Sam snatched the brown bottle from the dresser, intent on hurling it against the wall and take pleasure seeing it smash to pieces but Dean stirred with a whimper laced with such pain that Sam returned the bottle to the dresser with a gentleness that defied his rage and moved over to the bed.

"Hey." he squatted down, chewing on his lip. "Still awake?"

"Cash?"

"He left." Sam started to reach out to lay a hand on Dean's shoulder but dropped his hand to adjust the blanket. "You with me?"

"Uhgghg."

"Dean? Hey, look at me...that's right...hi."

"Whadda want?"

"How you feeling?" Sam waited. "Dean? Can you tell me how you feel? Do you know?"

"H'ur'ts..." his tongue darted out to lick at dry lips, a tongue that was dry and thick with white film.

"I know." Sam sighed with a wince. What the hell was wrong with him? Here he sat, his brother dehydrated, feverish, in more pain than he'd thought – worse than he wanted to admit and he did….nothing. "Look, Cas said...well, Cas, you know he doesn't make sense half the time, right?" Sam guessed Dean wasn't capable of following a conversation but he felt better talking, so, he babbled. "He said he can't heal you...well, he healed your foot...the damage to it, I mean, least he said he did, but I dunno, something about not being able to make you all better because we did something wrong or some part of heaven or someone somewhere thinks we're careless and apparently stupid. I don't understand and Cas…...aww, hey…..it's ok….sorry, just stay still, ok?"

He laid a hand upon Dean's shoulder to still his attempt to…..well Sam guessed he was trying to sit up. He didn't apply force because Dean didn't resist the hold, just went limp under the familiar touch. Watery green eyes were wide and focused but Dean didn't' speak. Sam pushed the blanket off his foot to take a peek to see if he'd bled through the bandage.

He had.

"Dammit." Sam rubbed his eyes. "Dean, hey, I need you to buck up here and talk to me….I….." he rose to his feet and retrieved more bandages from the first aid kit before sitting on the mattress next to his brother who was fast becoming uneasy. Dean's foot was still grossly swollen; his toes still plump and purple and when Sam slid his palm under Dean's calf to lift his foot so he could rest it in on a pillow, Dean jerked away from his touch.

"Nooo…noon't."

"Sorry, sorry, guess that hurts huh?" he chewed on his lip. He had no idea if Cas would return with the meds he'd asked for. Didn't know how to give Dean the medicine Cas had brought or if it would do any good. For that matter, he didn't know whether Cas had truly healed his foot. It sure as hell didn't look like it.

Whatever the medicine Cas had given him, Sam simply didn't see how it was going to alleviate all his brothers symptoms. Dehydration and infection and blood loss, lack of nutrition, pain and…..Sam eyed the tell-tale flush on Dean's cheeks - fever. And oh yeah, they didn't possess a thermometer.

He only had Cas's word that a hospital wouldn't do his brother any good. If he took Dean to a doctor, they could tell him how bad the injury to his foot was. Give him an IV solution for hydration, treat him for infection, tell him whether Dean had lost more blood then he was guessing he had, and tell him if his brother would benefit from a transfusion.

Dean squirmed with a whimper, head rolling one way, then the other repeatedly until Sam placed a cool palm on his forehead, then he brought his head off the pillow to press against the coolness, turning his cheek to rest against Sam's wrist.

"Okay, ok…." he offered Dean some water from a plastic cup; he drank greedily until Sam took it away from him for fear of making him sick. "Sips Dean, just…sips." the routine went on for several minutes, Dean drinking when Sam let him. "Shit, this can't be good."

He didn't have any milk, didn't think to call Benny, so had no way to give Dean Cas's medicine. He wasn't even sure he wanted to. He trusted Cas, he did. He just didn't understand why the angel was being cryptic and evasive, maybe it was truly because the angel didn't know who he answered to anymore or maybe it was because Sam wasn't in his right mind. Not with Dean down and Benny here and otherwise alone…..he'd never missed Bobby so much as he did right then.

Dean finally refused the offer of water and Sam set the cup on the table between the beds. He didn't know what to do next. Well, no, he knew, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Dean was far from quiet and content but he wasn't screaming and thrashing and fighting and if Sam touched his foot, that's exactly what his brother would be doing. So he sat on the bed, face in his hands, fingers tangled in his hair because if he tried to move away, Dean protested his absence with a moan and a grab with his hand.

Sam swallowed hard, unnerved by his brother's show – display – of…..of what? Wasn't affection, wasn't vulnerability, was more of a desire to not be alone and what the hell was Sam supposed to make of that? If he took Dean to the hospital, it'd be hours until he'd be allowed to see him and how would Dean handle being confused and disoriented and alone? Sam nowhere around and not answering if, when, Dean called out for him?

"Okay, ok, I'm right here, not going anywhere." he shushed at Dean until he lay still and fell quiet. Sam felt sick to his stomach and he sipped at some water, wondering at the cause of the nausea. Might be his head, might be nerves, might be lack of decent meals and sleep, could be fear and anxiety and confusion….hell, he didn't know.

***000***

Benny hadn't been able to find a diner or restaurant that served soup, so he'd gone to a grocery store, bought canned soup, package of Styrofoam disposable bowls, box of crackers, package of plastic ware and returned to the motel room.

He wasn't sure if he should stick around and had yet to book himself a room. He didn't know how long Sam planned on staying, or really, what he planned at all. Sam didn't want him around, didn't want him near Dean, didn't want his help, yet hadn't asked Benny to get lost and Dean, well, Dean had yet to even acknowledge Benny was there. When he did, he could very well tell Benny to leave even if Sam didn't. And Benny would go.

"Sam?" he knocked on the motel room door. "Sam? It's Benny."

He waited, plastic bag of groceries swinging from two fingers. He knocked a third time then eased the door open. When he wasn't greeted with a harsh order to raise his hands or a blunt object swinging towards his head, he entered the room and set the bag on the dresser opposite the beds.

"Aaah. You…." his nose twitched. "Didn't shower." Benny said tentatively. "No hot water?"

"Cas came."

Benny chanced a look at Dean. "He….doesn't look any better." and neither do you, he added to himself. Sam looked wiped out. Mentally, physically, and emotionally devastated.

"Cas left medicine."

"Medicine? What kind of medicine? For what?"

"I dunno." Sam pushed his hands through his hair and cupped his chin in his hand, elbow supported on his knee. He wanted nothing more than to take a shower, scrub himself clean, dress in warm clothes, have something to eat and go to bed. He wondered if Dean would let him go if he promised to come back and lay down next to him. "He didn't make any sense, least none I could understand."

"What do you want to do?"

"What?"

"He's your brother Sam…..you…well, you can do whatever you want. It's your decision." yours and no one else's, Benny thought but knew it was wise to keep that thought to himself. "You can trust Cas, you can take him to the hospital, you can try to take care of him yourself, though….."

"Though, what?"

"I'm not…I mean, I don't know…."

"Say it."

"Why?" Benny shrugged. "Why would you want to?"

"Because…just 'cause." Sam shrugged. "Cause I can."

"Can you?" Benny countered. "He's….well, is he asleep? Go take a shower. I'll heat the soup and you can see if he'll eat something when you're dressed."

"I….." Sam frowned. "What do you mean, can I? Fuck you!" he sat up straight, stopped from rising to his feet by Dean's fisted grip on the pocket of his jeans. "I can and will and have done whatever it takes to see that he's…"

"You're exhausted. You're pushed to the point you're going to hurt yourself." Benny interrupted. "'Pipe down, all I meant was, I was gone for over an hour, Cas left you medicine and you haven't done anything. You haven't given him any, his foot is still bleeding, and you haven't stitched it or….."

"I don't have any milk." Sam said miserably.

Benny's curiosity was peaked but he said nothing. He didn't know why Sam would want or need milk but he would've brought it back had Sam simply called him. Dean's phone sat right there, all Sam had to do was pick it up and thumb a button.

"And he won't let he touch his foot." he added morosely.

"Ok." Benny said and stood awkwardly in silence. "You…aah, want me to go out and buy some milk?"

"I dunno."

"What do you want to do Sam?" Benny asked quietly. "Forget Cas, what is it you want?"

"I want….." he broke off, rubbing at his eyes. "I just…I wanna be with him. That's all. That can't be too much to ask."

"You….." Benny paused, it dawned on him slowly. "You want to take him to the hospital? You don't have to leave him there, you know?"

"Right, like they won't insist on keeping him." Sam snorted. "I don't like being told I can't see him. I don't like someone telling me what I can and can't do. I don't like him being taken away from me and being kept from him. I don't want to wait until I'm allowed to see him. I don't like being kicked out of his hospital room. I fucking hate that!"

"Then don't admit him. Once the doctors confirm what Cas told you, you can take him and go wherever you want."

"And if they don't?" Sam countered. Benny followed his gaze to the two bottles on the dresser.

"Okay then, I'll go out and buy you….some milk. Get yourself cleaned up 'cause no matter how much he carries on, you're gonna have to stitch that foot."

"It needs to be done." Sam agreed, decision made. "But a doctor can do it."

Benny didn't accompany them inside the hospital. Sam didn't invite him and Benny didn't offer. Sam didn't know where the hell he'd gone and he didn't care. They were met at the door and Dean was taken away and Sam sat, alone on an uncomfortable chair in the ER waiting room, clip board ignored in one hand.

He knew it'd be hours, knew he'd have to come up with a story of explanation, knew he'd have to hide the fact he'd been admitted to a hospital two towns over with an unexplained head injury. Dimly he recalled the 911 call, the chopper coming but they hadn't been there. He wondered if any of that mattered. Wondered if the police would come? He wondered if he cared.

He knew he should go to the cafeteria and get something to eat. Acknowledged he probably should have showered and changed before coming to the hospital. Oh right, like Dean's health and need for and right to medical care should wait until Sam was clean and comfortable. Mental slap to his forehead; what the hell was wrong with him?

So, he sat and waited. Wandered to the vending machine, got a cup of coffee flavored lukewarm water, package of stale donuts and waited. Used the men's room, washed up and waited. He thumbed through various magazines and waited. Watched TV and waited. Worked on a jigsaw puzzle and waited. He had no one to call, no one to sit with him while he….waited.

God, he hated waiting. A nurse came for the forms he was supposed to have filled out. Routine questions, questions whose answers he knew by heart; prior medical history, family traits, note of any allergies, list of medications….he guffawed, how did one list brown bottle of heavenly medicine acquired from an angel of God? On and on and on and…..he couldn't even remember his own brothers age. He mumbled an apology, and after a gentle scold, the nurse promised to return in half an hour for the completed forms and left him alone to wait.

A doctor, not Dean's, more likely a resident came to ask questions. Did Sam know what had gone through Dean's foot? Did he know how Dean had been impaled with a length of rebar? Did Sam remove it? Who had? Why? When? Where? How long ago? How much time had passed until he'd been able to obtain medical care for Dean? What had been the delay? Blah, blah, blah, yadda yadda, the doctor nodded and was gone and Sam…..waited.

He was sure, at some point, he dosed off, because he was tired and had nothing else to do but…..wait. Time passed, people came, people went, a few tried to make small talk; someone offered him a soda…and he waited.

How long did it take to have x-rays? Jesus Christ. He knew hours had passed, it had to be dark outside, hell, dawn would be breaking soon and yet he sat and waited….He should go find the doctor, demand answers, insist on being taken to see Dean but he sat and…..he waited.

"Hey Sam."

Sam opened his one eye that hadn't swollen shut, head resting against the wall behind him. The blurry form of Benny stood in front of him some distance away. He let his eye close without acknowledging the vampire.

"Brought you a change of clothing, the nurse said there's a shower you can use."

"I'm ok."

"Yeah, no you're not…..come on…you stink and it's not just me who can smell you." Benny drawled, drawing looks from everyone else in the waiting room. Sam managed to pull off the dirty look with both eyes closed. Benny smirked. "She'll get you some Tylenol and an ice pack."

"Later."

"When was the last time you had something to eat? And don't give me that half eaten candy bar out in the woods this afternoon."

"Power bar." Sam corrected. "Yesterday."

"Yesterday what? Have you eaten anything since you've been here?"

"Donuts. Doctor has to come soon, it's been all night, then I'll go get breakfast."

"Breakfast? Sam, it's 10 o'clock."

"Fine, whatever…..I'll get lunch."

"P.M. Sam. It's just after 10 o'clock at night."

"No way." his eye closed.

Benny looked at Sam with concern. For the first time, he worried that perhaps Sam wasn't as ok as he'd led the vampire to believe. He'd been unconscious in the hospital for days. Had woken up and walked out then gone hiking in the woods, spending the night on the ground only to wake up and spend the day hiking. Benny was sure the truth was, Sam didn't know how hard he'd been hit in the head. His face sure looked like he'd gone a few rounds without lifting a hand to defend himself.

"Memmbe…."Benny paused, not sure how to tread with Sam who had the potential to go volatile without much provocation. "Memmbe you should get yourself looked at."

"Why?" he didn't want Benny's advice or suggestions. He didn't even want the vampire there. "I'm ok."

"Right, well, whatever." Benny shifted his weight uneasily. "I, aah, ain't staying. I don't….it's not a good place for me, you know? Just…you need anything, call me. I'll be at the motel."

Sam nodded. Wow, 10 o'clock? He swore it'd been all night. Okay, sure, he'd lost track of time, didn't know what time they'd left the woods or how long they'd spent at the motel but…it wasn't dawn? Really?

His eyes fell upon the folded jeans and shirt sitting on a chair next to him. His shaving kit sat atop the clothes, taunting, teasing, and tempting him with its contents: Shampoo, soap, deodorant, razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash. Benny had gotten that close to him and he hadn't known. That also meant, Benny had been in their motel room and gone through Sam's personal belongings. Son-of-a-bitch.

He got up, collected the items and made his way to the front desk where the nurse happily led him to an unoccupied patient's room where he made use of the room's shower/toilet bathroom and sink. Once showered and dressed, he asked the same nurse for directions to a diner where he could grab something to eat. The closest twenty-four hour restaurant to the hospital was a chain donut shop where he got a sandwich and coffee to go and returned to the waiting room to…wait.

He was asleep when the doctor finally came to talk to him. He sat up, only one eye obeyed his command to open and though it did so, it balked at the request to focus. The doctor began his spiel before Sam was able to comprehend what he was saying.

By the time he was able to catch up and hear actual words, the doctor had taken his silence as both agreement and acceptance. They were keeping Dean. He was severely dehydrated, running a fever over 102, had sustained blood loss but was not in need of a transfusion. They needed to gain control of the infection and get his fever down and he wasn't responding to treatment.

How well did his brother respond to antibiotics? Did he handle pain well? No, there was no damage to his foot. Surgery was not required. The doctors were mystified. Must be a miracle. He'd be in some pain for a while, there'd be swelling and discomfort but he wouldn't need physical therapy or rehab nor would there be any loss of motion or function in either his toes or ankle. Their concern was infection and fever.

If Sam would like, he could see Dean now.

Yeah, he'd like. Dumb ass. What the hell kind of question was that? They warned him Dean was asleep due to sedation and unlikely to wake up or respond to Sam but he was more than welcome to sit with his brother for a few minutes. Only a few moments, for visiting hours were over but he could return in the morning after 10 o'clock.

Sam snorted as he rose to his feet. Dizziness briefly assaulted him and he swayed, extending a hand to steady himself against the wall.

"Sir?" the doctor questioned.

"Long day, just woke up." Sam waved away his concern.

"Have you had yourself looked at? You've got a nasty black eye and…"

"I'm good, where is he?"

Finally! Finally, he was with Dean. Here he sat, next to the bed where his brother, one hand gripping the bed rail, the other more or less pinned to the mattress by the IV port, slept. Dean would sleep for a while, might wake up in the morning, but more likely it would be later afternoon. Sam knew better; knew if he wanted to, really wanted to, he could wake his brother up and he was torn. He wanted to remain with Dean, would stay at the hospital in the waiting room if they refused to allow him to stay in the room with his brother but….godammit, he didn't feel good.

At. All.

Now that he'd calmed down and gained his own way, sitting where he wanted, beside his brother, he was no longer able to deny what his body was telling him. It was mad at him and rebelling. His hands wouldn't stop shaking, his vision remained blurry no matter how fast or how many times he blinked. Rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles or digging with curled fists only served to make his forehead knock against his skull. His head - no - his face picked up the beat and pulsed right along with it, making him dizzy in a way he'd never in his life experienced.

And his ears, well, they were competing in a bell ringing competition, causing his stomach to churn and toss about until he was twice sent to the bathroom for fear he was going to puke. Both times he stood; his feet fought one another for dominance, unwilling to be placed where they needed to go in order for him to walk without lurching and grabbing at the wall for support. His hands took pleasure waving and flopping around until they painfully connected with something solid then refused to hold tight enough to support his weight.

If the rails hadn't been up on Dean's bed, Sam would have laid his head down on the mattress and gone to sleep. His neck would have kicked up a fuss when he woke up, but a hot shower would ease most of the kinks. He thought about lowering it, wasn't like Dean was in any danger of falling out of bed but…he frowned…Dean had two thumbs on the same hand, two noses, four eyes and where was his chin? Dammit, if his stupid brother would just lie still!

"Sir? I'm sorry….but you need to leave now." a nurse entered the room. "He's going to sleep until morning. Go home, get a good nights…" she stopped. "Sir? Are you all right?"

"Yeah." he winced, thumbs holding his eyelids closed. "Sorry, aahh, what were you saying?"

"It's late, you must be tired. Come back in the morning after breakfast."

"I'm good." he lowered his hands from his face and raised his head to meet her questioning look. "Just….I haven't…" he stopped talking at her startled gasp. "What?" he turned his head to check on Dean but he slept peacefully, hadn't even moved.

"Good Lord!" she exclaimed, taking a step back. Sam frowned at her reaction, Christ, he didn't look that bad, did he? "You sir, are going straight downstairs….and don't you argue with me."

Sam rose to his feet. He wished he was steady and able to confront her but his knees were weak and he remained standing due to his death grip on the bed rail. He waited a moment for his head to clear than turned to tell the nurse what he was going to do when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Well, damn, if he didn't know better, he'd say he was a cross-road demon. His left eye was completely red, no trace of white remained. Huh, when had that happened? Great, just great. What had caused a blood vessel to burst?

"Have you been checked for a head injury?" she demanded, hands on her hips. "Come with me."

He automatically responded to the tone of authority in her voice, turning to obey without realizing he was doing so. He was at the door before he caught himself.

"It's….I'm ok." he insisted tiredly. "It's just a blown blood vessel, nothing serious. I've been under some stress lately….I…"

"You might convince me to believe that if it was only one eye and your face wasn't swollen and bruised and your eye didn't roll in its socket when you try to focus it."

"Yeah, well…" he balked when she took hold of his arm by the elbow and attempted to steer him from the room. "Where are you….no…no, I don't need to see a doctor, I'm fine."

She took a moment to assess the situation. She didn't know much about the circumstances that had brought them to the hospital and while she felt she should push to have him go down to the ER, she really didn't have any authority to make him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, dropping her hand from his arm. "Have you eaten?"

Sam scowled. What was it with well-meaning females and their insistence that a meal would make everything all better? Man that annoyed the hell out of him! He opened his mouth to tell her exactly what he thought of her interference when her attention diverted from him to the doorway.

"There a problem here?" Benny asked casually. The thought going through his mind was Sam had flipped out, threatened someone and security was on their way.

"I don't believe so." she said uncertainly. "Do we have a problem?" she asked Sam.

"Yeah, we do if you think you're going to force me downstairs."

"Can we have a minute?" Benny asked quietly.

"Well, visiting hours….." she began but Benny gave her a charming smile and she nodded. "Sure….see if you can talk some sense into him." she slipped out of the room.

"What does she want you to do?" Benny asked Sam.

"Thought you left."

"Yeah, well harder than I thought."

"Why are you here?"

"Same reason you are."

"I don't want you here."

"I know. What's downstairs?"

"The ER."

"Can't blame her. Have you seen yourself?"

"Yes, and I'm fine."

"How do you know that? You left the hospital without ever talking to a doctor. What makes you so sure you're ok?"

"Cause Cas said so."

Benny looked around the room, gaze lingering on Dean. "Yeah, okay, sure, because you trust Cas so much."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why are we here? If Cas said everything's gonna be ok, why did you bring Dean in?"

"Cas never said Dean would be ok. All he said was he healed his foot."

"He gave you medicine."

"Go away."

"Look Sam, to be honest, I don't care if you blow a blood vessel in your head and hemorrhage so bad, you bleed out. I don't care if your brain swells and you drop from a stroke. Yeah, I get it, you hate me, you want me dead, you don't want me anywhere near your brother, given the chance you'd kill me yourself. I ain't all that fond of you either….but to him, you matter. He cares if you drop dead or become a drooling idiot, so suck it up and deal with the fact I ain't gonna let that happen."

Sam clenched both hands into fists and stared Benny down.

"And this ain't about you. It's about Dean and what he needs, what's best for him. The doctors confirmed what Cas told you, there's no need for him to stay here but you can't take him outta here and try to take care of him yourself when you can't see straight or stand up or stop your hands from shaking."

"What the hell do you want?"

"If you doubted Cas when it came to Dean, then don't trust him when it's yourself. If you won't go down to the ER and get checked out for yourself, then do it for Dean."

"I'm fine." Sam insisted, blinking. Overcome by a rush of warmth, he swayed, hands flung out in search of support.

"Or maybe not." Benny caught him as he went limp and eased him to the floor.

"Sammy?" Dean was up on one elbow, glaring at Benny with murder in his eyes.

"Great." Benny closed his eyes and prayed for Castiel to fly his feathery ass down pronto.