A/N: Well, I still don't own the show Supernatural or any of its characters-but it has made me listen to hours of Metallica and AC/DC and other classic rock. I now have two classic rock stations preset on my car's radio, and listen to them as I drive to work. And yes, sometimes I can envision the Impala as I drive-I know, I'm pathetic :)
A/N 2: Thank you so much for your wonderful responses: Ghostwriter, pandora jazz, carocali, pizzapixie, Kaewi, kokomocalifornia, talon81, cutie-pie-rockchic, Michelle P., Beautiful Ally-I tried, but I'm not real good at the fluff, hope this is okay-and pmsdevil01. You all really make my day :) Slow chapter this time, but I figured they needed a break. Oh, and I know Sam gets off very lightly from his bear attack-but the bear isn't really the villain in the story and I couldn't bear (lol) for it to have done too much damage.
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"Sam!" Dean cried as he reached the unconscious form of his brother.
"Oh, Sammy." he said as he saw the bloody gash on the side of his brother's head, along with the blood on his shoulder and the many cuts from being dragged over the ground.
Carefully he turned Sam over onto his back to check for other injuries. Other than now ripped and slightly bloody clothing Dean didn't find anything vitally wrong. He was certain that Sam would have bruises, and there were definite scratch marks from sharp claws, but it was nothing worse than many of the times he'd had to patch his brother up after a hunt.
"Hey Sam, c'mon, wake up buddy." Dean said, looking down worriedly.
He gently fingered the head wound, thinking with relief it didn't look deep enough for stitches. He was cautiously probing his brother's shoulder when Sam moaned and his eyelids fluttered.
"Hey sleeping beauty, time to wake up." Dean coaxed.
Sam's eyes opened and he blinked, trying to determine where he was.
"Dean?" he croaked, and then noticed his big brother staring at him anxiously.
"Dean! You're here. What happened? Where are we? Are you okay?" Sam attempted to get up, and groaned in pain.
"Whoa, take it easy." Dean said, slowly pulling Sam into a sitting position.
He sighed with relief that his brother was awake, and almost hugged him. He didn't want to exacerbate any injuries however, so he settled for patting Sam's good shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm fine." he finally answered. "You're the one that was a bear's playmate. We're by the dig site where they found the kids' bodies. The ghost-possessed-bear brought you here. How're you feeling?" Dean asked gruffly, looking at his brother critically. He was relieved that Sam seemed fine, but wondered if the first aid kit would be enough, or if his brother rated a trip to the emergency room.
"I'm okay. I don't think the bear meant to hurt me; it just got pissed off all of a sudden. Did you do anything?" Sam asked, looking quizzically at his brother. He was glad Dean had found him, and performed his own scan of his brother, finally satisfied that Dean was all right.
"Oh. Um, well, you see, why don't I go get that first aid pack, no offense, but you look like you could use it." Dean said quickly, and making sure Sam could sit unassisted he nearly dived back down into the pit to grab his pack.
"Hey!" Sam called after him.
Sam blinked, now knowing that something was up. He carefully raised a hand to his head, feeling the ache there. His shoulder wasn't much better off. 'At least my ankle doesn't hurt anymore.' He thought wryly. Or maybe it did, his whole body felt like it had gone through a meat grinder-or dragged cross country. He guessed the latter had actually happened.
Dean soon reappeared, carrying his pack. He kneeled by Sam's side, first offering his brother a packet of painkillers and a bottle of water. Sam took both gratefully, and downed the pills with half the bottle. Dean then used the other half of the bottle of water to gently clean the blood off his head so he could get a better look at the wound.
"Well, you'll live." Dean finally pronounced, deciding to apply antiseptic and a bandage. Then he turned his attention to Sam's shoulder.
"What the heck is this?" he asked, fingering the damp bloody herbs.
"Oh, the bear-I mean the ghost-tried to help me. I think she was lonely, and wanted me to live and give her company." Sam said, wincing. "She must have known some folk medicine back then. It actually helped for awhile. Before the bear went crazy again, I mean."
He looked at his brother, who was proceeding to clean and bandage his shoulder. "Hmm." Was all Dean said.
Sam sighed. "So what happened?" he asked.
"Hold still." His brother replied, carefully cleansing the gash on his head with an antiseptic wipe.
Dean then bandaged the wound with gentle hands and sat back, eyeing the other cuts and bruises littering his brother's body. Deciding that they could wait until they reached the motel room, he put away his supplies and pulled out a couple of candy bars and another bottle of water, handing them over to Sam. Sam was beginning to have that look in his eyes, the look that said, 'I know you're holding something back and I'm going to find out what it is'.
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Sam yawned, and then blinked back the tiredness. He'd let Dean avoid answering his question when his brother said it might be a good idea to get out of the open in case the bear came back. Dean swept the area clean of any traces that they had been there and then shepherded Sam to the car.
"I can walk by myself, you know." Sam had protested his brother's helping hand.
"Yeah, and you can get grabbed by a bear yourself too." Dean shot back, refusing to let go.
Sam rolled his eyes, but secretly appreciated the support. He settled back in the passenger seat of the Impala, and debated about closing his eyes and taking a nap. The next thing he knew, there was a gentle touch on his uninjured shoulder and he startled awake, to see his brother's worried eyes looking at him.
"Hey," Dean said.
"Hey," Sam replied, looking out the window. They were already at the motel.
He managed to exit the car and make it into the room on his own, Dean following with their packs. The motel bed was the most beautiful sight to his weary body and he sank onto it gratefully.
"Don't fall asleep yet, you need to shower and clean off that dirt and then maybe soak in a bath to loosen your muscles so they don't lock up in the morning." Dean said, dropping their packs and closing the door.
Sam groaned. "I don't want to move."
"C'mon, I'll even let you have first go at the hot water." His brother persisted.
Sam sighed, and then heaved himself to his feet. He knew Dean was in full-out big brother mode and wouldn't stop hovering unless Sam took his advice. The proof came when his brother handed him clean sweats and underwear as he made his way to the bathroom.
"Thanks," he mumbled and could feel Dean's concerned gaze as entered the little room.
"Leave the door open a crack." He heard his brother say and rolled his eyes but complied.
Half an hour later he had to admit he felt better. Whether it was the warm water and soaking in the tub or the painkillers kicking in or the calories from the candy bars he'd scarfed down he couldn't say, but Sam's head was definitely clearer and his body ached less. All he needed now was sleep.
"About time you got out of there, figured I was going to have a prune for a brother." Dean joked.
Inwardly he was sighing with relief. Sam looked much better than he had at the park, and while Dean winced at seeing the cuts and bruises at least none looked infected. He had one more brotherly job to do before he felt he could rest for the night, even though it was early in the afternoon.
"Let me put some stuff on that shoulder and bandage your head, and then you can sleep all you want. "
"Fine," Sam grumbled good-naturedly, "but then it's your turn to shower and rest." He'd noticed how tired his brother looked, and realized Dean probably had kept going until he'd found Sam.
"Yeah, yeah." Dean said and then put the clean bandages on his brother.
"What about you? Did you get injured?" Sam suddenly asked.
"I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me." Dean noticed his brother examining him closely, and sighed.
"Yeah, my head was bleeding for a while but it stopped. Surface wound. See?" After cleaning up in the welcome center's restroom, there hadn't been any more bleeding. Dean was a pretty good judge of knowing how badly he'd been hurt during a hunt and this time his brother had the worst of it. A nice long hot shower and a good night's sleep and he'd be good as new.
Sam grunted when he saw his brother was really okay and finally threw back the covers and fell into bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Dean eyed him a moment and then carefully pulled the covers back over him. They hadn't even discussed what had happened, or what they were going to do, but at the moment he didn't care. Sam was safe.
Grinning, he whistled under his breath as he shed his clothes and dived into the bathroom. His brother had even left him some hot water, and several minutes later he emerged, gently toweling his wet hair. Grabbing some clean clothes, he put them on, and settled in his bed, sliding his knife under his pillow. He didn't bother setting the alarm, figuring they deserved to get as much rest as possible. Sam's light snoring was music to his ears and he drifted off to sleep, as the afternoon light began to fade into night.