Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way! This story was requested by Emerald-Water.

Summary: Sequel to Sacrificial Son. It's been ten years since Sarina, but a new hunt involving the bodies of teenage boys lined up on a river's edge is bringing back horrible memories for Dean; just what he needs after losing his father.

Tag to Bloodlust. WILL HAVE SPOILERS FOR THIS EPISODE!

Dean is 27 and Sam is 23.

"Sam, don't. Please." Dean tensed the second he sensed his brother reaching for his bruised hip. "Just leave it."

Sam stopped immediately. "You know I can't just ignore it, Dean. I just need to know what the damage is, okay?"

"Wanna be left alone."

"Dean…"

"'m losin' it, Sammy." Dean's jaw trembled till he clenched it tightly shut, trying to hang onto what was left of his masculinity. Maggie really had taken just about everything from him.

"You're still detoxin', man. It's all part of the drugs. You're gonna be back to normal just as soon as they wear off. I promise." Sam sat down on the edge of the mattress, barely fighting his own exhaustion. "I know you're scared, Dean, but no one is gonna hurt you here, alright? Do you trust me?"

Dean blinked back the tears that were blurring his vision. "You know I do."

"Good. Then believe me when I say you're safe now, and you get to call the shots." Sam knew his brother was still suffering emotionally from his recent ordeal and the last thing he wanted to do was scar him further by forcing him into anything against his will. "But I need you to be sensible about this, okay? I'm trustin' you to make the right decision here. So how badly does your hip hurt? And be honest with me."

"I'd give it a five."

"Dean…"

"Fine. Eight-ish then."

"Alright. It's probably just badly bruised, but I won't know that for sure unless you let me look at it. What do you say?"

Dean sighed. "Okay," he practically whispered.

Sam smiled in gratitude. "Thank you. I'll make this as quick as possible." Feeling slightly awkward, he reached out towards his brother's jeans.

Dean quickly batted his hand away. "I've got it," he grumbled before unbuttoning and unzipping his fly. "Hurry up."

Nodding, Sam slid his waistline down until he found the other end of the bruise. The black and blue mark was roughly the size of a softball and followed along Dean's hip bone. As Sam began his prodding, he struck up a conversation to distract his brother from the pain and discomfort of the situation. "Wanna tell me how this happened?"

"Fell."

"What, down stairs?"

"Off the bed. Thought I saw Yellow Eyes. Freakin' drugs… Ow!"

"Sorry."

"Tried to run 'n forgot I was cuffed. Edgar's boot didn't exactly help any either."

"Shit, Dean… You want to talk about it?"

"No."

Knowing Dean would have to come to terms with everything at his own pace, Sam didn't push him. "Well, it's too late to try and stop the swellin', but we could put some ice on it to ease the pain a bit."

"Nah. 's alright. Ribs hurt worse."

Oh, right… "Want me to wrap them again?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Let's get you up then…" Sam eased his brother's jeans back up around his waist and then grasped Dean's good shoulder to help lever him into a sitting position. "Easy though…"

Dean groaned at the height change, swallowing convulsively to keep his stomach from revolting again. His throbbing back didn't exactly help matters either.

Once Dean was more or less vertical, Sam started weaving the bandage around his lower ribs, making sure it was tight enough to support the broken ones but loose enough for Dean to breathe comfortably. "How's that feel?"

"Not bad, Sammy." Dean flashed him a small smile that nevertheless comforted his little brother. Dean was still in there somewhere, and he hadn't given up yet.

"Anything else I should know about?" Sam tried, hoping his brother would continue being honest with him.

"Nothin' you don't already know."

"Okay… But, Dean… What about…?" Sam trailed off, unsure of how to approach the subject.

"What about what, Sammy?" The guarded tone in Dean's voice made it pretty obvious he knew exactly to what his brother was referring.

"She said she was pregnant, Dean."

Dean closed his eyes, looking twice his age, and shook his head. "I don't remember, man. The drugs… They really screwed with my head. For all I know, she was makin' the whole thing up."

"Yeah. She probably was," Sam agreed, not wanting to trouble Dean about something they'd more than likely never know the truth about. "Speakin' of the drugs though, how are you feelin'?"

"I think they're startin' to finally wear off. I just feel exhausted. And sore."

"I'll bet. Try to get some more sleep while you can then. Sun's gonna be up in a few hours."

"Yeah… Hey, Sammy?"

"Huh?"

"Thanks, for… you know. Just, thanks."

"Of course. Close your eyes and relax. I'll be right here if you need anythin'." Sam pulled up the chair and sank down into it once he had helped Dean get comfortable again.

As time passed without incident, Sam managed to fall asleep as well. A few hours later though, he was jolted awake by the sound of his brother retching. "Dean!"

Dean was hanging over the side of the bed again, cradling his throbbing ribs with his busted wrist and using his good arm to keep himself off the floor, though it was shaking violently beneath his weight.

Sam scrambled to his feet, nearly falling at first due to the lack of circulation in his legs from the uncomfortable position he had fallen asleep in, and lunged towards the bed to help his brother.

Dean gasped in air as the fire continued to race through his veins. He had thought this part was over. He had thought the drugs were finally out of his system. He had thought he was going to get through this. He sure as Hell didn't think it would keep attacking him in waves.

"Easy, Dean. Easy… Just breathe…" Sam soothed, doing his best to keep Dean balanced. "I've got ya…"

Painful spasms shot through Dean's body as he shivered, making every muscle, every organ, every fiber of his being scream out in pain. When the nausea finally passed, he slumped wearily into his brother's strong arms, resting his head on Sam's thigh.

"I can't do this anymore, Sam," he whimpered. "I'm gonna die, just like all those other kids…"

"No, Dean. No you won't. You know why?"

Dean shook his head, fighting back the urge to dissolve into tears again.

"Cause you've got somethin' those kids didn't have. You've got me. I'm gonna get you through this, man. No matter what it takes."

"Need the drugs, Sammy… Please."

"We don't have any, Dean," Sam lied, positive that a part of his soul died in the process.

"You gotta make it stop."

"Shh… You're gonna be okay, man." Sam started to gently rock Dean in his arms again, hoping the older man might feel some comfort through the action.

"'s never gonna end…"

"Yes it will. It'll all be over soon. Just hang on." Checking his watch, Sam realized it was just after six in the morning. "Sun's gonna be up soon."

"Wanna go home, Sammy…" Dean grumbled, on the verge of either falling back asleep or passing out. He was beyond exhausted.

Sam put a hand against his brother's forehead and felt the heat instantly. Dean just couldn't catch a break these days.

A tired but concerned looking Ellen knocked softly on the door before stepping inside to check on her guests. "How're you boys doin', Sam? Did you get any sleep?"

"He's still burnin' up, Ellen. I dunno how to help him anymore. The drugs just don't want to quit," he admitted softly, hoping Dean was out of it enough to not hear.

Staring down at the huddled boys, both of whom looked desperate for help, Ellen stepped closer to the bed, moving slowly so as not to alarm the eldest. "Dean, Sweetie? Can you hear me?"

Dean's eyes cracked open and moved towards her, then continued right past. He shifted restlessly in Sam's arms as though he could feel the scrutiny and just didn't know where it was coming from. He seemed to be staring right through her.

Ellen cupped his cheek gently to halt his wandering eyes and turned his head in an attempt to get him to focus on her. "Come on, Honey. I know you're in there somewhere…"

When their eyes finally connected, he gave her the most pathetic, watery-eyed puppy dog look she had ever seen. He was wounded, scared, lost, confused, and begging for someone to make it all better. She smiled back, lovingly. "I hear you, Baby. Just hang in there a bit longer for me, alright?"

Dean nodded, practically pouting. That, combined with his disheveled hair and the way he was curled up in his brother's lap tugged at Ellen's motherly instincts again and she just had to smile. "We're gonna need some more ice."

"On it," came a gruff voice from the doorway. Glancing over her shoulder, Ellen nodded to Bobby who was always an early riser, especially when he was worried about something such as the Winchester boys. Wiping the tiredness from his eyes and readjusting his baseball cap, he headed off towards the bar to get ice for the second time that night.

Without warning, the cramps started back up with a vengeance and Dean's body seized, sending excruciating pain through his nervous system and muscles. If his mouth hadn't involuntarily been clenched shut, he probably would have been screaming bloody murder as his back arched to an absurd angle.

"Lay him down flat, Sam!" Ellen instructed. "Give him some room."

Sam quickly and carefully returned Dean to the mattress and backed away. He wanted to continue holding his brother until the pain had passed, but he knew restricting his movements in any way would just cause him more pain in the end.

Dean's eyes were wide open now and he looked terrified.

"I need you to focus on my voice, Dean…" Ellen stated confidently, needing to give the boy something else to focus on. "The cramps will pass, alright? Just hang in there a bit longer… I know you're scared, but don't fight it, understand? You need to try and relax. Just let it run its course…"

After what felt like hours but in reality was less than a minute, the seizure finally let up and Dean collapsed back onto the bed, eyes clenched shut and chest heaving.

"That's it… Good boy. Just breathe now…" Ellen soothed, taking up the washcloth and dabbing it over Dean's fevered skin in her daughter's absence. "You're gonna get through this, Sweetie."

Dean wanted to clench his fists in the blanket he was laying on but even the tips of his fingers were throbbing to the frantic beat of his heart. Every inch of him felt like it was on fire from the inside out. He was terrified to risk moving a single muscle for fear that it might set off another seizure.

Bobby came back and quickly put some ice packs together when he saw how quickly Dean's state had gone downhill. Sam and Ellen worked together to spread the packs over Dean's shaking body.

"How long is this gonna continue, Bobby?" Sam asked, not sure he really wanted an answer.

"When it comes to experimental drugs, Sam, your guess is as good as mine. Basically, it ain't over till it's over."

Sam sat back down at his brother's side, wishing there was more he could do to help ease his pain. Reaching out, he drew Dean's good hand into his own. After a brief hesitation, he felt Dean gently squeeze back before the elder Winchester's strength left him and he fell back into blissful darkness.

TBC

Thank you guys so much for your continued support and reviews! I wanted to get a second chapter up for you all to make up for lost time. Please keep those comments coming and I'll do my best to keep writing as well!