Author's Note: Hi there! Only took me 36 chapters to put up a cover image, but I finally did it! Anyways, today's prompt comes from LEPrecon, who asked for, "During a hunt Sam sprains his ankle [this space in between have fun with it, you can have the witch or demon or whatever they're hunting attack him if you wish] then Dean has to pull it together and help his brother. Takes place after "Sex and Violence"." Thank you for this prompt! I really loved that episode so it was fun to write something about it. Please enjoy!

"A strangled smile fell from your face

It kills me that I hurt you this way."

—Lifehouse, "Whatever it Takes"

If there was one thing their father taught them about hunting, it was this. Never—under any circumstances—go hunting with a partner that you have unresolved issues. It will make you sloppy and it will distract you enough that you'll get either yourself or your partner killed. It was a good rule, probably the best that their father had taught them, but both boys had promptly ignored it. The incident with the siren had left them both a little shaken—the harsh words that they had exchanged had cut deep—and though they had claimed to be "okay" with each other, to an outsider, it was clear that this was not so.

"You idjits!" Bobby shouted into the phone. "You two just faced off with the siren a few days ago. Can't ya take a few days off?" The gruff hunter pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his chair.

"C'mon, Bobby," Dean scoffed, cocky façade fully in place. "We're fine."

"No, ya ain't!" Bobby replied sharply. "Look, just let this hunt go. I'll find someone else—"

"Bobby, Sam and I've got this. It's just a witch, right? That's easy." A soft voice spoke up in the background.

"That Sam? Let me talk to him." Sounds of shuffling filled the line until the littlest Winchester spoke.

"Hey, Bobby."

"Sam, you sure you two can handle this? You two only did research for what, a day?" There was long pause before Sam spoke. The older hunter frowned. "Sam?"

"It'll be fine," Sam assured him. "We'll call when we're done."

And the line went dead.

"Dammit." Bobby cursed softly.

"So, you two are the famous Winchesters?" The two brothers are standing in the middle of a graveyard. Under the light of the full moon, the witch smirks, her chestnut hair kissing her bare shoulder. It's a warm night and she's dressed in the skimpiest jeans Dean has ever seen—and he's seen a lot—and a midriff. Her cerulean eyes scan them both up and down. "Funny. I always thought you two would be . . . buffer."

"Well, you got us, sweetheart." Dean told her with a cocky grin. Beside him, he heard Sam load his gun. The witch sighed.

"It's a pity," She held her arms out, palms upward. Her eyes flashed an electric blue and the smile faded from Dean's lips. "You two would've been fun to toy with." Sam fired his gun first, yet with a swift move of her hand, the witch sent it back at him. The two brothers dodged.

"Plan?" Sam called.

"Stay alive!" Dean snapped; Sam chuckled dryly. The witch locked eyes with Dean and he felt himself being lifted up by an invisible force. The force tightened, like hands, around his neck, cutting off his oxygen.

"Die, hunter!" Black spots clouded his vision and then suddenly, he was on the ground, lungs heaving in precious oxygen. He glanced up to see the witch bleeding from the front of her shirt. Sam stood behind her, gun smoking. Coughing up blood, she shakily turned around. "W-why?" And then, with one last thrust of her hand, Sam went flying into a tombstone, his leg hitting it and sending him sprawling on the grass. The witch toppled to the ground, her eyes shutting for the last time.

"Sammy?" Dean managed to call, though his throat was on fire and his voice was rough. He could see Sam's still form and a wave of worry hit him. Sam wasn't moving.

Sam wasn't moving. Dean couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

Shit.

"Sammy!" Dean was up now and ran to his brother's side. His ankle was clearly sprained and if they were lucky, it wasn't broken. Pressing a few fingers to Sam's neck, he waited.

There! It was faint, but it was still there. Sam stirred under Dean's touch and muddy hazel eyes soon stared upward at him. Dean smiled, sheer relief coursing through him because dammit, that had been too close.

"M'okay." Sam slurred as he pushed himself up. Dean scanned him with a careful eye, pleased to see that there didn't seem to be any visible injuries, besides Sam's ankle.

"Don't move," Dean ordered gently. "I think you sprained your ankle when that bitch threw you?" He flinched when Sam stifled a moan of pain as soon as Dean's hands barely moved the ankle. "What the hell were you thinking anyways?" Whenever he was worried, he chided Sam. It was just his way of dealing with feeling helpless. He turned that feeling to anger and let that feed him.

"I was saving you." Sam replied calmly.

"By taking on the witch by yourself? That was smart."

"She was choking you!" Sam exclaimed, wincing as he inadvertently jostled his ankle. "What did you want me to do? Let her kill you?"

"Sam—" Dean sighed because that wasn't what he meant. This always happened. He'd snap at Sam for doing something that he would've done in a heartbeat. But dammit, this was too close. He had almost lost his little brother twice in one week and all because of mistakes that he had made.

"No, screw you, Dean!" With that, Sam pushed himself up and would've fallen right back to the ground if his older brother's strong arms hadn't caught him. "Jesus." He moaned as Dean set him back down.

"Easy, easy," He soothed. "You sprained it pretty bad. We've gotta keep you off of it."

"The car isn't that far," Sam mumbled, attempting to push himself up again. "I can do this."

"Yeah, I know," Dean whispered. "Just let me help, okay?" He pulled his brother up and snaked an arm around his waist and held onto Sam's other arm that was draped across his shoulders. "Just take it easy." Together, they began to move back towards the car.

He should've let Sam do more research.

Looking at his sleeping brother—his ankle wrapped and propped up on 5 pillows—Dean frowned. Their father and Bobby had been right; Dean had rushed into this hunt and look where it had gotten him. He could've lost Sam tonight. If that witch had tossed him a little more to the left, Sam's skull would've cracked and it would've been game over.

Sam could've died and all because his older brother wanted to kill something in order to deal with his frustrations with the siren. The words Sam had hurled at him under the siren's influence had cut deep and all Dean had wanted was to forget that messed up hunt and take his anger out on something else. So, he had hurried Sam along and once Sam knew who the witch was, Dean had made the executive decision to charge in blindly without a plan.

"Screwed up." He mumbled as he took a swig of his beer.

Sure, in the end Sam was still alive, but Dean had still almost gotten him killed. Their father had been right; they couldn't hunt until they worked out their issues over the siren. If that meant enduring a chick-flick moment, then that was what Dean would do.

He had lost Sam once before on a night much like this one. He had cradled his brother's broken body and watched as the lights went out of his eyes. He had died that night too. Without Sam, he lost his purpose, his remaining family. Without Sam, he lost the only person that Dean could actually be himself with. The Dean Winchester the world saw was just a façade. Hell, even with Bobby, he still put some walls up. Only Sam had seen every aspect of Dean and knew him completely. Only Sam could make him angry in one moment and then dying of laughter in the next. Only Sam could make Dean smile. Cold Oak had served as a grim reminder of what could happen if Dean let his focus stray.

And after tonight, he sure as hell wouldn't let it happen again.

Resolved, Dean put his beer on the table, turned off the lights and climbed into his own bed. They still had their issues, but the eldest Winchester believed that they could work them out.

"Good night, Sammy."

Sam stirred, leaning towards his older brother's voice and Dean smiled.

Everything would be okay.

Author's Note: This turned into more guilty Dean-centric than I had intended but I loved it all the same. I hope you did too! Please review if you have a second!