This one is set during probably Season 1. Thanks again to all my guest reviewers!
27. "I can't walk"
Dean picked himself up from the ground, shaking his head to clear it. Rawheads were usually vicious, pretty animalistic, but this one seemed to have a particular beef against hunters. It had come after them with a freaking baseball bat. As if it wasn't enough that they'd had to chase it deep into the forest, it hadn't stood still for them to gank. At least this time, Dean hadn't been standing in a puddle of water when he'd tazed the thing to death—he did not want a repeat of that.
That hadn't stopped the rawhead from flinging him into a tree, though, which had not been fun. But it was dead now, and that was all that mattered.
Dean groaned as he straightened and stared at the steaming corpse.
"Well, another job done," he muttered as he turned to Sam who was still on the ground, looking like he was trying to pick himself up and failing. Dean instantly went on alert. "Sammy?"
His younger brother cringed and grabbed onto a large rock, using it to haul himself to his feet. However, the instant he straightened up, he instantly cried out and collapsed back on the ground.
"Sam!" Dean was already hurrying toward his brother, crouching to grip his shoulder. "What's wrong? Where are you hurt?"
Sam winced, his hand clutching his lower leg. "It caught me with the bat pretty bad after it got me on the ground."
Dean was already pulling up Sam's jeans and loosening his shoe to check out the injured area. He hissed as he saw the obvious swelling in Sam's ankle. His shoe and sock were both tight but Dean slipped them off as carefully as he could and probed the area. Sam cried out in agony, his whole body tense.
"Looks broken," Dean said grimly, running a hand over his face. And they were hell and gone from the road where he had left the Impala.
Sam gritted his teeth as Dean stood up and reached back down for him. "You think you can stand?"
"I'll try," Sam said breathlessly. He grabbed Dean's hands and Dean hauled his little brother into a standing position. Sam paled instantly, looking like he was going to be sick. Dean wrapped Sam's arm around his shoulders and his own around his brother's waist to support him, but Sam couldn't even put pressure on his leg to stand, let alone take a step. The first step Dean tried, he found himself bearing his brother's entire weight while Sam nearly passed out from the pain.
"Hey, you good?" he said worriedly, as he gently eased his brother back against the rock. "Take a moment to get your breath."
Sam shook his head, breathing heavily. "Dean, I…I can't walk."
Dean crouched down in front of him again. "Sammy, come on we got to get out of here and get you taken care of."
But Sam shook his head again. "No, just go and bring help back."
Dean glowered at him. "I sure as hell am not leaving you out here alone, unable to run. What if there was something else out here besides that rawhead?"
Sam let out a deep breath. "But, Dean, how am I supposed to get out of here? I told you, I can't walk!"
"Okay," Dean shrugged. "Then I'll carry you."
Sam's eyes blew wide. "What? Are you serious? Dean, come on…"
"No, you come on," Dean told him firmly. "No arguments. You can't walk, I'll carry you."
"I'm not a kid anymore, Dean," Sam protested.
"Yeah, and my back's gonna be reminding me of that tomorrow, but I'm getting you out of here, little brother."
Sam sighed and seemed to give in then, some relief washing over him. Dean knew he didn't really want to be left out there alone with a gimp leg.
"Okay," he said softly.
"Okay," Dean repeated and helped Sam up for just a second. "You're gonna have to help me a little though."
Sam nodded and Dean turned his back to him and crouched. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders and kicked off the ground with his good foot as Dean staggered into an upright position. He grunted, and it took a moment to get Sam settled comfortably, but even though he was a hell of a lot heavier, a piggyback ride was just the same as it had been when they were younger. And it would be a lot more comfortable for Sam than being draped over his shoulders in a fireman's carry the whole way back.
"You good?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, you?" Sam replied.
Dean grunted. "I'll make it. Just hold on and don't go dead weight on me, or I might drop you."
Sam huffed a laugh against the back of his head and held on tighter.
It wasn't an easy trip back, and Dean didn't want to take a break, for fear he wouldn't be able to get Sam onto his back again, but eventually, they made it back to the place they'd left the Impala and then it just took a little maneuvering to get Sam into the car.
"Alright, let's get you to the hospital so we can get that ankle taken care of," Dean told him.
Sam let out an exhausted sigh as he leaned back in the seat. "Thanks, Dean," he said.
Dean smiled, ignoring the muscle strain in his back that was only going to be worse the next day. "Hey, just 'cause you're bigger than me doesn't mean I can't still carry my little brother. I'll always carry you, Sammy."
He thought he caught some wetness in Sam's eyes as his younger brother nodded. "I know," he said with a certainty that warmed Dean's heart. He started the car, and sped off to the nearest town to get Sam taken care of.