It was the middle of winter, 12 year olds weren't supposed to be out in the woods in the middle of winter. Sam huffed, blowing his bangs out of his eyes and settling his chin into the crook of his arms, staring out the frosted window. Dean should be at home, with him, he should be poking Sam in the ribs and ranting about the hot chick on t.v. Dean should not be in the middle of nowhere huddled in a salvation army jacket that didn't cover his wrists. Sam huffed again, using his sleeve to clear off some of the condensation that coated the window pane so he could continue to look for the flicker of headlights.

"I hate this." Sam groaned, finally standing up from his folded position, wiggling his tingling fingers around to get the circulation back. "You know what fine! They want to leave me all alone, I'm not waiting up, I'm going to bed."

Quite content with his little victory Sam crawled up into the unmade hotel bed, curling up his 8 year old body until it was nearly the size of a pillow, and yanked the blankets up passed his nose. His hazel eyes drifted closed, he could almost hear humming.

Supernaturallloverja

The door meeting the wall, that's what startled Sam from his slumber, the crack of the metal doorknob cracking into the plaster with a great force. A low whimper, that's what got Sam out from beneath the covers, his brother's whimper. Sam shot up from his cocoon of blankets, kicking away the enveloping fabric and clambered out bed. A shiver ran through his body as cold air squirmed through his thin pajamas, but the temperature didn't really register. All Sam was paying attention to was his brother.

Dean was whimpering softly, eyes rolling around in his skull as he clamped two bloody hands over his gut. Sam couldn't see much past the shredded flannel and blood but from the desperate look on his Dad's face it couldn't be good.

"Sam." John's voice startled him from his stupor, Sam jerked, "Get some towels, lots of towels, warm water, and the first aid kit from the trunk."

Sam nodded slowly but his feet didn't budge. His bare toes dug deep into the frayed carpet as his brother was laid delicately on the bed. "Sam!"

His dad's bark caused him to release his hold on the carpet and take off towards the bathroom. He scooped 3 towels off the shelf and gripped the thin cotton of the towel draped over the door before sprinting back into the room. He dumped the towels and ran back into bathroom, switching on the hot water tap before swiping a bowl off the kitchenette counter. He walked steadily back, careful not to slosh any of the tepid water over the edge. Eyes glued to the bowl he set it on the side table, careful not to glimpse his brother as he ran out to the impala, because if he looked at his brother he wouldn't be able to leave his side. As he came back in with the kit Dean was removing his hands from his midsection and Sam almost retched. He could see his brother's insides. The flesh of Dean's abdomen had been sliced open and his guts were on full view.

"What happened?" Sam murmured, barely registering the words were out loud.

"I'll explain later Sam, right now I need your help." Sam nodded vacantly and came to stand by Dean. Dean wasn't crying. He wasn't screaming in agony, he was just lying there, eyes rolling. His skin was cool and clammy under Sam's hand, shock. "Sam dip one of those towels in the water, I need to be able to see what I'm stitching."

"Shouldn't you give him something?" His voice was shaky, eyes never tearing from his brother's pale face.

"No time." Sam nodded, snatching a towel p from the heap and dipping it down into the water before ringing it and handing it to his father .John moved slowly and carefully, wiping the congealed blood from the edges, careful not to agitate the wound. The bleeding had slowed, that was good, right? "Holy water."

Sam rooted around the kit for a moment before his fingers brushed the slick metal of the flask, he handed it over. The second the water hit the wound it fizzled, and Dean screamed. A new awareness of the world came into focus in Dean's head as burning agony ate at his torn up insides. The sound was guttural and mixed with a broken sob, it tore at Sam's chest.

"Try to hold him down!" John cried desperately as jerking motions Dean was making caused the bleeding to take on a new ferocity. Sam pressed his palms as hard as he could on both of his brother's shoulders. Dean jerked harder, bringing his eyes up to Sam.

"Sam." The voice was ragged and soft, his eyes watery and begging for reprieve.

"It's going to be okay Dean, Dad and I are going to take care of you, I'm going to take care of you." Dean nodded slowly, green orbs going distant again as he slumped back against the cheap motel pillows. Sam relaxed his grip but didn't pull back, he would rather stare at the part of his brother that was intact. Dean's face was white and clammy, sweat plastering his dark gold hair to his forehead. His lips were parted, sucking in soft pants of air, eyes open and staring. "Dad, something is wrong."

John's head snapped up from his current position by Dean's shredded abdomen and he stood slowly, coming closer to his eldest face. "Dean?"

No reaction.

"Dean, son, can you hear me?"

Nothing. Dean just continued to stare.

"Dean?" His voice was gaining pitch and desperation as he began shaking Dean, his head bobbing up and down. "Son, answer me!"

"Dad what's going on?"

"Sam call 911."

"But Dad…"

"Just do it Sam!" John barked, cradling Dean's head in between his hands. "Dean answer me."

His voice was different, soft and begging, Sam didn't hesitate to grab the motel phone. "911 what is your emergency?"

"My brother, there was accident, his stomach is cut open."

"Can you give me your address?"

"The Motel 6, on Redding Street."

"Alright, I have dispatched an ambulance. Now, what's your name son?"

"Sam, and my brother is Dean."

"Do you have an adult with you Sam?"

"Yes, my dad is here."

"Can you ask your Dad if your brother is breathing?"

Sam nodded, removing his mouth from the phone receiver, "Dad, is he bre…breathing?"

John took a moment to answer, eyes glued down to his little boy, "No."

Sam took a moment to process the information, "No he isn't breathing. You have to hurry! Please he's my brother!"

"The ambulance is almost there, does your Dad know CPR?"

John's rough voice startled him, "If I try CPR he will bleed out."

"He said…"

"I heard honey." Then there was a bustle of action.

The paramedics rushed in, rolling a stretcher up beside the motel bed and moving Dad away from the bed. John stepped back numbly as the paramedics hooked a mask over Dean's face and placed a pressure bandage over his weeping wound. As the paramedics wheeled out Sam began to run out behind them. John hooked an arm around his waist and held him back, letting his lanky legs swing. "You have to save him! He's my brother!"