Just A Second

By:trishmahan

Disclaimer: They're not mine!

Today was definitely not Sam's day. He had only been awake for about two hours and already wanted to crawl back into the creaky motel bed.

The only diner in the town had run out of hot breakfast hash browns, the heater in the room had broken overnight, and his feet were cold from his shoes that had gotten wet as he had tried to dance around the puddles to get to the car this morning.

Sam didn't mean to complain, he really didn't. But he was in a crappy mood and it was just one of those days.

"Hurry up!" he called to Dean who had been occupying the freaking bathroom for an hour now, probably using up all of the hot water.

Sam heard the shower slow to a stop and a few minutes later, was greeted by a billow of warm steam as Dean emerged from the small bathroom, pulling on a shirt. Sam sighed as he took in the comfort of the steam and internally pouted as it slowly dwindled away.

"Hey" Sam tried wearily. "Good morning."

Dean grunted and simply pushed past Sam as he made a beeline towards his bag that rested on the bed.

Oh yeah. And Dean was still mad at him. Great.

Sam had to admit, yesterday's hunt hadn't really gone as planned. But it wasn't his fault he had gotten attacked by the stupid spirit damnit. A spirit that happened to throw things nonetheless. It wasn't Sam's fault that he had let his guard down for just a second and the spirit had chucked a freaking fire poker at him, managing to slice him in the side.

Sam grimaced as he thought about it now. He had slid painfully to the ground like a damsel in distress and suddenly Dean had been all over him, ducking from the spirit and at the same time, trying to help Sam get out of harm's way.

The spirit first, Sam had wanted to say, but found that his mouth was stuffed with cotton balls and that there were four Deans in front of him. Damn. The poker must have cut him deep.

He couldn't really remember much after that. He did start to relax when the bones had been burned and the loud noises around him had become quiet all of a sudden. But then Dean was there again, slapping his face and ordering him to stay awake.

Now that Sam thought about it, he hadn't been really hurt on a hunt in a while now. That's probably why Dean's hands were shaking as he stitched Sam up for hours and his voice wavered as he murmured soothing things to him. Words that Sam couldn't even remember now.

But then Dean was yelling, and Sam remembered that clearly because it had come forth so suddenly. One minute Dean was practically crying and now he was yelling on about how Sam had been so stupid and had nearly gotten himself killed.

"I can't believe you let yourself get distracted on a freaking hunt, Sam!" Dean had all but screeched into his face.

Dean had been scared. Really scared. And as always, as the adrenaline faded away, he turned his fear into anger and blamed Sam for nearly bleeding out on him. Which was true. He shouldn't have let his guard down in the middle of a gig.

Anyway, now Sam's day majorly sucked because he was cold and tired and Dean was still mad at him. And he couldn't even take a hot shower because his stitches were still fresh. And his side hurt.

Sam sighed and turned to Dean who still had his I'm-really-pissed-at-you-for-almost-dying-and-I'm-going-to-stay-mad-at-you-for-a-while face on and was furiously trying to stuff his extra shirts into the duffel while trying not to make eye contact with Sam at the same time.

"Listen Dean, I'm really sorry about yesterd-"

"Save it Sam." Dean interrupted. "Just don't do it again."

Sam felt a burst of anger suddenly pull through. Was Dean not even going to let him explain? He hadn't meant to-

"I just can't believe you let yourself loose like that man." Dean cut in as he slammed the duffel onto the bed and turned to look at him. "Ever since we were kids, the first thing Dad taught us about hunting was to always pay attention"

"I know Dean- it was just for a second."

"A second?" Dean let out a short laugh. "A freaking second can change the whole gig, Sam! Hell, you almost died because of 'just a second'"

Sam looked appalled. Anyone could have lost attention! Dean was just being unreasonable.

"You could've actually died, you could've gotten me killed, and you could've even caused the spirit to burn down the entire freaking house!" Dean ranted on.

Sam couldn't believe it. Sure, he understood that his brother had been scared, but Dean was taking this too far.

His face hardened. "You could've easily made the same mistake, Dean!"

"But I didn't. And have you realized that in the past few hunts, Sam, you've been doing the same thing that you did yesterday?"

Sam let out an exasperated sigh and plunked himself down on the nearest bed.

Dean proceeded on his tirade. "On the hunt two weeks ago, you forgot to load the gun! And then the Vamps we took on last month? You got yourself freaking captured by damn leader!"

Sam would've loved to point out all the other times that Dean had gotten himself captured, trapped, or hurt, but it didn't look like that was going to help.

"So what, I'm just not a worthy enough hunter in your eyes now?"

"NO SAM! You're missing the point." Dean yelled. "You need to get your act together so I can trust both of us to watch each other's backs instead of worrying about us getting killed every single damn time!"

Sam noticed his voice becoming rawer as both of them continued to shout at each other, hands waving and everything. His throat was sore, they were both clearly very irritated with each other, and damnit, his side really, really hurt.

Looking down, Sam saw blood seeping through his shirt from the stitches that were now loosening up. Crap. This was really not his day.

"You know what? I can't do this right now Sam. All I'm trying to do is keep my little brother safe and you just keep butting heads with me about it."

Sam closed his eyes in pain as the skin under his stitches started pulling harder.

I need Dean. I want Dean.

Sam's pain-filled eyes sought out his brother who was standing with his back to him, facing the door.

"Dea-"

Dean let out a long breath. "I'm gonna take a walk, Sam. Just get some water and calm down a bit" he advised calmly.

"Dean… please."

Sighing, Dean turned back towards his brother. "Wha-"

His gaze dropped to Sam who was now sliding off the bed clutching his side. His side that was sporting a quickly-growing crimson spot.

Dean drew in a sharp breath. "Oh god." He choked out as he scrambled towards Sam, catching him before he hit the floor.

"Sam?!"

Pulling his brother's head onto his lap, Dean's shaking hands peeled off the fabric over Sam's stitches.

The skin was swollen purple and seeping out blood. A lot of blood. When did the gash get so deep?

Putting pressure on the wound, Dean brought his eyes back to Sam's scrunched up face.

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey, look at me Sammy."

Sam cracked his eyes open and stared up at his big brother.

"You're gonna be okay Sammy. Just keep looking at me buddy, don't close your eyes."

Oh god, this was his entire fault. He had pushed Sam to his limits, and now Sam was even worse than he had been before. He couldn't lose Sam like this. He couldn't lose Sam ever.

Blinking rapidly to soothe his stinging eyes, Dean glanced at the wound again. It was bad. Bad enough that Dean wouldn't be able to patch it up on his own. With shaky breaths, Dean reached into his pockets for his phone and sobbed at the dispatcher to quickly send over help.

Sam was losing blood. Fast. And his breathing was becoming shallower. Dean cupped Sam's face with his free hand and told him that it would be alright. That big brother was right here Sammy. That he didn't have to worry because Dean would make sure that Sam got patched up right.

Sam only looked up with glazed eyes and whimpers, nodding every time his brother tried to console him.

He wanted to tell Dean that he would be okay, that they would be okay, that this wasn't Dean's fault. But he could only stare up at his brother and try to focus on his face, trying to keep it from disappearing into the grey dots that were closing in on his vision.

All of a sudden, within a second, Sam went limp in Dean's arms and stopped breathing. Dean shouted at him, with wide eyes, to wake up, to stay with him, and to just be okay- just as the paramedics burst into the room.

Dean looked up at them with piercing, teary eyes.

"Fix him."

TBC