Disclaimer: ok, making up a new one of these each day is harder than writing the fricken one shots... NO!

A/N: Hey loyal readers. Sorry, again, today is late-- no particular reason other than trying to get the end of this one shot right. It was a request one for a somewhat different ending to where Sam got the demon expelled from him in 'Born Under a Bad Sign'. Basically a lot more hurt Sam and worried Dean. So I began working on it, and was going to end it with the line of 'Dean you look like crap'-- or something like that. But then I realized that a lot happened from the time that they were laying on the floor to that point sitting. I wanted to do the angst and all that, but didn't feel like filling in a lot of dialog, so I ended this at a different point. I hope it's still ok, and I honored the request well! (i also had tons of fun writing bobby!)
A little note on the last one shot. Haha, some of you didn't enjoy it too much, and I totally get why. I was trying to let you know in a very subtle way that the Winchester family is still hunting (like at the end, Dean was going to Meg), and that Dean was a wild child. I guess I didn't do that great of a job. Haha, but thanks for the reviews for it anyways, and I hope this one shot is a little better...

Title: Angst
Genre: Hahaha-- the title kindda says what this is about...
Summary: Alright, dispite the cruddy name of the one shot (haha, sorry Windy Fontaine... I was going to change it, but decided to stick with the stupidity), this story is pretty good. Basically it's my little take on what would happen if instead of Sam just immediately waking up... he stayed down for the count.

Angst

"Ahh!" Dean watched from his vantage point as Sam arched in the air; the demon escaping through his mouth and disappearing through the fire place.

Sam fell to the ground hard; Bobby standing stunned at the turn of events; the hot iron still in his hand. For a moment Dean watched, fearing what would happen next. But Sam didn't move.

"Sammy?" the older brothers voice was hoarse as he slid closer, "Sammy!"

"Hey Sam," Bobby crouched down, "Sam, are you with us?"

"Bobby?" Dean looked pleadingly at the family friend, "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know," Bobby admitted placing a hand on Sam's shoulder, "But we don't know for sure what that demon did to Sam's body. You remember Meg--"

"No," Dean shook his head, moving frantically over to Sam; his body screaming in pain, "No way, not Sammy," Dean placed a hand on Sam's neck, "There's a pulse."

"Dean, that doesn't mean--" Bobby started.

"No!" Dean barked out again, "Go get some water, and-and a cloth or something Bobby. Go!"

Silently Bobby nodded and took off for the other room. Dean shifted Sam into a more comfortable position, and placed his hand on the side of his face. A purple welt was beginning to show from where Dean, himself, had smacked his demon possessed brother. He'd do anything to go back in time and not have touched him. What if it was Dean that pushed his brother over the line? What if was because he couldn't keep his temper that Sam Winchester died.

"I'm sorry Sammy," Dean whispered stroking a piece of stray hair from the young man's face, "I'm sorry I couldn't stop you from getting hurt."

"Tell him when he's awake," Bobby interrupted, "Here, wipe his face off with this."

Bobby handed Dean a small bottle and a cloth.

"What is it?" Dean questioned.

"It's holy water," Bobby explained, "If there's any traces of that son of a bitch in him, it'll get rid of it. If there isn't, the water might help him."

Dean soaked the cloth in the liquid and began to wipe down his brother's face. Sam remained motionless to the efforts.

"Here," Bobby spoke up after a moment and handed Dean an icepack, "Put this on your face. That sucker punch was a good one."

"But Sam--" Dean started to protest.

"He's not going anywhere," Bobby pointed out, "He's breathing and has a steady heart-beat. But he was also possessed for a good week, and added to whatever else that demon did, it had to of taken a toll on his body."

"Is he going to be ok?" Dean asked, looking down at his pale faced brother while holding the icepack to his own tender face.

Bobby thought about this. He'd known John Winchester for nearly twenty years-- they'd met at a diner late one night and discussed the local legends. One thing lead to another and soon Bobby Singer was a valued friend and hunter. It was never his way to sideline the truth or beat around the bush, and as he looked down at his dear departed friend's son, he wasn't sure how badly the demon hurt him.

"I'm not sure," Bobby finally admitted, "If he doesn't pull around soon, we'll take him to a friend of mines; Pack."

"Who's Pack?"

"A doctor," Bobby explained, taking over Dean's previous job of soaking the youngest Winchester's face with cool water, "One that specialized in these types of cases. No questions asked."

Dean nodded silently, and prayed that it wouldn't come to that. Silence enveloped the three for what seemed like hours, but which was not even five minutes.

"Bobby, he's not waking up," Dean whispered out; fear lacing his voice.

"Yeah," Bobby nodded in acknowledgement, "I'll go call Pack."

Dean nodded and looked his brother in the face, "Come on Sammy, don't do this. Not after everything that bitch did to you, don't do this."

For the first time since the youngest brother collapsed to the floor, he started to show signs of consciousness as Sam shifted slightly, and a low mumble escaped his lips.

"Bobby!" Dean shouted, "Bobby, he's waking up!"

The process of coming to a conscious state happened rapidly as a few seconds after the inaudible mumble Sam gasped awake and Bobby was standing, eyes wide in the entrance of the room.

"Sammy--" Dean reached a hand out.

"Dean, wait, wait!" Bobby commanded, "Just wait."

"Wha- why?" Dean stuttered, looking at the fear filled and confused eyes of his baby brother.

"We have to be sure," Bobby stated, looking at Sam and said in a clear voice, "Christo."

"Bobby?" Sam's voice cracked, "What's going on?"

"Sam," Dean placed a hand on Sam's leg, "Hey, are you ok?"

Sam was breathing hard as he looked at Dean; it took a moment to register what was happening, "Dean?"

Dean forced a smile on his swollen face, "Yeah, it's me."

"How are you feeling?" Bobby asked, "That Meg gave you quite a run for your money."

Sam nodded, "I'm ok I think."

"Good," Dean groaned as he got to his feet, "I wasn't quite ready to hand you over to some random named Pack."

Sam scrunched up his face to show his confusion and Bobby let out a low laugh.

"Come on Sammy," Dean reached his hand down, and slowly helped Sam to his feet, "Easy, easy…"

Once his little brother was to his feet, Dean grinned and clapped his shoulder affectionately with his good arm. It scared him every time his brothers life was in danger, this time being no different as the elder brother knew it would be some time before his heart rate went back to normal and the trembling he felt inside to go away.

"What happened to you Dean?!" Sam suddenly cried out, spotting the blood that had seeped through Dean's jacket, and the massive bruising that was starting to show on his face.

"Oh," Dean smirked, "Meg decided to beat the crap out of me using your muscles. You got quite a swing there Sammy."

Sam frowned, "Meg?"

"I think you two should sit down before you fall down," Bobby interjected as he watched the two hunters stand on less than sturdy legs.

"Yeah, come on Sam," Dean grabbed Sam from under the armpit to help him towards a chair.

"Dean--" Sam started as he followed his brother's lead.

"Shut up Sammy," Dean spoke softly, "You did nothing wrong."

Sam spoke his next words in a whisper he wasn't even sure his big brother heard, "Thank you Dean."

The End