Thanks again for the feedback! A lot of you asked for this one. I had imagined it coming a little later, but this works too. Minor warning for language. This ficlet was too ambitious for the word limit. It originally clocked in at nearly 800 words. I sacrificed so much by cutting it that I decided to break my own rules to flesh it out a bit more. Sorry not sorry.

Let me know what you think.

Side Effects

Word Count: 500

They flee the Idaho wilds for civilization.

Dean's head throbs, but he refuses to complain because just twenty hours ago, Sam was holding his innards inside of him. He endures until the sun dips low and golden in the sky, emitting fiery light so bright that the road wavers and rolls in front of him. He carefully digs out the bottle of painkillers, and taps out three to dry-swallow.

A giant hand swats them away so violently, they scatter throughout the car. The Impala follows, veering onto the embankment and skidding to an erratic stop.

Sam is sheet-white and fuming. "What the fuck are you doing?" Sam growls.

Dean aims for innocence, "Uh…headache."

"Pretty sure that's a side effect from a drug overdose, idiot. You really thought I wouldn't find out?!" Sam levers himself out of the car with a yelp of agonized exasperation.

Dean tries to draw in a cleansing breath with busted ribs and a wrecked spirit. He crosses the field where Sam is bowed against a scarred tree trunk. "I think you've done enough wounded nature walks for a lifetime. Get your ass in the car, Sammy."

"You can't just surrender when I die."

"It's my choice."

"Like you give a damn about choices! Mine was to stay at the cabin. If you would've listened..." Sam grimaces. "Well, it would've saved everyone a lot of pain."

"There's no universe where I'd leave you gut-shot and defenseless."

"I smoked both fangs and saved your ass, didn't I?" Sam fires back. "How do you think I would've felt if I survived all of that to find out that you killed yourself?" Sam's chin trembles, and Dean heart breaks a bit more. "How do you think I feel now?!"

He'd only seen Sam's body splayed out on the floor, breathless lungs and a beatless heart. Nothing else had mattered. "I got them to safety, because that's what you would've wanted. After that…I just couldn't—"

"Save it! I've heard it a thousand times, and it ends now. You die to save me again, and I'm driving your precious car into a brick wall or over a cliff the first chance I get."

Dean shudders, horrified. "Those meds are making you bonkers."

"Corbin thought he was saving the person he loved when he strangled me. I killed him in front of his wife to save you. You don't think she wants him back? Can't you see that breaking these rules it's colossally wrong?"

Dean can't battle Sam when he's still devastated from the hunt and what Dean had done. Beyond that, he's right. "Alright, Norma Rae. Get off your soapbox before you pop something."

He ducks under Sam's arm to guide him back to the car, but reels him in for a bone-crushing hug he shouldn't have been strong enough for. Except summoning otherworldly strength or shouldering great sacrifice is the Winchester way of showing love. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I won't do it again."

For now, at least, he means it.