Sorry for the delay! Big thanks, as always, to my intrepid editor hotshow, and on this chapter to chariskalos for some editing, suggestions, and that swift kick I needed to get this chapter done!

Chapter Thirty

Dean stood by anxiously as Doc Wayne and George set up all the stuff they needed for Sam. He memorized Doc Wayne's instructions as Sam blinked unfocused eyes from the hospital bed set up in the den. Sam's mouth opened a couple of times, as though he wanted to speak. The fact that Sam didn't was worrying.

Doc Wayne and George made arrangements to stay at Bobby's in shifts for a couple of days, to spell Dean and Bobby from caring for Sam full-time. It wasn't that Sam was hurt that bad, just that much. Sam had bruises over most of his body, several ribs and one thigh bruised right down to the bone. His brother couldn't even walk to the bathroom by himself right now. The fact that Sam still couldn't look anyone in the eye did not help matters.

Dean waited until the doctors left, with promises for George to return later, then sat by his brother's bed.

"Hey, Sam. Need anything?" he asked, anxious to do something. Sitting around waiting was not exactly his favorite pastime.

Sam groaned, head rolling from side to side. After a moment Sam stopped moving, sound asleep. The trip to Bobby's probably took a lot out of his little brother. Dean flipped through one of Bobby's books while he waited. Ugh. Did Bobby really read this stuff? It was nearly an hour before Sam moved again.

"Sam?" This was not the best time to do it, but Dean didn't think he could wait any longer. "You awake?"

Sam's eyes fluttered open. "Only because you won't shut up." He frowned at Dean. "What's wrong?"

Dean had to swallow hard to get past the lump in his throat. "I, uh, wanted to say that…you know. I'm…" He took a deep breath, let it out. "I'm sorry."

Sam's eyebrows drew together, creating the crease in his forehead that spelled confusion. "It got the best of us, Dean. If you were in the elevator with me, you'd just be beaten to hell too."

"Not that," Dean replied with a shake of his head. "Well, yeah, that too. I meant that I'm sorry for yelling at you. In the kitchen. I guess you were right."

Sam lifted one arm, a large black and purple bruise covering his forearm, to press his palm against his temple. "In the kitchen?" His eyes blinked slowly and deliberately. "You mean when we spotted the gremlin?" He stared at Dean for a long minute. "What was I right about? All I remember is you going on about, uh…" Sam's face scrunched in concentration. "About me thinking you're going to let me down." His face relaxed as his eyes opened. "Right?"

Dean nodded, avoiding direct eye contact. "Yeah. That."

"What about it?"

Dean dragged his eyes from the floor. Sam looked serious. "Are you kidding?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head slowly, probably not able to do it faster without too much pain. "No I'm not kidding. What was that about, Dean?" When he did not answer right away, Sam repeated, "Dean?"

He started this, so Dean supposed it was too late to play stupid or too emotionally repressed to say it. "That you were right," he said with a shrug, forcing himself to look at Sam. "You should assume that I'll let you down. I guess that's why you got me to make that promise."

Sam's mouth dropped open. "What?" Dean demanded. "Surprised I noticed?" He rubbed his hands against his jeans, they were leaking with sweat. "Eventually I let everybody down. I guess that's why everybody leaves, sooner or later."

Sam groaned. Dean jumped to his feet. "Sammy? What is it?"

"You!" Sam snapped. He glared at Dean. "I can't believe… Dean! Is that why you think I got you to make that promise? Because I think you can't save me?"

Did Sam really expect him to answer that?

"Dean, honestly, I'm not sure anyone can save me. But if anyone is capable of it, that person would be you, Dean." Sam pushed himself into a sitting position, grimacing. "You. That's why I wanted you to make that promise. Because there isn't anyone I trust more."

He felt heat creeping into his cheeks. "Lay down, Sam," Dean ordered, pushing his brother back into the bed. "You should rest."

"And I won't leave again," Sam muttered. "Not like that." Sam's chest expanded in a deep breath and his eyes closed slowly. "Promise. Never again."

Dean pushed the hair out of Sam's eyes. "I just might hold you to that one, little brother."

-

Sam pretended to sleep while Dean stood over him. So, that was what was really bothering his big brother, the promise. Well, okay, so maybe it should be the cause for some concern, but not to the point of making Dean change. Not like that. All he really wanted out of it was a safety net, a guarantee that he couldn't hurt anyone. Yeah, maybe that implied that Dean couldn't save him, but he really didn't think Dean would get that part. That's what he got for selling his brother short. Again.

He waited for Dean to leave the room, even if it was just to take a leak, but it didn't happen. Sam had no idea how long Dean stood there, just watching him pretend to sleep, but at some point he must have dropped off. When he opened his eyes it was dark outside and George held his wrist, checking his pulse.

"Where's my brother?" Sam asked.

George smiled at him. "In the kitchen getting something to eat. He'll be back out in a minute. It took both Bobby and Mike to get him out of here for a few minutes." George set his hand back down. "He'll probably be furious he wasn't here when you woke up."

Sam managed a grin. "Probably." Despite his best efforts not to, Sam found that he was watching the doorway for his big brother.

"He's been here all day, Sam. Besides," George blew out a large breath, "Mike is in there. You know what those two are like." George's eyes rolled expressively.

Sam chuckled. "Ow." He pressed a hand against his bruised ribcage. "God, how does Dean do it with broken ribs?"

"My guess?" George glanced around, as if Dean might pop out of a shadow. "Very carefully."

Sam chuckled again, the pain rocketing through his side, but at the moment he did not care.

"Thought I heard voices," Dean declared as he blew into the room, larger than life. Sam could not help but smile. "About time you woke up. I was ready to break out the ice water." Dean held up a bowl of chili. "Hungry?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded at his brother. "I am."

"Good." Dean jerked his head at George. "George'd love to get some for you."

"I can take a hint." George headed out the door. "Crackers?"

Sam nodded, thanking George with his eyes. "What's going on, Dean?" Dean lifted an eyebrow, chewing a mouthful of chili. "With the gremlin."

"Mmmm." Dean swallowed. "Bobby finished up in the yard about an hour ago."

"Finished?" Sam tried to push himself up into a sitting position. "What do you mean?"

"The thing. You know, the symbol." Sam stared at his brother. Maybe he did get hit on the head too hard this time. "Out of the cars, Sam." Dean waved a chili-spotted spoon toward the window.

"Oh, right. That symbol." Sam settled back into the pillows. "I don't suppose he mentioned why he picked one that complicated?"

Dean shook his head, digging in the chili with his spoon. "Nope, but he simplified it now. It was taking too long to build."

Sam wanted to make a sarcastic comment about why Bobby couldn't have done that before he wound up in the hospital, but he didn't. Everyone seemed to be getting along at the moment, why screw that up? So Sam just nodded.

"What's the plan?" he asked instead.

Dean shrugged. "We don't have one."

Sam stared at his brother. "So we're just going to sit around and wait for it to come after us again?"

"You," Dean pointed at Sam with a full spoon of chili, "are just going to sit around and wait inside, where it's safe. Bobby will come up with something."

"You seem pretty content to let other people do all the planning," Sam observed. Dean shrugged as another spoon of chili made its way into that bottomless cavern his brother called a mouth. Maybe that was the real reason Dean and Dad always got along, because Dean never questioned the man, always did exactly what Dad wanted, let Dad make all the plans. "What if we set it up?" Sam asked as an idea formed. "Choose exactly where and when we want to face it?"

"We?" The bowl of chili looked like it might go sailing into a wall. "What's this we? You are staying in that bed."

"Hang on, Dean," Sam held up a hand. "At least hear me out."

Dean leaned against the wall, glaring at him. He'd better make this good. "Well?" Dean demanded.

"I'm thinking," Sam said, waving to his brother to wait a moment. "Just give me a minute."

Dean snorted, the bowl of chili lowering for his brother to take another bite. "I have a line on a good helmet, by the way."

Sam sent a death-glare at his brother, which made Dean grin. "I can sit out in the yard, in the middle of the symbol. When the gremlin comes after me, you and Bobby can take it out." There, that wiped the smirk off his brother's face.

"No." Dean dug his spoon into the chili again.

"No what, Dean?" Bobby asked, carrying a bowl on a plate. Sam noticed a line of crackers arranged around the bowl. "You gonna help with this bed, or does Sam get to eat his chili through a straw?"

Dean scowled, but he set his bowl on a stack of nearby books. Sam anticipated the pain that would accompany the bed moving, but Dean was careful and smooth and the change in position actually felt better.

"I'm good," he said motioning for the bowl. The rich aroma of stewed meat made his mouth water. "You're not telling Doc Wayne I'm eating this, are you?"

"He said you can eat whatever you want, as long as the meds don't make you nauseous," Dean replied. "Besides, he won't have to clean up the mess, so it's kind of my call."

Sam grinned. "I guess that means I get whatever I want?"

"Knowing your brother," Bobby muttered, though his voice carried clearly through the room, "I'd say yes."

Sam's arm had a dull ache as he lifted a spoonful of the thick chili to his mouth. Not too spicy, not too hot, but definitely not bland either. Really good flavor. "Wow," he mumbled around his mouthful.

"Pretty good, huh?" Dean asked, his eyes sparkling. "It's Bobby's recipe."

"Speaking of Bobby," Sam glanced over, guilt creeping up again. "I kind of owe you an apology, for being a pain in the ass."

Dean snorted over his chili.

"Don't worry about it, Sam." Bobby smiled at him. "But," he raised a warning finger, "you ever act up in the ER again, I will put you over my knee no matter what that brother of yours says."

Sam felt the heat creep into his cheeks as his eyes dropped.

"Bobby…" It was the tone Dean used on Dad when Dad needed to be persuaded. It made that spot in his stomach lurch again. "Let's cut Sam some slack here. It's not like he…"

"Forget it, Dean," Bobby snapped. "Sam just made number two." Bobby spun on him. "And you better stay in that bed, hear me?"

Sam nodded, shocked. What the heck was that all about? He guessed it meant he needed to come up with a new plan for the gremlin before it found a way past Bobby's defenses.

"Good. Well, we have guests. I'll be back to check on you two in a bit." Bobby's heavy steps headed out of the room.

"Damn," Dean breathed. Sam dredged his eyes from Bobby's retreating back. "Sorry, Sam. I didn't see that one coming."

"Number two?" Sam asked, not comprehending. "On his hit list?"

"You wish," Dean replied with a heavy sigh. "It's his priority list."

"Huh?" Sam stared. Did his brother really look embarrassed?

Dean took a seat on the end of Sam's bed. He fidgeted, clearly agitated. "He means that if he thinks you're hurt and you won't own up, he'll back you into a corner and make you strip so he can check." Uncomfortable green-flecked eyes met his own.

"That…that…" Sam had no words. Not for this. Did Dean really expect him to allow something like that to happen? That sounded more like… "That sounds like Dad."

Dean nodded. "Where do you think he got the idea?"

Sam felt his eyes widen. "Dad did that? When? Where? And why would Bobby know about it when I didn't?"

Dean squirmed again. Sam wanted to press, but he knew that was the quickest way to get his brother to shut down. One hand reached up to rub at the back of Dean's neck.

"Because you were at school, and it happened right over there." Dean motioned to a corner of the room, his eyes dropping away.

"Huh." Sam relaxed back into his bed, a smile forming on his face.

"What?" Dean demanded, looking up. "Believe me, Sam, it's not a good thing."

"Sure it is," Sam replied, still smiling. "Because now I get it."

Now it was Dean's turn to be confused. "What are you talking about?"

"That's how Bobby got you to admit to the ribs when we first got here, right?" Sam asked, knowing he was right from Dean's brief reaction. "So now I get it."

"Get what, Sam?" Dean demanded.

Sam locked into his brother's gaze. "Why you would tell Bobby you were hurt instead of me. So where are you on this priority list?"

Dean shoveled in more chili, shrugging. Sam wondered if Bobby would tell him, since it was pretty clear they were both on his list. If Sam was number two, there was only one place for Dean, especially if Dean made it on the list before him. First. That was why Dean wouldn't tell him. "You're number one, aren't you?"

Sam grinned as Dean squirmed again. "You are!" He didn't know why it surprised him, but it did. It also explained an awful lot. His relief came out as a loud laugh, which ripped right down his side and stole his breath.

"Easy, Sammy, easy," Dean's voice penetrated the pain. "You can't just laugh like that, you know."

"You…do…" he huffed, trying to draw in air. Damn, this hurt!

"Yeah, well, I've had a lot more practice," Dean said, but his brother did not sound angry, just stating a fact. "Easy, you're going to spill your chili."

Sam forced himself to take slow, easy breaths. The pain lessened to the point he could open his eyes again. Dean hovered over him, hands on his shoulders holding him down. Sam took another breath, just to make sure. He nodded at his brother. "I'm okay now."

Dean glared for a moment before moving away with a nod. He picked up his bowl and resumed eating, even before his ass hit the end of Sam's bed.

Sam glanced down at his supper. He picked it up, slowly. They ate in silence for a while. George and Mike dropped in for an hour or so to keep him company. Before they left, Dean ran upstairs to grab a shower. George checked him over again while Dean was upstairs.

"You waited for Dean to leave?" Sam asked, incredulous, as George prodded his side yet again.

"Of course I did," George said in his good-natured voice. "Dean says you've been poked enough."

"So why are you…" Sam broke off to hiss through his teeth as George hit a particularly sensitive spot.

"Because I'd rather risk this than miss something more seriously wrong with you," George replied.

"You got that right," Mike said. "Dean'd kick your ass from here to the coast if you missed something with Sam."

"I know it," George replied. "That's why I asked you to come along." His cold fingers checked Sam's bruised arm.

Mike snorted from his position in the doorway. "You really think I'd stand between you and Dean?"

"Nope," George said. "I think you'd stand between Dean and somebody who didn't deserve the beating he was going to get."

Mike chuckled. "Yeah? Think again."

George's eyes flitted over to Mike before landing on Sam again. "He thinks that's funny."

Sam shook his head. "I'm not sure he was kidding, George."

Some of the color drained from George's face before Sam decided to let him off the hook. He exchanged a look with Mike as he grinned. "Relax, George. You act like Dean is an escaped mental patient or something."

George shrugged.

"Hey!" Dean barked as he rounded the corner into the room, wet hair plastered to his head. "I saw that."

George cringed, one hand whipping back to grab the sheet to cover Sam's legs again.

"Don't do that unless you're finished," Dean snapped, leaning against the entryway.

Sam watched, amused, as George shook his head. "I'm done."

"And?" Dean demanded. He might sound harsh, but Sam recognized that as his brother's worried voice.

"I didn't find anything new," George replied strongly.

"Good." Dean sounded much calmer this time. He strode forward to stand next to George. "Thanks for coming by."

All the tension flowed out of George's frame. "Sure. No problem."

After Dean escorted Mike and George to their car, apparently they had come together in the squad car, his brother came back to take his place in an easy chair next to Sam's bed.

"So. How are you feeling?" Dean asked, sounding casual, like Sam was laid up in a hospital bed in Bobby's den everyday. Now that was a disturbing thought.

"Better," Sam admitted. "You know," he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I still think you could scare Bobby. If you wanted to." Then he thought back to Bobby barreling up the stairs, searching for Dean. "Come to think of it, I think you did."

"What?" Dean looked puzzled, shifting in his chair, probably searching for a more comfortable position. "How could I scare Bobby?"

"When you went out the window. I don't think I've ever heard Bobby huff and puff like that before," Sam mused. "I'm pretty sure you scared him. You wouldn't have done that to Dad."

Dean's eyes sparkled. "Don't bet on that. Nobody ever ordered me to bed."

Sam suppressed his chuckle, not wanting his bruised ribs to make breathing impossible. "Don't tell me that you ever actually pulled something like that with Dad."

Dean smiled, resting back into the worn chair. "Well, now that I have a captive audience…" Sam grinned. He would worry about convincing Dean and Bobby of his plan to trap the gremlin later. Right now seemed like a good time to just be brothers.