A/N: Reviews feed me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters …

Shared Burdens

Chapter 5

Looking at Dean, Sam knew he wouldn't be able to deter his brother from the conversation he was demanding. Truth be told, he had neither the energy nor the desire to keep everything to himself any longer. Tired and defeated, he was forced to admit that he needed Deans help; either that or go straight back to the hospital. He hated hospitals.

"Dean …after that last job …you know …both of us got tossed around a bit …and the last day or so …I haven't been feeling so great."

"Why the hell didn't you say something?"

"Knew you wanted to get going …didn't want you to feel that I was …"

"Whoa whoa, hold on …if I'd known you weren't fighting fit… …Man, you should have told me you were sick."

"Dean, I know …I'm sorry. I just though that maybe if I rested for a couple of days… I'd like, get better …sorry."

Dean paced and rubbed his hands across his face. He didn't want to say the wrong thing and was trying to choose his words carefully.

"You've nothing to be sorry about. I'm the one that's dragged you …shit Sam, when you asked to stop for a couple of days, I just brushed you off…" Dean was distraught as he remembered Sam's request that they take a couple of days off to rest, and his blatant disregard of it.

"Yeah well" Sam said with a grimace of pain "Might have to stay put for a little while. Doc said I have to rest for a few days."

"Is that where you went this afternoon? You should have told me. I… …Sammy?" Dean paused as Sam let a small whimper of pain escape. He watched helplessly as Sam rolled onto his side almost curled into a fetal position. He moved quickly to sit on the edge of Sam's bed, resting a hand on his brother's forehead.

"Sammy, …what's wrong?"

"Dean. …could you go to the drug store …pick up some pain pills for me …doc said they'd help."

"Yeah, 'cause I will." Dean said, going to the dresser and picking up the prescription. He looked at Sam carefully, seeing the lines of pain and misery etched on his face that he was unable to hide.

"God Sam, why didn't you pick them up earlier." He whispered, not happy to see the pain Sam was in.

"I …didn't have enough cash …though the Tylenol would help." Sam said, closing his eyes.

Dean wanted to question Sam some more, but saw that Sam's plea for the pain relief needed to take precedence. Quickly throwing on the clothes that he'd tossed aside earlier, Dean shoved the prescription in his pocket and grabbed the car keys. Sam's eyes remained closed, but from his jagged breathing it was obvious he wasn't asleep.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. You gonna be okay 'til I get back?"

"Yeah."

Dean quickly left the motel, eager to find a drug store and get back to Sam as soon as possible. The closest drug store was only a block away, and Dean located it easily. Within five minutes he was leaving the store, pills in hand. They'd cost just over ten dollars.

Dean drove in silence from the drug store back to the motel, lost in thought. He knew that Sam hadn't bought the pills because of him. He'd been too stingy, too mean, to give Sam more than twenty dollars cash when he'd asked for a loan. He'd been too selfish to give Sam a couple days off to rest, too selfish to pick Sam up when he'd asked for a lift.

He let the self derision wash over him as he brought the car to a stop outside their motel room. Getting out of the car, he gave himself a mental shake, determined to snap out of his guilt and self-reproach. Now wasn't the time to wallow in his own shame. He needed to finally pull himself together and be there for Sam.

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Sam was still in the same position on the bed when he returned. Dean could see Sam's hand trembling slightly as it clenched the sheet. Filling a glass with water, Dean quickly returned to sit on the edge of Sam's bed.

"Here you go Sammy." Dean gently whispered as Sam moved a little to take the glass. Dean then opened the pill bottle, removing two pills and handing them to Sam.

After Sam had taken the pills, Dean put aside the rest of the glass of water and the pain pills, but remained perched on the edge of the bed. He watched his brother closely.

"Thanks Dean" Sam whispered, dropping his eyes under Dean's intent stare. He waited impatiently for the pills to take effect, doubting that he'd be able to sleep until the pain at least subsided.

"Sammy …what exactly did the doctor say?"

"I think he thought I was being abused or something." A small smirk escaped Sam's lips at the memory.

Dean didn't see the humor.

"I mean, when he saw all the bruises…" Sam explained.

"What bruises? …Show me." Dean demanded.

Without waiting for Sam's consent, Dean pulled the sheet down to Sam's waist and lifted up his brother's t-shirt. The color drained from Dean's face as he took in the mottled bruises covering Sam's abdomen and torso. He immediately understood why the doctor had been suspicious.

"Shit Sam" was all he could say as he gently pulled the t-shirt back down and reverently covered his brother again with the bed covers, smoothing them down.

"Sam." Dean said; a note of seriousness in his voice. "What exactly did the doctor say?"

"I've got a bit of bruising ..."

"Really, no kidding Sam." Dean responded sarcastically, before giving Sam a stern look to go on.

Sam sighed and paused a moment before solemnly continuing "I had some scans and stuff at the hospital and they think maybe I bruised a kidney …that the kidney might have a small tear. …Really, I just have to rest for a few days and it should heal by itself."

"Anything else …I want to know every thing Sam."

"I've got another appointment to go back for a check-up in a few days. That's it."

Sam could feel the pain medication finally start to take effect, and after his exhausting day, his eyes were growing heavy as the lull of sleep pulled at him.

" 'Kay Dean?" he whispered before giving in to the sleep beckoning him.

Dean watched as the lines of pain disappeared from Sam's face as he succumbed to sleep. Reassured by the now deep and steady breathing, he pulled the covers a little higher over Sam, tucking them around him, as he'd done when Sam was younger. He watched Sam for a few moments before preparing himself for sleep and lying down on the adjacent bed. It wasn't long before he too surrendered to sleep.

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Dean slept in late the next morning, but he was still the first one awake. After quickly checking on Sam, he got dressed before grabbing the hospital card off the dresser and leaving the room.

He walked the short distance to the Impala, leaning on the hood, before dialing the direct number of the doctor scrawled on the back of the card. Although he trusted Sam implicitly, he wanted to make sure he was fully conversant with all the details about his hospital visit. He wasn't prepared to take any chances with Sam's health.

Dean reached Doctor Hartman directly and explained who he was and his relationship with Sam; Sam Adamson. The doctor was unwilling to discuss Sam's case or answer any of Dean's questions over the telephone, sprouting off about doctor patient confidentiality. Dean had to respect the doctor's stand and gave him extra kudos for having ethics. Instead, they had a conversation based on hypotheticals. If a patient had a tear in their kidney, what would the symptoms be? How would it be treated? Dean continued to ask his hypothetical questions until he felt he fully understood Sam's injury. After thanking the doctor for his help and promising to keep Sam's follow-up appointment, Dean ended the call.

The call with the doctor hadn't brought Dean any relief. In fact, he was now even more concerned about Sam's injury than he was before and also a little angry that Sam had white washed over the need for complete bed rest. Bed rest for a couple of weeks, not just a few days. He was also fearful of the possible complications should Sam's kidney not heal itself.

Loaded with this new information, Dean returned to the room.

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Sam was just starting to rouse when Dean entered the room. Seeing him starting to wake, Dean quickly filled a glass of water and grabbed Sam's pain meds before going to his bedside. He didn't want Sam out of bed unnecessarily. He really didn't want Sam to move from the bed at all.

Sam looked at his brother through half open bleary eyes as he slowly came awake. Although he'd slept through the night, he still felt tired and very lethargic. He still felt sick. It seemed as though the room was slowly pulsating as everything moved in and out of focus, and Sam felt dizzy and disorientated as he fully opened his eyes.

TBC.

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A/N: I'm writing this story as I post each chapter, and I've now reached a cross-road. I fear that maybe this story is a little too detailed and could be dragging on (already well over 10,000 words). I don't have a beta so I have to ask – any suggestions or preferences as to where I should go from here?

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