1Disclaimer: Don't own um, just wish I did.
Sam placed a hand on Dean's forehead. His skin felt cold and clammy. He was so pale that Sam was having trouble determining what was Dean and what was old hotel sheet. His breathing was shallow and came out in short, rapid bursts. Sam quickly took his pulse. It was weak, but rapid. It was just as Sam feared. Dean was going into shock.
Sam was now in panic mode. After pacing the room for several minutes he collapsed into a chair. He took several deep breaths to try and calm down enough to think things through. His panic soon turned to anger. He was angry at Dean for letting this happen. But mostly he was mad at himself. If it were him lying on that bed then Dean would know what to do. He always knew what to do. He never panicked and was always there for Sam. Dean would probably already know what was going on and have it fixed. Hell. Dean would of known something was wrong before anything even happened. It had always been like that.
Sam knew his brother and could usually tell when something was wrong and what Dean was feeling. Usually being the key word. Dean on the other hand ALWAYS knew what 'his' Sammy was feeling. Dean often knew before Sam. When they were younger he had found it to be comforting. He always felt safe knowing that Dean understood him and would always know what to do. Without him Sam would of never made it out of their childhood sane. Their father knew nothing of Sam's real wants and needs. But with Dean there it was bearable.
When they got into their teens Sam found the whole thing to be annoying. The harder he tried to hide his emotions the easier it seemed for Dean to know them and the harder it became for Sam to know Dean's. He wasn't sure which was more frustrating. Dean knowing EVERYTHING or Sam knowing nothing. Dean knowing he was frustrated was frustrating enough. He was just glad that since they were grown know Dean at least pretended to be oblivious. He wasn't, but he tried not to let it show. That much.
Sam's thoughts turned to their childhood and how hard it had been for them. Looking back on it now made him really think about how estranged it was. They never stayed anywhere for more then a month. Never long enough to make friends or create a feeling of home. When he was little it didn't matter to Sam. He had Dean and that was all he needed. Dean was the equivalent of fifty friends, only better. To Sam home was always wherever Dean was. His thoughts were interrupted by a deafening groan.
"Dean!"
He rushed over to the bed. Dropping to his knees he scooped Dean's hand into his own. At the sound of Sam calling his name Dean's eyes slid open.
"Sammy?"
"It's okay, Dean. I'm right here. You're okay."
"Sammy. What's goin on?"
"To tell you the truth I don't really know. What's the last thing you remember?"
"I was hustling some guy at pool. Where are we? What happened?"
"We're in the hotel. You mean you don't remember the fight or waking up screaming in agony. You don't remember all the blood."
"Sammy! What are you talking about? What's going on?"
Dean tried to sit up but his face contorted in pain. He grasped his stomach and laid back down.
"Dean!"
"Sammy? What's going on? Tell me."
Sam tried as hard as he could to suppress the anger and panic, but quickly became overwhelmed.
"Why don't you tell me! You're the one who went and got plastered last night. You're the one who had to go and start some little riot! I was the one that had to drag your sorry ass out of there. Then to top off that little outing you had to bleed and puke all over the Impala.. I had to scrub it out for over TWO hours! We wouldn't big brother to get upset about his baby, now would we? If only you had just left me alone! Jess would still-"
Sam fell silent as he looked at Dean's face.
"Sammy..."
His voice soft and comforting. All of Sam's anger melted away as the worry came flooding back. He sat next to Dean on the bed. A few tears managed to escape as he looked his brother over. Some of his color had returned, but he was still clutching his stomach. Even though sweat poured out of him his teeth were violently chattering. He placed a weak, shaking hand on his little brother's shoulder.
"I'm so sorry Dean! It's just that I was so scared and I didn't know what to do."
"Explain what happened."
"Well, you woke up screaming so I came over to the bed to see what was wrong. You kept mumbling about your stomach so I looked and there was blood pouring out of you. I tried to stop it and it seemed like it took forever. I got you cleaned up, but I couldn't find where it came from."
"What do you mean?"
"Lift up your shirt."
Dean gingerly pulled his shirt up enough so that they could see his stomach. He gasped at what was there. A small ugly scar he had never seen was surrounded by a deep purple bruise. Both of there eyes widened as they watched the bruise creep to Dean's side.
"Sammy! What's happening to me?"
His voice was filled with a few types of emotion Sam had never heard from him before. Fear and panic...
How did ya like. Magic? Crap? Just wanna know.