Time stood still for Sam until he felt a pulse under his trembling fingertips. Letting out the breath he'd been holding, he reached across and gently pulled Dean upright so he was resting against the back of the drivers seat.

"Dean?" he said, gently patting the side Dean's face. His face tightened as he felt how cold Dean's skin was and he could see close up how pale he was.

"Dean – come on man, don't do this to me" said Sam. It was no good though. His brother was unconscious and it looked like he was staying that way for now.

Sam very carefully slid Dean across till he was sitting in the passenger seat, and then got in himself. Leaning Dean against his side, partly to steady him and partly because right now he needed to feel that his brother was still with him, Sam started the engine and turned the Impala round until they were heading back in the direction of the motel.

The journey thankfully took only moments. Dean really hadn't got very far before passing out. Sam was just grateful that Dean had managed to steer the car to the side of the road and not careered out of control into an oncoming car or wrapped the beloved Impala round a telegraph pole or something.

Parking as near to their room as he could, Sam switched off the engine and slid out of the car pulling Dean with him. He managed to get his brother into a fireman's carry without too much difficulty, wincing at how heavy he was.

"All muscle Sammy" said Dean's voice in his head, and Sam couldn't help but smile despite the seriousness of the situation.

Back inside the room Sam put the light on, tossed the keys onto the table, and lay Dean down on the bed. He carefully took off Dean's jacket and was about to hang it up when he froze. Holding the jacket up to the light, he stared at the lining. The extremely bloodstained lining.

Clenching his jaw and cursing Dean's stubbornness, Sam lifted up Dean's t-shirt and saw the layers of bandage wrapped round his torso. Gently lifting Dean up so his head was resting on Sam's shoulder, he undid the bandages and lifted up the gauze pads.

Sam swallowed as he saw the nasty looking gash in all it's glory. It was still oozing blood, which given the state of Dean's jacket was most likely why he was still unconscious.

"Oh Dean" said Sam, feeling tears of pain and frustration welling in his eyes. Rubbing his hand angrily across his face and putting aside his feelings to be dealt with later, Sam quickly fetched the first aid kit. He'd unfortunately had a lot of practice over the years at stitching wounds and after cleaning the gash thoroughly – something he was really glad Dean was unconscious for – he made short work of stitching it neatly.

Satisfied that Dean may not even end up with much of a scar, Sam re-bandaged the wound and pulled Dean's t-shirt back down. Lifting him up slightly again he managed to get him under the covers and pulled the blankets up to his chin.

Sam was still worried about how much blood Dean had lost but decided that it was probably better to keep him warm and comfortable for now and see what happened. He didn't really want to move Dean any more than he already had been, and he knew the second Dean woke up in hospital he'd be checking himself out anyway so it probably wasn't worth the hassle. He just wished Dean would wake up.

He reached out and put the back of his hand against Dean's forehead. There was no sign of fever, thank God, but his skin still felt too cold for Sam's liking. Getting up he went across to the thermostat on the wall and turned it up as high as it would go, and on the way back he grabbed the blanket from his own bed and put that on top of Dean as well.

Having done all he could for now, Sam dragged the chair across the room and sat beside Dean's bed. He suddenly realised just how tired he felt and he rubbed his hand over his eyes. He couldn't keep them open any longer. Resting his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes and within minutes was asleep.

Dean felt like he was floating. Everything was pleasantly numb and he had a feeling he should be much more uncomfortable than he actually was. Aware of something niggling at the back of his mind, Dean struggled to wake up. His first attempt at opening his eyes resulted in a stab of pain that flared right across his brain. Closing them again until the sparks faded, Dean tried it a second time and after a few blinks was able to keep them open.

He frowned for a few seconds as he tried to work out where the hell he was and then it all came flooding back to him. John. The Daevas. Fleeing to the motel and then leaving while Sam was in the bathroom. His last memory was of feeling suddenly light headed as he drove and knowing he was going to pass out. He'd tried to steer off the road but he wondered if he'd managed it, and if his beloved car was still in one piece.

Turning his head he saw Sam asleep in a chair next to him and realised he was back in the motel room. Which meant Sam must have read the letter, and come after him anyway.

"Oh crap" he muttered, shutting his eyes briefly in frustration.

He wasn't sure he could manage to leave again, not with Sam right there this time. But he had to. It was still the best course of action, he was certain of that. Grimacing, he managed to sit up. The room tilted slightly but then evened out and apart from an overwhelming exhaustion he actually didn't feel as bad as he expected.

Taking a deep breath he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and sat there trying to work up the energy to move. Unfortunately fate wasn't on his side, as right then he heard Sam's sleepy voice.

"Dean?"

Dean turned round and saw Sam looking at him, blinking sleep from his eyes with a relieved look on his face.

"Hey Sammy" said Dean evenly and cleared his throat, trying to work out what to say next.

"Going somewhere?" said Sam with a false calmness that told Dean he was seconds away from being on the receiving end of a major Sam-meltdown.

Sam for his part had woken on hearing movement and been overjoyed to see Dean not only awake but upright. But all the feelings from earlier quickly came flooding back and relief turned to anger as he realised Dean was most likely working up to leaving again.

"Just the bathroom, if that's alright with you?" said Dean with equally false calmness as he managed to stand.

Waving a hand at Sam to get him to stay put even though he wavered slightly as he walked, Dean went into the bathroom.

Sam sat back down and let out a sigh. He was not looking forward to the conversation that was coming, but there was no way in a million years he was letting Dean leave again.

Dean splashed some water on his face and looked in the mirror. He had to admit, even if only to himself, he'd looked better. Lifting up his t-shirt he saw that the bandages had been re-done and guessed from the stinging pain and slight pull that he could feel that Sam had stitched the gash. He hoped he hadn't been too mad to do a neat job.

Steeling himself for what was to come, Dean opened the bathroom door and went back out.

Sam was no longer sitting and was instead standing in front of the window, staring out into the night. He turned to look at Dean and was relieved to see that his colour was a little better than it had been. Taking a calming breath, determined this was not going to turn into a fight, Sam spoke quietly.

"How you feeling?"

Dean shrugged with a slight wince and managed a small smile "I've felt worse" he said, which was as honest as he was prepared to be right now. Sam accepted the answer as at least being truthful and watched as Dean sat down on the bed again. Resting against the headboard he looked over at Sam, almost apprehensively.

"So" he said.

"So" said Sam, raising an eyebrow as he sat on the edge of the other bed facing his brother.

For a moment the room was silent as both of them waited for the other to make the first move.

Unusually it was Dean who cracked first. "Look Sam, I know you're probably pissed right now but I meant every word I said. You need to get back to your normal life, it's what you want isn't it?" he said frustration colouring the last sentence.

Sam was already shaking his head. "No Dean, it's not what I want!" he said and Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Really? Cos I seem to remember a conversation not so long ago where you said exactly that Sam!" he said heatedly.

Sam stood up and started pacing, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Look Dean, I know what I said but you're missing the point here"

"Which is? Cos 'you have to let me leave' seems fairly self explanatory" said Dean and Sam glared at him.

"Stop throwing my words back at me Dean!" he said and Dean sighed.

"What do you want from me Sam? I want you to stay, that's wrong, I want you to leave? That's wrong too. Way I see it I can't seem to win here" he said tiredly.

Sam felt the anger drain from his body as he heard the weariness in Dean's voice and saw the pain on his face. His expression softening, he came over and sat on the edge of the bed next to Dean.

"Ok let me try and explain, and just listen properly for a minute would you?" he said.

Dean sighed but nodded anyway and Sam paused for a moment as he tried to word exactly what he wanted to say. He knew that a lot rested on this – he had to find some way to convince Dean they needed to stick together and to make up for what he'd said before about leaving.

Taking a deep breath, he began.