A/n: Tochi: sorry this took so long, my old keyboard broke and the spacebar on this one works at it's own will.

Disclaimer: Linc: All we own is this toaster that calls it's self a computer, our almighty duct taped keyboard, an internet connection, Flap Jack's dead slapping fish, and a box… although I do want to buy that hobo….

Flap Jack: Buy a hobo? Wow you're insane.

Linc: I get to speak out side the Disclaimer! Yes, I know I'm crazy

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Dean watched his little brother twitching just a bit as he slept. Dean just felt so damn guilty and confused. Had Sam ever stopped cutting? If he had, why was he going back to it?

Questions continued swarming his brain giving him a headache. Dean rubbed at his temples and pushed himself up off his bed and marched to the bathroom, taking three Tylenol before tiding up the room just to have something to do.

He looked around the bathroom, frowning as he shuffled back out, fist aid kit in hand. He tucked it back into his bag, running a hand through his currently flat hair vaguely wondering if he should spike it up, give himself something else to do.

Just as Dean started to rummage through his bag to find his gel, he heard a soft moan from the other bed. His head snapped up and over at Sam, finding him up on his hands and knees, head bowed between his arms, blanket just barely clinging to his hips.

"Sammy?" Dean questioned, instantly by his brother's bedside, "Sammy, what wrong?" He asked, fearing one of the cuts was infected, and his brother was sick because of it.

Sam turned his head and looked at his brother glancing back down then back to Dean, "I rolled over… and it burst open." He said quietly.

"Your cut? Which one?" Dean asked, pushing his brother onto his side then pulling him into a sitting position, leaving the blanket over his hips to keep him from being embarrassed by that whole thing again, but pushing it up to look at his thighs.

Sam shakily touched the bandage over the deepest cut where the blood was clearly soaked through.

Dean looked it over before going back over to his bag and taking out the first aid kit again. Grabbing the scissors out of it and cutting off the bandage, grabbing more gauze and poring some alcohol over it before pressing it to the once again bleeding cut, Sam yelping and jumping at the pressure and stinging pain of sterilization.

"Fuck, Sam, I'm sorry, but you need to go to the hospital." Dean sighed with a shake of his head. "It's too deep, it needs stitches."

Sam frowned, bowing his head and looking away. He was pissed off at himself for doing this in the first place. There was no way he could ever tell Dean what went through his head. Dean could never know.

"Sam, get dressed." Dean instructed, finishing dressing himself and grabbing his keys.

The youngest Winchester reluctantly crawled out of the warm sheets, dressing himself quickly.

Dean looked at him a moment before taking his shoulder and leading him out to the car. He left Sam to stand by the passenger door while he went around to the driver's side.

Sam didn't wait instruction of his brother and slid into the car, pulling the door shut behind himself and leaning against it.

Dean looked over at his brother and frowned, still trying to figure out why his brother would do that. He'd watched him closely after Jess to make sure he wasn't being stupid, but it'd been almost a year now, why would he start that crap up again?

He shook his head and turned on the Impala, relaxing a bit as it roared to life. He backed out then drove off, looking around for one of the 'hospital' signs.

Sam shifted around in his seat, chewing at his lip. Damn he wanted to cut. Even though cutting was what got him in this mess, he wanted to do it again. It was his way to relieve stress. Let a little tension loose. Sometimes to punish himself for letting that happen to Jess.

He blamed himself for her death. He'd lied and told her everything would be fine. Then he left. He just left her alone to die.

Suddenly the urge was amplified like a magnifying glass was put before his emotions.

Sam squirmed a bit more, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket and watching his thigh, blood slowly seeping up a little spot showing. He'd have to wash these jeans, and his boxers too. They were probably bloody too. He'd have to do laundry again, just like he'd taken up doing, right when he took up cutting. He'd started doing that chore when unexplainable stains kept ending up on his jeans and boxers.

"You ok, Sammy?" Dean asked, looking over at him before focusing back on the road.

Sam nodded with a small sigh, wondering just what they would say when they got to the hospital. Just how would Dean manage to sweet talk and lie around this one?

Dean rolled into the parking lot, into the first space he saw and parked. He turned his baby off and put the keys back in his leather jacket before sliding out, pushing the lock down before closing the door.

He walked around the car and opened his brother's door, "Come on Sammy." He said patiently waiting for his brother.

Sam just shook his head, before tucking it down toward his chest.

"Sam, come on, you need to get that stitched up."

Sam shook his head again, his body tensing a bit.

Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before reaching in and grabbing his upper arm and dragging him out.

Sam gave a low whine as he was forced out of the car and shifted a bit, seeming uncomfortable in his own skin. Dean locked his door and pushed it shut before grabbing his arm again and trying to pull him along again.

Sam didn't budge.

"Sam, I'm loosing my patience, now come on." Dean half growled, tugging again.

Sam shook his head, giving another whine, still trying to sink into the floor.

"Fine, don't move, I'll just have to move you." Dean said in an annoyed tone, quickly curling an arm behind Sam's knees the other going to his back as he lifted his brother.

Sam frowned, squirming more and trying to get down.

"I'm not putting you down, Sam, this is the only way I'm getting you in there."

Sam frowned and stilled, Dean beginning motion. He carried him into the building, his face turning slightly red, his arms shaking a bit beneath the weight of his brother.

He carried him until they got to the front desk then gently let him down.

"Hi, Sam needs stitches, he cut his leg open, it's pretty bad."

The nurse nodded and came around the desk, "May I see the cut?"

"It's kinda up on his thigh, I don't think he'd enjoy that too much." Dean said giving her a sweet smile.

"Oh, alright, let's get you to a room then." She said with a nod, going around the desk again and picking up a manila folder and some papers before coming around again, "Follow me."

"Are you going to go on your own, or am I going to have to carry you, baby brother?" Dean asked, looking up into his brother's eyes.

He saw the brief flash of hurt and betrayal in his eyes, a slight flush coloring his cheeks before he slowly followed after the nurse.

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Tochi: Sorry this took forever, I've been school works bitch, and as I previously mentioned, I got a new keyboard, but this was the perfect chance to break it in!.

Flap Jack: Read, review, alert, join army, you know the drill by now.