I don't own supernatural.

Dean sat on the x-ray table, well away from the area where his picture had been taken. Sam stayed on the other side of the room. The two stayed silent, each contemplating what they could tell Dr. Taylor when she emerged from the dark room. Dean tried to stifle a cough, but it beat itself out of him.

"Here." Sam crossed the room to hand his brother a handkerchief. "Haven't used it. Swear."

Dean hesitated a moment before accepting and wiped his mouth and shirt sleeve as free as blood drops as he could. He tried to keep the red out of Sam's sight, but he had no doubt his brother knew.

A beeping inside the developing room drew the boys' attention. The door swung open and Dr. Taylor used her foot to slam it shut behind her.

"Okey dokey. Let's see what we got." She slapped the picture on the light display and squinted at the glowing bones. Sam and Dean joined her, peering over her smaller shoulders to get a look at the picture. "Well, I can see your problem."

"Is it broken?" Sam leaned closer to try and see better.

"Hold your horses. Not lookin' at that yet. What I can plainly see is that your bones are weaker than they should be. All that darker area should be a nice white like these areas here." She gestured as she spoke.

"Didn't drink enough mild when I was younger." Dean's lips twitched, but he couldn't exactly call it a joke.

"That's a pretty thin cover." She suddenly jabbed at the picture. "Here."

"What is it?"

"See this?" She ran her hand along an almost invisible ridge just below the elbow joint. "That would be the fracture. Good thing there hasn't been any movement and only the ulna broke, otherwise I'd have to cut you open. That wouldn't have been pretty." She started bustling, collecting supplies from all over the room.

"What are you going to do?"

"Make you a cast. 'Course, I only have animal supplies. Because I'm a vet." She shot a stare at Dean.

"You're really not going to drop that."

"Nope. Just like I'm not buying your milk story."

"Hey, I—"

"He has cancer." Sam blurted it before Dean could try for a better excuse. "Found out almost two months ago."

Months. Dean had tried to avoid thinking about time. He'd forgotten how quickly it was running out. "Sam," he warned harshly.

"He refused treatment and we don't exactly have a good record with the hospital he was diagnosed at. We're worried they would know about our little disappearing act and try to drag us back. He doesn't. . . We don't have that kind of time."

"So what are you spending your time doing? Being vigilantes?" Dr. Tayler raised an eyebrow as she tore pieces of medical tape off with her teeth.

"Something like that." Sam chanced a glance at Dean and was met by a cold stare. "What?"

"We tellin' everyone our story now?"

"She knew something was up. Lying wasn't going to get us anywhere."

Both of Dr. Taylor's eyebrows raised now but she stayed silent.

"This is family business, Sam."

"No, Dean. You just say it is because you want to push everyone away. But you don't want to die, I know that. You just keep trying to act all uncaring around other people."

"Sam." Dean's teeth were visibly grating.

"I'm not going to ignore the problem anymore. I've kept quiet for way too long. And you can't ignore it either. I mean, the reason we are here is because you tried to do something on your own when you can't anymore."

"What are you saying?"

"Have you looked at yourself? You are half the person you used to be. You're wasting away. If you want help you need to get it sooner rather than later and stop pretending you don't care."

Dean clenched his jaw. He knew Sam was right. He kept saying he didn't want to die, but he ended up pulling back. Why have hope?

"Let someone help you. Let me help you."

"Or me." Dr. Taylor lightly interrupted before the argument could get more heated. "I don't need to know the specifics of what's been going on to get the idea. And you two can feel free to argue it out later. Right now we need to get that arm stable so you two can go on saving lives or whatever the Hell it was you were doing. Now sit back down on that table." Dean complied. "This will probably be a little less than comfortable, but it will suffice."

"Right, right, you only have animal crap."

"You're catching on." She brought out a weird blue splint, bowl shaped at one end and extending straight out. She gently placed his elbow in the bowl so his arm sat in the concave straight. It was a little long and she marked the spot with a marker. "Alright, lumberjack. You've got to help me cut this. I'm frail and weak."

"I don't believe that for a second," Sam chuckled lightly. He grabbed the cable cutters Dr. Taylor pointed to and quickly snipped the splint at the mark.

"Good thing I still have these Great Dane splints. Don't usually keep a lot of them around." She went back to Dean and remeasured. "Good job. Now come over here. I'm going to need all hands on deck. Hold this on. Gently. Like you actually like him."

Dean rolled his eyes. He would much rather have patched himself up.

"Do you want the purple with the blue paw prints or the pink with the green fish?"

"Paw prints, by all means." Dean sighed as she started wrapping his arm first in gauze, then in the patterned ace bandage material. Sam held his arm with as much determined concentration Dean had shown when they were kids and Dean patched up Sam.

"Now don't get this wet. And don't take it off. It's not a cast, but it should do the job. Hopefully. I'm a v—."

"Vet not a doctor, yeah yeah."

She shot a glare at Dean and he shut up. "No heavy lifting, no fighting, no running, no jumping. No vigilante-ing."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"You heard me. Take a break." She paused a second as she taped the bandage down securely. "Your lumberjack here is right. You look like you've been through Hell."

"You should see the other guy."

Dr. Taylor's eyes narrowed. "You teach him a lesson?"

"Uh, not exactly me, but he won't be bothering anyone else."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't push. "I'm sure I'll learn about it in the paper." She patted him lightly on the head. "What a good patient you are. Now I want you to stop as soon as you can and get a sling for that arm. Still as Lake Placid, you hear?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good. Now I'm going to ignore the fact I heard you boys' names and if you get caught you don't know mine. I don't need another strike on my record. I once released a lab full of dogs, rats, mice, and monkeys in downtown New York." She explained at the brother's quizzical expressions. "I used to be quite the rebel in my day."

"And on that note, I think we'd better get out of your hair."

"No offense," she said as she started to tidy up the exam room. "But next time you need a midnight emergency vet, bark up someone else's tree. I need my beauty sleep."

Dean looked at his colorful bandage. "Thanks, Doc."

"You boys be careful doing whatever it is you do. I'm sure you can show yourselves out." A pause. "Hope everything works out."

Sam thanked her before leading the way. Sam pulled up short at the register and pulled the money he had out and put it on the counter. His head cocked to one side and he half smirked. Wordlessly he pointed to the top of a filing cabinet. An angel sat on top cradling a cat with a dog at its feet.

"Come on, Sammy, I've had enough of angels for the day."

Hey all you lovely folks,

Hope you don't mind I didn't go into terrible detail about the splinting and what not. I know how to do it but describing it is a bit tedious. Also hope Dr. Taylor was ok for everyone. I may be biased, but I really like her and her snarky ways.

Thanks for all the reading and review, keep it up!

Peace Love and Diet Coke to all,

~abrokencastiel