Rain, Rain

A/N: This story is not over, guys. Sorry if the ending led you astray. This chapter is dedicated to Enkidu07. Hope this is what you wanted to see!

I

"SHIT!" Dean pounded his fist against the steering wheel for the upteenth time, regretting it instantly as he rubbed the side of his hand.

"Dean..." Sam sighed wearily. Dean had had been banging on the steering wheel for the past 10 minutes. They had been driving for about 2 hours with no gas station in sight. The poor, beloved Impala had run out of gas and Dean was beyond pissed.

"There is no way in hell that I am having my baby towed." Dean crossed his arms, defeated. "No way." He mumbled, fuming. He thought about calling Bobby, and he didn't want to bother him, but he'd be able to get them out of this mess, and he was only a day's worth of driving away from them. Besides, neither one of them wanted to get picked up as hitchhikers. They didn't have the best luck with that kind of thing.

Dean pried his thoughts from his dilemma for a moment and peered over at his brother. He looked extremely uncomfortable in the car, with his legs pulled up to his chest, his back arched forward, and his head resting against the cool window of the car.

"So what are we gonna..." Sam turned to face Dean and noticed his staring. "What?"

Dean shook his head and did his little eyebrow trick. "Nothing." He pulled his eyes away from his brother. "And I don't know, Sammy."

Sam seemed to mull this thought over in his mind and came to the conclusion that he did not want to be cramped up in the car for the next 8 hours. Anyway, the chill from the deep morning air was starting to make its way to the inside of the Impala. There was no way he was going to be even remotely comfortable while waiting for Bobby.

Dean opened the car door and got out. Sam heard him rummaging through the trunk. He knew there were all sorts of weapons in there, obviously, but was slightly shocked when Dean returned with an armful of blankets and a pillow.

"I didn't know we had that kind of stuff in the trunk." Sam noted. He knew of the first aid kit, cheap cell phone always fully charged, batteries, flares, etc. but not of the equipment for a camping trip.

"Gotta be prepared for anything, Sammy." Dean said casually, tossing a blanket to Sam. He nodded as he felt the slight shiver in his limbs and he winced as he jolted to catch the blanket, pain skyrocketing through his lower back. Black dots swarmed his vision and he held a hand to his temple to stop the dizziness. Dean clenched his hands on the top of the car and peered in, taking in Sam's obvious unease.

"Hey." He called out for Sam to hear. Sam pushed his hand away from his head and shook the fatigue off, as Dean continued, gently. "You okay?"

Sam bit down on his teeth, gritted them together to fight back the frustration he was having over the amount of pain someone could be in by doing simple tasks.

"Fine."

Dean stared at him for a moment longer and hopped back in the car with his own blanket, wrapping it around himself against the cool morning air. Dean pulled out his cell phone, called Bobby and hung up with an edge to his voice as he spoke.

"He's not going to be here for another 6 hours." He sounded bitter. Sam was only somewhat relieved. He had expected Bobby to come in 8 or 9 hours, but apparently he was a little closer to them than he thought. Despite this, he was still going to be cramped up in the Impala with a pissy Dean.

Dean let out a weary sigh, and Sam shivered.

"Dude. I think it's warmer outside." Dean said, rubbing his hands together briskly.

Sam nodded in agreement. Dean took that as his cue to hop out of the car and help Sam out on his side.

"Dean, can't we just walk? See if there's some place we can hide out in for the night?" Sam sounded desperate to lay somewhere, the exhaustion taking its toll both physically and mentally. Dean pondered this. His thoughts first went to Sam, whom he didn't want walking for God knows how long. And then, the Impala. He really didn't want to leave it here. He glanced over to Sam, then back to his beloved car. Back. Forth. Back. Forth.

He let out a strangled sigh of defeat.

"Are you sure you'll be able to keep up with me, crip?" Dean smirked, only joking with Sam since he'd have to leave the car behind. Sam rolled his eyes and huffed, getting out of the car and following closely behind his fairly moody brother.

II

Sam was pretty far behind. Again. It was the millionth time that Dean had to stop to wait up for his little brother. They had been walking for about an hour. The Impala was out of their range of vision, and they were nearing a sign for a town that was about 3 more miles away. Sam looked in an awful amount of pain. He walked with his back hunched, his arms folded across his chest to keep the blanket around him, and the pain in his legs made him walk with a limp. His face was paled from the coldness of the air, and the pain that was literally numbing him so much that it hurt.

Dean folded his arms patiently and waited until Sam caught up with him. "Do you want to sit and rest for a little while?" He asked cautiously. Lately, Sam had been on edge about feeling dependent. He didn't want to feel like he needed to rest all the time, or sleep when he took his meds, or take meds in the first place. He didn't want his injury to define him. And Dean only understood that to an extent.

"Nah, I'm good." He said exasperatedly. His lids fluttered tiredly.

Dean only partially shrugged it off, keeping his eyes on his brother's form as they walked slowly towards the town. Dean hadn't given up on Sam's hope for total recovery, but it always seemed like Sam was pushing himself too much. And with no more hospital care, there was only so much Dean could do to help him through it.

They entered the town. It was honestly, pretty damn small. It was like this whole stretch of highway, and right when you turn and see that sign, it's a whole other world. The little houses were lined up along the streets, there was one supermarket, a doctor's office, and a bank. It was like a little western town without the western. Dean didn't want to intrude on anybody's home, so they opted for a small shed on the farther side of town. Which, obviously wasn't very far to begin with.

Dean pressed his shoulder against the shed, half expecting to find someone or something in it, but it was completely vacant and empty of any life. It was starting to become lighter outside, and Dean expected it was somewhere around 6 or 7 in the morning.

It was much warmer in here than it was outside, and Dean quickly realized that it was insulated. Someone must own the shed, or else...why bother? Dean threw down a blanket on the floor, with the two pillows at the top, and waited expectantly.

"Are you gonna lie down?" Dean spat out. Sam honestly wanted to jump right on that blanket mountain and sleep for 3 days, but he couldn't physically move anymore. He was too exhausted, his muscles were shrieking profanities at him, and he was so cold.

"I..." Sam didn't want to blurt it out. He was trying to avoid sounding weak at all cost. But, his tired body won him over. "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?" Dean said casually, trying to press the subject without overwhelming his little brother. After a few moments of silence, Dean had to continue on. "Sam?"

"I can't move, okay!" Sam shouted it out, sighing as though he were disgusted with himself, teeth grinding against each other.

Dean stared at him for a moment, pity washing over him. It was heartwrenching to see his brother afraid to ask for help, to need to feel some sense of independence. He reminded him of himself in that moment. Too proud to ask for help, too strong to be needy.

"All you had to do was ask, Sammy."

His voice broke somewhat. "I'm not weak, Dean."

Dean shook his head, as if that wasn't what he was trying to say. "No, Sammy, you're not. But everyone needs some help once in a while."

Sam's eyes fell to the floor. He didn't want to admit his weakness. He didn't want to seem like the 'crip' Dean had joked about him being. He wanted to be strong, and independent. Because, when the demon gang that did this to Sam finally found them, he wanted to be able to fight them off himself.

"Let me help you." Dean said as he worked his way to Sam's side. He gripped his elbow and left his other hand on his back as he slowly lowered his younger brother to the ground. It was exhausting for Sam, and he was out of breath by the time he made it to the blanket. He didn't want to lay down because he couldn't do that either. It hurt too damn much.

The physical exertion that had come with walking well over 5 miles was really starting to take its toll. He had just started to really recover and now...Well, it was his own fault. He wanted to walk because he wanted to show Dean how strong he could be. He just didn't know it would hurt this bad. He whimpered and Dean's eyes shot immediately to his brother.

"What is it?" Dean's eyes were like a hawk, following Sam's motions with intensity.Sam shifted a little and shot a hand to his back. His legs were feeling better now that he was sitting down, but the lower part of his back where it branched out to his hips had been nagging him ever since the accident.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing." But Dean didn't, and wouldn't buy it. It was never nothing with Sam. He knew it was something this time, too, because the pain caught his brother off guard, and it was obviously a bitch to deal with.

"Is it your back?" Dean inquired, trying to sound as calm as possible. He didn't want Sam to think he was having an obvious problem with comfort right now. Sam's expression remained blank, but Dean knew. He always knew.

So, he sat down behind his brother and scooted up close to him.

"What the hell are you doing, Dean?" Sam sounded achy and tired, but he didn't want Dean to get all touchy-feely if he didn't want to.

"Shut up, Sammy. You're in pain, and I'm in the giving kind of mood." Dean rested his hands on Sam's shoulders. He tried to cry out in protest, but Dean's hands moving in swift motions actually felt really relaxing.

Dean moved his hands down to Sam's middle and lower back, noting with a grimace that there was weeks of tension built up in his muscles. They felt like rocks beneath his fingers, and he worked over them for a while, rubbing his fingers into his back in small circles, easing away the tension.

He continued rubbing his palms up and down the canvas of his little brother's back, picking up on little scars from previous hunts, and the most recent one from the shooting. He rubbed his fingers over the raised, pinkish white trail and then focused on the muscle around it, positive that the muscles in that area were more sore than the others.

Sam's breathing started to even out, and Dean felt him shiver and sigh, a chill running down his spine.

"You're such a girl, Sammy." Dean grinned. He pulled away because he knew how sleepy Sam was, but he was satisfied that he had helped his brother get rid of some of the pains in his back. He helped Sam lay back against his pillows and made sure the blanket was wrapped around him securely, keeping him warm for the remainder of their wait for Bobby. Dean snuggled up against his own pillows, and did not protest when his little brother curled up close to his chest, resting his head near his arm. Sam's breath against his elbow was comforting. It only reminded him that he was alive. The shooting scared Dean more than Sam could ever imagine.

Sam sighed lightly and yawned. "Thank you, Dean."

And Dean knew Sam was grateful, even if he called him a girl for being so. He drifted off to sleep with a good feeling in his heart, uplifted by weeks of sadness and stress.

TBC...