Dean's fierce glare directed at his brother only made the younger man laugh outright. "Dude, that would be more effective if you didn't have to have me hold the cup so you can drink from it."

"Fuck you." he threw his head back against the pillow in frustration. Much as he wanted to flip his brother off and refuse his help, he didn't need Sam to tell him what he had to do to aid his own recovery. A second later, he went white, sweat beading on his forehead as his head took delight in telling him what it thought of him tossing it about.

"Dean?" Sam's laughter abruptly turned to concern. "Gonna be sick? I'd rather you not…" he grabbed the small plastic pail Suzie had provided him with for just this purpose, as Dean rolled on to his side, head hanging off the mattress. He hadn't had anything to eat in the last twenty-four hours, little to drink, and Sam winced in sympathy as Dean choked on dry heaving, struggling to get on top of the dizziness that had caused him to lose the battle with the nausea.

"See what you get?" Sam sat back down in the chair, having gone to the bathroom for a cloth wet with cold water. "In case you don't remember, let me tell you…again….for the third time…you lost a lot of blood. I sedated you, twice. You haven't eaten properly in a week, you're probably dehydrated and oh yeah, I sewed your wrists up from the inside out." he held the cloth to the back of Dean's neck, squeezing gently when Dean allowed the touch. "But, yeah, you go ahead and give me lip."

"Sammy…gawd….I feel….awful…." he groaned, head lying flat on the mattress, eyes closed. "Shshhhshiiittt."

"Dunno why." Sam commented dryly. "Trauma, pain, infection, sedation, loss of blood….."

"You-freaking-say-that-one more...uggh-time, and I'm gonna, Christ,-knock-mmmm-you the hell out." Dean started to raise a hand then stopped and shrugged a shoulder up so he could wipe the sweat from his face. "Nag, nag, nag." he grumbled.

"Since you're feeling well enough to threaten me, you must feel up to telling me what happened."

"Huh? Can't…hear you Sammy, ears are ringing."

"I bet." Sam muttered but was content to let the subject drop. Dean would be in a better condition to talk after he'd had a day or so of sleep, plenty of liquids and maybe something to eat. Sam would try forcing some soup on him around suppertime. He'd wait for Suzie to return with the groceries he'd asked her to pick up. If he had any hope of enticing his brother to eat, it would need to be food he liked. "K, come on, gotta drink and stop bitching that it's grape…you can have orange later."

"What's wrong with…..?" he sighed. "Can't I just have water?" he caught sight of his sleeve, frowning as he patted his chest with his fingers. "What the…..?" the look he shot at his brother was both questioning and accusatory.

"Yeah, well, deal with it." Sam wasn't about to put up with Dean sulking over what he was wearing. "Your clothes were in the car, the shirt you had on when Suzie found you was washed but the sleeves wouldn't fit over the bandages."

"I had a t-shirt….." he stopped, oh yeah, that had been Sam's as well. "Oh….can I have water?"

"You can, if fact, you will, but after you drink this." Sam helped him sit up enough he could drink from the cup and waited while Dean tried again to figure out how to hold the cup and drink from it.

"I need a straw." he gave up in disgust and let Sam hold the cup for him. "You shudda brought a straw." he glared at the grin that tugged at Sam's mouth. "Iffin I had a straw, I wouldn't need you." he muttered. "Prick, you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I'll find one." Sam promised. "Come on, all of it, then some water. I don't think it's a good idea to knock you out again, but I'll give you some pain meds, they'll probably pull you under for most of the day….okay?"

"Dude, don't go getting used to this." Dean huffed indignantly. "I'll use my teeth if I hafta, but I'll be getting out of these stupid splints." he waggled his fingers. "You can't watch me all the time."

"Sure Dean." Sam rolled his eyes. "Go to sleep."

"How bad?" Dean asked quietly. He remembered pretty much everything that had happened since being taken from the Sheriff's car but no need to let Sam know that just yet.

"Cudda been a lot worse." Sam admitted. "Yeah, you shredded skin all to hell, but no bleeders. Fuck, if you'd torn anything or cut into veins, I wudda had to take you to the ER. I can stitch, I can't repair."

"You...doin, okay?" he eyed him warily. "You holding up?" Sam was pale, had dark circles under his eyes, but appeared to be holding it together.

"Dean, relax, I'm fine." he held up a bottle and gave it a shake. "Pain meds. You want?"

Dean slept all day. Sam was right; pain meds knocked him out as easily as sedatives did. Sam roused him every hour and a half to verbally batter him into drinking more than he wanted. By late afternoon, Dean was cross and cranky and not just because Sam kept waking him up.

"What the hell are you? Freaking nurse?" Dean snapped crossly as his head was lifted and a straw poked against his lips.

"Shit Sammy, I don't get woken up this much in the hospital, lemme alone!"

"I warned you." Sam ignored him, tightening his grip when Dean attempted to jerk his head away. "Keep doing that and you'll be hanging off the bed again." he shifted the weight of Dean's head and reached for his jaw with a thumb. "Dean?" he frowned, feeling the warmth coming from his cheek. "Okay, man, you gotta eat something, 'k?"

"What? NO! Not ok!" he growled. "Get away from me…..you pansy….geesch!"

"Some crackers maybe? Suzie's not home yet, how about toast?" wow, Dean must really be feeling like crap if pansy was the best he could come up with. "Gimme your hand, hey...Dean, knock it off!" he finally wrestled Dean's arm to the mattress. "Hold still, just gonna unwrap it."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Dean moaned in misery. "I don't want anything to eat Sam! Go-A-Way."

"Your hand is infected. I thought maybe it would be ok, you know? Not get any worse, but you're running a fever and the stitches are inflamed and oozing...that means I gotta start you on antibiotics and you know how you react to…Cipro…"

"Blah, blah, blah….you're babbling." he paused. "Wait, what? Cee-pro? No, no, no, no, nuh-huh Sam…..none of that crap, I threw it out. Gimme….the Valtrex."

"You thought you did." Sam corrected. "And you don't have shingles or herpes. You're going to take either Cipro or Cepha, your choices are limited….would be better if you had something in your belly, but if you insist…."

"What about Avelox…..?"

"You have an infected wound, not pneumonia."

"Caused by bacteria, come on Sammy…please? I hate Cipro, or rather, it hates me….."

"It's what we have the most of, so…toast or crackers?"

"Toast." he muttered dejectedly, seeing no way to win the argument. It didn't matter if Sam was right, had Dean been strong enough to fight, he would have resisted his brother's attempts to make him eat and take the antibiotics. "What now?" he didn't need to open his eyes to see his brothers face to know he was chewing on his lip, mentally weighing a decision. "Sam...you said toast…"

"Yeah, no, no, I mean, yeah I'll go make it…..but….um…how's the…..you know, pain?" Sam didn't want him mixing pain meds with antibiotics and felt the infection was more important to treat and wondered if Dean could get by on Tylenol.

"How's the…?" he stuttered. "Are you freaking kidding me?" his voice was shrill but he didn't care.

"It's just…I don't…dammit Dean, I don't think you should mix pain meds with antibiotics. Do you think maybe you could, you know, get by on Tylenol?"

"Tylenol? Tylenol? Are you….? Jesus Christ! You really do hate me, don't you?"

"It's extra strength." Sam offered eagerly, wanting to offer comfort. "I'd say ibuprofen, but when I looked at your wrists earlier, the stitches were oozing blood, not a lot, the bleeding was minimal and you haven't complained of any itching yet and there's no severe swelling, but…."

"Whatever Sam." he'd had enough. He wasn't up to arguing and it was just easier to give in and let the kid have his way. "But you wake me up again and I will knock you the fuck out." he obediently opened his mouth and swallowed all four pills with some water. "See how good your sewing skills hold up then."

"I'll get the toast."

The next time Sam woke him up, Suzie was with him. He was groggy and Sam had to beg to get his attention focused on him.

"He still warm?" Suzie asked. "I can see he's flushed from over here."

"Yeah, he's ok though." Sam coaxed him into drinking some Gatorade. It was orange, a flavor Dean preferred and he even drank a second glass. Sam frowned, happy that Dean was willing to drink, but concerned because he was thirsty. "See what kind of night he has. If his fever goes up or those stitches ooze puss or develop redness or itching, I'll head out with him, find an ER on our way."

Dean's eyes were glassy and slightly unfocused as he watched Sam, but he didn't speak and once he slept, Sam followed Suzie out to the kitchen.

"You sure you want to wait until morning?"

"Been through this before." Sam bit into an apple. "He's rarely hung over but experience the morning after has taught me to flood him with water and get him to drink Gatorade...it works the best, well, for him anyway."

"But Sam, he's not coming off a drinking binge."

"Not this time." Sam agreed, running a hand through his hair. "I've been with him nearly my whole life Sue. I've dealt with blood loss, serious injury, illness...I know how to take care of him, what he needs, what's best for him. I know what medications to give him and how they affect him. I know it's not a good idea to have him on both pain meds and antibiotics. He can suck it up and fight through pain, an infection will take him down. If I have to give him both, I will. He'll be in misery for a couple days...probably will be anyway; he has an adverse reaction to antibiotics."

"Ok, yeah, loss of blood is a reason for dehydration, but there are other concerns as well Sam."

"I know." Sam tossed the apple core. "I don't want to make him ride in the car until he can sit up without getting dizzy. I want him strong enough to walk to the bathroom on his own without weakness forcing him to rest half way there. I want the infection either gone or under control enough he can come off the antibiotics. And I don't want him running a fever at all."

"Okay." she agreed. "But if either hand oozes brown blood or green puss or if the stitches are warm to touch or he runs a fever over a 102, you take him in."

"Agreed." he nodded, relieved that's all she insisted on, once she found out how well Dean responded to Cipro, she'd be railing at Sam for being insensitive and uncaring. If he had to allow Dean the pain meds as well, she'd likely tear Sam a new asshole.

***000***

When he finally was strong enough to get up on his own and hold a conversation, his first words sent Sam into a fit.

"I'm sorry." Sam stumbled against the counter, milk sloshing out of the cup, sure he hadn't heard right. Leave it to Dean to wait until he was distracted to blind side him with his stupid announcement. "You want to what? ARE you COMPLETELY out of your MIND or are you just temporarily fucked up?"

"Oh and what? Your plan is better?" Dean scoffed. "Leave me with Bobby while you come back here on your own? Yeah, awesome plan there Sammy."

"Jesus Dean, you can't…" first time out of bed in four days and already tearing down Sam's coping defenses.

"You're not going after them on your own. There's no reason good enough for you to do that."

"How about, you're still weak and dizzy from loss of blood. How about the skin on your wrists has been stripped raw and wiping your ass makes them bleed. How about there is an unlimited amount of bacteria and fungus that breeds on open wounds to feed the infection you already have in your wrists that, OH YEAH, have been filleted!"

"I'm fine Sam! No open wounds! Took you all day to stitch me up! Remember?" he flapped his hands in Sam's face. "And it's your fault I made them bleed, I told you I didn't want the damn Cipro, but oh no! Sir Sammy has to have his way."

"Seriously? You want to go there?" he began to wipe the spilt milk up with paper towels. "We are not having this fight now."

"Ain't looking for a fight and neither wrist has popped a stitch or bled through the bandages."

"You still can't bend them." Sam pointed out.

"You won't let me!"

"Two weeks Dean, two weeks before the internal stitches dissolve. You're not doing anything until then."

"Says you."

"That's right."

"You don't even know who you're after."

"You seriously think that will stop me?" Sam snorted. "How little you know me."

"Oh, I know you all right." Dean countered with a sneer. "You didn't handle any of this, did you? You freaked out."

"You're hale and hearty, aren't you?"

"WHAT?" he exclaimed, eyes bugging out. "Jesus Sam, you nearly choked Suzie unconscious. I seem to remember being dragged all over the god damn place! Out of bed, down the hall, off the floor! And HELLO, you yelled at me, you shook me, you dumped me….."

"Dumped you? Dumped you! When? When was that Dean?"

"In the SHOWER!" Dean yelled. "Where I never should have been left alone!"

"That you remember." his tone was derisive.

"I ain't obediently following you to wherever you see fit to leave me."

"I'm not abandoning you."

"Damn right you're not."

Sam faced his obstinate brother, hands fisted at his sides. "Not drooling here Dean." he threw his arms wide. "I'm gonna lose it. You don't want to tell me what happened, fine, don't." he eyed Dean's wrists; they were both still splinted, much to Dean's displeasure. "You can't hold a gun, you're still in pain, you're still fighting that infection, kicking a fever around, you won't do me much good in a fight."

"Let this go Sam." Dean warned. "You're not going after anyone."

"Someone drove the Sheriff off the road and took you…they took you Dean, from his car. They had you for three hours, you don't need to tell me what they did, I know. They dragged you on your back, by the chain attached to the cuffs. You were gone, you left me without a word.….DON'T." he pointed a finger at Dean's nose when his mouth flapped opened and closed. "Don't you dare throw in my face that I've done it to you." he swallowed back his rising outrage. God, he needed to get a grip and calm down. Keep talking, just keep talking, don't pen it up….let it out….keep talking, no need to panic.

"Sam…" Dean began.

"And I couldn't find you. I chased you all over this fucked-up town, dudes with pierced knuckles and babes in pink boots and the giant with no neck and Cookie the cuckoo with the battle axe at the hospital and let's not forget Weeble the Wobbler who freaking sang to me. He sang to me! You didn't even meet the four foot troll who stood on a chair to get in my face. I went through all that Dean, looking for you, not knowing what happened, not knowing what to think, only to find out someone took you….god…..took you…and hurt you…..and some girl from your past leaves me a voicemail from your phone and I go against every fiber of my being and meet her only to come here and find you missing!"

"And that right there is why you aren't going after anyone." Dean pointed out. Sam was on verge of yet another meltdown. "Take a breath man, calm down!"

"Yeah, Dean, I freaked out! Who would blame me? I didn't know how bad you were hurt, I didn't know if you had a head injury, or how bad it was if you did. I had to decide whether or not to take to you to the ER or treat you myself. God, you had me so fucked up, you were bleeding and not with it and you kept passing out and it was easier to ignore you..." he took a deep breath. "I can't go through that again Dean, I can't and you can't ask me to! Letting you bleed, hurting you….losing my temper...you have no right to put me in that situation again!"

"Sam, you would never hurt me." how Sam ever believed he could was lost on Dean. It made him sick to think Sam lived with that fear. "You can't believe that."

"Right." he cleared his throat but the lump remained. He blinked, remembering how Dean had come out of the woods when he'd heard Sam calling his name, how he'd collapsed in Sam's arms, taking them both to the ground. That right there was proof of Dean's trust in him. It should be enough.

"Okay, not under your own will, then, how's that? That better?"

"No, dumb ass, it's not." he wiped at his eyes, taking a shaky breath.

"I called him." Suzie spoke up. "Three men were in town, asking a lot of questions about him. They knew who he was and what he did. They also knew he'd done a job here...…"

"A job?" Sam missed the look exchanged between Dean and Suzie, Dean nodding his thanks for Suzie's successful attempt in diverting Sam's attention. "When? We were together...have been since...well...since, you know...then."

"Yes." Suzie went on. "I called to warn him, not ask him to come here….they were asking everyone, said they were old friends, were looking him up, hadn't been able to find him, knew that he'd spent a couple of days in town with a girl…"

"You?"

Suzie nodded. "Yes."

"What did they want?"

"To know how to find him."

"And you come straight here to them?" Sam asked incredulously. "You couldn't call me first? Are you trying to drive me insane?"

"Pfftt." Dean blew him off with a wave. "There were only three of 'em Sam."

"Three what? Men? Demons? Ghouls?" he tugged at his hair. "God, you're going to turn every hair on my head grey before I'm thirty!" he moaned. "How did they find you? How did Suzie know to go after you?"

"I heard Weeble on the phone while they were in the ER." Suzie explained. "He was saying no one had come to the station looking for Dean nor had anyone approached him at the hospital. I knew then that they were still looking for him. When he hung up, I asked him how the Sheriff was doing, he said he didn't know, that he hadn't been talking to him."

"Who…." Sam began but Suzie held a hand up.

"Mrs. Simpkins."

"Who the hell is Mrs. Simpkins?"

"She works the desk over at county lock-up."

"County….? wait….Grama-with-an-attitude?"

"You didn't go to the court-house first to post bail. You went directly to lock up because you wanted to see him. I know because I went to the court-house looking for you. I didn't dare go into lock up because I didn't want anyone to know who I was or that I was the girl Dean had spent the weekend with."

Sam shook his head. "So what? You were just going to ask the Sheriff oh-so-nicely to let him go?"

"Dobbin has been the Sheriff for fifteen years. He knows what happened that weekend, he just doesn't know Dean was responsible for getting rid of the problem. All I would have had to do was explain it to him and he would have let Dean go."

"So, you came here on your own to do a job, without even bothering to tell me about it and left unfinished business. Oh and spend the weekend with a girl you'd just met?" yup, that sounded like Dean. "Eight months later three men come to town looking for you, this girl calls to warn you and you just ride in to save the day?"

"What? No!" Dean protested. "Wasn't like that at all Sam."

"So tell me what part I got wrong!" Sam was seething and Dean put the table between them. "What did they want, Dean? Why did you come here alone? I mean, the danger you willingly put yourself in scares the hell outta me. You're not stupid, so why? Make me understand."

"Feeling…..look, she was…I dunno, she called, and that weekend was…kinda felt right to be with someone, you know?"

"Are you saying this is my fault?" he wanted to throw something, not a punch but man, he was ready to blow. "You….."

"No, I'm not saying it's your fault. I'm saying, there was a job here and I came here to do it. It was a simple salt and burn."

"And now? Did you come merely to satisfy an itch?"

"Yeah, partly, what of it?" his own anger was beginning to spike. "And to find out who these guys were and what they wanted."

"And you couldn't call me to come back you up?" that was the base of Sam's anger. It hurt, made his gut burn, that his brother would just leave him, because if he could do it once, he could do it again. "So, did you?"

"No." Dean said steadily. "This is why you aren't going after them alone, you're ready to go ballistic Sam." he moved in front of Suzie when he realized Sam fixated on her. "You need to calm the fuck down."

"Girl, start talking, I want to know who Mrs. Simpkins is, why you're scared of her and then Dean, you're going to tell me everything that happened once they took you from the Sheriff's car." he pulled out a chair and sat down. "I'm listening and don't go whining about feeling sick or being too dizzy to talk because I'm not buying it."