I'll Never Hurt You
Title: I'll Never Hurt You.
Summary: Dean may have invited Sam back, but Sam really isn't handling everything that well. He's hurt both physically and emotionally and he's convinced his brother hates him. One shot set after 5x04 'The End.'
A/N 1 :- I was always kinda fascinated by the sort of half a step back Sam did when he and Dean met back up and Dean pulled out Ruby's knife, so I decided to write a fic about it. Oh, and I threw in dealing with the voicemail from Season 4 as I always wanted to see that addressed in the show.
A/N 2 :- For the purposes of this fic, Sam got beat up a lot worse by the hunters in 'Free To Me And You' than he did in the show. Sorry Sammy but you just break so pretty. Also due to Sam's emotional breakdown he and Dean may seem OOC. Hope you all enjoy. :)
I'll Never Hurt You.
Dean sighed, throwing down the TV remote and swinging his legs over the edge of the motel bed. "You hungry?" he asked, glancing over at the other bed. Sam's eyes were closed but Dean knew his brother wasn't sleeping.
Sam shook his head. "Nah. I think I'm gonna just hit the shower then get some sleep."
"You sure? Cause I'm gonna go out and get myself something."
Sam began searching through his bag for clean clothes. "I'm fine."
"Sam?"
His brother stopped, turning back round to face him. "Yeah?"
"You alright?"
Dean saw Sam's eyes flash briefly with something but before Dean was able to get a read on what it was, it was replaced by a blank expression and a tight smile. "Course. Why wouldn't I be?"
Dean shrugged. "Just checking."
Sam gave him another quick unsettling smile. "I'll see you when you get back, Dean."
Dean nodded, watching as Sam shuffled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He let out a frustrated breath, running his hand tiredly through his hair. He'd expected things to be slightly awkward for a while after they got back together, but this was a whole new level of uncomfortable.
After meeting up, it had been a five hour drive to the motel and Sam had barely spoken to him, answering Dean's attempts at conversation with nods, shakes of the head and the occasional short, abrupt sentences. And when Sam wasn't being forced to interact with Dean, he just sat there staring blankly ahead.
Dean hadn't failed to notice the kind of half a step back his brother took when they'd first met up and Dean had slipped his hand into his jacket, pulling out Ruby's knife. It was almost as if Sam was afraid of him. Thinking about it, Sam had been acting strange toward him since the convent. He'd been withdrawn and quiet, and a few times Dean had caught him flinching if Dean moved too quickly or suddenly. The whole thing confused Dean and caused an unpleasant feeling to settle in the pit of his stomach. Why would Sam be afraid of him?
Dean sighed. They were going to have to talk about this whether Sam wanted to or not.
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Sam carefully stripped out of his clothes, his badly bruised ribs protesting painfully when he pulled his top over his head. He moved slowly to the bathroom mirror and winced at how awful his chest looked. Huge patches of mottled purple and blue bruises covered his skin and the wound where one of hunters had nicked him with a knife was angry and red looking, but at least it seemed like his patch up job with the stitches was still holding.
No matter how much pain he felt on the outside, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling on the inside. His brother may have invited him back but it did nothing to get rid of the empty, worthless feeling Sam felt through every inch of his body. Ever since Dean came back from hell, Sam had done nothing but disappoint him and let him down. He'd freed Lucifer, started the freaking apocalypse. How could he ever expect Dean to forgive him for that?
Back at the bridge, it had only taken Sam a few seconds to realise that Dean was holding Ruby's knife out to him and not at him, but when his brother had first pulled out the weapon, Sam's heart had started hammering and he'd been unable to hide his small flinch of fear. He had thought that this was it. That Dean had finally decided to go through with what he had promised in his phone message. That he was done trying to save Sam. Ever since the convent a part of Sam had been waiting for Dean to do what he'd promised and it left Sam feeling skittish and unsure around his brother.
Not that Sam would blame Dean if he did do it. In fact the world would probably benefit greatly if Dean did go through with it, but for whatever reason his brother had decided to give him a second chance and Sam was going to make sure that Dean never has to regret that decision, which is why he'd decided not to tell Dean about his run in with the hunters. He couldn't handle seeing the disappointment that would be in his brother's eyes if he found out how weak Sam had been.
They were a team again and Sam wasn't going to risk ruining that.
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Sam was back on his bed when Dean returned from his hunt for food. He held up one of takeaway bags to Sam. "I got you something just in case you felt hungry after your shower."
Sam nodded. "I don't but thanks."
Dean sighed, placing the takeaway bags down on a nearby table. "You gotta eat, Sam."
"I'll grab something later," Sam mumbled but he didn't take his eyes of the TV that Dean was sure he was just pretending to be watching so intently.
Dean sat down on his bed, his eyes roaming over his little brother. Sam's whole body language was screaming that something was very wrong. His brother was sat up with his back resting against the headboard, his shoulders hunched in and his head was lowered causing his bangs to fall in front of his eyes. It looked like he was trying hide.
Right, that's it. Dean had had enough. They were gonna talk about whatever the hell this was and sort it out. "Sam?"
"Yeah?" Sam still didn't turn away from the TV.
"Sam! Look at me," Dean demanded.
At the order, Sam slowly turned his attention to Dean, his eyebrows raised in a questioning look.
"What's going on with you, man?" Dean asked.
"What do you mean? Nothing's going on with me."
Dean snorted. "Yeah, right. Clearly you're just fine."
Sam frowned. "I am fine."
"Sam, you've barely said two words to me since we met back up, in fact you've hardly spoken to me in weeks. You're tense and withdrawn, and don't think I didn't notice that you flinched away from me when I pulled out Ruby's knife." Dean stated, finding it hard to keep the irritation out his tone. Why did Sam have to make things so hard? Why couldn't he just tell Dean the truth? "So, I'm gonna ask again, what's going on with you?"
Sam didn't answer; he just lowered his head even more.
"Are you afraid of me, Sammy?" Dean voice was quiet, like it hurt him to even think those words let alone say them.
Sam's head snapped back up. "No! Of course not!" The denial was fast. Much too fast.
Dean sighed sadly. "I know you're lying. I saw you flinch Sam and it's not the first time either. Ever since the convent you've been jumpy around me. Why are you scared of me, Sam?"
Sam felt tears burn in his eyes but he fought desperately to keep them at bay, to bury the pain deep down where he couldn't feel it. He couldn't let Dean see how pathetic and useless he was.
"Sam, talk to me. Please, tell me what's wrong?"
Dean's voice was gentle. A tone that hadn't been directed at Sam in what felt like forever and Sam hated that his brother was using it now. Sam didn't deserve any gentleness, not after all the damage he'd done.
"Nothing's wrong, Dean." Sam hoped his voice didn't sound as weak as he felt. "I'm not scared of you. I'm just tired, that's all."
Dean shot him a disbelieving look. "Tired? You honestly expect me believe that?"
"It's the truth."
Dean rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Sam..."
"Look, I'm just tired, alright?" Sam snapped. "So just leave me alone and let me sleep."
Silence reigned over the two of them before Dean huffed out an annoyed, "Fine."
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Sam groaned as he blinked his eyes open. It was pitch black outside and for a moment he wondered what had woken him but then he felt the throbbing pain in his stomach. He hissed when he looked down and saw blood was seeping through his top. Shit. Some of his stitches must have burst.
Trying to move as carefully as he could, Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed and rummaged through his duffel bag until he finally found his med kit. Standing up caused a wave of dizziness and nausea to hit, and he closed his eyes, willing it to pass. After a few moments of swaying unsteadily, he took slow steps towards the bathroom.
'Please stay asleep,' he prayed, glancing over at his brother's sleeping form before disappearing into the bathroom.
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Dean wasn't sure what woke him but as soon as he opened his eyes he knew something was wrong. A horrible feeling washed over him that left him feeling tense and anxious. He immediately sought out his little brother and his anxiety shot up a notch when he saw Sam's bed was empty.
Noticing the light coming from underneath the bathroom door, he quickly made his way over, knocking loudly on it. "Sam?"
No answer but Dean thought he heard shuffling from inside.
"Sammy, you okay?"
Still no answer and Dean felt panic fill him at the lack of response.
"I'm coming in, alright?"
Dean wasn't sure what he expected to find when he opened the door but it wasn't his little brother slumped on the floor, pale and shaking, leaning against the bath with an open med kit by his side, and Jesus was that blood?
"Fuck, Sammy!"
Sam slowly raised his head and gave Dean a thin smile. "Sorry … woke you …didn't mean..."
"Christ, Sammy! You think I care about that?" Dean was knelt down in front of Sam within seconds, unable to stop staring at Sam's blood stained hands. "What the hell happened?"
Even though logically Sam knew he couldn't hide it any longer, he still didn't want Dean to find out. Didn't want to see the anger and disappointment fill his eyes. Sam hunched further in on himself, a moan of pain escaping at the movement.
"Sam!" Dean said firmly and he gently framed Sam's face with his hands, forcing his brother to look at him and not liking the glazed, pain filled look in Sam's eyes or the unnatural heat that was coming off him in waves. "Where are you hurt, Sam?"
Sam choked back a sob. God, he was such a pathetic failure. He couldn't even stitch a simple cut without screwing up. No wonder Dean had wanted to get rid him of him. He wasn't just useless, he was a god damn liability. "I tried..to fix it but...but my hands won't stop.. shaking..." He felt his breath hitch and tried to take some deep breaths to calm down but it was no use.
"Sammy, where?" Dean demanded, worry and fear causing anger to seep into his tone and his eyes widened when he saw Sammy flinch back away from him.
"I'm sorry," Sam cried. "I'm sorry, De."
"Hey, hey, hey," Dean soothed, deliberately softening his voice as he reached out to squeeze Sam's shoulder reassuringly. "It's okay, Sammy. It's okay."
"Don't be mad. Don't be mad," Sam begged, his eyes pleading desperately with Dean's.
"Shhh, I'm not mad, okay?" Dean replied. "But I need you to tell me where you're hurt? I need you to let me check you out, alright kiddo?"
Sam knew there was no point fighting any longer. He had no choice but to let Dean see. "My stomach," he whispered brokenly.
Dean carefully lifted up Sam's top and sucked in a horrified breath as he took in the abuse littered across Sam's torso. Jesus! The kid was fucking covered in bruises and there was a shallow cut across his stomach which was still bleeding sluggishly, the area around it red and swollen. Dean was no doctor but he knew an infection when he saw one, which explained Sam's fever. "What happened, Sam?"
Sam sighed defeated, his head lolling back against the bath. "Hunters."
"Hunters?" Dean tried to control his anger coursing through his veins at the thought of people hurting Sam like this. "Hunters did this to you?"
"Yeah," Sam said weakly. "Found out what I was. A blood sucking freak. A vampire. Just like you said."
Dean looked genuinely confused. "What? When the hell did I ever say that?"
"S'okay, Dean. I know it's the truth." Sam's voice was beginning to slur. God, he was tired and he really didn't feel well. "I know what I am. You're right, I'm a monster."
Dean frowned in concern at Sam's words. "This better be the fever you're running."
Sam coughed, groaning when his ribs and stomach protested painfully at the action.
"Okay kiddo, let's get you sorted out." Dean gently grabbed under Sam's arms and carefully hauled him upright. "Let's get you back to bed and patched up, huh?"
"Don't feel so good," Sam mumbled as he staggered back towards his bed with Dean supporting most of his weight.
"I know, buddy." Dean gently lowered Sam down onto the mattress. "But don't worry, I'm gonna take care of you, okay?"
Sam looked up at his brother with wide, wet eyes. "M'sorry, De."
"Shhh, just relax." Dean ran a hand soothingly through his brother's hair before setting to work on treating Sam's injuries.
Luckily the cut on Sam's stomach wasn't deep and didn't need too many stitches but it was definitely infected and Dean was pretty certain Sam had a couple of broken ribs too. He'd been able to get Sam to take some painkillers and antibiotics and his brother was now sleeping peacefully beside him.
Dean still couldn't figure out why Sam thought he had to hide this from him, and as soon as his brother is awake and coherent enough to answer questions, Dean will be getting the names of those hunters and will be paying them a little visit. Right now though he had a sick and injured little brother to watch over. Dean knew the way Sam was acting wasn't just about the beating he took from the hunters. There was something else deeply upsetting his brother and Dean was determined to find out what it was.
Dean was so caught up in his own thoughts that didn't realise his brother had woken up until he felt one of Sam's hands close around his wrist.
"Hey." Dean smiled, shuffling down on the bed so he was lying face to face with Sam. His brother's eyes were still clouded by a mixture of fever and painkillers but he gave Dean a dopey smile in return. "How you feeling?"
Sam grunted.
"That good, huh?"
"Feel spacey," Sam said, his voice thick and heavy.
"Yeah, that's cause I gave you some of the good stuff," Dean replied and he turned Sam's hand over so his brother's wrist was lying in the palm of his hand, and Dean ran his thumb back and forth across the pulse point. "What the hell were you thinking? Hiding that you were hurt?"
Sam sighed and lowered his eyes. "Just didn't want to be a burden. Didn't want you to think I was weak."
"I would never think that," Dean said firmly. "If you're hurt Sam then I want to know about it, alright?"
Sam scoffed. "Yeah, so you can know how useless I am and have another reason to hate me."
Dean frowned. "What? Sam what are you talking about?"
"Nothing," Sam mumbled.
"Sammy, you need to tell me what's going on here," Dean insisted. "Why do you keep talking like that? Why do think I hate you? Why have you been acting afraid of me? What did I do?"
"You said you wanted to kill me," Sam whispered and Dean felt Sam's pulse race under his thumb.
Dean just stared dumbly at Sam, too confused and shocked to say anything.
"It's okay." Sam hastened to assure. "I understand why. And you're right, I..."
"When the fuck did I ever say I wanted to kill you, Sam?" Dean demanded.
Sam scrunched his face up in confusion at Dean. How could his brother forget so easily? "In your voicemail."
"What?"
"You left me a message just before what happened at the convent."
"Yeah, I remember," Dean replied, confused as hell. "But how the hell did you get I want to kill you from that?"
"You said that dad was right and that you were done tying to save me." Sam shivered, hearing the harsh words over and over in his head. "It's pretty clear what you meant."
"I never said that!" Dean protested.
"Dean, it's okay. I understand." Sam pulled his hand out of Dean's hold. Dean shouldn't have to touch him. Sam was wrong. Evil. "And you'd probably be doing the world a huge favour if you did just kill me."
Dean felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. "Jesus, Sam, don't say stuff like that." He ran a hand tiredly over his face. "And I never said any of that. Do you still have the message on your phone?"
Sam nodded unable to look Dean in the eyes. "I still listen to it sometimes. So I don't forget."
Dean gritted his teeth as he searched through Sam's duffel until he found the phone. Flipping it open, he dialled voicemail and listened.
"Listen to me you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam. A vampire. You're not you anymore and there's no going back."
What the? Dean felt like he was gonna throw up. "This is what you thought I said? Christ, Sam! You honestly believe I'd talk about you like that?" Fuck, how did their lives get this screwed up?
"You did talk about me like that." Sam pointed a wobbly finger at the phone. "That's you on the phone."
"That is not me!" Dean snapped. "I never said any of that. I left you a message but it was nothing like that."
"It's your voice, Dean."
"But it's not me! Zachariah or that bitch Ruby must have messed with it somehow." Dean was panting, he was furious. How fucking dare they manipulate them like this? He was going to tear Zachariah apart. "I swear Sam, I never said that. The voicemail I left you said that even though I was still angry at you, I was sorry for what I said and that we're still family. We're still brothers."
Sam stared at Dean is disbelief, tears shining in his eyes and he looked so god damn young and vulnerable. It physically hurt Dean to see his little brother looking so broken and he did the only thing he could think of. He got back in the bed and hauled Sammy up until he was in his arms, Sam's head resting against Dean's chest. "I would never, never want to kill you. You hear me? You're my baby brother and I am never going to be done trying to save you."
Sam couldn't help it. He began sobbing in Dean's arms. He was hurt, exhausted, drugged up and had just found out that one of the worst things he'd ever had to listen to wasn't true. It was too much.
Dean rubbed comforting circles across his back. "Shhh, Sammy. Shhh, it's alright now. I gotcha."
"Thought you hated me," Sam sobbed, his breath hitching.
"Could never hate you, kiddo." Dean promised, holding him tighter. "Never. It's me and you against the world. Always."
Dean continued to whisper soothing nonsense until finally Sam cried himself into exhaustion and fell to sleep still wrapped safely in Dean's arms. Dean sighed, resting his chin lightly on the top of Sam's head. How had he ever let things get so bad between them that Sam would even consider believing that voicemail? And the fact that Sam still listens to it sometimes? How incredibly fucking heartbreaking and wrong is that? Well, no more. The second Sam wakes up, they're gonna delete that message together.
Dean yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired and his body desperately wanted to sleep but he knew he wouldn't be getting any rest tonight. His little brother was sick and hurt and he needed his big brother to watch over him, and that's exactly what Dean's going to do. And tomorrow? Tomorrow Dean was going to fix this mess and make sure Sam never again doubts just how much he means to Dean.
"You don't ever have to be afraid of me, Sammy," Dean whispered into his brother's hair. "I'll never hurt you."
The End.
Summary: Dean may have invited Sam back, but Sam really isn't handling everything that well. He's hurt both physically and emotionally and he's convinced his brother hates him. One shot set after 5x04 'The End.'
A/N 1 :- I was always kinda fascinated by the sort of half a step back Sam did when he and Dean met back up and Dean pulled out Ruby's knife, so I decided to write a fic about it. Oh, and I threw in dealing with the voicemail from Season 4 as I always wanted to see that addressed in the show.
A/N 2 :- For the purposes of this fic, Sam got beat up a lot worse by the hunters in 'Free To Me And You' than he did in the show. Sorry Sammy but you just break so pretty. Also due to Sam's emotional breakdown he and Dean may seem OOC. Hope you all enjoy. :)
I'll Never Hurt You.
Dean sighed, throwing down the TV remote and swinging his legs over the edge of the motel bed. "You hungry?" he asked, glancing over at the other bed. Sam's eyes were closed but Dean knew his brother wasn't sleeping.
Sam shook his head. "Nah. I think I'm gonna just hit the shower then get some sleep."
"You sure? Cause I'm gonna go out and get myself something."
Sam began searching through his bag for clean clothes. "I'm fine."
"Sam?"
His brother stopped, turning back round to face him. "Yeah?"
"You alright?"
Dean saw Sam's eyes flash briefly with something but before Dean was able to get a read on what it was, it was replaced by a blank expression and a tight smile. "Course. Why wouldn't I be?"
Dean shrugged. "Just checking."
Sam gave him another quick unsettling smile. "I'll see you when you get back, Dean."
Dean nodded, watching as Sam shuffled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He let out a frustrated breath, running his hand tiredly through his hair. He'd expected things to be slightly awkward for a while after they got back together, but this was a whole new level of uncomfortable.
After meeting up, it had been a five hour drive to the motel and Sam had barely spoken to him, answering Dean's attempts at conversation with nods, shakes of the head and the occasional short, abrupt sentences. And when Sam wasn't being forced to interact with Dean, he just sat there staring blankly ahead.
Dean hadn't failed to notice the kind of half a step back his brother took when they'd first met up and Dean had slipped his hand into his jacket, pulling out Ruby's knife. It was almost as if Sam was afraid of him. Thinking about it, Sam had been acting strange toward him since the convent. He'd been withdrawn and quiet, and a few times Dean had caught him flinching if Dean moved too quickly or suddenly. The whole thing confused Dean and caused an unpleasant feeling to settle in the pit of his stomach. Why would Sam be afraid of him?
Dean sighed. They were going to have to talk about this whether Sam wanted to or not.
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Sam carefully stripped out of his clothes, his badly bruised ribs protesting painfully when he pulled his top over his head. He moved slowly to the bathroom mirror and winced at how awful his chest looked. Huge patches of mottled purple and blue bruises covered his skin and the wound where one of hunters had nicked him with a knife was angry and red looking, but at least it seemed like his patch up job with the stitches was still holding.
No matter how much pain he felt on the outside, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling on the inside. His brother may have invited him back but it did nothing to get rid of the empty, worthless feeling Sam felt through every inch of his body. Ever since Dean came back from hell, Sam had done nothing but disappoint him and let him down. He'd freed Lucifer, started the freaking apocalypse. How could he ever expect Dean to forgive him for that?
Back at the bridge, it had only taken Sam a few seconds to realise that Dean was holding Ruby's knife out to him and not at him, but when his brother had first pulled out the weapon, Sam's heart had started hammering and he'd been unable to hide his small flinch of fear. He had thought that this was it. That Dean had finally decided to go through with what he had promised in his phone message. That he was done trying to save Sam. Ever since the convent a part of Sam had been waiting for Dean to do what he'd promised and it left Sam feeling skittish and unsure around his brother.
Not that Sam would blame Dean if he did do it. In fact the world would probably benefit greatly if Dean did go through with it, but for whatever reason his brother had decided to give him a second chance and Sam was going to make sure that Dean never has to regret that decision, which is why he'd decided not to tell Dean about his run in with the hunters. He couldn't handle seeing the disappointment that would be in his brother's eyes if he found out how weak Sam had been.
They were a team again and Sam wasn't going to risk ruining that.
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Sam was back on his bed when Dean returned from his hunt for food. He held up one of takeaway bags to Sam. "I got you something just in case you felt hungry after your shower."
Sam nodded. "I don't but thanks."
Dean sighed, placing the takeaway bags down on a nearby table. "You gotta eat, Sam."
"I'll grab something later," Sam mumbled but he didn't take his eyes of the TV that Dean was sure he was just pretending to be watching so intently.
Dean sat down on his bed, his eyes roaming over his little brother. Sam's whole body language was screaming that something was very wrong. His brother was sat up with his back resting against the headboard, his shoulders hunched in and his head was lowered causing his bangs to fall in front of his eyes. It looked like he was trying hide.
Right, that's it. Dean had had enough. They were gonna talk about whatever the hell this was and sort it out. "Sam?"
"Yeah?" Sam still didn't turn away from the TV.
"Sam! Look at me," Dean demanded.
At the order, Sam slowly turned his attention to Dean, his eyebrows raised in a questioning look.
"What's going on with you, man?" Dean asked.
"What do you mean? Nothing's going on with me."
Dean snorted. "Yeah, right. Clearly you're just fine."
Sam frowned. "I am fine."
"Sam, you've barely said two words to me since we met back up, in fact you've hardly spoken to me in weeks. You're tense and withdrawn, and don't think I didn't notice that you flinched away from me when I pulled out Ruby's knife." Dean stated, finding it hard to keep the irritation out his tone. Why did Sam have to make things so hard? Why couldn't he just tell Dean the truth? "So, I'm gonna ask again, what's going on with you?"
Sam didn't answer; he just lowered his head even more.
"Are you afraid of me, Sammy?" Dean voice was quiet, like it hurt him to even think those words let alone say them.
Sam's head snapped back up. "No! Of course not!" The denial was fast. Much too fast.
Dean sighed sadly. "I know you're lying. I saw you flinch Sam and it's not the first time either. Ever since the convent you've been jumpy around me. Why are you scared of me, Sam?"
Sam felt tears burn in his eyes but he fought desperately to keep them at bay, to bury the pain deep down where he couldn't feel it. He couldn't let Dean see how pathetic and useless he was.
"Sam, talk to me. Please, tell me what's wrong?"
Dean's voice was gentle. A tone that hadn't been directed at Sam in what felt like forever and Sam hated that his brother was using it now. Sam didn't deserve any gentleness, not after all the damage he'd done.
"Nothing's wrong, Dean." Sam hoped his voice didn't sound as weak as he felt. "I'm not scared of you. I'm just tired, that's all."
Dean shot him a disbelieving look. "Tired? You honestly expect me believe that?"
"It's the truth."
Dean rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Sam..."
"Look, I'm just tired, alright?" Sam snapped. "So just leave me alone and let me sleep."
Silence reigned over the two of them before Dean huffed out an annoyed, "Fine."
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Sam groaned as he blinked his eyes open. It was pitch black outside and for a moment he wondered what had woken him but then he felt the throbbing pain in his stomach. He hissed when he looked down and saw blood was seeping through his top. Shit. Some of his stitches must have burst.
Trying to move as carefully as he could, Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed and rummaged through his duffel bag until he finally found his med kit. Standing up caused a wave of dizziness and nausea to hit, and he closed his eyes, willing it to pass. After a few moments of swaying unsteadily, he took slow steps towards the bathroom.
'Please stay asleep,' he prayed, glancing over at his brother's sleeping form before disappearing into the bathroom.
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Dean wasn't sure what woke him but as soon as he opened his eyes he knew something was wrong. A horrible feeling washed over him that left him feeling tense and anxious. He immediately sought out his little brother and his anxiety shot up a notch when he saw Sam's bed was empty.
Noticing the light coming from underneath the bathroom door, he quickly made his way over, knocking loudly on it. "Sam?"
No answer but Dean thought he heard shuffling from inside.
"Sammy, you okay?"
Still no answer and Dean felt panic fill him at the lack of response.
"I'm coming in, alright?"
Dean wasn't sure what he expected to find when he opened the door but it wasn't his little brother slumped on the floor, pale and shaking, leaning against the bath with an open med kit by his side, and Jesus was that blood?
"Fuck, Sammy!"
Sam slowly raised his head and gave Dean a thin smile. "Sorry … woke you …didn't mean..."
"Christ, Sammy! You think I care about that?" Dean was knelt down in front of Sam within seconds, unable to stop staring at Sam's blood stained hands. "What the hell happened?"
Even though logically Sam knew he couldn't hide it any longer, he still didn't want Dean to find out. Didn't want to see the anger and disappointment fill his eyes. Sam hunched further in on himself, a moan of pain escaping at the movement.
"Sam!" Dean said firmly and he gently framed Sam's face with his hands, forcing his brother to look at him and not liking the glazed, pain filled look in Sam's eyes or the unnatural heat that was coming off him in waves. "Where are you hurt, Sam?"
Sam choked back a sob. God, he was such a pathetic failure. He couldn't even stitch a simple cut without screwing up. No wonder Dean had wanted to get rid him of him. He wasn't just useless, he was a god damn liability. "I tried..to fix it but...but my hands won't stop.. shaking..." He felt his breath hitch and tried to take some deep breaths to calm down but it was no use.
"Sammy, where?" Dean demanded, worry and fear causing anger to seep into his tone and his eyes widened when he saw Sammy flinch back away from him.
"I'm sorry," Sam cried. "I'm sorry, De."
"Hey, hey, hey," Dean soothed, deliberately softening his voice as he reached out to squeeze Sam's shoulder reassuringly. "It's okay, Sammy. It's okay."
"Don't be mad. Don't be mad," Sam begged, his eyes pleading desperately with Dean's.
"Shhh, I'm not mad, okay?" Dean replied. "But I need you to tell me where you're hurt? I need you to let me check you out, alright kiddo?"
Sam knew there was no point fighting any longer. He had no choice but to let Dean see. "My stomach," he whispered brokenly.
Dean carefully lifted up Sam's top and sucked in a horrified breath as he took in the abuse littered across Sam's torso. Jesus! The kid was fucking covered in bruises and there was a shallow cut across his stomach which was still bleeding sluggishly, the area around it red and swollen. Dean was no doctor but he knew an infection when he saw one, which explained Sam's fever. "What happened, Sam?"
Sam sighed defeated, his head lolling back against the bath. "Hunters."
"Hunters?" Dean tried to control his anger coursing through his veins at the thought of people hurting Sam like this. "Hunters did this to you?"
"Yeah," Sam said weakly. "Found out what I was. A blood sucking freak. A vampire. Just like you said."
Dean looked genuinely confused. "What? When the hell did I ever say that?"
"S'okay, Dean. I know it's the truth." Sam's voice was beginning to slur. God, he was tired and he really didn't feel well. "I know what I am. You're right, I'm a monster."
Dean frowned in concern at Sam's words. "This better be the fever you're running."
Sam coughed, groaning when his ribs and stomach protested painfully at the action.
"Okay kiddo, let's get you sorted out." Dean gently grabbed under Sam's arms and carefully hauled him upright. "Let's get you back to bed and patched up, huh?"
"Don't feel so good," Sam mumbled as he staggered back towards his bed with Dean supporting most of his weight.
"I know, buddy." Dean gently lowered Sam down onto the mattress. "But don't worry, I'm gonna take care of you, okay?"
Sam looked up at his brother with wide, wet eyes. "M'sorry, De."
"Shhh, just relax." Dean ran a hand soothingly through his brother's hair before setting to work on treating Sam's injuries.
Luckily the cut on Sam's stomach wasn't deep and didn't need too many stitches but it was definitely infected and Dean was pretty certain Sam had a couple of broken ribs too. He'd been able to get Sam to take some painkillers and antibiotics and his brother was now sleeping peacefully beside him.
Dean still couldn't figure out why Sam thought he had to hide this from him, and as soon as his brother is awake and coherent enough to answer questions, Dean will be getting the names of those hunters and will be paying them a little visit. Right now though he had a sick and injured little brother to watch over. Dean knew the way Sam was acting wasn't just about the beating he took from the hunters. There was something else deeply upsetting his brother and Dean was determined to find out what it was.
Dean was so caught up in his own thoughts that didn't realise his brother had woken up until he felt one of Sam's hands close around his wrist.
"Hey." Dean smiled, shuffling down on the bed so he was lying face to face with Sam. His brother's eyes were still clouded by a mixture of fever and painkillers but he gave Dean a dopey smile in return. "How you feeling?"
Sam grunted.
"That good, huh?"
"Feel spacey," Sam said, his voice thick and heavy.
"Yeah, that's cause I gave you some of the good stuff," Dean replied and he turned Sam's hand over so his brother's wrist was lying in the palm of his hand, and Dean ran his thumb back and forth across the pulse point. "What the hell were you thinking? Hiding that you were hurt?"
Sam sighed and lowered his eyes. "Just didn't want to be a burden. Didn't want you to think I was weak."
"I would never think that," Dean said firmly. "If you're hurt Sam then I want to know about it, alright?"
Sam scoffed. "Yeah, so you can know how useless I am and have another reason to hate me."
Dean frowned. "What? Sam what are you talking about?"
"Nothing," Sam mumbled.
"Sammy, you need to tell me what's going on here," Dean insisted. "Why do you keep talking like that? Why do think I hate you? Why have you been acting afraid of me? What did I do?"
"You said you wanted to kill me," Sam whispered and Dean felt Sam's pulse race under his thumb.
Dean just stared dumbly at Sam, too confused and shocked to say anything.
"It's okay." Sam hastened to assure. "I understand why. And you're right, I..."
"When the fuck did I ever say I wanted to kill you, Sam?" Dean demanded.
Sam scrunched his face up in confusion at Dean. How could his brother forget so easily? "In your voicemail."
"What?"
"You left me a message just before what happened at the convent."
"Yeah, I remember," Dean replied, confused as hell. "But how the hell did you get I want to kill you from that?"
"You said that dad was right and that you were done tying to save me." Sam shivered, hearing the harsh words over and over in his head. "It's pretty clear what you meant."
"I never said that!" Dean protested.
"Dean, it's okay. I understand." Sam pulled his hand out of Dean's hold. Dean shouldn't have to touch him. Sam was wrong. Evil. "And you'd probably be doing the world a huge favour if you did just kill me."
Dean felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. "Jesus, Sam, don't say stuff like that." He ran a hand tiredly over his face. "And I never said any of that. Do you still have the message on your phone?"
Sam nodded unable to look Dean in the eyes. "I still listen to it sometimes. So I don't forget."
Dean gritted his teeth as he searched through Sam's duffel until he found the phone. Flipping it open, he dialled voicemail and listened.
"Listen to me you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam. A vampire. You're not you anymore and there's no going back."
What the? Dean felt like he was gonna throw up. "This is what you thought I said? Christ, Sam! You honestly believe I'd talk about you like that?" Fuck, how did their lives get this screwed up?
"You did talk about me like that." Sam pointed a wobbly finger at the phone. "That's you on the phone."
"That is not me!" Dean snapped. "I never said any of that. I left you a message but it was nothing like that."
"It's your voice, Dean."
"But it's not me! Zachariah or that bitch Ruby must have messed with it somehow." Dean was panting, he was furious. How fucking dare they manipulate them like this? He was going to tear Zachariah apart. "I swear Sam, I never said that. The voicemail I left you said that even though I was still angry at you, I was sorry for what I said and that we're still family. We're still brothers."
Sam stared at Dean is disbelief, tears shining in his eyes and he looked so god damn young and vulnerable. It physically hurt Dean to see his little brother looking so broken and he did the only thing he could think of. He got back in the bed and hauled Sammy up until he was in his arms, Sam's head resting against Dean's chest. "I would never, never want to kill you. You hear me? You're my baby brother and I am never going to be done trying to save you."
Sam couldn't help it. He began sobbing in Dean's arms. He was hurt, exhausted, drugged up and had just found out that one of the worst things he'd ever had to listen to wasn't true. It was too much.
Dean rubbed comforting circles across his back. "Shhh, Sammy. Shhh, it's alright now. I gotcha."
"Thought you hated me," Sam sobbed, his breath hitching.
"Could never hate you, kiddo." Dean promised, holding him tighter. "Never. It's me and you against the world. Always."
Dean continued to whisper soothing nonsense until finally Sam cried himself into exhaustion and fell to sleep still wrapped safely in Dean's arms. Dean sighed, resting his chin lightly on the top of Sam's head. How had he ever let things get so bad between them that Sam would even consider believing that voicemail? And the fact that Sam still listens to it sometimes? How incredibly fucking heartbreaking and wrong is that? Well, no more. The second Sam wakes up, they're gonna delete that message together.
Dean yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired and his body desperately wanted to sleep but he knew he wouldn't be getting any rest tonight. His little brother was sick and hurt and he needed his big brother to watch over him, and that's exactly what Dean's going to do. And tomorrow? Tomorrow Dean was going to fix this mess and make sure Sam never again doubts just how much he means to Dean.
"You don't ever have to be afraid of me, Sammy," Dean whispered into his brother's hair. "I'll never hurt you."
The End.