A/N: They get back to the salvage yard and Sam mothers Dean as he heals. Thank's for coming along for the ride. Reviews/Comments would be great. NC

Chapter 2

Bobby heard Dean moving around in the back from the soft moans and grunts of pain. He looked over at Sam and saw he had heard it too as he looked with concern to the back at his brother.

"I think we should stop and get something to eat and stretch our legs," Bobby suggested.

"Okay, that sounds good," Sam agreed. "Is that okay with you Dean? Think you could eat something?"

"I guess," Dean rasped out, clearing his throat, and looking around for the bottle of water to sip on.

"I'll start watching for a decent place, maybe one with tables outside. Don't need anyone questioning the blood on Dean's clothes."

"I'll get him another shirt at least to put on," Sam offered. "He'll probably need to use the restrooms."

"Good idea Sam. You're doing a good job of taking care of your brother."

"Thanks," Sam replied shyly. "He's been taking care of me all my life, it's my turn now. I can lend a helping hand when he needs it."

"I don't need taken care of," Dean butted in with a grumble from the backseat.

"Keep telling yourself that," Sam smirked getting the finger from Dean.

"Bitch," Dean mumbled under his breath.

"Jerk," Sam quickly responded with a small smile. At least Dean was starting to act like himself, so he hoped that meant there were no lasting damage from his head injuries.

"Okay, you two," Bobby cautioned them knowing how they teased each other. "There's a truck stop a couple of miles ahead that should suit our needs. Why don't you two go the restrooms and I'll get our food ordered to go. What do you guys want?"

"I'll have a chef salad, Ranch dressing," Sam offered. "And an iced tea to drink."

"Cheeseburger, fries, and soda," Dean added. "You need to eat some meat, Sammy. How else are you going to put some meat on your shinny body?"

"You sure Dean?" Bobby questioned. "Might want to go lighter for a day or so."

"I like salads," Sam pouted. He didn't get them often because John usually took them to greasy, fast food places that were cheap and unhealthy.

"I'm good. A burger will taste good," Dean insisted. "You don't know what good food tastes like."

"Leave your brother alone Dean. He can get what he wants just like you." Bobby signaled to move over a lane so he could exit the highway at the next exit. He slowed the car as he took the ramp and waited for the light to change so he could turn and head for the truck stop. He pulled into the parking lot and over to an area that had picnic tables at the corner of the building to park. "Okay, you two, go do your thing and I'll get the food."

"Alright," Sam nodded. "Can you open the trunk so I can get Dean a clean shirt, well, at least one that's not bloody?"

"Sure, you watch your brother Sam," Bobby told him as he went around to the back of the car and opened the trunk for Sam before heading inside to the restaurant side of the business.

"I will," Sam assured him. He got Dean's duffle and rummaged around in it pulling out a shirt. "Can you get out?" Sam asked Dean as he watched him try to maneuver his body out of the back seat and swearing when he didn't make it the first time. "Let me help," Sam offered reaching a hand in and grasping his arm to help him out. He ignored Dean's grumbling and swearing as he pulled him forward and out of the car.

"I got it," Dean fussed as he tried to straighten up and not fall. He was dizzy and leaned back against the car until it passed, trying to act like nothing was wrong, but it didn't get by Sam. "I'm fine."

"Here, put this on," Sam told him holding out the shirt for Dean and disregarding his 'I'm fine' comment knowing it wasn't true. He waited as Dean pulled his shirt over his head and couldn't stop from sucking in a sharp breath when he saw the bruises riddling his torso, front and back. He wanted to ask him what happened last night but didn't think now was the best time to do that. He clenched his jaw to keep from spouting out his questions and instead helped Dean get his shirt on, pulling it down his body. "Come on, let's go find the restrooms," Sam told him taking his hand and putting it on his shoulder for support. He was happy when Dean didn't jerk away and left it there, gripping it tightly as they started to move slowly toward the front doors.

Once they walked inside, Sam looked around for the sign for the restrooms and guided them through the racks of merchandise toward the back where the restrooms were located. They went inside and Sam was happy they were alone for now. He watched Dean as he stepped into a stall while he used the urinal and washed his hands.

"Sammy," Dean called softly to him.

"Yeah, is something wrong?"

"No, but you might want to wait outside," Dean continued as farting noises came from behind the door. "It's going to get stinky in here."

"Oh, right," Sam replied and wrinkled his nose as more unsettling noises reached his ear. "I'll be just outside." Sam hurried out of the restroom and leaned against the wall at the doorway to wait on Dean. He wasn't surprised after his bout with gas and diarrhea earlier. He cocked his head to listen for the water coming on, so he'd know Dean was okay. Just when he was about to go back in and check on him, Dean stepped carefully from the restroom. "Are you okay?" Sam asked, the freckles across Dean's nose stood out starkly against his pale face.

"Yeah, don't worry so," Dean fussed at him. He didn't say anything else as he grasped Sam's shoulder again for support since his legs were weak and he didn't want to face plant in the middle of the store.

"Let's go find Bobby," Sam told him guiding them back to the front doors. They stepped out into the sunlight and squinted as their eyes adjusted. Sam headed back to where the car was parked and saw Bobby sitting at one of the picnic tables that was shaded by a tree.

"Here you go boys, have a seat," Bobby told them pushing cartons to the other side of the table along with drinks.

"Thanks, Uncle Bobby," Sam smiled as he let Dean sit down first being sure he was stable before sitting down too. He opened his container to see a large chef salad with Ranch dressing on the side. His mouth began to water, but he glanced over at Dean as he opened his container and looked at the food. Without asking, Sam reached and tore open the ketchup packages for Dean, squirting a mound of ketchup beside his fries. He swallowed hard when the red mound looked like blood and glanced away.

Sam poured the dressing over his salad and took a bite, chewing slowly. He opened crackers and ate one before sipping on his tea. He sighed happily, thinking food never tasted so good. He continued to eat, doing it slowly instead of scarfing it down like he wanted to. He looked over at Dean who had eaten about a third of his burger and a few fries when suddenly he gagged twice and lurched up, stumbling to a trashcan nearby.

Dean felt his stomach twist and cramp after his last bite of burger and felt it coming back up. He gagged and choked and knew he couldn't stop himself from throwing up. He spotted the trashcan and wobbled up heading to it as the first of the burger came back up. He felt the cramping as he spit the undigested food out and tried to get a breath. He gagged again and felt his mouth fill again with bile and acid.

"It'll be okay," Sam whispered as he rubbed Dean's back. He had gone to the car and got a bottle of water for him. When it looked like he was done throwing up, Sam offered him the water and a napkin. "Here, rinse your mouth out."

Dean accepted the open bottle of water and napkin and sipped some, swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out. He did it again trying to rid his mouth of that awful bitter taste.

"Why don't you maybe try a fry and see if it settles on your stomach? The salt might do you good," Sam offered as Dean straightened up and wiped his mouth with the napkin.

"Where's Uncle Bobby?" Dean questioned his voice rough and hoarse. He quickly glanced around and was happy no one else was out here to see him puking.

"He went to get you a ginger ale to drink," Sam replied taking Dean's arm and helping him back to the table. "I'd eat the fries without ketchup."

"Okay," Dean mumbled picking up a fry and biting off a small bite to see how it would sit on his stomach. His stomach growled softly and rolled, but he didn't feel as sick. He took another bite and chewed slowly, before swallowing.

"Here you go son, sip on this," Bobby told him sitting a ginger ale at his elbow.

"Thanks," Dean nodded, starting to reach for it, but Sam beat him to it and opened it for him. "Dude, I'm not helpless," he grunted, giving Sam his own bitch face.

"Just helping," Sam shrugged as he ate another bite deciding not to overdo it and stopped. He would take the rest with him and snack on it as they headed on to Sioux Falls. He didn't want to have a repeat of what Dean just suffered through.

"How's the head?" Bobby asked Dean as he continued to eat his own food.

"It's fine," Dean answered.

"How 'bout the truth this time?" Bobby questioned. "Can't fool me with that answer boy."

Dean glanced up at Bobby and quickly dropped his eyes back to the table. He should have known better than to try and fool him.

"Still hurts, but it's eased a little," Dean finally admitted.

"Still unsteady on your feet it seems. Is your vision blurry?"

"Not really, just hard to concentrate on anything and yeah my balance is still off."

"Sounds about right for a concussion. You'll need to take it easy for a few days and let your body heal."

"Plan on it," Dean agreed.

"I can help you Uncle Bobby," Sam piped up. "I've gotten good at research and I'm learning how to cook too."

"Is that so? Well, that's good Sam and I'd been happy to have you help me," Bobby praised him knowing he didn't get much of that with John. "If you two are done eating, why don't you take a walk around here to stretch your legs before we finish our trip?"

"Okay," Sam said. He got up and put his leftover food in the car before hurrying back to help Dean and keeping a grip on his arm when he got up and led them around the grassy area. He walked slow and carefully, being patient with his brother as he walked beside him. He could feel a slight tremble in Dean's body as he slightly tightened his hold so he wouldn't stumble and fall.

"I'm going to the restroom, and we'll get back on the road," Bobby told them as he got up to throw away his trash. He headed back inside as the brothers walked back to the car and Sam got Dean in the back again. He refolded his blanket to make a pillow and gave him the remaining ginger ale in case he wanted more.

Dean eased into the back and didn't have to be told to lay down, he felt drained and still weak and hoped his stomach stayed calm and he didn't need to toss his cookies again. He accepted an empty bag from Sam in case he needed it.

Sam settled in the passenger seat and glanced back at Dean to be sure he was okay. His eyes were closed but he knew he wasn't asleep. His face was slightly pinched like he was in pain and the bruising on his face was more prominent now. At least he didn't seem to be running a temperature, which was good. He hoped the rest of the trip would be easy on him.

It didn't take Bobby long to join them and they continued their journey to Sioux Falls. He stopped one time for gas and to let the boys use the facilities before finishing their drive.

spn

The gates of the salvage loomed ahead of them as Sam pushed himself up in his seat and smiled, happy that their trip was almost over now. As soon as they pulled through the gates and drove up the driveway to the house, Sam felt relief and like a burden was lifted off his shoulders. He knew they would be safe here and that Bobby would look out for them.

"Dean, we're here," Sam called to him as he got out and flipped the seat forward out of the way. He saw Dean stir and carefully push himself up from the seat to a sitting position.

"Why don't you boys get settled inside while I run to town to get some supplies. I wasn't expecting company and I am running low on things." Bobby opened the front door for them and waited for them to go inside before leaving to run into town.

"Okay," Sam nodded, giving Dean a hand from the back. Once Dean was standing and leaning against the car, Sam moved to the back for their duffels before going back to Dean and helping him up the steps and into the house. "Why don't we go upstairs, and you can get a shower and put on some clean clothes? Maybe you should take some more pain meds and lay down?"

"So, you're my mother now?" Dean growled out not liking he wasn't in control and didn't want to show weakness.

"No, but someone needs to take care of you so you can get better, and that's me," Sam offered guiding them to the stairs. He looked up them and drew in a deep breath as he got a good grip on Dean before carefully starting up them. It was slow going as Dean swayed several times almost losing his balance and falling. When they finally got to the top, Sam let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll get you some sleep clothes while you get a shower," he offered releasing Dean so he could go into the bathroom while he went into their bedroom.

Sam set their duffels on the beds so he could get out clothes for Dean first and then moved it to the floor out of the way. He turned down the twin bed near the door that was Dean's bed before stepping across the hall and listened first to hear the shower running. He cracked the door and reached in to put the clothes on the counter, keeping his eyes adverted from his brother's naked body. With that done, he headed downstairs to see if Bobby had some bottled water to take a couple upstairs for them. Sam thought once Dean was settled in bed, he'd gather their dirty clothes and wash them. Both were out of any clean ones.

It wasn't long before Dean came out of the bathroom and stepped into the bedroom to see his bed was ready and Sam had some Tylenol and a bottle of water sitting on the nightstand waiting on him. His head was hurting, and the shower had drained him of any energy he had. He dropped onto the side of the bed and reached for the pills and water to take them.

"Let me check your head injury," Sam told him moving to his side to peel the tape and pad away. "I probably should put a dry pad on it," he mumbled to himself. He dug the first aid kit out and got a clean pad and tape.

Dean was too weary to fight with him and sat still while Sam fussed over him. Once the pad was replaced, Dean eased himself onto the mattress, stretching out sighing softly. He watched Sam through slitted eyes as he gathered their dirty clothes and pulled a laundry basket from the closet to put them in. He huffed when Sam straightened his blanket and tucked him in before heading out of the bedroom with the basket. Dean rolled his head and grimaced with the pain before finding a comfortable position and relaxed. Things would be okay now, he thought, but he still hated leaving the house without being able to let their Dad know. He listened to the familiar sounds around him and let them lull him into a light sleep.

spn

After Sam got the washer loaded and running, he wandered into Bobby's office to use his computer to research concussions, so he'd know if Dean was getting worse or better. He sat in Bobby's desk chair and took a deep breath drawing in the smells of Old Spice, whiskey, and old books. This was a safe haven for him and liked that Bobby treated him more like an adult than a kid.

It took the computer a few minutes to boot up and he went online to look for articles on concussions, scanning the information to educate himself on his brother's condition. He wanted to be knowledgeable, so he'd know if his condition got worse and needed medical attention. He re-read the part about waking a concussed person every hour or so to be sure he was okay and glanced at the clock to see how long since he left Dean upstairs. He would go check on him once the clothes were done washing.

Sam shut the computer down and headed into the kitchen looking around trying to decide what to do to keep himself busy. He didn't like to be idle and went to the sink to wash the few dirty dishes Bobby had left there. Once that was done, he checked the fridge and tossed a couple of things that looked like a science experiment in the trash and wiped down the shelves. He cleaned the top of the stove and counters and swept the floor thinking Bobby would be pleased with his work.

He found the bread and peanut butter and made a half sandwich to eat while he waited. He filled a glass with ice and ran water into it to drink. Sam opened the backdoor and went out onto the deck, looking around seeing hardly anything had changed since they had last visited quite a while ago. The sun was going down and a warm breeze was blowing through the yard, ruffling his hair. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, letting the warm air blow across his face cooling him.

As he chewed the last of his sandwich, Sam's mind wandered as he thought about what he knew now and how his life had changed since learning the truth. He still had his doubts about hunting after seeing what it did to their father and how it changed him. He was obsessed in his need for revenge, and it seemed he put his boys second with this.

It wasn't long before Sam heard the buzzing of the washer going off and headed back in to put the clothes in the dryer. Once that was done, Sam headed upstairs to check on Dean and wake him.

"Hey dude, wake up," Sam called to him shaking his shoulder and quickly dodged a weak punch from Dean.

"Mmmm…." Dean grumbled as he pulled himself from sleep.

"I'm supposed to wake up every hour or so to check on you," Sam told him as he felt his forehead only to have his hand slapped away by Dean. He huffed at him and did it again to get a sleepy, weak glare from Dean.

"Go…A'ay…" Dean slurred at him as he turned to his side and buried his head into his pillow, ignoring his brother.

Sam carefully felt his arm and neck thinking he felt warm and went to the closet to dig out a small fan they used in the summertime. He set it on the dresser and plugged it in, adjusting it, so it would rotate and blow toward Dean. He pulled the sheet back over his legs before standing by the bed to listen to his wheezy breathing for a few minutes. Satisfied that he was okay, Sam quietly left the bedroom and headed back downstairs to meet Bobby coming in the front door carrying bags.

"Here, let me help," Sam offered taking a couple bags from him to carry to the kitchen. "I'll start putting the food away for you."

"Thanks son, I'll go get the rest from the car," Bobby replied heading back out the front door.

Sam started removing canned items, dairy products, meats, fresh fruit and vegetables, pasta, drinks, milk, coffee, and paper products. He started putting the cold things into the fridge when Bobby came back with the rest of the food.

He glanced around the kitchen and noticed Sam had been cleaning.

"I see you kept busy son, thanks for cleaning the kitchen."

"You're welcome. It's the least I can do to help."

"How's your brother?"

"He felt a little warm when I checked him just before you got here. I researched concussions and woke him like it said. He wasn't very happy about that."

"Probably not, knowing your brother," Bobby chuckled knowing how cantankerous the older brother could be. "I got chicken tenders for dinner tonight and I didn't forget how much Dean likes pies and picked one up in the bakery."

"He'll love that. He doesn't get to have pie very often," Sam commented as he continued to put items in the cabinets. Sam didn't see the look of sadness cross Bobby's face before he hid it.

"I figured as much," Bobby mumbled trying to keep the anger from his voice. "Oh, I got you a crossword puzzle book to pass the time."

"Gee thanks, Uncle Bobby," Sam told him, his eyes lightening up with the treat. He accepted the book and looked at it for a moment before laying it on the counter to finish what he was doing.

"Wasn't much," Bobby said seeing Sam's reaction and smiling, glad he could give him some happiness. He didn't think Sam got may moments like that and felt sad for the young boy. He was an intelligent, sensitive, shy, kid who was growing up too fast. Just like Dean who had become an adult before he was five years old. He never got to be a kid and was following in his father's footsteps wanting to become a hunter. Bobby saw the potential in Dean to be one of the best hunters out there and knew he wouldn't change.

"Uncle Bobby," Sam called again when he didn't respond the first time.

"Yes Sam?" Bobby answered pulling himself out of his thoughts.

"Dean will be okay, won't he? I read a number of articles on concussions, and some were concerning."

"I think he'll be okay. He just needs some time to heal. You know head wounds bleed badly when they're not that serious. Besides, he's as hardheaded as your Daddy."

"I have to agree with that," Sam giggled out loud and quickly covered his mouth like it was a sin to do that.

"I have to do some research for a fellow hunter before fixing dinner, do you want to help me?"

"Yes, I'd be happy to. That's one thing about hunting I do like." Sam finished putting away everything and picked up his puzzle book. "I'll be in the living room when you're ready."

"That's fine, go relax," Bobby told him watching Sam stroll from the room. He was amazed at how Sam took everything in stride and was as well rounds as he was considering the life, he was being raised in. He was a special kid.