Disclaimer: If I had a dollar for every stupid way I've figured out how to say no... well... I wouldn't have that much money. But it'd be pretty cool, huh?

A/N: This is what happens when I look and see someone took the time to review so many of my stories! I post another one! Thanks ChelseaWinchester!
Remember the times of Wendigos? Of Hook Men, and Bloody Mary? No? Well shame on you. Haha, okay, so todays story is one that I wrote SUCH A LONG TIME ago. I think it was the second or third story I ever wrote, and I did when I was writing 'What Ifs'. It's from the episode 'The Benders', which, in my opinion, is one of the best episodes ever done. It's a what if take on if Sam had been shot while the big show down in the barn happened.
Anyways, one more thing. I am not a proffessional writer, nore do I even claim to be a decent one most of the time. I do, however, know that through the process of writing so many stories, I've gotten slightly better. So keep that in mind as you read this; it is some of my old work. And so it is not the greatest in writing style, though should give you a nice fix of Supernatural. Well, enjoy!

Title: Of Love and Loyalty
Genre: Angst
Summary: Taking place just after the episode The Benders. What happens if Sam had been shot in the barn and tries to hide it as the two brothers walk down the highway?

Of Love And Loyalty

"How are you doing Dean?" Sam asked, his voice breaking the nearly fifteen minutes of silence.

"I'm ok," Dean still held onto his arm, supporting the injured shoulder, "How about you?"

Sam thought about this. It had seemed like an eternity ago that he was being held captive by the Bender's. An eternity ago that he saw his brother walk into the barn where himself and Kathleen were being kept; the relief so evident on his older brother's face. Just like an eternity since Dean had left the barn and one of the sons had come in to finish the job. Sam had known then that something happened to Dean, and the fight with the sons seemed like such a long time ago. An eternity since Sam felt the undeniable burning and piercing pain of a rouge bullet slicing through the back of his left arm.

The adrenaline of the whole thing caused the pain to last only seconds before the whereabouts of Dean had come into play. Dean was hurt bad and was showing it, and as they walked down the road after Kathleen's warning of the FBI and police soon coming, Sam had nearly forgotten about his own injuries. It wasn't that he thought Dean's were worse. It was that Sam also knew that Dean was hurting inside; the fear of not knowing where Sam was had scared the older man more than Sam could ever remember seeing.

And it was for these reasons that Sam was reluctant to reveal how bad he was truly hurt.

"I'm-" Sam swallowed hard, "-I'll be alright."

"We'll be there in about an hour," Dean stated looking around at the deserted highway, "Then we can get the car and get some food and water into you."

"Don't worry about that," Sam shook his head; startled to find his world swimming in dizziness as he did so, "We need to get you to a hospital."

"Me?" Dean chuckled, "Naw, I'll be fine, and the police will be looking for us. Son of a bitch ruined my good jacket though."

"Dean please-" Sam felt queasy to his stomach as he looked at the horizon; the sun slowly peeking up.

"Sammy listen to me," Dean stopped and looked down at the ground, "You were gone man. Just disappeared like so many fricken other people have around here, only none of them were ever found again. Let me-" Dean cleared his throat, "Just let me play the big brother."

"Dean, you look like crap," Sam grinned, "I mean, I get you, I know-" Sam stopped in mid sentence, piercing pain shooting through his left arm and into his chest.

"Sam?" Dean looked over at his little brother, and gasped at the pale skin, and sweat beads forming on his forehead, "Sammy, what's wrong?"

"D-Dean," Sam stuttered, his vision blurring.

"Sammy!" Dean cried out, catching Sam just in time to help lower him to the ground; his shoulder screaming in pain as he did so.

"I'm sorry," Sam breathed.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Dean choked on his own words, but Sam didn't answer, "Sam!"

Dean moved his arm to let his little brother lay down more comfortably while still cradling his head in one arm. It was then that Dean noticed the blood coming from his little brother's arm.

"Oh God," Dean spoke to his now unconscious brother, "Sammy."

...

"Sammy, come on," Dean muttered, "I don't know why the hell you did this, but if you keep this up, I swear to God I'm going to beat you when you finally wake up."

The voice was tired and Sam's brain registered it as one of desperation; something that Dean rarely ever showed. He wondered briefly what was happening, but the pulsing in his arm quickly brought back the memories of the Bender's and the road.

Slowly Sam's eyes opened. A blanket was pulled up to his neck, and the dark and dirty ceiling let Sam know that he wasn't in a hospital, but rather a hotel or motel.

"How many fingers?" the sudden voice of Dean entered the young man's brain and three fingers were shoved in front of his face.

Sam studied the fingers for a moment; watching them wash in front of his blurred vision before answering tentatively, "T-Three?"

"Good," Dean's voice was gruff, "Can you sit up?"

Using his right arm, Sam slowly worked his way into a sitting position; Dean's supportive arm helping, and looked around. He was sitting inside a hotel room, and it was dark outside; the only light coming from that of a small end table lamp to his right. Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, his face was pale and he looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

"Dean?" Sam's eyes scrunched up to try and clear the images.

"You are a fricken liar Sammy," Dean's voice shook as he got to his feet and stared down at Sam.

"What-?" Sam was so confused and wished his brother would make some sort of sense.

"You lied," Sam was startled to see Dean close to tears, "You told me you weren't hurt. You said you were fine!"

"Dean, I-" Sam honestly didn't know what to say, and so was happy when Dean interrupted him.

"Sam we are in the middle of a town with people looking for us," Dean's voice was quiet, though it shook with a number of emotions, "I couldn't exactly bring you into a hospital with a fricken bullet wound, but I swear to God, I was this close to doing just that."

"I'm sorry," Sam's feeble apology came out, "I didn't mean to-"

"What?" Dean turned his back to Sam, "You just- forgot you got shot?"

"I was worried about you man!" Sam flung back the covers, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Let me worry about me," Dean spoke quietly, his back still to Sam.

"And I can worry about me," Sam stated.

"Yeah?" Dean swiveled around, his cheeks pink, "Bang up job there little brother! You passed out in the middle of a highway Sam! You had blood coming out of your arm, and when I got you back here, a fever of 103.2!"

"But you-" Sam felt his own lump form in his throat.

"I'll be fine Sammy," Dean's voice sounded desperate, "I just- I had no idea where the hell you were. Then those… god damn sons of a bitches said they were going to-"

Dean stopped and Sam watched as his older brother sat on the opposite bed, his face to the ground. Sam realized, watching his emotionally wrecked brother, that maybe hiding things from him wasn't the best option. Dean had been worried about Sam the whole time he was missing; scared he was hurt, or even dead. And then, after finding he was alive, and not hurt… only to find out that Sam had lied about the latter… Sam didn't want to think about it.

"I'm sorry," again Sam found himself apologizing, "It was a stupid thing to do."

Dean laughed and ran his hand over his face, "You're telling me," at this Dean took a deep breath and looked at Sam, "Are you going to be ok Sammy?"

Sam looked at his bare arm; a white bandage was wrapped around it tightly, and Sam could feel the rhythmic beating. He'd been hurt before, though never shot.

"What happened to the bullet?" Sam questioned.

"It went right through you," Dean frowned, "The thing caught only a bit of your arm. It was still bad though by the time I got you back here."

"Sorry-" Sam started to apologize again.

"Dude, quite with the apologizing thing," Dean rolled his eyes.

"I was-" Sam laughed and shook his head, "I was trying to protect you."

"I'm the older one," Dean smiled, "I do the protecting remember?"

"How come you get to do all the protecting?" Sam questioned with a grin on his face.

"Because Sammy," Dean stood up clapping his little brother's good shoulder affectionately, "This is what happens when you do."

The End.