The journey to the car was an arduous one, colored with pain and exhaustion and interspersed with a repertoire of impressive curses. Sam was all but carrying Dean when they finally reached the classic 1967 Impala that sat gleaming in the moonlight.

Sam propped Dean up against the car long enough to open the passenger door, then gently guided his brother into the front seat. He quickly stored the duffel bag in the trunk and then tiredly slipped into the driver's seat. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes for a minute.

"M, Igettinbloodhoner?"

At Dean's incomprehensible slur, Sam opened his eyes, "What?"

Dean swallowed and tried again. "Am I gettin' blood on 'er—my car?"

Sam couldn't hold back a quick laugh. "No, no. You're okay." He was lying, but Dean didn't need to know that. He'd have the mess cleaned up before his brother even noticed.

The trip back to the motel was quiet.

Once there, Sam heaved himself out of the vehicle and hurried to the passenger side. Opening the door, he nudged Dean. "Dean, c'mon, we're at the motel."

His brother's answer was nothing more than a groan.

Taking matters into his own hands, Sam hauled his brother from the car as carefully as he could. "Can you walk? It's not far." Supporting most of his brother's weight, Sam managed to get him into the motel room and lowered him onto the bed nearest the door before returning to the car to grab their first aid kit from the trunk.

Back in the room, Sam gathered the necessary supplies to treat his brother's sundry wounds, some of which were going to need stitches.

"Dean, just so you know—I'm gonna have to put in some stitches."

"Guess you better get started then," Dean replied without opening his eyes.

"The . . . uh . . . jeans need to come off." Sam tossed a pair of boxers on the bed next to his brother.

Without a word, Dean slowly stood and eased out of the jeans and Sam's socks while he was at it, wincing as the material stuck to some of the wounds. He kicked the pants and socks away, pulled on his boxers, and dropped unceremoniously back down on the bed flinging an arm over his eyes.

"You okay?"

His brother remained silent.

"Dean?"

"I'm fine."

Accepting that for the lie it was, Sam got to work cleaning all the cuts, scratches, scrapes, and even a couple of bites marring his brother's body. He stitched up the deeper wounds.

Sam was applying the last of the antibiotic cream to the shallow cuts on Dean's stomach when he suddenly stopped. "What the hell? Dean, did you know the word 'mine' is carved on your stomach?" He was surprised to hear Dean snicker.

"So that's what they were arguing about."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. You done?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good. I'm goin' to sleep."

"You wanna eat first?"

Dean grimaced at the thought of food. "Later."

"At least take these and drink some water. You need it." Sam handed Dean three Tylenol and a full glass.

Now that everything was over, hunger was quickly trumping Sam's exhaustion, his stomach's guttural growls growing louder by the second. "If you're okay for a few minutes, I'm gonna go get some food."

Taking his brother's deep sigh as acquiescence, he snagged the keys to the Impala and headed for the door. He paused when he heard his brother mumble, "Lemonade Muffins."

"What?"

"Bring me some Lemonade Muffins."

Fini

A/N: So that's it for my first multi-chapter Supernatural drama. I would LOVE to know what you thought. How was the ending?

Thanks to all for reading. And another big thanks to those who reviewed!

Vanessa