The morning went as planned, the afternoon, not so much.

"Sam!" Jack yelled, sprawled on his belly, arms stretched out in front of him as he clung to Dean's wrist. "SAM!"

"Coming, coming…I'm coming….what? I'm right…oh shit!" he came running and he never stopped, throwing his bag as he threw himself onto his belly right next to Jack both hands grabbing for the collar of Dean's jacket.

"Count of three." Jack panted. "1-2-3!"

With the combined strength of both Sam and Jack, they were able to pull Dean up from dangling off the edge of a rather steep incline. A fall likely wouldn't have been fatal, but the bumps and bruises and broken bones he would have acquired from the tumble would have either landed him in the hospital or laid him up for several weeks.

Dean didn't bother to try and stop the forward momentum or gain his feet when he was again on solid ground. He let himself fall forward with the force pulling him up only to end up sprawled on top of Sam with his hands still holding tightly to Jacks arms. The three lay as they'd landed, each struggling to regain his breath and regain his composure.

"Oommph." Dean groaned, letting go of Jack and placing either hand, palm down in the dirt on opposites sides of Sam and using what strength he had left to level himself up. He paused, feeling Sam's fingers twist his jacket, pulling it tight before letting go and rolling away so Dean could get up.

"Everyone ok?" Jack asked. "Sam?" he threw a look Dean's way, expecting him to be the one shaking and panting but it was Sam who laid in the dirt, one hand clawing at leaves and twigs as his shoulders shook with his attempt to breathe. "Hey! Sam!" he started forward but Dean was there before him, crouching next to his brother who laid on his left arm and hip, gasping like he was choking.

Jack stood back, eyes on Sam's heaving back. Sam felt the damp earth beneath him, felt the wetness from the leaves seep into the fabric of his jeans, knew he was lying in the dirt and knew he should get up, but the world around him had tunneled his vision grey. He felt a hand on the back of his neck, fingers squeezing, thumb rubbing in a circular motion.

"Sammy?" the voice was harsh, authoritative, yet comfortingly familiar and he dug his nails into the dirt in an attempt to fight off the world's efforts to close in on him. He wanted to respond, tried to take deep breaths and ended up gulping, causing Dean to give him a rough shake. "SAM!"

He was hauled up and turned around to sit on his ass. Before he could comprehend what was happening, his head was shoved down and his knees were being rapped with a stick to make him pull legs towards his chest. He let himself be manhandled and held between Jack and Dean while they talked to one another over his head as he slowly regained control of his breathing and the buzzing eased up and he could hear the actual words they were saying.

"I'm ok." Sam lifted his head, the hand on his neck remained but allowed him to bring his head up and he blinked until the black dots left his vision and he could see without the world being blurry.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded.

"Dunno." he shrugged. He reached out to touch Dean, causing his brother to give him a what-the-fuck look but he didn't care, couldn't stop himself. He needed to be able to feel that Dean was sitting beside him, that he wasn't an image Sam had conjured up in his mind and was really laying at the bottom of the cliff. "I'm good." and he was now that he knew Dean was real.

"Everyone good?" Jack stood up and moved back. Now that Sam seemed capable of remaining sitting up by himself, he felt awkward being so close. "We good to go?"

Dean nodded and stood up. He flexed his wrists, rotated his shoulders to make sure he hadn't unknowingly caused one to dislocate then reached down to give Sam a hand up. Soon as he tried to pull Sam's weight off the ground, he let out a yelp and promptly fell forward into his unsuspecting brother's arms and across his lap.

"DEAN!" Sam jumped as Dean rolled off him and curled up on his side, pulling his right leg up so that his knee was close to his chest and he could clutch his calf with his hand. "Dean?"

"Fuck!" he groaned, rolling about, flopping from his side to his back, to his side and to his back. He half sat up then went down on his side, hand never losing grip on his leg. "OW!"

"What'd you hurt?" Sam asked, looking up at Jack, who spread his hands and shrugged. "Dean, let me see."

"I'm…..mmmmm….shit…..son-uva-bitch!" he bit his lip and by using his left hand, pushed himself upright. "Leg…calf."

"Cramp?" Jack asked. "Did you…Sam?" he followed Dean's focused gaze to where Sam had crawled and was vomiting into the weeds. "What the hell?"

"Sam?" Dean had to accept Jacks help to gain his feet then limped over to where Sam was crouched, arms braced on a fallen tree trunk. "Sammy? Here, drink some water."

Sam eased down onto one hip and took the bottle Dean had already removed the cap from. He didn't say anything, just took a drink then lowered his hand to his lap in an attempt to stop his arm from shaking.

"You good?" Dean asked quietly. "You know me, right? Know where you are?" Sam nodded but didn't speak. "Okay, sit tight for a bit, drink some more water. I'm not going anywhere, I'll be right here, in sight at all times, okay?" he let Jack lead him further along the fallen tree where he took a seat and worked the denim of his jeans up from his ankle. He really hoped he'd be able to pull his pant leg up far enough to see what the hell was wrong cause he didn't want to have to take his jeans off.

"Damn Dean." Jack whistled. "What the hell man….Jesus."

"It's ok Sammy." Dean shook his head at Jack. "Ain't that bad." he snagged his duffel bag and pulled it close, rooting around in it for something to tie around his leg. "Still doing ok Sam? Keep drinking the water." he wanted to go back to his brother's side and make sure Sam was mentally with him but he needed to take care of himself first. If Dean passed out in front of him, Sam would go ballistic and Jack would have no hope of reaching or controlling him.

"Dean, you're bleeding….." Jack hissed.

Dean nodded. "I know, but not bad. See anything sticking out?"

"No, but you didn't let me get a good look…" Jack slapped at Dean's hands. "You need to let me see. Did you tear it open? Is it a puncture wound?"

"Later." he used his teeth to start a tear in one of the many cloths he kept in his bag. "Let's just get Sam outta here." he tied a square patch of cloth over the jagged tear in his calf, quelling his own pain and nausea in favor of not upsetting Sam further. He worked his pant leg down and got to his feet, testing his leg to see how much of his weight it would bear.

"I'll call Joe to come in as far as he can and pick us up." Jack said. "It lives another day."

"Dean?" Sam was sitting on the fallen tree. He'd regained some color in his cheeks and he was no longer shaking but it was obvious by the way he sat and held himself, he was not ok.

"I'm good Sam but Jack's right, we need to go back and regroup."

Sam nodded, more than happy to return to the cabin. Must be coming down with the flu or something, cause his headache was back, though not as severe as before and his whole body ached. He knew there was something Dean wasn't telling him and wanted to be out of the woods where if needed, hot water and bandages would be plentiful and a decent first aid kit at his immediate disposal.

"Got a hike of about three miles or so, you gonna make it?" Jack asked a white-lipped Dean who, unlike Sam, had not regained any lost color in his face. Just standing on the leg was killing him, there was no way he was going to complete the walk out to where they could get a ride on his own. Jack cast a glance at Sam, not at all sure he'd be capable of being relied upon to help carry his brother out.

"Like there's a choice?" Dean shouldered his backpack and the simple action of added weight caused his knee to buckle. "Fuck."

"Would rather carry you then see you crawl." Jack gathered his own pack. "Sam! Let's go."

Dean nearly made the entire three miles on his own. He probably could have pushed himself to do it, but Sam was so upset over his weakening strength that his attention was focused on Dean and not where he was going, resulting in a trip over a half rotted corpse that left Jack gagging. After that, Dean accepted the help of the two men, mostly because Sam was happier to have a solid hold on him. If Sam happened to be smelly and dirty, Dean was too grateful to have an excuse to accept the help to care.

Once Sam had his arm around Dean and his brother safe by his side, he asked what had happened. He'd convinced himself Dean had faltered because of his bruised shoulder or aching back and though he didn't wish Jack harm, he was relieved to find out it had been Jacks error, not Dean's that had send Dean over the cliff.

***000***

"Go ahead and take a shower Sam." Jack said as the tired, weary bedraggled group of men filed into the sheriff's office. The police department had been a good ten miles closer than traveling to the cabin. "I'll look after Dean." he and the Sheriff supported Dean between them and they let him drop onto a cot in the nearest holding cell. "He'll be ok." Dean had fallen asleep in the car, more than likely from exhaustion brought on by the hike out of the woods but Jack wanted to see the leg wound for himself before he ruled out shock.

"No." Sam shook his head, hair slinging bits of mud, mucus, blood and unknown matter. "I've got him."

"Sam, come on, you're disgusting. You need to clean up before you go anywhere near him."

"Yeah, yeah…..ok." Sam lingered in the doorway of the cell, unable to walk away while his brother remained unresponsive. "Just…leave him alone, ok? Wait until I get back."

"Sure Sam, he's in some pain, but he's fine. You stink, ain't gonna hurt him further to wait til you shower and change."

"Yeah, sure, but he…..ok, ok. I'm going." Sam headed off to the locker-room where he'd left a change of clothes. Loathe as he was to leave Dean before knowing how he was going to respond, he was not letting anything keep him from hot water, soap and shampoo.

"Coffee?" the Sheriff asked.

"Sounds great Joe, thanks." Jack said. "Might want to order out for some sandwiches."

"Sammy?" Dean stirred with a groan, hand flopping across his forehead. "Son-uva-bitch!" his knees came up as he squirmed about on the cot. "Sam!"

"Fuck." Jack muttered, dropping gun and bag on the desk and going over to the cell. "Figures."

"What's wrong?" the Sheriff came out of his office, responding to and looking for the threat.

"Nothing, sorry, just…..he's coming around."

"That's a good thing, ain't it?"

"Not when he can't have what he wants." Jack stepped into the cell but didn't approach the cot. Jack didn't intend to lose any teeth if Dean came up swinging. "Hey there Dean, how you doing?"

"And what would that be?" Joe asked wasn't at all comfortable around the brothers and if Jack wasn't with them he wouldn't have anything to do with them.

"He's in the shower."

Sam meant to take a quick shower and return to be with Dean but the hot water felt good and the shampoo lather was thick and the soap smelled so good that he couldn't bring himself to get out until he was scrubbed raw. The longer he stood in the shower, the more he replayed the hunt in his mind.

Three men against one unknown creature should have made for an easy hunt. Would have, had Sam not allowed Dean to talk him into letting him go on the hunt in the first place. Dean had revealed an injury from the salt and burn, just as Sam had known there'd been one. Now that Dean was hurt, possibly seriously, Sam meant to take advantage while he was flat on his back and weakened with pain to look him over head to toe and find out just what he had injured.

"Dean, hey, hey, hey, chill dude, it's me, Jack. Sam's in the shower."

"My freaking leg. OW! Mmm. God dammit." he grunted through the pain. "Aaaggh."

"That all that hurts?" Jack asked. "Lay still."

"Huh? Yeah Jack, what?" he struggled to sit up then collapsed against the pillow with a groan. "Shit."

"So, you want to take your jeans off or you want me to cut them off?" Jack asked. He took the knife Dean held out to him and sliced the leg of his jeans from foot to knee. Dean had been able to pull his pants leg up out in the woods, but swelling had set in since then. "God Dean, what the hell? Roll over."

Dean huffed, not liking to be in such a vulnerable position without Sam there to watch his back. Jack raised his eyebrow, and made a circular motion with his hand.

"Turn over."

Dean eased onto his stomach, holding still while Jack cut up the back of his pants leg and wiggled the knife under the makeshift bandage Dean had tied around his leg out in the woods.

"Ready?" Jack warned and cut through the tourniquet without waiting for a response. "Fuck Dean…Hey! Lay still."

Dean buried his face in the mattress, hands clenched around the bed frame. He laid still, letting Jack poke and prod about his leg, but he couldn't stop himself from tensing up and inching his way up the cot.

Sam came into the room, clean and dressed, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. He came up behind the Sheriff and Jack who were both kneeling on the floor next to the cot in the cell.

"You were supposed to wait for me." Sam sighed, surprised to find Dean had submitted to Jack and was lying quietly with the Sheriff so near. "I wasn't that long."

"Man, Dean, thought you said it was a shallow cut." Jack whistled. "What the hell did this? A stick? Jesus."

"Get your grubby paws off me." Dean slapped at him. "Good God, enough….Jack, I said it wasn't bad, now come on….oh, hey Sammy."

"You smell better." Jack said, back to Sam. "We sent out for some sandwiches…"

"I'll go get some water and bandages, dunno though, looks like he mighta cut through muscle or tendon…any idea on what? Not a smooth wound, huh? Rather jagged which probably means dirt….so I'll find some hydrogen peroxide, get some tweezers, get a candle, better to go poking around in there with a sterilized instrument rather than your finger." Joe didn't like the looks of Dean nor the leg wound. He had a well-stocked first-aid kit, but still….would hurt like a bitch to go digging around in there.

"Gonna need stitches Dean, you got a suture kit Joe?" he asked the Sheriff.

"I do, but the hospital…."

"No." Jack shook his head. "Maybe, but…not yet, let me have a look first."

"Jack, come on, you haven't even gone poking around that wound yet and I can already tell you, it's gonna take several layers to stitch that up."

"I know, it's why I want a suture kit, would rather set dissolvable ones inside, will be easier to do with a circular tip needle as well. It's not bleeding a lot, but I find any debris in there and pop it loose, he could gush like a geyser."

Thud.

Dean twisted onto his back then sat upright on the cot, leg forgotten as both Jack and the Sheriff whirled around, to find Sam in a heap, out cold on the floor.

"Did…did….he just faint?" the Sheriff spoke calmly, reaching a hand out to steady Dean who had gained his feet and stumbled when he put his weight on his bad leg. "Easy there son, don't go falling on him."

"I think so." Jack said slowly. "Well….jeez Dean, what's his problem? Does he usually pass out at the sight of a little blood?"

"You're shitting me." the Sheriff guided Dean back down onto the cot. "Kid falls face first into a bloody, rotting, mangled corpse out in the woods, comes in covered in brains, gore and guts and is fine, sees a bit of blood and hit's the floor? That ain't right."

"Lay back down." Jack told Dean. "He's fine, Joe will see to him, as for you, I dunno Dean. I'll stitch you up, or Sam will and we'll probably be able to do a decent job, but maybe Joe's right and you should go to the ER. Don't wanna find out later there was more damage done to the muscle or tendon than we thought."

"Wait 'til he comes around." Dean sighed.

Sam woke up to find four faces peering down from above him, forming a circle that blocked out all other objects from his blurred vision. Three of the four faces were familiar, the fourth belonging to a young kid who was excitedly asking questions no one was answering. He laid still, blinking as he waited for the world to set itself to rights.

"Hey there." Jack greeted. "Bad time to pick to take a nap."

Sam's eyes wandered, seeking the familiarity that was green eyes and freckles.

"You're ok." Dean said quietly. Sam understood, that meant he hadn't had a seizure or hallucination. Dean would know, he'd seen enough to know. "Dude, seriously, what the hell?"

"Okay Dean, enough, get off that leg." Jack pulled Dean away from Sam and let the Sheriff give Sam a hand sitting up.

"I'm okay." Sam accepted a glass of water and took small sips. "Just, I dunno…I'm good."

"Yeah, well, good, cause he's not." Jack knelt beside Dean who was sitting on the cot. "Dean, I dunno, Sam? You up to taking a look at this?"

No, Sam thought. Why couldn't he be allowed to remain sitting on the floor and enjoy how good the water felt against his thick and swollen throat that made it difficult to get enough air into his lungs?

"Yeah, what'd you go and do Dean?" he pulled himself across the floor the short distance to the cot inside the cell and told Dean to stand up. "Well, fuck." he fingered the torn skin, afraid to probe too deeply. Dean tensed but remained still, palms braced against the concrete wall. By the time Sam dropped his hand, Dean had pulled as far away from him as he could get, cheek against the wall and imprinted with the concrete design when he collapsed on the cot.

"Just stitch it up." Dean said tiredly. "Get it over with." he wasn't looking forward to it at all, internal stitches hurt.

"One thing I am actually grateful to Dad for is knowing when an injury is beyond my ability to fix. Suck it up dude, you tore that open on a stick, it's deep and it's far from clean, you're going to the ER." Sam paused. "I'll drive."

"Hell no, you won't." Jack scoffed. "You just face planted onto the floor and you lost your lunch in the woods. Maybe you feel ok now, but what if you have another…..episode or attack while driving?"

Sam hesitated, while he didn't mind meeting up and assisting another hunter with the occasional hunt, he wasn't as eager to allow anyone else close Dean.

"I….." he paused. He really didn't want to drive with an injured Dean in the car. He felt a little light-headed and his sense of perception was not on its way to righting itself at all. "Thanks." he accepted the offer despite Dean's voiced protest. "Can drop us off, no need to stay there with us, it'll probably take a while."

"Sure." Jack wasn't slow or stupid, he knew Sam didn't want him around and was accepting the ride because Sam wasn't up to driving and he wouldn't do anything to endanger Dean.

"I'll, um….just let me wrap it up with some clean bandages and we'll go."