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Dean had managed to get Sam to eat some food- it was the most disgusting oatmeal ever, but Sam seemed to not notice and really enjoyed the soft texture in his weakened state, especially because of the sore jaw he had been given by Dean.

Sam, directly after finishing his meal, began to feel like he was going to puke. Dean had started relaxing until Sam called him frantically and had him help Sam towards the toilet, losing the little nutritional value he had gained.

After returning his brother to the bed, Dean decided to forfeit his gingersnaps to Sam. "They say that ginger helps the stomach with any kinds of ailments they suffer," Dean had read off of his phone to Sam before giving him the cookies. He warmed them up in the microwave to make them soft and gooey, then Sam ate them with ease.

Sam was able to hold down the cookies until lunch, when he started to feel sick and Dean miraculously found a motion sickness patch in the first aid kit that kept his food down. He at that point began feeding Sam anything and everything he could get down before the motion sickness wore off so that Sam could get some food into his system.

And eventually, night came and they both rested tiredly, repeating their daily process for about two weeks before they needed to move to a new hotel, suspecting their fake identities to be revealed soon.

Two weeks later

"Oh, come on, Dean!" Sam objected as Dean picked up every bag that needed carrying out of the trunk towards their room in the new motel- the Armada. "It's been two weeks already!"

"Two weeks since you," Dean began to make a mental list. "Broke your leg in three places, sprained your other ankle, broke 8 ribs and cracked 5, broke your shoulder, arm, and hand, had an insane concussion, and got a ton of cuts and bruises?" He threw him a look.

Sam flared his jaw. "It wasn't that bad!"

"You're still wearing the braces and slings!"

Sam leaned defiantly against his crutch. "Not the brace for my sprained ankle."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Is your ankle still bruised?"

"It's.." Sam scrunched up his nose. "No, it's not still bruised."

"Really?" Dean said with mock-excitement. "Let's see, then!" He put down the two bags he was carrying and pulled up Sam's jeans just enough to reveal a light green tint to his ankle. "Mhmm, well I see how un-bruised your ankle is."

Dean continued carrying the two bags towards their room, laughing at Sam's threats to grab the bags from Dean and carry them himself. He watched his brother, who had become more steady on his crutch after two weeks of practice. The first day he used it, he had hit his head on the edge of the table in the hotel room, producing a more than swollen bump on the back of his head.

"Fine, at least let me get the door?"

Dean contemplated, and eventually tossed the key-card at Sam, who caught the key and grinned, unlocking the door and smiling, proud of his work. "See? I could've carried something."

"Yeah, but I don't like carrying you and our luggage."

"Hey!"

"Really, Sam, you could do to lose some weight," Dean winked, dropping the bags on the floor and shutting the door. "It wouldn't hurt to eat one burger and cut the fries."

Sam scoffed. "You should talk!"

"Excuse me? I am fit as a fiddle."

"I bet you couldn't do five chin-ups."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Says the guy with the broken arm, shoulder, and hand!"

"I could do it if it weren't-"

"Oh, I'm sure you could."

Sam shot him a look, but inside his eyes Dean could tell that he was laughing. And honestly, it was bleeding through into a smile on his lips. Dean knew that Sam could have carried one of the bags. After all, he was really improving with his injuries. Dean was just a little scared that once Sam could do things by himself and not need Dean any more.

Stupid, I know.. Dean thought to himself. But he's my brother. I can be stupid if I want to.

Thanks for everyone who reviewed! This is the last chapter, I hope you enjoyed the story!