Dean ran into the Maverick as soon as he'd put the car in park, leaving it running and Cas sitting in the front seat. He called Sam as he burst through the front doors, but he'd made his way to the bathroom and pushed in before the phone had even rang twice.

"Sammy?"

"Dean?" Sam pushed open a stall door and threw himself into his brother's arms. "Dean."

Dean immediately grabbed his brother back and held him close, kissing his head and smoothing his hair. "Shhhh, it's ok Sammy. I've got you, I've got you."

Sam sobbed into Dean's shoulder; he was almost taller than Dean now, but he seemed a lot smaller like this, and Dean practically had to hold up the kid as he cried. It was fucking hard seeing his eighteen year old brother broken down and sobbing just like he was five years old and scared again, and Dean swallowed the urge to cry himself. After a few minutes, Sam pulled back.

"Baby boy, shit, you're all beat up." 'Beat up' was an understatement. Dean grimaced as he surveyed his younger brother. There was a gash on his forehead that looked like it had been gushing blood at one point, one eye was almost swollen shut, and other cuts littered Sam's face. And that was just what Dean could see. "Can I take you out to the car? Cas is here and he can drive while you sit with me in the backseat, ok? And I can doctor you up at my place, ok, just like I used to."

Sam sniffled and nodded. "Thank you."

"Course, Sammy. Come on." Dean put his arm protectively around his brother and led him out to the car.

"Just a second, Sammy." Dean opened the trunk to retrieve the blanket he and Cas kept on hand there and laid it across the backseat; he didn't particularly want to be scrubbing Sam's blood off the backseat of Cas' luxury car. "Here you go, can you get in alright?"

Sam nodded again and slowly clambered into the back of the car, and Dean followed suit.

"Cas, is it ok if you drive?" Dean put a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder.

"Yeah, babe, of course." As Cas walked around to the driver's seat and started the car, Dean turned to Sam, who was shivering next to him.

"Hey, little brother, you wanna lay down? You can put your head on my lap."

"Yeah, Dee. Thank you."

Dean blushed at the nickname, grateful it was dark. He'd never admit it, but he loved when his Sammy called him that, made him feel loved and like they were kids again. Sam settled in his lap, Dean stroking his hair and cooing at him while they drove back to his place. He knew he was treating his younger brother like a kid—for fuck's sake, the boy was legal now—but Sam had always gotten like this when he got hurt, and Dean was more than willing to indulge him.

When they got back to Dean and Cas' apartment, Dean helped Sam up the stairs and then laid him on the couch as soon as they were inside, Cas off searching for their scattered first-aid supplies.

"Ok, Sammy, tell me where it all hurts."

"Everywhere, Dean, shit." Sam tried to smile but cringed as it stretched the cuts on his face. Dean smiled kindly back and patted the boy's hand.

"I know, baby boy, but you've gotta tell me where it's bad so we can get you all fixed up."

"I know, Dean." Sam wiped a few more tears from his eyes before pointing to his temple. "Here."

"I can see that."

"And my arm. It's not broken, but it's twisted Dean, it's really sore."

"Anything else?"

"My stomach, but that's just cause it got hit. And my ribs, Dee, they hurt like hell."

Dean's eyes widened. "Are you having trouble breathing? Sammy, does it hurt to breathe?"

Sam shook his head. "No, not really, they're just really, really sore. But not as bad as when he cracked one that one time. 'S just bruised, I think."

Dean sighed and ran his fingers through his brother's hair. "Shit, Sammy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

Sam's eyes grew and he shook his head. "No, Dean, please, don't apologize. You didn't need to be there. 'S not your fault, I promise."

"Mmmkay, Sammy." Dean leaned over to kiss his brother's head as Cas returned with supplies.

"How can I help, Dean?"

"Shit, Cas, you're amazing, you've already done so much-."

"Dean." Cas gave Dean a pointed but soft look. "Tell me what to do."

"Maybe just some ice for Sam—that ok, Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dean. Thank you, Cas."

"Of course." Cas and Sam had never really had the opportunity to get to know one another; Dean couldn't exactly take Cas home to meet his father, and even though Sam never objected in the slightest to the time Dean spent with his boyfriend, for some reason he usually declined when Dean offered to take Sam out with him and Cas.

Dean started on Sam's face, cleaning the cut on Sam's temple first, gently wiping away the dried blood and dabbing antiseptic on it before using a couple butterfly bandages to close it up. He cleaned the rest of Sam's face next, taking his time, carefully dabbing at the blood and cuts. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"No, not right now. Sorry, Dean."

"Hey, hey, don't apologize. I understand. You just get better."

He had Sam lift up his shirt next, wrapping the bag of ice Cas had brought him in a dishtowel and making Sam keep it where it was swelling slightly. "What else do you need, Sammy?"

"I think…just a fuck-ton of Advil, and sleep. And maybe a bottle of whiskey." He grinned wearily up at Dean with his last request.

"Hilarious, Sammy." Dean rolled his eyes affectionately as he went to retrieve a glass of water and Advil from the kitchen. Cas met him worriedly at the counter.

"How is he?"

"He'll be alright. Pretty sure we've seen worse." Dean leaned into Cas' arms, allowing the older man to gently stroke his hair and back for a few moments. "Thank you so much, Cas, really. I know this must suck for you, but…shit, you're amazing." He pulled back and looked gratefully into Cas' eyes. "I love you."

Cas kissed Dean tenderly on the forehead. "It's no bother at all, love. And I love you too."

Dean walked back into the living room to see Sam staring at him with raised eyebrows.

"What?" He opened the bottle and tossed a few pills into his hand.

"You know, Dean, homosexual activity is a serious sin."

Dean turned sharply to his brother, who winked and then burst out laughing, then wincing.

"Sorry, Dee, I just had to."

"You're a dick, baby brother, you know that, right?"

"I know, Dean." Before swallowing the pills Dean handed him, Sam looked up at Dean and gave him the sweetest smile Dean had seen in a long time, and Dean damn near lost it. He loved his little brother to death, but shit if having him here living with him wasn't gonna be fucking hard.