A/N: Thanks to Annette for her beta job and keeping me true to the boys.

Rated T, I guess for a few bad words.

"S-Sammmy?" Dean Winchester struggled to open his eyes at the gentle touch on his forehead.

"Yeah, Dean, it's me. Just take it easy, big brother, I have to check you over before I move you."

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean struggled to focus on his brothers face above him. Dammit! He'd gotten his eyes open – why couldn't he see clearly? He started struggling to rise.

Sam shook his head. Even in his battered condition, Dean's first conscious thought was the wellbeing of his little brother.

"I'm fine, Dean, but you're not. Lie still!" Sam's voice was soft as he put his hand on Dean's chest to gently but firmly push him back down. Dean's struggle to rise was feeble and it didn't take much to make him stop moving. Sam began to gently examine his brother for wounds.

The creature had been trying to get to Sam and Dean put himself in front of his little brother and fired at the creature. It was a clean shot, but wasn't in time to keep himself from being mauled and thrown violently against a tree. Sam had put another bullet into the creature's head for good measure.

"Why the hell did you do that, Dean? I had it in my sights and you jump in front and shorten the distance and go and get yourself all mauled! I'm a big boy, now, you know! Not to mention that I could have shot you myself!" Sam was angry and right now shooting his brother didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"Got 'im, din' I? You're ok…job done!" Dean stated with finality and his crooked grin. He was very woozy from the impact with the tree and began to notice a whopping headache, too…probably concussion. He'd be aware of other painful spots on his body tomorrow, too, he groused to himself. Sammy wasn't going to leave this alone. Swell!

Sam gently wiped the blood that was on Deans face from the cut at his hairline. It was going to need a few stitches, but could wait until they got back to the motel.

"Dammit, Dean, I'm serious! You've got to stop this macho crap! I'm getting tired of fixing you up all the time and I can take care of myself on a hunt!"

"Mmmy job, Sammy." Dean patted his brother's arm.

"It's Sam," Sam sighed, his anger immediately leaving him. His big brother was never going to relinquish that responsibility and Sam knew it. It just hurt so much to see Dean in this condition because of him! He sighed again. As annoying as his brother's over protectiveness could be, Sam knew it was done out of love; and, let's face it, it was somehow expected. He put his hand over the hand his brother had placed on his arm. "I know, Dean. Thanks, but give me some credit, huh?"

Dean grinned as his eyes closed again and Sam, after completing his examination, decided there was nothing broken or any injury that he couldn't handle himself. His brother hated hospitals and Sam knew he wouldn't hear the end of it for taking Dean to an ER if he wasn't at death's door.

Sam struggled, but managed to lift his now unconscious brother and started toward the car. "Damn, Dean! What have you been eating?" Dean may not be as tall as Sam, but he was very solid. Sam managed to get his burden into the front passenger seat without incident and retrieved a towel from the trunk to place under his brother's head to keep blood from messing up the Impala's precious upholstery. He then got a blanket to cover Dean to try and prevent shock and, after making sure the older hunter was secure, he ran to gather the weapons where the creature had fallen (thank God it was still there and still dead!). He put the weapons in the duffle bag and ran to the Impala to replace them in the trunk. He knew Dean would be wanting to inspect and clean them the next day.

It was a fairly short ride to the motel and Dean would be fine until they got there so Sam got behind the wheel and started the engine. Sam glanced at his brother and put the black beauty in gear and pressed the gas. He didn't want the sound to wake his brother, so he drove very sedately. He also didn't want to attract any unwelcome attention of the law enforcement kind.

As he drove, Sam became angry all over again and smacked the steering wheel in frustration. He loved his brother, but Dean could be sooo exasperating! They were supposed to be a team and have each other's backs, not interfere with a shot! Sam let out a breath at how close he had come to taking the shot and really hurting his brother!

The brothers arrived at the motel without incident and Sam cut the engine. Pocketing the keys, he turned to his brother to see Dean looking at him blearily, but slightly amused. "I don't think she's ever been driven like that, Grandma."

"Bite me. I didn't want to get stopped by the law and have to explain the condition your sorry ass is in. Would you rather I'd called an ambulance or taken you to a hospital?"

Dean chuckled and shook his head carefully. "No, it's alright. Thanks, man."

Sam got out, slammed his door, and came around to open the passenger door. "Do you think you can stand?"

"I'm fine, Sammy. Just give me a minute. 'K?"

Sam decided to respect his brother's space and let him get out on his own if he could. Sam also was ready to jump in and catch Dean if he started to fall.

Dean managed to untangle from the blanket and get himself turned to exit the car. That had, apparently, taken superhuman effort and he had to rest before trying to rise. Dean sat with his head down and then spoke so softly that Sam almost didn't hear him, "I guess you'd better help me, Sammy."

Sam leaned forward to help his brother and put Dean's right arm around his neck and his own left arm around Dean's waist. Dean was able to help a little this time and Sam didn't have to bear his full weight to get him up and started toward their room. They walked slowly, Sam letting Dean set the pace. As they reached the door to their room, Sam leaned Dean up against the doorjamb.

"Can you hold yourself up? I have to get the key out and get the door open."

"I'm fine, Sam."

"Right." Exasperated, Sam knew better than to argue and just opened the door, turned the lights on and went back to retrieve his sagging brother.

"Ready?"

"Whatever, man. Let's just do it!"

Sam realized how much pain his brother was really in and gently helped him into the room to his bed – the first bed from the door. It was always the bed Dean wanted so that anything bad that might come in had to go through him first.

Sam pulled back the spread and covers and lowered Dean to the side of the bed. Sam helped his brother off with his signature leather jacket – fortunately, that wasn't too damaged. There was a little blood and a very small scrape, but they would add to the rugged look his brother liked to project.

Sam went to the small bathroom and came out with some wet washcloths and some towels. 'What was the motel thinking, putting white linens in the rooms? Oh, well.' He went to his brother who was now prone on the bed.

Sam helped the older hunter move around on the bed to be more comfortable. "Let me see your head, Dean."

Dean didn't object as Sam turned his head to the light to better see the gash. The bleeding had finally slowed and Sam gently washed the rest from the area and surveyed the injury with a critical eye.

"It looks pretty good, Dean. I think it'll be fine with some hydrogen peroxide and some butterflies. No stitches."

Dean didn't speak, but looked his brother in the eyes. No words were necessary. He was telling Sam to do whatever needed to be done.

Sam nodded and carefully checked Dean's eyes. Surprisingly, there were no obvious signs of concussion. His pupils were equal and reactive and Sam breathed a sigh of relief at that discovery.

"Okay, no concussion, but let me get this shirt off you and take a look at your other injuries."

Sam got the scissors and cut the shirt to avoid moving his brother around too much. Dean grunted at the desecration of one of his favorite AC/DC shirts, but offered no real resistance. Sam's examination revealed a lot of bruises and one fairly deep gash on Dean's side just above his waist. Sam tossed the ruined shirt aside in disgust.

Dean endured the gentle prodding and cleaning of the wounded areas with only a tiny flinch and an intake of breath as a very tender spot was checked over one rib.

"Sorry," Sam said angrily, but proceeded carefully. No ribs appeared to be broken and the one especially sore spot was a bruised rib.

"I'm afraid this gash is going to need some stitches, Dean."

Sam reached for the hydrogen peroxide as Dean grunted. He poured a small amount over the head wound and let it do it's work as he turned his attention to the more serious injury on Dean's side.

"Here we go, man."

Dean bit his lip and Sam poured. A sharp intake of breath was the only indication of any discomfort. Sam didn't apologize this time even though part of him wanted to. He hated hurting his brother, but Dean had groused at him in the past about always apologizing when doing first aid. Dean's breathing evened out and Sam finished cleaning the wounded areas.

Sam got some butterfly bandages and carefully applied them to the head wound and returned his attention to the more serious wound. John Winchester had trained his boys well in first aid and both young hunters were equally skilled at suturing and bandaging. He had told his sons, in a rare moment of praise, that he defied anyone to tell the difference between their first aid and treatment received in an emergency room by regular doctors. Sam's stitches were small and precise and scarring would be at a minimum.

Sam looked at his brother and realized that he had either passed out or fallen asleep. Sam watched his breathing and checked his pulse and was satisfied with both. He decided to let Dean sleep while the bandages were applied.

When he was done, Sam retrieved the ice pack from the tiny refrigerator. It was always placed there whenever they were lucky enough to get a room that had one of the little appliances. He hesitated only briefly before gently applying the ice pack to the worst of the bruises.

"What the hell, Sam?" Dean gasped as he was shocked awake.

"Sorry, Dean. You need to have this pack on your bruised rib to minimize the swelling and the bruising. It'll only be for a little while and then you can rest again. Okay?"

"Okay, Sammy. Just for a little while…I'm really tired."

"I know, big brother. Just 10 minutes." Sam smiled and began cleaning up the first aid kit and making note of the supplies that would be needed to replenish it – not bad…sutures and butterfly bandages. It always had to be complete as the Winchesters never knew what they might need. The Winchester way of life often demanded immediate emergency care in the field. Hospitals were often too far away and sometimes asked too many questions that would be difficult to answer.

Satisfied, Sam returned the kit to it's place in the duffle bag, looked around the room and then at his sleeping brother. There was time to go to the Impala and get the weapons that had been used today. Sam knew that Dean would want to inspect them in the morning, no matter what his own condition was.

Sam quietly went out the door and closed it softly behind him. He stood there for a moment, leaning on the door, breathing in the night air and letting his body relax. Another evil creature dealt with, his big brother (the idiot) would be ok and they'd take a day or two to regroup and then on to the next gig. Sam had never thought of this life as "normal" and had run away from it. He shook his head and banged it back on the door as he looked to the sky. He really should have known that he couldn't get away from what he knew was out there, that it would catch up to him somehow.

Anyway, he was definitely back and this life was as "normal" as it was going to get for him and Dean. At least they were together and that was the main thing. He had vowed never to leave Dean again and he'd meant it. He'd always be there for his aggravating and much loved older brother as Dean had always been there for him.

Sam shook himself out of his reverie, retrieved the weapons duffle bag and their clothes from the trunk and quietly went back into their room.

END

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