Disclaimer: Oh God, again?! No!

A/N: Sorry folks, couldn't do it last night. I got a head cold, and just didn't have the energy to think up a new one shot at my parents last night-- though I'm glad you enjoyed the Fireman one! Thankfully now, I'm at my own place tonight, and so can start digging into my reserve. Speaking of which-- this one shot. It's also kind of another first. I've never writen a tag without A) Being asked to, or B) Waiting many, many months after the episode aired. Though after watching 'Bad Day at Black Rock', I had to write this (though posted well after the episode aired, I did write this one shot the night I saw the episode). I, shamlessly, laughed when Sam was shot at the end of the episode, though did, again shamlessly, want more of the hurt/protect thing. So this came out-- enjoy, and review!

Title: Just Another Thing in Common
Genre: Is hurt Sam, and protective, worried Dean, a genre?
Summary: It's set just after 'Bad Day at Black Rock' as Dean helps Sam after he was shot by Bella.

Just Another Thing in Common

Sam had been in the bathroom for over five minutes, and if Dean wasn't still fuming over the forty-five grand he'd just lost he might have worried more. They'd arrived at the hotel at just past midnight after stopping off at a twenty-four hour drug store to pick up more medical supplies. Normally the Winchester's had enough in their car to help them through the bumps and bruises they'd get through hunting, but Sam had been shot, and Dean knew it called for slightly more serious care than a bruised rib or cut up arm.

"Sammy!" Dean called at the partially left open door, "I'm coming in on the count of three if you don't get your ass out here."

Sam was wincing as he walked into the main living area of the small room, and Dean couldn't help but frown. Sam had managed to take off his jacket and outer shirt, though still had on a once-was white undershirt which was now soaked in blood on the left side.

"Getting shot is seriously overrated," Sam groaned walking over to a table where Dean had set up the supplies.

"Tell me about it," Dean agreed, "I still have the scar from when you put a clip into me."

"A clip?" Sam laughed, "It was one bullet… and it wasn't even me."

"Whatever," Dean smirked and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels which he'd been saving and handed it to his brother, "Here-- swig this."

Sam eyed the bottle suspiciously, "Why?"

"Because this is going to hurt like hell," Dean again frowned as he examined the wound. "The bullet didn't go out the back, which means it's still somewhere inside you."

Sam sighed as he unscrewed the cap and took a long drink followed by a gag. He sat on the chair and let Dean cut away at the shirt surrounding the bullet hole.

"You know this is just like you," Dean spoke up with a hint of a laugh in his voice, "Ever since you were little you'd copy me."

Sam laughed and forced himself not to flinch as Dean worked, "Yeah… I guess."

Dean knew he was hurting his brother, so decided to talk as he cleaned away at the wound, "I remember. I couldn't have been more than ten when a shadow ghost knocked me across some random room-- it was the first time I'd broken my arm," Sam's eyes squeezed shut as Dean poured rubbing alcohol over his arm, "Week later you fell of your bike; busted your arm something good. You were happy though-- I remember in the hospital you were the happiest kid there when they said it was broken. You got yourself a cast just like mine."

Sam nodded through the pain, "I remember. Dad-- Dad stopped hunting for almost two weeks to make sure we were ok."

"Yeah," Dean smiled at the fond memory, "It was some of the best weeks I can remember… you know-- aside from the broken arm and the pain in the ass little brother who insisted on wanting to play cast wars."

Sam laughed.

Dean looked at the cleaned area, blood still sliding down the wet arm. He knew what came next, and from his own experience, he knew it was going to hurt Sam a lot. Dean wasn't sure who it would be worse for; Sam… or himself.

"How you doing man?" Dean took a deep breath.

Sam nodded, "Alright. Is it cleaned?"

"Yeah," Dean picked up a pair of sturdy tweezers, "Dude… this is going to hurt. I'm going to take it out now."

Sam took another swig of the Jack Daniels and took a deep breath, "Go for it."

Dean wordlessly nodded, and took his own deep breath before sticking the metal object into his brother. He tried to work quickly, but Sam's sudden hiss of pain caused Dean to flinch.

"Son of a bitch," Sam groaned, his eyes once again squeezed shut as he tightened every muscle in his body.

"Almost got it, almost got it," Dean whispered the reassurance as he felt blindly around for the object which was shot into Sam.

Sam's breath came in small gasps for the longest thirty seconds that he could remember going through. Finally he felt the bullet come out, and Dean's triumphant words broke the silence.

"Got it!" he clinked the bullet into a class of alcohol, "Sorry little brother-- Jo was way better at that than I am."

"No problem," Sam breathed taking another sip from the bottle.

Dean once again began to clean the area as he spoke, "So yeah… next time you want to copy me Sammy. Go for the looks."

"Shut up," Sam laughed as Dean patched up the area with clean gauze, "Are you done butchering my arm yet?"

"Yeah," Dean finished off, "You ok?"

Sam stood to his feet and slowly moved the hurt arm, "Yeah, I'm good."

Sam lay awkwardly that night in bed as he attempted to get some sleep. Dean let him know that they'd take a couple of days off to let Sam's arm get better. More for Dean's sake, Sam knew, as Dean had a habit of worrying incessantly about him. Sam, of course, had gotten used to it, though still had got frustrated after the fifth time asking if he was ok. The younger brother had never been shot before; something the elder had the pleasure of twice. It wasn't that bad, Sam smiled as he fell into a pain-pill induced sleep.

It was just another thing they had in common.

The End.