"Sam?"
Sam wiped away the wash of tears, drawing in a sharp breath at the answering ache in his shoulder. He stared around the room at the too-familiar hospital accoutrements, then looked back at his brother. "Why – "
"Concussion, sprained wrist, wrenched shoulder, three broken ribs and a shitload of bruises," Dean answered. "Almost broke your damned neck."
"Why did you bring me here?" Sam tried to sit up, face whitening even more at the pain in his ribs, the pounding in his skull. "I'm fine."
Dean put a hand on Sam's shoulder, withdrew it slowly when Sam flinched away.
SUPNSUPNSUPN
Pam came into the room. "Oh, you're awake." She nodded approvingly at Dean. "I knew you talking to him would help."
She came between the two brothers – Sam sinking back onto his pillow, Dean standing frozen, staring wide-eyed at him – and brought out a thermometer. "Lay still, sweetie."
She stuck the thermometer into Sam's mouth, waited until it beeped and frowned when she read the results. "You're a little warm. Well, we'll keep an eye on it and if it goes up, the doctor will prescribe something for you."
"I'm not staying," Sam said tightly. "Dean, get me my clothes."
SUPNSUPNSUPN
"Oh, but you can't leave!" Pam exclaimed in dismay. "You need to rest, let your body heal. At least tonight –"
Sam sat up, ignoring the snarl of pain from his ribs. "I'm not staying," he repeated. "I'm signing out AMA. Get the doctor."
"But –"
"Get him, please."
Pam hastily left the room and Sam stood, moving slowly.
"You sure about this?" Dean asked. "You look like hell. You could stay here tonight, then we can hole up at the motel -"
Sam swayed, grabbed onto his brother's arm. "This ends today," he said desperately. "One way or another."