"Sam?" his voiced quivered, a hand against the wall to give him support. "I don't…want a shower." he'd refused Sam's request to get up, had ignored the order that had followed the pleas, had dragged his feet down the hallway. Dean was one person who could resist his brother, not that it had made any difference, he was still where he didn't want to be. Weak as he was, he hadn't been able to stop Sam from dragging him out of bed, across the room and down the hallway to the bathroom.

"You need one." tampering his anger down to simmer, he turned his back on his brother before he caved in and allowed Dean to have his own way. Dean had woken up lucid enough to know Sam was about to force him into a shower he didn't want, but he was in no condition to give Sam any of the answers he wanted and that made Sam angry.

"But…now? Please? Can't you….just let me lay down?" he begged. He sure wished he knew what he had done to piss his brother off. No doubt about it, Sam was pissed. Otherwise he'd be where he hadn't wanted to leave in the first place, in bed. He didn't remember waking up and having a conversation with Suzie, couldn't remember where he was or why he felt like he did. All he could comprehend was, Sam was pissed and it was at him.

Sam adjusted the water temperature and turned to face his brother who was now leaning with his shoulder against the wall, shaking so badly the knick-knacks on the shelf rattled.

"Either get in on your own or I will throw you in."

Dean let his head rest against the wall but Sam wasn't swayed, this had to be done and he couldn't back down now, not even with Dean biting on his lower lip. A sure sign he was close to breaking. Dean had his eyes closed but he knew when Sam reached for him and slapped the outstretched hand away.

"I've got it." he mumbled, not moving. "Gimme a minute."

The shower wasn't pleasant; he wasn't prepared for how badly the water stung and burned. Not only that, he was so dizzy and light-headed he couldn't remain on his feet. His head flooded and when Sam left him alone in the shower, he sank to his knees, facing the water and despite the cramping in his thighs, sat there until Sam ordered him to get out.

He hadn't touched shampoo or soap and it wasn't because he wanted to give Sam a hard time, it was because he simply didn't have the strength to wrap his mind around what he was supposed to do with the ball of mesh-netting he held in his hand. He went through the motion of drying off, dressed in the pants Sam had left for him and was looking for a shirt when Sam barged in and forced him down on to the tub side to remove the bandage from his left wrist that had been left on while he showered.

It didn't go any better than the shower had. Sam was snapping at him to sit still and stop jerking away and to shut up about wanting a shirt and could he please, just cease doing shit to give Sam a hard time? Dean was fighting back the overwhelming urge to faint when Sam discovered he hadn't used any soap.

"Seriously Dean?" Sam yelled, frustrated. "Twenty fucking minutes and you couldn't even pick up the bar of soap? What the hell did you think I put you in the shower for?"

"Sorry." his eyes were closed but he heard the thump of the peroxide bottle hitting the wall from being thrown. He waited for Sam to continue and it took a good five minutes for him to realize Sam had left him alone in the bathroom and he was somehow sitting on the floor, slumped against the tub.

"Dean? Get out here!" Sam yelled. "Don't make me come in there!" pause, a curse, then. "You won't like it if I have to come after you!"

"Fuck." he eased onto his hip, then his hands and knees and by using one bathroom fixture after another, managed to crawl his way up to his feet and over to the door. A grab gone wrong with his hand put pressure against the stitches and he was back on his knees, wrists too weak to support his weight by hanging onto the door frame and keep him upright.

He teetered on wobbly knees, fighting tears of frustration and exhaustion and pain, wanting to let go, to do what he wanted, to say to hell with it all. It'd be so easy to just close his eyes and allow his body to go limp. To pass out on the cold, hard bathroom floor and be done with all the turmoil and confusion that had him fighting to make sense of a situation he didn't understand. Who would care? Who would it hurt?

"DEAN!"

Oh right, Sammy..

He had to show Sam that nothing was wrong; that all he had suffered was a scratch cause much as he wanted to believe Sam was alright and Suzie was in no danger from him, he knew better. He staggered to his feet without the aid of his hands, hadn't thought it would be so hard to do so. Once standing, he couldn't remain upright and he doubled over, panting through his attempt to stave off the blackness that was seconds away from claiming him. And it would claim him, of that there was no doubt; there wasn't anything he could do to stop it.

"Sam…..I…..don't….."

"You don't what Dean?" Sam snapped back. "Don't want to be here, don't want me around, don't want to do this? What the hell is it you don't want this time?" he glared daggers at the man who was swaying like a flag flapping in the wind in the bathroom doorway.

"I don't….." his already pale face turned a shade of green then went ashen. "Feel…..so…..good." thump.

Sam stared at the crumpled heap on the floor at his feet. Great, just great, just what he didn't need now. This was what, the third, fourth or fifth time Dean had passed out on him? He clenched his fists, took a moment then knelt beside the heap on the floor.

"Dean? DEAN! HEY, Can you HEAR me?" Sam gave his brother a gentle shake, hands holding Dean's head in a secure grip. "DEAN!"

Dean winced. "They can hear you in China." he muttered, raising his fingertips to brush his forehead. "Ow!" he squirmed into a position where he was mostly on his side, his back not caring for the burden of his weight against the hard floor. He moved to pull his knees up but he was hauled to his feet by a hand grasping his elbow. Huh, when the hell had Sammy gotten strong enough to do that? He didn't remain limp on purpose but he just couldn't coordinate his muscles to tighten so he could aid his transport back to bed.

"Sam?" Suzie was in the door. "Everything ok?"

"No." he was mad at himself, not Dean yet his brother was bearing the brunt of his anger. He hadn't realized Dean was so weak; had failed to notice he was disoriented and groggy and unable to follow even the simplest of instructions, such as what he was supposed to do in the shower. "I'm beginning to think he smacked his head harder than I thought."

"What makes you think that? Both you and I checked him over for injury Sam, no bump or lump, not even a tender spot."

"He doesn't remember anything and he's passed out, what five or six times?"

"Uh, maybe twice?" she guessed and frowned as she stopped to think back. "Huh."

"When you took the cuffs off, when he came to me out in the yard, when he threw up the PowerAde, when he woke up lucid enough to yell at me about leaving me, when he stopped me from trying to choke you….."

"Trying?" she grinned wryly.

"When he fell on his hands….." Sam continued, giving her an annoyed look.

"He didn't pass out then." she pointed out. "And it could have been from pain from the cuffs being removed and the exertion of running from the house and dizziness from throwing up and you yelled right back at him, you in a rage would scare anyone. I don't blame him for passing out to avoid that scene."

"He would have if he hadn't made me so mad I shook him." Sam went on. "Just now, after his shower and god knows what happened while he was in the shower or when I left him sitting on the tub….."

"What do you need?" Suzie offered. "What can we do? He doesn't show any immediate signs of a concussion."

"He's dizzy and disoriented and confused and…"

"He's lost a lot of blood Sam. His hand, both wrists, his back…we still don't know what, if anything was done to him while he was with whoever took him from the Sheriff's car."

"We're about to." Sam muttered. "How good a first aid kit do you have?"

"Usual household one. Why?"

"Don't suppose you have any idea where our car is?" obsessing about its whereabouts was going to give high blood pressure before he turned thirty but doing so took his mind of what he was about to put his brother through.

"Sorry, no clue. Do you need it? You have a car."

"It's stolen." Sam admitted. "The Impala has everything I need. We've met and helped a doctor or two over the years, we've, uh, yeah, so…" he stuttered into silence. "Shit."

"She's at the bar." Dean squirmed about the bed until he was on his left side. A position Sam had come to realize he favored.

"Who is?" Suzie asked Sam. "What bar?"

"The car." he grinned, running a hand through his hair. The grin faded as he was faced with a dilemma. He not only needed what was in the car to help Dean, he wanted the car back. Hell must now be on earth because he was seriously thinking about leaving his brother to go get the car. "And I'm assuming he means Harkens. I looked in the lot though and didn't see her….it" he amended hastily with a wince, hoping Dean hadn't caught his slip of the tongue.

"You called her, her." Dean's smirk ended on a groan as he buried his face in the pillow. "She's there, look out back."

"You do what you're trained to do." he pointed at Suzie. "Do what he will let you to keep him comfortable. I should be back in an hour."

"Where are you going?" she asked alarmed. "Sam, he doesn't have an hour! We need to…"

"To get our car. Do you have antibiotics and a suture kit or surgical scissors here?"

"Surgical scis….." she echoed, stunned. "Sam…."

"Take a good look at those wrists Suzie, you're an ER nurse, right? He's going to need internal stitches and I have to find skin somewhere to sew back together. Means if I have to cut away any lose, torn skin, I'm not going to use the scissors from your kitchen drawer."

"Then screw all this and let's just go to the ER."

"Where the Sheriff or Weeble or whoever you don't trust at county or whoever did this to him can get to him? No." Sam hesitated; leaving Dean was harder than he'd thought. "He can move his hands, if he couldn't I'd already be at a hospital."

"What about a tetanus shot? You don't know what….."

"He's had one within the last year." stay with Dean and send Suzie after the car or go after the car and leave Dean in Suzie's care? "Can you properly apply a tourniquet?"

"A what?" she asked startled. "Why? No!"

What the fuck was wrong with him? What the hell was he thinking? He tossed Suzie the Impala's keys. Since when was seeing the Impala with his own eyes and being able to lay his hands on her - it - more important than his brother?

"Stolen car has keys….." he grinned at her astonished look. "Yeah, I know. Leave it somewhere near town and walk to the bar to get the Impala. Try not to talk to anyone and come straight back here."

"Sam, what are you going to do?"

"Try and stop the bleeding while you're gone, do what I can with the supplies I have until you get back." doubt over trusting her had crept into his voice and Dean stirred at his hesitation.

"S'ok Sammy." he murmured. "She'll come back."