, on the other hand, was worrying himself sick. He only left his brother side to make quick trips to the bathroom, and only took a break when Jim would force food down his throat or, even, slip sleeping pills into his drinks. He was pale and with back rings under his eyes which haven't been there a couple of days ago.

But, despite the doctor's efforts to help both brothers, Sam was getting worse and Dean was approaching a breaking point, and Jim just didn't know what more to do. He had to change the antibiotics after the first day, replacing the original course with a stronger one, but Sam was just to weak to fight the infection that was consuming his body. So, Jim gave into the reality of the situation and, making Sam as comfortable as he could, tried to find the nerve to prepare Dean for the inevitable.

And by the morning of the third day, Sam's fever spiked and didn't go down, the delirium lasting for hours as he fought relentlessly against Dean, who just didn't have the heart to restrain his sibling anymore.

And by nightfall, his fever went up even higher and Sam fell into a deadly silence, not answering to anyone or anything and Jim just knew that it was a matter of hours. He was so sure about it, he tried to prepare Dean, who wasn't having anything to do with it.

"Dean..." Jim began in a soothing tone.

"Shut up! You're not my father!" The rage and pain Dean was feeling was radiating from every pore of his body. I don't believe it. This is not the end. Damn it! We're Winchesters, we always beat the odds. The fury he was feeling was so intense that the only thing he could think about was punching that sorry excuse of a doctor who was giving up on his brother. But instead of doing this, a furious, painful howl escaped his lips and before he acknowledged his action he had knocked over the table, scattering all its contents across the floor.

"Dean! You've got to calm down, please." Jim pleaded, fear running through his body and freezing his blood. All his instincts were telling him to get away from that motel room, but his doctor sense won and he pleaded one more time while trying to restrain Dean. "Come on. You've got to calm down. This shit isn't helping your brother."

"Neither are you!" Dean shouted while he shoved the doctor off of him. He stood there in the middle of the mess he had created, panting and glaring at Jim, eyes shining with tears he'll never shed.

"But..."

"Don't. Just don't. You don't know Sam Winchester."

For the first time in all of his years as a doctor, Jim Delis had been wrong. Very wrong. And Dean Winchester was right. Very right.

Late in the morning of the fourth day, Sam's fever broke and he began to respond to the antibiotics. That night, sometime after midnight, he woke up.


The first thing Sam was aware was of the migraine pounding between his temples, and second that someone was holding his hand. After debating with himself for several minutes, his curiosity won out and he managed to open his eyes. For a moment, he could only see a blur of colours, but soon his vision cleared and he could look around.

He was in their motel room, identified by their few belongings scattered throughout the small space, but it was a mess, as though a tornado had ripped through it. There were trash, towels, papers, and glasses everywhere. The chair was out of its place with a strange man with a stethoscope hanging on his neck asleep in it.

He tried to move his hand, but found it to be held firmly in place. Looking down, he saw that Dean was asleep, fingers tangled with his. Easing his numb hand of Dean's grip, the movement startled his brother, who immediately propped himself up on one elbow, grinning madly.

"SAMMY! You're awake!"

His shouts woke up the other man who neared them with a big smile on his own face too.

"Well, it's good to see you awake at last."

Dean saw the confused look on his brother face and explained all to him.

"Hey." When he was sure he got his attention he continued, "This is Jim Delis. He's the doctor who had been taking care of you. Do you remember what happened?"

Sam took a moment to reconsider all of this and answered his brother, "Yeah, I think so."

"Well, you were in a pretty bad shape and Jim here saved you."

"Ummm.....thanks.....thanks a lot," Sam said to Jim, once again looking at him. "I'm sorry if I was a bother..."

"No, you haven't... You haven't been a bother, but now I would like to take a look at you." At Sam's nod, he looked at the older brother, who hadn't moved an inch. "Dean, do you mind?"

"What?" A startled Dean who was looking intently at his brother moved out the way to let the doctor have the space he needed "Of course, Jim."

By the time, he had finished his exam, Sam was yawing but Jim was happy with him. He was going to be OK.

"Well, everything looks great for now. You're going to be fine Sam. Now I want the two of you to get some rest. Do you hear me, boys? Both of you." He added looking pointedly at Dean.

"Yes, sir." Both boys were looking at him with innocent faces but the doctor was very aware of the naughty look in their eyes.

Oh man, these boys are just trouble. They are screaming trouble. I seriously pity their poor father.

"Well, now that Sam's on the road of recovery, I'm going home and to get some groceries. I'll be back in the morning. Dean, you got my number, so if you need me..."

"Don't worry doc, we're good."

I know it boys.

As Jim picked his things he listened to the sleepy conversation between the brothers.

"Hey Dean?" Sam yawned.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"I knew you'd come for me. I never doubted it."

"Of course. I'm Batman remember?"

Silence. And then:

"Mmmmm.....… Dean?"

"Yeah?" Another yawn, this time from Dean.

"What took you so long?"

As Jim was letting himself out of the room he overheard:

"Go to sleep, bitch."

"Jerk."

THE END


OMG; OMG; OMG!!!!!!! It's done!!!!!! I can't believe it!!!!!!!! This has been a difficult and intense story to write, but it worthed the effort. I hoped you like it guys and let me know what you think about it. Please review!!!!!!!!! Your reviews feed my imagination so I can continue to write!

Hugs and till the next story!

See ya!

Ally