"Sam? Holy shit, Sam. That is you."
The familiar growl was like a soothing balm for Sam's aching head. He felt the rough bag lifted from his head, and he was blinded again by the bright lights in the room. He shaded his eyes and tried to focus on the figure in front of him. Could it really be him? Sam wanted to cry in relief but he was too dehydrated to produce tears.
"Dean." It wasn't so much a word as a guttural croak.
"Oh, God, Sam. What have they done to you?"
Sam felt familiar hands lift him from the floor and mostly carry him across the room. When his knees hit a bed, he sat then lay down into its comforting softness. He felt Dean move away from him and he tried to cry out again after his brother but this croak was even quieter than the first one.
"Shh, Sam. It's okay. I'm here," Dean reassured him as he returned, and held a cup to Sam's lips. "Drink up, Sam. Whoa! Not too fast."
Sam gulped gratefully at the water but was barely able to swallow and much of the fluid ran down the front of his filthy shirt.
"Small sips, Sam. Just hold a little in your mouth then swallow." Dean took charge of the cup, giving Sam tiny portions at a time. "Shit, Sam. What the fuck? How long have you been here?"
Sam attempted to croak out an answer but immediately started coughing.
"Never mind. We'll talk later. Right now, drink. Then we're gonna get you in the shower. You reek, dude."
Sam looked around the room, seeing more of it as his eyes adjusted to the light. His new surroundings included a comfortable - oh so comfortable! - bed, couches, a table and chairs, and what looked like a bathroom through a side door. He had so many questions - about Dean, about the change in accommodations - but he was so glad to be here on this soft bed, with his brother and water, that he decided that all that was a problem for future Sam.
With some concerted effort on his and Dean's part, Sam managed to drink a large glass of water, and then a small amount of what tasted like some sort of sports drink. He lay back on the pillows, closed his eyes, and started to doze off until Dean grabbed him and shook him awake.
"C'mon, Sleeping Beauty. You can get some rest very soon, but I'm not letting you stink up our only sheets. You're having that shower if I have to hold you up myself."
Sam groaned and attempted to bury himself in the pillows, but he was no match for his older brother in his weakened state, and Dean easily hauled him off the bed and through the door to the bathroom. Dean sat Sam on the toilet seat as he got the water running at a good temperature, then took over undressing Sam as the younger man fumbled uselessly at his buttons.
Once Sam was naked, Dean stripped off his own clothes.
"If I've got to hold you up, I'm not getting my stuff soaked," he replied to Sam's shocked expression. "It's not like you've never seen me naked before, Sam."
Too exhausted to argue, Sam let himself be led into the warm spray. Dean propped him against a wall and proceeded to hose him down with the handheld shower head. He then shampooed and scrubbed Sam the same way he had when they were younger and Sam was completely exhausted by a hunt, but too covered in blood or goo of some kind to go to bed without cleaning up. Sam relaxed into his older brother's ministrations, nearly falling asleep again under the soothing heat of the water and Dean's hands until Dean squeezed some soap into his palm.
"You're gonna have to wash downstairs yourself," he instructed.
Once he was clean and dry, Dean helped Sam into a pair of pyjama bottoms, made him drink some more water, and tucked him into the soft bed.
"Dean, how..." Sam started to ask, but his brother shushed him.
"Sleep now, Baby Bro. We'll talk in the morning."