Vrskaandrea: Thank you, I get so nervous writing the fight scenes. I'm always worried that they wont translate too well going from my brain to the page. She has been a bit sloppy with cleanup lately but this time it was because she was more worried about Sams injuries than the body they left behind. She did at least give a half arsed attempt at covering their tracks! 50 chapters is quite an effort, though they are quite short, and I probably would have given up ages ago if it wasn't for your continued encouragement and support. xxx

Shazza19: (still love the name!) Yeah, poor Sam got a bit beaten around and the answer to your question...no, no she wont! x

Summer: I think a night of porn and sex with Dana would be quite the experience! If you're really quiet maybe you could hide in a corner and watch her and Caleb. 😆 Thank you for crawling out of your binge for my little fic, and yes, please, please leave more reviews!

CHAPTER 51

With Sam stitched up and passed out on the bed Dean fetched a bowl of warm soapy water and a cloth and gently cleaned him as best she could. She gathered up all the bloody clothing and soaked what could be salvaged in the tub and put the rest in a bag to burn, along with the hard drive. With that all taken care of she took a quick shower to clean herself then checked her own injury. The cut was deep and still leaking blood at a reasonable rate.

Dean knew it should probably be stitched but the adrenaline that got her through Sams care had begun to wear off and her hands were beginning to shake. She also didn't like the idea of having to stitch herself. She'd had to do that often enough when Sam was at college and John had abandoned her and the thought of not being able to self medicate with a large dose of whiskey really turned her off. Instead she applied a few butterfly strips then another adhesive bandage over the top. She was crashing and crashing fast so she dressed in her pyjamas and walked back into the room.

One last look at Sam showed him deathly pale. The amount of blood loss worried Dean but there was nothing she could do about it short of taking him to a hospital and they didn't have the insurance for that. His heart beat was steady and there didn't seem to be any sign of infection, yet. His skin was a bit clammy but Dean wasn't too worried about that just at the moment.

"Just a couple of hours sleep." She told herself as she lay in the bed and closed her eyes after a day that actually felt like years. Asleep in just moments both of the Winchester's slept for almost ten hours.

•

Dean woke with a start, cursing herself for sleeping so long when she noticed the sunlight coming into the room around the thin curtains. Checking Sam she found his colour much better and his skin was warm and dry. Sam stirred when she tried to lift one of the bandages to check the wounds.

"Hey Sammy." She crooned softly, gently grabbing his hands as he tried to fight her off him. "It's just me. It's Dean."

"D'n?" Sam croaked.

"Yeah." She answered. "How are you feeling? You want some water?"

Sam licked his lips and tried to swallow.

"Yeah, water." He said nodding.

He tried to sit up but groaned in pain and curled into a ball when he put too much strain on his wounds.

"Wait. Let me help you."

Dean gently helped Sam manoeuvre into a semi-sitting position then gave him a glass of water and held out a couple of pills.

"What're those?" Sam asked after he had consumed half the glass of water.

"Ones morphine and the other is an antibiotic." Dean said.

"Don't want them."

"Don't get a choice." Dean said, dropping them into Sams palm. "Just this one pain killer then if you don't want any more, okay, but you are going to have the antibiotics for at least three days just to make sure."

"You know unnecessarily taking antibiotics just makes you resistant in the future." Sam groused ad he took the tablets.

"Okay, whatever but I'm keeping a close eye on the stitches. Any sign of redness and you'll take them if I have to sit on you and force them down your throat myself." Dean threatened her brother.

"Okay, Fine, whatever." Sam said leaning back into the pilows and allowing his eyes to close.

"I'm going to get is some grub." Dean said getting off Sams bed and walking to her duffle.

"Mmmm hmm." Sam said, the morphine beginning to take effect.

•

Dean stopped by reception and paid for two more nights, not wanting to make Sam travel just yet. She then went to the grocery store and picked up some easy to prepare meals before returning to the motel.

"Rise and shine Sammy, I got you breakfast."

Sam slowly blinked awake and looked at the bowl Dean was holding out.

"What's this?" He asked, trying to sit up higher.

Dean out the bowl in the bedside table and helped Sam sit up.

"It's microwave oatmeal. I put some dried fruit and honey in it."

Sam looked at his brother.

"Why? You usually just get breakfast sandwiches from the closest diner." He said, accepting the food.

"Well, I figured you got hurt and could probably use the good food." Dean said taking a sip from a glass of orange juice.

"What's got into you? You're not usually this accomodating." He said.

"Jeez Sam. I do something nice for you and you act like its completely unheard of!"

"Sorry. This is great. I really appreciate it." Sam said trying to placate Dean with his saddest puppy eyes.

"Yeah whatever." Dean walked to the sink and tipped the remainder of her juice down the drain before rinsing the glass and setting it in the drainer.

"You not eating?" Sam asked.

"Already did."

Sam nodded slowly.

"So are we leaving after breakfast?"

"Nope. We're gonna hang here for a few days." Dean said flicking on the television and dropping on her bed. "Figured it would be cruel to expect you to sit in the Impala for two days back to Bobby's."

Again Sam thought this was strange but when her looked at his brother he saw she looked pale and tired as well so he let it go.

They spent the rest of the day with Sam napping on and off and Dean watching as much daytime TV as she could handle eventually resorting to games of patience to pass the time.

The next day Sam was feeling well enough to shower and sit at the table playing poker with Dean.

"We need to do some laundry before we go." Dean said as she arranged the cards in her hand.

"Okay, we'll finish this hand then head down."

"I was expecting more of a fight." Dean said putting two cards in the diss pile.

"Nah, I'm getting cabin fever being cooped up in this room. Even just doing laundry, it'll be nice to get out for a bit." Sam said with a shrug, discarding three of his own cards.

"Loser folds?" Dean challenged.

"You're on." Sam said.

It was close but Sam won with a full house of three and tens over Deans three of a kind.

"Ah shit!" Dean said, throwing down her two remaining cards. "Well a deals a deal. Get your crap and we'll get moving."

Sam went to gather his clothes, stuffing them in the bag on Deans bed.

"Don't you lift that." Dean warned as she stood. "Woah..."

Dean leaned over and placed both hands flat on the table top, leaning all her weight on it.

"Dean!" Sam said as he rushed to her side. "Are you Okay?"

"Yeah." She said, shaking her head a little. "Just stood too quickly, got a little light headed. I'm fine." She waves Sam away. "Can you go grab the clothes from the tub while I get my stuff sorted?"

"Sure." Sam turned to walk into the bathroom. "Anything else you need from in here?"

Sam turned to where Dean was still standing at the table in time to see her eyes roll back as she collapsed to the floor, hitting her head on the table edge on the way down.

"Dean!" He yelled as he ran to her side.

Sam carefully lifted Dean in his arms and rolled her over. He noticed a dark patch growing on her shirt and pressed his fingertips to it, they came away bloody.

"Dammit!" He cursed as he carefully lay her on the floor.

Lifting her shirts he noticed a large bloodstained bandage on her right side.

"God dammit Dean!" He cursed again.

Careful to not pull any stitches he got Dean to her bed and placed an ice pack on her forehead to slow the swelling and bruising then set to work removing the bloody covering, cursing Dean again at the sight that greeted him.

•

Dean woke with a grunt as Sam pushed the needle through her skin.

"Leave that." He said sternly grabbing her wrist to stop her from removing the ice pack on her head. "You hit your head."

"Wha? What happened?" Dean asked, looking down and flinching as Sam made another stitch.

"You passed out." Sam said unimpressed. "Clocked yourself good on the way down."

"Mmm hmm." Was all Dean could say as a small wave of nausea passed over her.

"Why didn't you say anything about this?" He demanded.

"Dunno. You were hurt. Had to take care of you." Dean said laying back in the pillows.

"So you walked around for two days with a gaping wound, losing I don't know how much blood?"

"It was fine Sammy. I took care of it." Dean flinched as Sam tugged harder than necessary as he tied off the thread and cut it.

"Clearly it wasn't! When was the last time you ate?" He asked.

"Dunno? Breakfast?"

"No, you had half a glass of juice and told me you already ate but I can't see any evidence of it. And yesterday, you barely ate a thing!" Sam scolded as he covered the stitches.

"Didn't feel like eating. Felt like crap." Dean said, swallowing against the rising bile in her throat.

"Course you didn't! You've been bleeding profusely for days!"

Sam watched Deans face rapidly drain of all colour and quickly put the waste paper basket in front of her as she suddenly lurched up and vomited what little she had in her stomach into the plastic bin. When she finished she lay back groaning and Sam helped her drink a small glass of water.

"Concussion can be a bitch but serves you right." Sam scolded.

"Sorry Sammy, but you were attacked by a werewolf and I had to make sure you weren't bit. Executing my baby brother isn't high on my list of things to do this week." Dean said laying back against the pillows again.

"Whatever Dean, but I'm going to get you something to eat and you're going to eat it." Sam said after washing out the bin. "You've gotta take care of yourself Dean! You're all I've got."

"Sorry Sam, really."

"No you're not. I thought we went through all this after the Incubus, but I guess you're just not ready or unable to let me help you." Sam dropped the bin beside Deans bed. "I'm going to get food."

And with that he stormed out the door.

•

Sam was still angry the next day.

"Concussions a bitch." He repeated as Dean was hunched over the toilet as the breakfast Sam had forced her to eat made a reappearance. "Anyway, Micah called, I have to go to the library and do some research for him. I know I should stay and keep an eye on you but you've so plainly shown you don't need or want me to help so I'll see you later."

And with that Sam walked out the door, slamming it him behind him.

Dean sat back against the wall in the darkened room.

"Concussions a bitch." She repeated.

Standing shakily to her feet she shuffled out the door and sat on her bed. She swallowed two more paracetamol then looked around the room. She wanted to do something for Sam to make up for this latest episode but there was something she needed to do first. All this talk of bleeding profusely reminder her that she needed to stock up on some things first. The pharmacy was a short walk from the motel where she could restock the first aid kit and there was a bookstore close by, at least according to google. Dean knew Sam would keep himself busy at the library for as long as possible so she had plenty of time to get to where she was going and do what she needed to do with out being disturbed by her brother.

•

Dean was gripping the edges of the basin tightly staring at her reflection. Her skin was pasty and she was sweating lightly.

"Concussions are a bitch." She said wryly.

Her cell began ringing in the other room. Tearing her eyes away from her reflection she walked into the other room. Checking the I.D. she accepted the call.

"Bobby." She said flatly.

"Dean? That you?" Bobby asked form the other end.

"Yeah. It's me."

"I got news." Bobby said, the excitement leaking down the phone line. "I found it."

"What?" Dean asked. "You really found it?"

"Yeah son. I did. My friend translated the spell and we are good to go."

Dean stayed silent as she sat on the bed.

"Dean? You there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here." Dean whispered into her phone.

"Huh, I thought there'd be a bit more enthusiasm about it." Bobby mused.

"Yeah well, I'd get excited but you know, we have that damn Winchester Luck." She said snapping out of her daze.

"Hmmm, think that may have already kicked in." Bobby said hesitantly.

"What are you getting at?"

"The spell has to be performed under a new moon. The last one for this cycle is tonight, even if you drive hell for leather you're not going to make it."

Dean was silent for a moment.

"But it's just a month right?" Dean asked.

"Right." Bobby agreed.

"Okay, Sam and me are on our way back."

"You don't need to rush. We got a month."

"No, we're coming."