A/N- wow! I was really surprised at all the reviews I got for the first chapter. Thanks, you guys! Ok, so I just wanted to clear something up; this is set sometime in the 2nd season. I'm thinking after Folsom Prison Blues, but before What Is And What Should Never Be. And now, on to chapter 2! Sorry it's a bit short; I swear, I'll try to make my chapters longer.

Chapter 2

Sam snapped his phone shut when he realised that Dean wasn't going to answer him. Pressing his foot down, he increased the speed he was going at, not caring if he was over the speed limit. All he could think about was his brother, lying bleeding on some random street, possibly unconscious, with no one to help him. Sam's heart began to speed up at the thought.

He finally saw the sign labelled 'Pitts Street', and swerved into the street, eyes flicking from side to side in search of his brother. He had reached the other end of the street before he saw a figure sprawled on the sidewalk to his right, their arm stretched out beside them, holding a phone.

"Dean!"

Sam hurriedly stopped the car next to Dean's unmoving figure before leaping out. He ran to his brothers' side, falling to his knees.

"Dean? Dean, come on man, wake up. Dean." Sam had one hand resting on Dean's left shoulder, anxious to shake Dean or do something to make him move, but afraid of the consequences.

Dean's eyes were beginning to flicker under his eyelids.

"Yeah Dean, it's me. Come on, wake up. Please Dean."

Sam's plea did the trick; ever so slowly, Dean's eyelids finally opened, revealing a pair of bleary, pain filled green orbs.

"Hey," Sam said with a small grin, the relief plain on his face.

"S'mmy… what… I thought you said 15 minutes?"

"Well, maybe more like 7," Sam said wryly, thinking of the speed he had reached.

"It's been 7 minutes?" Sam looked worriedly at his older brother.

"Yeah Dean. I think you blacked out while talking to me."
"Ahh…"

Sam suddenly noticed the bloodstain on Dean's shirt, which was beneath his jacket.

"Holy crap Dean. That is a lot of blood."

Dean grinned woozily.

"Well, what can I say? I don't do things half way…." He started to sit up, but was stopped by a sickening dizziness coupled with intense pain.

"Wow…" he said dazedly, had clutching his forehead.

"I think it's the blood loss. Come on Dean, I need to get you back to the motel." Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders, hoisting him up gently, careful to avoid touching the area where Dean was obviously hurt. Once up on his feet, Dean began swaying precariously, and had to be supported by Sam.

"Sammy, I feel like crap."

Sam realised just how bad the situation was for Dean to truthfully say how he felt.

"I know Dean. We'll get you back to the motel, and patch you up, and then you'll feel better, okay?"

"Okay..." Dean murmured, half leaning on Sam. Sam slowly guided Dean towards the passenger side of the impala, one arm placed supportively around Dean's body, holding him close to stop him falling. Dean's head was tilted towards Sam, and Sam could see every wince Dean made, and felt horrible for making Dean walk, but he knew there was no other option. As long as Dean was awake, there was no chance of carrying him. Sam could knock him unconscious, but somehow, that didn't seem like the best alternative. When they reached the impala, Sam slowly opened the passenger door, still balancing Dean, before helping his brother inside. Dean slumped against the seat, hunched down, and looked so small and vulnerable that Sam felt his heart start to ache.

He quickly climbed into the drivers' side and sped off, intent on getting back to the motel. As he drove, he kept watching Dean, who was still in the same position.

"Dude, a picture is worth a thousand words," Dean finally mumbled, beginning to feel embarrassed by the amount of times Sam looked at him.

"Sorry Dean, just checking you're okay, you know?"

"Yeah. You could just ask me, you know."

"And what are the chances that you'll tell the truth?"

"I'm truthful!" Dean muttered weakly.

"Dean, lets save this argument for another day when you're better. You need as much help as you can get with that one, which means you have to be up to full strength."
"Hmph." Dean pouted slightly at Sam, who merely responded with a wide grin. A few minutes later:
"You feeling alright, Dean?"

"Umm… lemme get back to you on that." Sam quickly looked at Dean, who was quite pale. His right arm was pressed gently against his side, trying to slow down the bleeding without causing too much pain. His eyes were hazy, his freckles standing out against his pale skin, and his breathing was more of a struggle. Sam knew he needed to be attended to immediately.

"Hold on Dean. Just hold on."

The impala sped off into the night as Sam pressed his foot down on the accelerator. Dean wasn't going to last much longer in his current state, and there was no way Sam was going to let Dean die.

No way.