So, here I am again guys!

With some more for ya. This story is supposed to be Tired!Sam... and I was thinking what would keep Sam from sleeping... well, read my answer to that ;)

Thanks for all the awesome reviews and alerts and fave-clicks. I hope you'll like this little story too.

And thanks "deanandhisimpala" for her beta-ing and for all who joined later... she did the original "Only brothers understand", targeting Dean ;)... and I'm doing the same to Sam now ;) - but different (at least I hope).

Enjoy tired Sam!


4

There had been so much blood this time. He shuddered as he remembered the warm liquid running through his fingers while he tried to keep pressure on the gaping wound... Dean's stifled groan as he had pushed down hard on his belly… and then the breathy voice.

"Sam… we gotta get outta here…" the moment Sam had dragged Dean through the door of the abandoned warehouse a loud roar erupted from deep within the place, the shock-wave making him lose his hold on Dean, who was airbourne for a few moments before tumbling to the ground in a graceless heap several feet away.

Sulphur satiated the air, making breathing almost impossible. Then he saw the fire-wall and he knew if he didn't move fast, he'd lose another person to the demon.

Stumbling to his feet Sam pushed forward, saw the fire grow like a disfigured flower, moving towards his brother. Manic laughter filled the air, taunting him as he willed himself to run faster. He saw Dean move his head, looking up, eyes dull and confused and… then he was there, dropping down, protecting his brother with his own body.

He felt the heat of the fire as it rushed over his legs, back and head, heard the scream of the enraged demon, before the heat died down and the air grew cold, leaving them in an eerie silence.

---

Fire!

He stood there, frozen, immobile watching the fire around them grow. The fierce warmth burned his skin as he watched in utter terror while his brother inched further up the wall, his head touching the ceiling.

Dean's mouth was open in a silent plea for help, blood running over his lips, along his throat, until it soaked into the rim of his tattered shirt.

Manic laughter filled the air and sulphur took his breath away. The flames licked higher, fueled by the demon's power.

"Sammy…" he heard the words despite the roaring fire around him, saw Dean's eyes going dull…

"SAM!" with a gasp he bolted upright and stood, blinking as he tried to clear his vision.

"Sam…" the voice repeated his name tiredly and Sam just reacted.

"Dean! What is it? You hurt? You need anything?" his voice frantic and concerned.

"Sammy…"

Gently he sat down on his brother's bed, silence settling over them for a few seconds.

"What did you dream about?" Dean's voice was already laced with sleep again.

"'s nothing…" Sam answered, watching as his brother's eyes drooped.

"You cried…" Dean blinked heavily.

"Just a stupid nightmare…" he dismissed.

"Was it about…?" Dean whispered, falling asleep again.

Sam sat there, staring down at his brother, watching the gentle rise and fall of Dean's chest - something he almost had lost a few days ago, as the demon almost eviscerated his brother and burned him in fire.

And every time ever since, as soon as he closed his eyes he was back there. And every time he lost his brother. Like he had lost so much already.

And again, he didn't go back to sleep, instead he sat there, listening to his brother's soft in- and exhales.

---

Early sunlight flooded the room, dyeing the walls in gentle red-orange.

The smell of coffee and quiet movements within the room woke him. Blinking his eyes open, he listened to the gentle tapping on the keyboard of the laptop.

He still felt tired. The last couple of days had been a blur and he knew he hadn't been a lot of help lately.

Sam seemed quiet and withdrawn. And always there. Usually he hated being mother-henned, but this time was different. It was like, deep down he knew that something was up with his little brother, only he wasn't able to pin-point to it yet.

Slowly he pushed himself up, grimacing at the pain that still tore into him every time he moved.

And then Sam was there again, his hands wrapping around his biceps, pulling him upright, pushing pillows behind his back and a cup of coffee in his hands.

"Hey…" he greeted, sitting down on his own bed, looking at him with a gentle smile.

"Hey…" Dean greeted in answer, taking a sip from his mug. For the first time in days he felt the tiredness lift slowly, ease back, not trying to drown him again.

"How… are you?" he lifted his head, taking in Sam's appearance for the first time in days, nearly dropping the cup.

Sam's skin was pale and pasty, the only color in his face the dark smudges under his eyes. His cheeks were peppered in day-old stubble and his shoulders were hunched tiredly, while his eyes darted around the room nervously, here and there, only able to rest for a few seconds.

Tiny bits of memories sneaked their way into his brain.

Starting with when he first had woken up in the hospital. Sam had been there then, sitting by his bedside. He hadn't been really lucid at the time, but he remembered Sam's presence. Nonstop.

Then the day he had been released, Sam helping him to the car. The drive back he had already fallen asleep again and he couldn't remember how he had gotten into the motel-room. But Sam had been there, too. Always and every single time he remembered being awake. Sam had been there.

"You nearly died…" the voice Sam spoke with was tiny, his eyes averted to his lap now, as his fingers interlaced and played with each other.

"Sammy…"

"I… could see… they… they…"

"Sam…"

"They had to shock you…"

"Sam…"

"The demon…"

"Please Sam…"

"… he almost took you too…"

"Sam. Stop it!"

"And now… everytime I… I… close my eyes…"

"No…"

"I… I can see you burn like Mom, like… Jess…"

He had known it was bad this time. Had felt the blood burbling out of his body, his life draining away, but never had he imagined…

"Sam… it wasn't your…"

And Sam's emotion turned from sad and devastated to rage within the blink of an eye.

He pushed to his feet, staring down at Dean, eyes burning with fury.

"What, Dean!" he snarled. "It wasn't my fault?" he laughed coldly, clenching his fists. "It. Is. My fault. You know? Every single person I love…" he stopped there and added sadly, "or loved… Every. Single. Person. Dies. I'm like a ticking time-bomb; waiting to blow into the faces of the only people I ever trust and care about."

"Sam…"

"I can hear the frigging demon's laughter, you know? Hear him taunt me, telling me that HE could always get to you… that there would be NO WAY to protect…"

"Dammit. Sam. I'm alive. I ain't dead yet. I ain't…" he felt a sharp pain rip through his abdomen and gasped in a breath.

And before he could recoup Sam was on the other side of the room, grabbing his coat.

"I need fresh air…"

The door slammed shut and Dean sat there, watching it and the empty room.

---

The anger had left Sam as soon as he left the motel-room. He took in huge gulps of breath, swallowing down his upend emotion. Tears blurred his vision as he choked on a sob.

And suddenly he felt so tired. All the adrenalin and fear and stress that had kept him moving evaporated and he stumbled towards the Impala, his knees buckled and he dropped to the ground beside the car, not able to control himself anymore.

Mom had died. Jess had died. Dean…

A warm hand touched his shoulder and he swallowed down another sob.

"Come back to the room. You're exhausted…"

Dean is alive.

He felt a tug at his sleeve and went with the flow. Ever so slowly they walked back to their motel-room.

He didn't fight, didn't have the energy to do anything, as his brother pushed him down on his own bed, removed his boots, his coat, pulled the covers back and forced him to lie down.

"I'm still here, Sammy…" his brother's voice was calm, maybe a little tired - but not dead.

Dean is alive.

"You need to sleep now…"

"No…" he weakly replied, trying to move under the covers but his body was so heavy.

"Stop fighting me Sammy…"

Dean kept his hold on Sam and watched the tears that tracked down Sam's face right before his little brother drifted off.

---

Dean was pinned to the ceiling again. The warehouse was on fire. Thick and acid smoke congested his lungs as he stood there, staring at the demon.

"Sammy…" he looked up at Dean, watching him bleed. But Dean's eyes didn't go dull and empty this time.

"I'm alive."

And with that the dream faded. He felt a warm hand on his chest, and lifted himself enough to see Dean almost in the same position as he had been when he had forced Sam to sleep.

He smiled at his fast asleep brother, slumped over, facing him, with his mouth slightly parted and hair sticking out every which way.

He gently nudged Dean, first receiving no reaction, then a grunt as sleep-dazed eyes met his.

"Go to sleep." He whispered, feeling Dean push himself upright with trembling muscles.

"What about…"

"'m fine." Sam answered him.

"Now go and get some more rest."

"No more all-nighters?" Dean asked in between two huge yawns.

Sam smiled at that.

"Promise."

Sheets rustled as Dean settled in his own bed and silence descended over the pair.

"Dean?" Sam suddenly asked.

"Mmmhhmmmm?" Dean mumbled.

"Thank you." Sam said.

"What for?" Dean breathed, sleep already claiming him.

Sam waited for his breath to even out and then answered.

"For not dying…"

FIN


I hope you liked it. More will be up soon and thank you for reading and reviewing!