We all seem to love a bit of hurt Dean, eh? I still have more ideas floating around in my head. This might even turn in to a proper story... Reviews makes me smile and makes my fingers want to type.

I also own nothing... well I own the over-caring receptionist but she's not even close to being as cool and funky as Sam and Dean.

Sam walked towards the door, surely they couldn't be here to kick them out, surely Deans shouting had not been that loud. He opened the door and looked down at the receptionist from earlier. She was stood balancing a bunch of towels on one arm and a brown bag in the other.
"Do you mind...? Kinda close to dropping them here..." She nodded towards the towels.
"Oh! Uh.. yea.. thanks... I guess..." Sam grabbed the towels from her.

"Look I don't mean to pry or anything but both you and your brother looked pretty bashed up and whenever that happens to me and my siblings we always go through so many towels so I figured maybe you'd need some more... oh... and this is just some left over soup from dinner before... because you know... it's late and no real place open for food now so... sorry... i tend to over do things... people always tell me I care too much... and now i'm talking too much as well! Here just take this!" She handed the brown bag over to Sam and started to walk away.
"Oh.. and there's some pie in there as well.. figured it's better that you guys have it than the rubbish bin... anyways... g'night!" She was gone in a swirl of blonde hair and haste before Sam had a second to progress and thank her. He closed the door again and put the bag down on the kitchen table, bit of a puzzled look on his face.

He shrugged and taking one of the clean towels, running it under a bit of hot water he moved over to Dean again and started to wipe off the smudges of dirt mixed up with blood from his face. He didn't like the paleness of his brothers skin or the thin layer of sweat that was starting to form all over his body. It could only mean one thing. Fever. So either it was infected wounds (great!) or it was the cold that he knew that Dean had been trying to hide from him for over a week now.
Dean started to stir a bit and Sam sighed preparing for yet another arm-swatting war.
"What the hell?"
"Dean, relax, it's just me alright. Big baddie monster got you pretty good, just need to clean up." Sam kept going, following his brothers head around with the towel as he tried to turn away.
"Just stay still bro, it'll be so much easier..." He swiftly avoided one of the many hands trying to shoo him away.
"Get. Off. Me. " Deans voice was low in his throat and it would've sounded so much more threatening if it wasn't for the fact that he ended it with a long hacking cough. Rolling over to his side Sam tried to follow but got momentarily stunned by the look of his brothers back.
"Dammit Dean! Why didn't you tell me that it was that bad!" The sheets had red stains on them coming from a deep gash going from Deans lower back up all the way to his neck.
" 'Cus I knew you would be a bitch about it!"
"What?"
"It's nothing Sammy, I just wanna sleep ok."
Yea, no wonder! You're loosing a lot of blood, you idiot!" Sam pressed the damp towel against Deans back without any warning and was rewarded with a kick in his direction, only inches away from actually hitting him.
"Dean I swear to God, if you try to do that again I'll have you pinned against the wall so that I can finish this in peace." It was no use though, threats did nothing to his brother and he knew it, partly because there was no way he would actually drag him out of bed risking to hurt him even more and partly because really, dragging Dean Winchester out of bed even this hurt would be too much of an effort to even be worth it.
But Sam's patience was starting to slowly drip away when he had to avoid the third kick and forth swat that his brother was aiming a him accompanied by the millionth "I'm fine, get off me!"

When Deans arm once again swatted at him he lost it, grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled it up in a death grip. There was no way Dean was getting out of that. He pulled up just a little harder than what was necessary to make his point and could just make out the muffled moan of pain.
"I can't believe I have to hold you down to help you out, you stupid stubborn jerk!" Sam finished the rest of the cleaning and bandaging one-handed, not letting go of his brothers arm until he was fixed and clean.

He stood up again and stretched, decided to take a quick shower before tending to his own cut on his arm and before once again going over Deans torn up body to make sure all was done.
"Get some rest, I'll be back in a bit." The grumpy mumble that sounded something like "bitch" and "pain in my ass" mixed with a whole lot of other profanities didn't really bother Sam too much as he walked over to the bathroom.

The hot water felt like bliss and he massaged his shoulders and stretched out as much as he could, letting muscles tense up and then relax, could feel the tiredness coming over him. He grabbed one of the clean towels and wrapped it around his waist before going out to the main room again to find some sweats. The first thing he noticed when he got out of the bathroom was Deans labored breathing but as he was gonna rush over and help he realized that his brother was actually asleep and the breathing was due to a blocked nose and the cold. So he left Dean be and started getting dressed and then he looked over his own arm. It wouldn't need stitches, it was just a long quite shallow cut. He bit down on his lip as he poured holy water over it, pushed through the pain again trying to switch the auto pilot on, and then used the last of the bandage they had to wrap it up.

"Dude... Really? You took my jeans off? You pervy little..." Deans hoarse accusation was interrupted by coughing and then a little muffled moan of pain.
"Hey! You're awake! How are you feeling? Need anything?" Sam hurried to Deans side and moved in close when his brother whispered something he could quite make out.
"Closer Sammy... Come closer..."
"What? What's wrong?"
"Come here..."
Sam leaned in close only to receive a smack on the back of his head.
"Ouch! Jerk!"
"That's for undressing me, bitch! Stay off the goods! And for holding me down!" Dean coughed again and rolled over to his side.
Sam walked over to the table and sat down whilst mumbling about ungratefulness. He pulled a warm plastic container out of the brown bag and opened it, the smell of food filling the room in a pleasant, calming way. His brother turned over towards him with one eye open.
"Pie?" he croaked, hope in his voice.
"Not for you."
"Awww Sammy please..."
"It's Sam. And nope!" Sam slurped the soup extra loud.
"Pretty please?"
"Only if you promise to not be such a baby when i re-dress your wounds tomorrow."
"Yup! I promise! Anything for pie!"
"And if you take some aspirin as well, I can tell you have a fever, jerk."
Dean muttered and struggled to finally sit up leaning towards the headboard posture slightly awkward due to his messed up back.
"Fine." Sam sighed, half relief and half annoyance and pulled the piece of pie out and handed it to Dean on one of the little paper plates that were also packed in to the little bag. Overly thoughtful? Maybe. But still pretty damn great. He grabbed two pills out of his bag and handed them with a glass of water over as well.
"I'm only taking these 'cus of the pie.. i feel fine, Sammy" Never mind that it took Dean four tries to get that sentence out being interrupted by coughing fits and his voice breaking.
"mmmhmmm.. you're fine." It was gonna be a long night.

TBC?