This one is a slightly AU coda to 13x12 "Various and Sundry Villains" Sam really got hit over the head too many times in S13

20. Concussion

Dean groaned as he lowered himself into the Impala. His left knee was shot, but at least he didn't need it for driving. If he'd said it once, he would say it again: he freaking hated witches.

It was even worse when they cast a love spell on him and then proceeded to try and beat him and Sam to death.

Sam grunted as he slumped in the passenger seat too, wincing, and holding his side.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

Sam grunted again, his other hand going to his head. "Yeah. I don't think any ribs are busted, but she clocked me a couple times pretty good."

"How's your head?" Dean asked, noticing the way Sam was squinting his eyes like when he had a headache. He'd taken a couple heavy hits and falls in the fight, and Dean had also knocked him out earlier that day when he'd been under the influence of the spell.

"Think I'm fine," Sam told him tiredly.

"Because you've gotten hit over the head a lot lately," Dean continued.

Sam sighed and winced as he prodded what was probably a lump under his hair. "Let's just go home."

Dean nodded in agreement and started the car. He couldn't wait to ice up his knee.

They were only a little way down the road when Dean noticed Sam shifting uncomfortably. He had pressed his hand over his eyes as if to shield them from the sun and was leaning pretty heavily against the door. Dean watched him for a while out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he should make the first move, when Sam's hand suddenly shot out and pawed at Dean's arm.

"Dean, pull over," he said weakly.

Dean didn't ask, just pulled onto the shoulder. Before he stopped the car, Sam was already opening the door and leaning out, retching.

"Sammy!" Dean called worriedly as he scooted across the seat to grab Sam before he took a face plant onto the ground, wrapping one arm firmly around his chest.

"M'okay," Sam slurred unconvincingly, before his stomach heaved again.

"It's okay, buddy, just get it out," Dean told him. Sam finally felt like a dead weight in his grip and Dean eased him fully back into the car, reaching into the back for a water bottle and grabbing some napkins out of the glove box. He wet one and handed it to Sam but his brother didn't seem to be able to grab it so Dean wiped his mouth for him.

"Sorry," Sam murmured.

"It's okay, Sammy, but I think you got a concussion after all," Dean said worriedly and reached out to pry one of Sam's eyelids open to check his pupils. Sam groaned and jerked away clumsily.

"Yeah, probably," Sam said.

Dean huffed and shook his head as he opened the water bottle and held it while Sam drank. "Dude, you have got to stop getting hit over the head." He capped the bottle and placed it next to Sam's hip before he reached across him and closed the door.

He patted Sam's knee as he settled back behind the wheel. "Not much farther now. Just stay awake for me until we get home."

Sam nodded and leaned back against the window as Dean began to drive again.

He kept an eye on Sam all the way home, and thankfully the younger hunter didn't need to vomit again until they pulled into the garage and Dean tried to help him out of the car. The sudden change in position must have made him nauseous and he just barely missed Dean's shoes.

"Sorry," he murmured.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'll clean it up later. Let's just get you in bed."

He cringed as he had to support most of Sam's weight while his injured knee screamed at him. He didn't know why they had to have so many freaking stairs in this place, but he finally got down them and into the bunker and dragged his giant little brother toward his room.

They both breathed a sigh of relief as Dean lowered him into his bed, and started to pull Sam's shoes off as Sam struggled with his jacket and flannel. Dean took over and checked Sam's other injuries while he was at it. There were a couple nasty bruises on his ribs that were going to hurt like a bitch, but there wasn't much he could do about that. His fingers prodded the lump of Sam's head too, causing his brother to groan, but he was satisfied that he didn't have a cracked skull or anything.

"Okay," Dean said as he limped away to grab some pain meds for both of them and a glass of water for Sam. He shook out the pills and gave them to his brother, holding the glass for him as he took the pills. "Drink up," he told him.

Sam nodded and swallowed the pills, then laid down with a sigh of relief.

Dean tugged his blanket free and draped it over the younger man. "Get some rest, kiddo. I'll make sure to wake you up every two hours."

Sam nodded, but was already mostly asleep.

Dean went to grab a few things; an ice pack for his knee, and a bucket for Sam. He knew his brother well enough to know that he always got nauseous when he was concussed, and it probably wouldn't be another hour before Sam was up and heaving up his guts again. Dean brought the stuff back to Sam's room and dragged his desk chair over to the bed. He sat down with a sigh of relief, wincing as he propped his leg up on the bed and put the ice pack on his knee. Then he settled in to watch over his brother. Everything else was just going to have to wait until Sam was back on his feet.