Yo! New chapter up. Wanted to post a new one before leaving for Asylum 4 (jippi!).

So last chapter wasn't a big hit. Hopefully this will taste a little better with some hot limp!Sam haha (coughs checkmyicononmyprofile cough) hehe

Thanks to beta checker, Ravanne as usual!

N - Nosebleed

- Set to "The Real Ghostbusters"

Not again. Dean could only watch as Sam was thrown through the air by the ghost of Leticia Gore. He had watched his brother get hurt one time too many. He heard the two wannabe Winchesters screaming and Dean knew what he had to do despite what he wanted to do. He threw Sam a second glance, seeing his brother sprawled out on the grass; he wasn't moving.

"Damn it!" He covered the bones with salt before jumping out of the grave after dropping a match down in it. The ghost screamed like they always do as she dissolved in a flash of fire. Dean turned his head and was relieved to see the two idiots were still alive.

"You believe us now?" Dean snapped at to the two guys who kept gasping for air like freshly reeled in fish. Satisfied that they were okay, Dean turned back to where Sam had fallen and rushed over to him. His little brother was lying sprawled out his full body length, his arms over his head and legs akimbo after the harsh landing.

"Sam?" Dean crawled the short distance and dropped down beside Sam and leaned over him.

"The ghost is gone now, Sammy," he said gently, tapping Sam's cheek and he immediately got a reaction.

"Knew you were faking it," Dean joked as Sam groaned and pulled a hand down to press at his head.

"Shut up," Sam mumbled and winced. He sat up in the grass, feeling Dean's arm around his back to support him.

"How are Laurel and Hardy?" Sam joked, but not even a hint of a smile reached his lips. Dean looked up to see the two guys fitting that description perfectly.

"You guys okay?" Dean asked them and Sam turned to look over his shoulder, a frown on his face.

"Uh… No, not really" the skinny one said, scratching the back of his head. The boisterous guy nudged his friend in the side with a grimace.

"Better then him I guess." The bigger one gestured at Sam, who was rubbing the back of his head. "He doesn't look too good."

"Did you hit your head on a tombstone, or something?" Dean asked Sam. He hadn't thought about that and turned his focus back to Sam when his little brother tried to stand. It wasn't before then he noticed the blood dripping from both nostrils.

"Ah damn it. You know red looks good on you as long as it's not coming out of you," Dean joked and put a hand behind Sam's neck while fishing up his flashlight from his back pocket. He hoped that his light tone would put Sam at ease, because getting himself upset would not help his little brother one bit.

"Hold still," Dean ordered gently, as he flashed the light at Sam's eyes to check his reaction. He tightened his hold around his brother's neck when Sam flinched away from the light.

"Damn it," Dean pocketed the flashlight again when he'd come to the conclusion that Sam had a concussion. Hopefully the nosebleed didn't hint at a more serious head injury.

"Take this." He fished out a handkerchief from Sam's own pocket and pressed it against Sam's nose. Dean made sure his brother was holding the cloth to his nose before starting to walk back to the hotel, supporting Sam and helping to steer him in the right direction. Dean barely looked up at the other two men, not wanting to see the concerned and sympathetic expression on their faces. He focused on keeping Sam moving, his arm around Sam's waist to help him along.

Dean was grateful that the hotel was so close to the cemetery. By the time they had reached the hotel lobby, Sam was almost walking blindly and was having problems keeping his hand over the bloody nose. The biggest of the two wannabe's walked in front of them like some bodyguard, clearing the path before them. Usually that would annoy Dean, but right then he was grateful to have some to keep people out of Sam's way.

"Thanks, guys. I can take it from here." Dean dragged Sam with him into the elevator and pushed a button before either of the other young men had a chance to follow.

When they finally reached their room, Sam started to move towards his bed, but was pulled towards the bathroom instead.

"Oh come on! it's just nosebleed," Sam groaned as his brother wrestled him through the bathroom door and pushed him gently down onto the toilet seat. "Just let me get some rest. I'll be fine."

"It can be a sign of internal bleeding, Sammy. You know that." Dean pulled off Sam's jacket and tossed it onto the nearest bed. He looked down at his miserable looking brother.

"Make you a deal… If you do turn out to be fine, I will let you get to sleep while I take care of some business."

Sam frowned at that,

"What business? We finished the job." Sam let his head dip forward when Dean ran a careful hand through his hair, combing his hair away for his close inspection.

"I don't know her real name, Sammy," Dean snickered, rubbing the back of Sam's head finding no lumps or blood.

"That actress? Oh come on, Dean." Sam's shoulders hitched once with a snort.

"Don't we have better things to do?" Sam winced a bit as Dean twisted his head to the side to continue his thorough search for wounds.

"Uh… no? We just burned Leticia Gore's bones so now it's time to save that poor chick from all the nerds," Dean said cockily as he finished up.

'No wounds. Why are you still bleeding from your nose? Did you..?" He stopped himself when Sam glared at him.

"No I haven't used my powers behind your back. I promised you that I wouldn't." Sam almost whined quietly and Dean felt guilty at once. He couldn't lie though. He didn't fully trust Sam yet, though he did seem to have learned from his mistakes.

"Hold still," Dean removed Sam's hand from his nose and the little cloth was saturated with blood. Dean made sure Sam kept his head tilted back before wetting a small towel and returned to Sam's side and pressed it to Sam's nose. Sam squirmed, but Dean secured the towel against his nose by keeping a hand on his brother's neck.

"It's cold!" Sam complained and glared at Dean.

"Suck it up," Dean sighed and luckily it didn't take long for Sam to quiet down.

"Let me check your eyes again, princess."

Two minutes later Dean had come to the conclusion that Sam luckily did not have a concussion anyway and the bleeding nose was probably from the hit he had taken by Leticia Gore. His eyes were clear and reacting to light normally, and all of the injuries seemed superficial.

"You sure you are okay?" Dean asked from the door to the room and looked to where his little brother was stretched out on one of the beds. "You're not going to go into a coma if I leave you here, will you?"

"I'm fine. Go save the girl, idiot," Sam waved a hand at his brother and that was all Dean needed.

Sam woke up with a start sometime during the night. Despite the late hour, the convention seemed to still be in full swing. He could hear music and laughter through the walls. He sat up in bed, still fully dressed since getting some sleep had been more important than shucking off his dirty clothes. He stood up and walked over to the door, feeling much better.

As soon as he had opened the door he swore he could hear children's laughter. He shook it off. They had taken care of the ghost, so there shouldn't be anything more to worry about than some inebriated conventioneers. In the meantime, a shower and some more sleep was just what he needed. He turned to close the door when he picked up another sound from the room just across the hall from theirs. A pitched squeal and then a hushing sound.

Narrowing his eyes, Sam inched closer; his eared pricked as he leaned closer to the door and tried to catch the muffled sounds. His eyes turned huge when he realized what he was listening in on. He would recognize his brother's voice and laughter from anywhere, accompanied with a girl's laughter.

"Oh gross." He hurried back into his own room and shut the door maybe a little too hard. He had walked in on Dean before by accident once before and the mental images were still painfully fresh in his mind. He didn't need a repeat performance.

Ten minutes later, the door to their room re-opened and a fresh and happy looking Dean came in.

"Hey there, Sammy. Feeling better?" Dean grinned wickedly, looking entirely satisfied with himself.

"I see you are," Sam scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Hell yeah. What a tiger that girl is. I guess a weekend with just geeks does make on desperate in more then one way," Dean laughed, but it slowly trailed off when Sam glared at him.

"So what's up? What are you doing up? It's like two in the morning." Dean asked.

"I don't know. I've got a weird feeling that maybe we're not done here yet," Sam groaned from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed before slowly letting himself fall down on it, lying halfway across the bed.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It seemed way too easy to just be a salt and burn," Dean nodded in agreement.

"Easy for you to say. You didn't get knocked around and sucker punched by a ghost." Sam tilted his head to look at his brother.

"Thought you would be used to that by now," Dean whispered to himself with a slight smile.

"What did you say?" Sam groaned in annoyance.

"Nothing. Never mind. Come on. Let's check out the hotel and see if we can find out if your sixth sense is right," Dean helped Sam up from the bed and together they went out to explore the hotel yet again.

Once again, the result of their exploration and not knowing to leave well enough alone resulted in both Winchesters on the ground, panting for air just as the little ghost kids were sent to their eternal rest.

"Guess they did it," Dean said, sounding a bit surprised. "The beanpole and the potato sack saved the day. Who would have thought?" While it was a bit mortifying that two highly experienced hunters had needed help from a pair of amateurs, at least everyone made it out in one piece.

He sat up and looked over to where his giant brother was lying on the floor, rubbing his forehead where a blade had been press just seconds earlier.

"Don't be rude, Dean. They're not that bad," Sam ran a hand through his hair just to be sure the top of his head was still there. He jumped a little in surprise when Dean popped up over him, offering a hand up. As soon as they both were standing again Sam felt something tickle down over his lips.

"Oh no, not again," he groaned, knowing at once what the cause was. This time he had hit the floor too hard.

"I think your nose is starting to look slightly crooked," Dean joked humorlessly and patted Sam on the back. "Guess this just really isn't your weekend?"

"Hmpf. Hope next weekend isn't yours then," Sam snickered slightly when Dean nudged him in the side.

"That's just cruel," Dean warned and shook his head. He looked out the window as they walked down the corridors. The sun was rising and he could see police cars and ambulance arriving in the hotel parking lot. Sam seemed to see that too and looked at Dean while pressing the button to the elevator.

"How on earth are we going to explain the death of that German dude? Oh, and all the freaked out geeks that saw real life ghosts?" Sam asked.

Dean seemed to ponder at this while waiting for the elevator to get to the first floor. The door pinged open and they stepped out. They were met by more or less fifty fans trying to be the first one to tell the police officers what they had witnessed. Dean grinned and looked up at Sam. They wouldn't have any trouble slipping away in the confusion.

"We'll let them figure it out themselves this time. Okay?" Sam just nodded in agreement and sneaked out a backdoor so they didn't need to talk to the police.

"Oh, and the next time 'Chuck' texts us," Dean made a quotation marks in the air with his fingers, making sure that both he and Sam knew who he was really talking about. "Let's ignore it."

So this was originally supposed to be a comedic chapter, but I guess that changed somewhere along the way. Kinda wished it was the last chapter because it would kinda fit huh? XD