Several of you comment on every chapter and are so encouraging and supportive that I send you thanks for taking the time to leave your words. You know who you are, but if you like, I can name you!

If they kill Benny on the show and it takes Turkey Hill Chocolate Marshmallow ice cream to console me, I will SUE someone! Loosing Bobby took a WHOLE gallon, bag of Reese's miniatures, a box of Puff tissues with Aloe and many, many, miles/minutes on the elliptical machine. I can't go through that again.

"You get one?" Sam asked before Benny could retreat from the room. He released his hold on the gun and sat up, leaving it under the pillow.

"Aah, yeah. Never heard of an ear one and you weren't specific and the lady at the store said oral was more accurate…..they come digital now."

"Not so easy to use if the patient is unconscious." Sam pointed out. "Course, digital readings are faster, so guess it doesn't matter."

"You're welcome." Benny set the bag on the counter in the kitchenette next to the sink. "Passed a sub shop, brought you a sandwich."

"I didn't ask you to and I'm not hungry."

"Sam, enough…come on…you have to eat." Benny dispensed with polite conversation and prepared himself for Sam's displeasure.

"I did." Sam scowled.

"When? What? Two bites of a stale donut sandwich isn't eating."

"If you aren't here to help me with Dean, go away."

"You need to…"

"I don't need you telling me what I should or shouldn't be doing. I don't need you!"

Yeah, you do, Benny thought. "No, but Dean needs you." the vampire countered aloud, digging deep for patience. "You want me to wake him up, make him respond to me and ask him?"

"You try and….." Sam threatened, hands clenched into fists, eyes darting to the duffel bag on the floor that Benny knew held a very sharp machete.

Benny retreated to the other side of the second bed. "You want me to go out and get you something else? I didn't know what you liked, so brought turkey and cheese."

"What I want is for you to back off!"

"So, soup then?"

Sam wanted to launch himself at the well-meaning vampire, tackle him to the floor and proceed to beat the shit outta him but realistically, he didn't have the coordination to swat a fly. He doubted, due to the vampire's loyalty to Dean, Benny would do him serious harm but he didn't relish the thrashing he would likely receive.

"Could…you….just go?" Sam heaved a sigh, hands tangled in his hair. Everything was too much. The light, Benny's voice, the thought of food, Dean…

Benny hesitated, glancing at Dean who hadn't moved upon his entrance. "How's he doing?"

Sam gave a shrug that produced such a wince Benny doubted the wisdom of going and leaving the two of them alone. "He's quiet. Been sleeping since I gave him the medicine Cas left." he started to rise, then just let his ass fall to the mattress. "I'm gonna sleep some more."

Benny nodded. "Okay, do you…aah, mind….if I just hang out here for a bit?"

Sam grimaced, jaw tightening but he held his tongue and went flat on his back, swinging one leg at a time onto the mattress and eased on his side to face the wall, back to Benny.

"I'll take that as, 'I want you to get the fuck out but it's Dean, so do whatever the hell you want'." Benny muttered to himself as he went to put the sub in the fridge. "I'll just sit over here and read this book."

***000***

Dean let his breath exhale with a shaky rattle. He was despondent to discover he was still at the bottom of the well. He didn't need to open his eyes to know he lay upon hard ground, surrounded by slimy, smelly rock that he could not climb. He blinked, but his eyes remained dry and gritty. God, was his body was so deprived of moisture, he couldn't even produce tears?

Not. Good. Not Good at All.

He was thirsty, he always was and the thought of slurping tainted water, of which there was never enough, from his own dirty hand, made his belly curdle. Loathing the thought didn't make the action unnecessary so he gathered his depleted strength, collected his scattered wits and tried to sit up.

He frowned, coughing against the dryness in his throat now swollen from dehydration. He couldn't remember much of anything and certainly no order of events over the length of time he'd been in the hole in the ground but he was quite certain his last lucid thought had sent him crawling across the mud to the water that trickled down the moss-covered rock so why wasn't he there?

"You're awake?"

Dean tilted his head, searching for the familiar, yet out-of-place voice. What the hell was he still doing in the well if he'd been found? That voice, he knew it, but he couldn't place it. Wasn't Sam and wasn't that odd for who else would be with him? His tongue darted out, lips smacking as his jaw worked but he didn't speak.

"Thirsty?" the voice asked.

He was jostled, his head lifted and supported and the cool feel of glass caressed his bottom lip. His teeth bit tight against the rim of the cup and he gulped the water as it flowed into his mouth. Okay, a familiar voice and comforting touch meant he wasn't at the bottom of the well. Meant he wasn't alone, meant someone had found him and gotten him out. Not Sam, wasn't Cas….so who?

"Don't gulp." he was warned and though the glass remained between his lips, the wonderful flow of clean, good-tasting water ceased. He whined in protest, hand finding and grabbing the wrist near his mouth, holding tight as his tongue sought the water. "You can have more….but don't gulp it."

His fingers squeezed and his thumb pressed and prodded but the hand within his grip remained cold. So, not the well - purgatory. "What're you doing here?" he managed to lift eyelids heavy with weariness, enough to bring a hatless Benny into blurry view. That was odd, had he ever seen the vampire without his hat? No, he hadn't, so not purgatory either. Where the fuck was he? Panic hit him and his first thought was not of himself. "Sam?"

"Right there." a thumb on his jaw turned his head, still being supported, to the left where, after forcing his eyes wider, he was able to identify a fully dressed Sam laying all kinds of wrong-ways across the bed. "Kid's okay, just exhausted."

"What'd he do?" so, motel room, with Sam; all was good.

"Found you."

"I…don't feel good." he let his mind wander, taking a mental inventory. He was wearing a long sleeved thermal shirt, and, oh thank god, underwear.

"I believe you."

"Don't remember."

"Short story. You and Sam were separated on Wednesday. He started looking for you on Saturday, found you Sunday and today's Monday."

"The well." Dean forgot about Sam and returned his attention to the water, drinking until Benny took it away from him. "No! Want more."

"In a bit."

"Foot….hurts…..head…hurts."

"Yeah, you took quite a fall."

"Sam?"

"Let him sleep."

Sam remained as he was. He'd come awake the moment he'd heard the raspy croak from his brother in the bed next to him but Benny had been there and when there'd been no verbal or physical outburst from Dean, Sam had made the decision to let Benny handle him.

Truth was Sam wasn't at all sure he was capable of dragging his beaten carcass off the bed and attending his brother. His forehead, his eye, his cheekbone, his jaw, hell his teeth, were all auditioning against one another in an attempt to be the first to join the out-of-tune orchestra currently splitting his head apart. Each and every possible part of his head either ached or throbbed or pulsed against tight, swollen, bruised skin.

Had Dean truly needed him, he would have found the inner strength to do whatever it took to make his brother comfortable and give him the help he needed and while he was loath to accept help from Benny, Sam was neither stupid nor selfish. Stubborn? Hell yes, but until he could sit up without being assaulted with dizziness, Benny could stick around. And it wasn't like Dean was complaining about Benny being with him either.

Something was placed into his hand, wrapping his fingers around the towel-clad object. "He went back to sleep." his hand holding the ice pack was guided towards his face but when his arm flopped over his head to lay on the mattress, his hand was relieved of the too-heavy weight and it was gently laid upon the left side of his face. "See if that helps."

***000***

Dean drifted in and out. He didn't know how much time passed. Could be hours, could be days, might have been a week, he didn't know. He was warm and comfortable and clean and he didn't smell. Every time he moved, someone laid a hand on his shoulder. Every time he whimpered or moaned, caught his breath, hissed or simply made a noise, either Sam or Benny appeared over him, shushing him, telling him he was ok, asking him how he felt.

He awoke every time his mouth was invaded by something poking between his teeth. He was told to stay still and hold it under this tongue and after it was removed, his head was held and he was rewarded with the offer of as much water as he wanted. At first, he was merely uncomfortable but as time passed, he became downright miserable. He ached, he was hot and he'd break out in such a heavy sweat that when it dried on his feverish skin, it made him shiver with chills and though he wanted to rub the goose bumps from his arms, his hands wouldn't move.

Every time he tried to open his eyes, which was frequently, he failed. He was unable to blink tears; his eyelashes were heavy against his cheeks and his eyelids so dry and cracked, it was too painful to try and open them so he stopped trying despite the repeated order to do so. He no longer felt parched, his throat wasn't swollen and his mouth had lost the feel it was stuffed with cotton, so why didn't his eyes feel better? Why didn't they work? He heard voices in the distance, talking about him, arguing quietly before finally coming to what was apparently an agreement.

"Side effect, you think?" he heard Benny ask. Dean frowned; despite closed eyes, he knew the room was dim, probably because bright light made Sam sick and lordy, the poor kid didn't need any more discomfort. "Or is that normal for him?"

Was what normal for whom? Dean tried to concentrate; when that failed, he settled for merely trying to focus but that feat eluded him as well. What was wrong? What was going on? Why did he feel so awful? Why did his eyes hurt so badly? What was wrong with him? Why was Benny there? Something had to be really wrong for Benny to be in the same room as Sam and….were they talking to one another?

Ha! Sam shot Benny a defiant glare. See, you don't know him as well as I do! The warmth in his chest spread until he had to bite his lip to keep the triumphant smile from his face. So, best friend Benny might know what Dean's favorite soup was and was trusted enough to tend an injury Dean had acquired but he didn't know every symptom and detail like Sam did. Sam lowered his head as the depth of his immaturity hit him.

"Cloth with cold water?" Benny was still talking but Dean had yet to hear Sam respond. Where was Sam? Was he still there? Who else would Benny be talking to? "He's drinking a lot and often, could be another side effect."

"Can try it." Sam said wearily. "Huh, aah, don't suppose you'd…" he hated to ask Benny for a favor but he was too tired to leave the motel room. "Go back to the store."

"What do you want?"

"Eye drops, artificial tears? Something, anything that might help."

There was his Sammy. He sounded tired but he was close and he wasn't leaving. Dean wanted to open his eyes and see his brother but his body wasn't obeying any of his commands. He didn't need to speak to make Sam understand what he wanted to say; he could do it with an expression but….maybe later. The last thing he remembered was a cold cloth being laid across his eyes. Oooh, now that felt good.

More time passed. Hands were always on his foot, wiggling his toes or feeling his forehead or wrist…what the hell…were they seriously checking his pulse? More offers of water and soup and words of comfort and a cold, wet cloth for his eyes. A thumb massaged his eye socket and a finger stroked his eyebrow, forcefully prying his eye open and flooding it with moisture. It stung and he groaned his distress as light pierced his vision but his displeasure was ignored and the procedure was repeated on his other eye. He tried to fling his head first one way, then the other but the grip holding him still was too strong to dislodge.

He waited, panting, lips parted, tongue curled against his upper lip, expecting his reward of water for suffering through yet another invasive act of what he supposed was medicine being administered but the liquid when it came was not water. Was not anything he'd ever had the misfortune to taste before in his life.

He promptly spit it out. Having expected it to be water, he'd accepted a mouthful. His arms and hands and eyes and conscious thought may not work correctly, but the muscles needed to spit responded very well.

"Son-of…" Benny snagged the towel mid-air Sam tossed his way.

"Oh yeah." Sam said nonchalantly. "Forgot, he has a tendency to throw up if he tastes something he doesn't like." went back to the vile potion he'd been forced to drink to not become/remain a vampire but Sam wasn't about to share that with anyone.

"He do it for you?" Benny wiped the milk from his sleeve, Dean's chin and chest and the pillow which he finally just tossed over to Sam's bed.

"No." the reminder wiped any amusement from Dean's antics away. "Here, let me try."

***000***

Dean faded out, came back, and faded out. The pain in his foot every time it was held or moved and unwrapped or ice was applied brought him around if not lucid. He'd grunt in protest, submit to having his eyes 'watered', his foot tended, his mouth invaded and let the praise offered to him for being good soothe him. He cautiously sniffed before drinking, willingly taking the offer of soup from a spoon before accepting his water with a contented smile. He thought after a time, he'd be left alone to sleep without someone watching over him, but…no. Whenever he managed to open his eyes, someone was in the chair next to his bed or at the desk or in the armchair across the room or in the bed beside his.

Once, he opened his eyes to see a trio of men peering down at him from above as if expecting him to perform some amazing accomplishment. What the hell did they expect him to do? Oh, right. Drink that god awful milk. He was going to have a serious talk with Sam with his fist if the kid seriously believed that drink was a milkshake. Hold him down, force him to drink it and see how loud he sang its praises then, the fucking little liar.

The next time Dean woke up, he immediately demanded water. He expected the same service that had been offered to him all the times before but this time, no one spoke, no one held a glass for him with the offer of water and he heard no movement suggesting his demand had been heard. Well, fuck. Ok, fine. He'd get his own damn water. He'd dragged himself across a mud-strewn well to get water; he sure as hell could pick a glass up from the bedside table.

Frowning, eyes still closed, because opening them required more coordination that he currently possessed, he flung his left arm out in a blind search of the glass. His wrist was caught; his arm was held still then firmly pressed down against the mattress. When no one spoke and no offer of water was forthcoming, he screwed up every muscle in his cheeks, clenched his jaw and accomplished a slit in his puffy, dirt-scratched eyes. Least his eyes appeared to be working now.

Castiel stood, head tilted to one side, eyes wide, focused and unblinking and staring at him, hands now shoved into the pockets of his coat. He just stared, offered no aide, no assistance, and no words of greeting.

"Oh for the love of…..Cas give him a drink."

"Sam, I don't believe alcohol at this time would be….."

"Water Cas. He's thirsty." Sam was sprawled on this stomach, head buried under the pillow but he knew what his brother wanted.

"Oh." Cas moved his head to survey the room in search of the water Sam seemed determined his brother wanted. "Should I retrieve it from the bathroom sink or the sink in what you call, but in fact isn't, the kitchen?"

"The fridge Cas. We don't have much, require less but one thing we do splurge on is bottled water." he didn't add it was because over the years they'd both gotten ill from unfiltered water more than once. The last time, some several years ago had been the last time. Now that was a stomach ailment he certainly never cared to experience again.

"I see." Cas stood unmoving for another moment then walked over to the small fridge where he removed a bottle of water and took a seat in the armless chair next to Dean's bed. "Here you are Dean, water." he held the bottle out and waited. "Sam, I don't understand. You said he was thirsty." he said perplexed. "Why will he not take…..?"

Sam threw the pillow in a mini-fit. He'd slept for several hours, content to let Benny hang around and pop up every twenty minutes or so to check on Dean. The sleep and ability to remain in bed had been to his benefit. Gel packs and ice wrapped in a bath towel had also helped reduce both the pain and swelling in his eye and cheek and jaw and his head no longer warred with his face. What he needed now was something to eat. He'd managed half the sandwich Benny had left earlier but now his stomach growled its agitation over being denied breakfast, lunch and dinner.

"You have to pour the water into the glass and help him drink it."

"Why?"

"Because he's not with it enough to accomplish the act on his own." he rolled over and sat up. He'd let others be responsible for his brother the entire day and it was time he took the job on as his own. "I've got him…go….go…I dunno, go do whatever it is you do."

"I am here to help you take care of Dean."

"Awesome." he slid to the edge of the bed and put both feet on the floor. It was time to get out of the clothes he'd slept in, take a hot shower, shave, get something to eat and take some mild pain relief. He was sure he'd heard Benny say he'd bought some Anaprox and he felt confident his stomach would now tolerate it. Asking Cas how Dean was doing would be useless. If Sam wanted to know, he'd have to ask Benny. He snorted, watched Cas awkwardly try to help Dean drink from the glass and smirked. There were some things Cas was just clueless about.

Dean chased the glass that bobbed and butted against his lips but never remained still. "Nuff." he wanted to hold the glass but Cas refused to relinquish it so he settled for holding Cas's wrist still and raised his head to the glass when Cas didn't lower it. He wasn't able to hold his head up for long and grunted his displeasure over his inability to obtain the water.

"Hold his head Cas…..no, not like that." Sam hid a grin but Cas didn't pick up on the teasing lilt of Sam's voice. "Put your hand under his head and hold it up then put the glass to his mouth, you're making him chase it…..don't."

"I don't….feed people Sam."

Sam rose to his feet with an ease that belied how he felt. "Move…..like this." he took the glass from Cas and lifted Dean's head from the pillow with practiced ease. "Hey there…..hi ya." holding the glass steady, he let Dean drink his fill, frowning over the heat coming from the cheek that was closest to his wrist.

"Sam." Dean tried to shift, wanting his weight off his hip that ached from its raised position, but his leg balked and his foot said, NO. "Ow." tears welled and despite rapid, repeated blinking, spilled over. His arm, now holding Sam's wrist began to ache and he shook free, letting it drop heavily to the mattress. He wanted to wipe at his eyes, drag the back of his hand across his cheeks but neither arm wanted to obey his simple command. "Ow."

"Sam, he's bleeding." Cas sounded panicked. Sam rolled his eyes. Good ole Cas; bad-ass warrior angel one minute, nervous clueless newbie the next.

"It's just from where the IV was inserted in the hospital." Sam said calmly. "He's ok."

"You – look – awful." each word was drawn out and spoken slowly with effort. "What happened?" Dean let his eyes close, the effort of keeping them open too great. "Your eye…..eyes….."

"Still got 'em." Sam assured him. "One is swollen closed, the other has a ruptured blood vessel, I'm good."

"I'm not."

"You're ok." he frowned when Dean squirmed. "What's the matter?"

"Gotta get up." he licked his lips. "Just….wanna ….but my foot…."

"Yeah." Sam sighed. "Had enough?"

"Mmm….I…Benny here?"

"Yeah. When you sit up, try not to move your foot, okay? Ready?"

Dean managed to actually pin Sam with an incredulous look. How the hell was he supposed to get up and not move his foot?

"Where's Benny?" Dean asked as he shifted his weight on his right side, Sam helping him by holding his foot so he wouldn't raise his leg. "What'r'ya doing?" he smacked Sam's hand down.

"Do you feel hot? Like, running a fever hot?"

"Huh?" he scowled. "Am'ma sick?" is that why Sam looked so upset? Why he was worried? Scared? That didn't make any sense, Dean'd been sick before. And Cas was there, he could just heal him. Wait, no, there was something…something Cas couldn't do any longer. What was it? If only his head didn't hurt so, and his foot wasn't on fire and he didn't feel like shit, he might be able to think and grasp what was going on. Least his eyes felt better. If he were that ill, wouldn't he be in the hospital?

"You feel hot…..gimme a minute." Sam held the thermometer up but the look on Dean's face told him he wasn't going to get much cooperation. "Okay, so….after the bathroom then." he dragged the blankets back and reached out to take hold of Dean.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean demanded. The look he gave Sam's arm stated if a finger so much as touched him, Sam would draw back a broken wrist.

"Helping you."

"I don't need your help. Get the hell away from me."

"Do you want Cas to take you?"

"NO!" Dean shouted, appalled. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"How are you going to walk Dean?" hands went to his hips. "The crutches are at the cabin."

"I don't need crutches or you or Cas. Good Christ, the bathroom is right there!"

Benny came through the outside door. "Hey, finally awake, huh?" he greeted cheerfully. "About time, you slept all day."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" it was official. Everyone had gone mad. Dean rolled his eyes as the three men began to bicker and neglect to pay him any attention. Christ, all he had to do was pee. Nothing for anyone to get all upset over. Gee-whiz, he could take himself to the bathroom. He didn't need anyone's help. Hadn't needed help since he was what, three?

"NO!" three voices shouted in unison.

Now what the hell were they all pissy about? His feet hit the floor. He hadn't even borne any weight on them and he was a boneless heap on the floor between the beds. He fuzzed out and activity whirled around him in frenzy. He was petted and patted, picked up and hugged and carried. His eyes remained slotted just enough to make out shapes. He was vertical, in the bathroom, standing on one leg in front of the toilet, supported on either side while voices argued whether or not he should remain standing or sit down.

He didn't wait for their decision.

Carried back to bed, he was settled with a pillow under and an ice bag on top of, his foot. More arguing, more petting and patting and a hand - paw - Sam's, on his forehead. The arguing became more intense and voices were raised. The stick was between his teeth, then a beep, some cursing and he was pulled upright in bed. His shirt was pulled off over his head, leaving him shivering in his boxer briefs. He was carried back to the bathroom and deposited in a tub of tepid water and no amount of threats or pleading or begging convinced anyone to remove him from it.

"Cas….if his fever doesn't come down…" Sam's voice shook and he cleared his throat.

"Then administer the medicine in the blue bottle."

Benny came to the doorway of the bathroom. Dean had gone quiet and still in the tub, no longer demanding to be let out.

"Sam, Cas will make sure he doesn't drown. Come sit down."

"No." he turned around to look at Dean, Cas at his back so he didn't see the look exchanged between the two men.

"I can make you sleep Sam." Cas said calmly.

Fury erupted and Sam whirled around to face him. He spun too fast and the world didn't spin with him. He took one step towards Cas and wilted to the floor.

"Which one do you want?" Benny asked Cas with a sigh. Castiel pointed to Sam. "Grab his feet then."