Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sam blinked to try and keep the forest floor in focus, realizing how bad of an idea staying up the night before had been. It normally wouldn’t have been a problem, but running off no sleep and then hiking in the woods for seven hours straight in the cold was definitely pushing him to his limits. Especially since he hadn’t gotten much sleep the past week just in general.

And, of course, there were still no signs of the Wendigo.

He let out a sigh and his eyes threatened to drift close for a little too long, but he pried them open as best he could.

“You good?” Dean questioned from a few feet ahead of him.

Sam looked up to find Dean giving him concerned glances. “Yeah, just tired.”

Dean snorted. “Someone needs their beauty sleep, geez. How late did you stay up after I passed out?”

Sam just shook his head. “Just… a while.”

His older brother raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”

He shrugged, not willing to affirm or deny, hoping that Dean would let it slide this once instead of chewing him out.

That was not the case. “Sammy, you can’t just run on fumes while we’re working. Especially not a case like this. We’ve gotta stay sharp, stay focused, and you can’t do that while you’ve got your eyes closed and you're yawning every five seconds.”

“I know, I know, sorry.” Sam ducked his head, trying to avoid Dean’s glare.

Dean huffed, clearly annoyed, but didn’t go any further than that and Sam didn’t want to press his luck. They’d already had a long day. Even before they entered the forest they’d run into a brother-sister duo of wannabe Hunters that Dean had to scare off. They were only barely a step above the Ghostfacers. While he did feel a bit guilty, Sam knew it was for the best that Dean had scared the crap out of them. They were going to get themselves killed if they stepped foot in the forest.

“You think we’ll find where the Wendigo is hiding out tonight, or do you think we’ll have to stop and camp out soon?” He asked instead, trying to change the subject.

The sun was going to set soon, and while Sam didn’t necessarily love the idea of camping out with a Wendigo, he knew they’d be safe enough as long as they stayed inside their protected circle.

It was a fairly simple hunt. There was News of a shredded campsite and missing people in Minnesota, so they came running. It was a hot spot for the Wendigo specifically, and they didn’t need to do much digging at all before coming to the conclusion of what the monster of the week was. Then they had carefully mapped out the forest so that they didn’t wander in circles looking for the Wendigo’s den. They’d checked a good majority of the forest already, so far no luck.

“We’ll set up camp in a little bit. I say we give it another half an hour.” Dean said, keeping his eyes fixed on the woods in front of them.

Sam was pretty sure that in half an hour the sun would be gone, but he didn’t say anything. He was sure Dean knew that already, but he was going to trust his brother’s decision.

A little while later, right as the sun started to make the plunge towards the earth and disappear completely, Dean suddenly perked up, picking up his pace.

“What?” Sam squinted, the shadows of the trees already making the forest a lot darker. “Do you see something?”

“Dude, don’t you see that cave? We found it!” Dean pointed ahead of them towards some mossy rocks that were shielded by the trees.

Sam nodded, looking around for any obvious clues of the Wendigo. Sure enough, as they got closer they found a trail of dried blood that led into the small cave.

“Maybe we really can get this all done tonight.” Dean grinned. “Then we won’t have to camp out in the woods.”

“Sounds good to me, but you better not jinx us.” Sam huffed, thoroughly amused.

They entered the cave ready for anything, but were disappointed to find it empty. The stench of fresh bodies though—mangled and half-eaten, sharp teeth and claws had torn at flesh to the point there was hardly anything left—made it clear that they had the right spot.

“So what, do we wait for it to come back?” Sam whispered, not liking the way his voice carried in the enclosed space. He tried his best to keep his eyes focused on anything but the bodies, all too similar to the way Dean’s body had been shredded once the hell hounds were done with him. He didn’t want to stay in the cave any longer than he had to.

Dean frowned, apparently noticing Sam’s unease. “Maybe we can wait somewhere near the entrance for it to come back. Then we can corner it.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He agreed, anything to get them out of the cave. It smelled like death. He glanced around nervously, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Sam wasn’t sure if he had a bad feeling because something was off about the case or if it was because of the laughter that echoed off the walls.

He took in a breath from his mouth and out his nose to try and steady himself. Dean didn’t react to the crazed laughter, so he knew it must be in his head.

Sam followed Dean out eagerly.

They found a good hiding spot not far from the entrance of the cave. Dean drew the same symbols he’d memorized years ago to form a protective circle around them, making sure that nothing came up to bite them from behind.

They waited and waited, both of them staring at the entrance for hours. Sam jerked awake after his head fell forward. He’d accidentally dozed off more than a few times, and his face grew hot when he felt Dean’s gaze on him. Sleeping on the case was unprofessional, but thankfully Dean didn’t call him out on it.

Both of them jumped when a blood curdling scream sounded somewhere in the distance.

Dean looked at him, shaking his head. Sam knew he was trying to reassure him that the scream was the Wendigo’s doing, trying to lure them out, but the noise kept going. It was a girl's scream, begging and pleading for help.

Sam was seconds away from covering his ears like a two year old when another noise rang out through the night air. A noise that made both of the Winchesters freeze.

A howl.

It wasn’t just any normal howl either, Sam had heard it before during a hunt with John and he knew he would never forget that sound.

That was no Wendigo, that was a Black Dog.

Sam didn’t know how they’d mixed the two up, how they had so easily jumped to conclusions. There had been fur in the cave, why hadn’t he connected the dots?

Before he could think about it anymore the scream echoed again and before Sam could even realize what that meant— that if there was no Wendigo then there really was a girl who was in trouble— Dean was on his feet and running, weapons in hand, towards the source as fast as he could.

Sam staggered after him, unsure of what else to do. His brain was still working so slowly and he cursed his past self’s stupid decision making. Who cared about hell nightmares? Dean was right, he needed to be sharp on the job, because a split second could mean the difference between someone’s life and death.

Not only did Dean have a head start but he was faster than Sam, and he was far ahead of him by the time the shrieks started to sound less distant.

Sam had his eyes fixed on the back of Dean's head, making sure he didn’t lose his brother in the forest because there was a Black Dog out there and they weren’t prepared for that. What if-

There was a snap as Sam stumbled to the forest floor, hitting it hard as a sudden unspeakable agony erupted throughout his entire body. He didn’t think he could even scream, the breath had been slammed out of him and he nearly choked trying to take in a simple breath. Hazy vision brought the forest into focus, and ahead of him he could see Dean.

Dean made it to the girl. There was no a Black Dog in sight. Satisfied for the moment, Sam turned his head back to the source of the pain, eyes growing wide.

Wrapped around his ankle was a bear trap.

Air was hard to come by again at the very thought, so he looked away, trying to coax himself into not passing out.

In a desperate attempt to distract himself, he turned back to Dean. He was helping the girl up, he couldn’t get the best look at her face in the dark but he could tell that she was dirty and bloody, and that her blond ponytail seemed the slightest bit familiar.

Then he saw it. The Black Dog.

It was in the shadows, red eyed catching the light of his flashlight that he’d dropped when he hit the ground, sneaking up on Dean and the girl.

Dean had his hands full, a gun in his hands but his focus was still on trying to help the girl to get her bearings because apparently her legs were about to give out, and his back was turned to the monster lurking behind him.

“Dea-!” He gasped, barely getting even half the word out before he accidentally pulled on his leg, causing the pain to flare up even more. He took in a huge gulp of air before being able to find his voice again. “Dean!”

That brought Dean’s attention over towards Sam but that didn’t even matter anymore because the Black Dog pounced.

“Dean!” He screamed, louder than he ever had during any torture session with Lucifer because his brother was-

The ginormous red-eyed dog was on top of him. On top of his brother who lay in the dirt, his gun went off during the attack but it was flung from his hands at the impact of hitting the ground. He was left with no weapons, nothing to defend himself.

Sam didn’t even have time to think, he yanked on the metal holding his foot, trying to tear it away. The clamp was too strong, and every little inch he moved made him want to scream as the claws of the trap cut started to tear into flesh.

His hands shook too much to be any use, so he used his feet to kick at it, trying to get himself free.

Dean started to howl in pain in the distance, and all Sam could think of was how he was getting ripped open by a dog all over again and how Dean was going to die again and it was going to be all his fault.

The frantic movements were making his head spin, and he had to brace himself against the ground, taking a handful of leaves and feeling the dead crackle and the squelch of blood between each fingertip.

He just had to save Dean.

The world was blurring, growing dark around the edges, and he tried to crawl forward, staring ahead of him where Dean’s lifeless body lay, full of claw marks and wounds gaping so wide that organs and guts were starting to spill out.

Sam suddenly lurched, heaving up the extremely light breakfast he had earlier in the day at the sight of Dean’s insides painting the forest floor a bright red.

“Dean-“ Sam managed one last time before the darkness took over. The last thing he could remember was his brother’s bloodless face staring at him several feet away and a hand reaching out to grab his shoulder.

*****

The second Dean realized what they were truly hunting— that they’d been wrong, that it wasn’t really a Wendigo, it was something else entirely— he darted towards the source of the screaming. Everything else was forgotten, just that he needed to save the innocent girl that might be dying because they’d done a sloppy job at research.

It had seemed so obvious though, anytime there was a torn up campsite with missing people, especially in Minnesota, every Hunter immediately thinks ‘Wendigo’. And then all the other evidence they had seen had them jumping to the same conclusion, but now he just felt so stupid.

He ran swiftly through the forest, almost falling on his face because of a stray rock or root more than a few times.

Once he came to a clearing, he came to a sudden halt. He’d found the girl's body. It was a bloody mess of gore, her head tipped backwards as she stared up —head only barely attached— with blank dead eyes.

Dean had to look away, unable to face his failure anymore than he had to. He scanned the dark forest, his gun loaded and ready, trying to make out any familiar moving shapes. He went tense as he noticed the red eyed staring back at him, a lot closer than he would’ve liked.

He pointed his gun at it, the Black Dog creeping forward, blood dripping down its chin, showing off teeth that were stained crimson.

Before he had a moment to think, it launched itself at him, but Dean was just a second quicker and a gunshot rang out. The Black Dog collapsed, falling to the ground with a bullet in its head before it could try anything else.

He made sure it was dead as he let out deep breaths, trying to calm himself down from the adrenaline high of running halfway across the forest and seeing a death omen. He avoided looking in the direction of the girl, trying to find anything else to distract him.

Then there was a sharp scream from nearby, Dean couldn’t tell if it was a word, or just gibberish, but sounded hauntingly familiar.

That’s when he noticed that Sam wasn’t beside him. In fact, Sam wasn’t anywhere in his immediate vicinity.

Panic immediately started to seep into his bones, and he frantically searched, looking for his baby brother. He’d taken off sprinting the second he had heard the Black Dogs howl, without a second thought or even a single glance behind him. He was pretty sure that Sam had been right behind him though, right? Sam was always right behind him. So where the hell was he?

Finally he spotted Sam in the direction that he’d come from, in the dark he could only tell that Sam was on the ground, and not lying still either. Was he hurt or had he just tripped? He quickly made his way over, noticing more and more with every step, his brother’s uncoordinated and distressed movements.

Then he saw the bear trap, and if he had been panicked before, now he was hysterical. “Sam! Sammy!” He called, making his way over to Sam as fast as he could.

Sam was pulling and kicking his feet, wildly trying to dislodge his foot from the trap.“Sam, stop! You’re making it worse! Sammy, stop it!” He cried, and as he got closer he could see the terror in Sam’s eyes, and the way they were glazed over in a way he had seen many times during the past several months.

Dean finally made it to Sam and he knelt next to the trap, trying to figure out what would be the best way to approach the situation. With the amount of blood smearing across the ground, he had to try and keep himself from hyperventilating.

“Sam, look at me, you need to calm down, stop moving, you’re gonna be okay but you have to stop-“ his hands hovered over his brother as he twisted to the side, and the gagging was the only warning Dean got before Sam was throwing up into a pile of dead leaves and dirt.

“Dean-“ Sam choked out, not even looking in the right direction to find the older Winchester.

Dean stared at Sam in shock more than anything else, more uncertain than he had ever been. He didn’t know what to do, he didn't know how to help. What was he supposed to do?

He hesitantly put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. He didn’t know if it would help Sam calm down or just make it worse. Right as he did though, Sam went limp.

Dean’s breath hitched, hands shaking as he checked his little brother’s pulse. Satisfied enough that Sam did in fact still had one, even if it was a lot faster than he would’ve liked, he got to work. He reached into his pocket to grab his phone, not sure if he’d even have a signal this deep in the woods. But sure enough, he did, even if it was extremely weak. He called for an ambulance, trying to talk slow enough for the nice lady on the other end to understand.

His brother’s foot was stuck in a bear trap. That’s all she needs to know. It was time for trained professionals to come in and handle things, Dean just prayed that there were no Leviathans lurking about in the Minnesota hospitals.

After he’d given her the rundown of what happened, lying through his teeth at some of the details, and their vague location, the lady told him to stay on the phone, but he hung up. He needed to figure out how the hell he could get Sam away from the body of the Black Dog, or get the dog’s body away from him. Preferably the first. They needed out of the forest so that the paramedics could actually find them. Either way, he needed to figure out a way to stop the bleeding, because at the rate things were going Sam would bleed out before he’d even had a chance to get to a hospital.

Dean knew that removing the trap was probably a bad idea but there was no way to move Sam without making the injury way worse if he didn’t. He took a steadying breath and took off his jacket. Next, he removed his flannel, so that he had a bandage ready and waiting.

He found a good place to grip the trap and he opened its jaws slowly. It took almost all the strength he had left to pry the sharp metal open and slide it off Sam’s foot. He nearly lost his grip on it between bumping part of Sam’s boot and the slick blood that was completely coating the entire surface. He cursed at first but ended up just being thankful that Sam had been wearing such heavy shoes because he was sure that it saved Sam’s foot from some of the damage, even if it had managed to still cut through.

Immediately after the trap fell away, Dean took his flannel and wrapped it around the mangled flesh, trying to keep his breath even at the sight of his brother’s frayed skin peeled back in a way that it never should. He didn’t doubt that Sam had broken his foot, maybe even in multiple places. At that moment though, all that mattered was to try and stop the bleeding, so he tied the material tightly around Sam’s foot

Dean rolled his brother onto his back, and with that he could make out how pale Sam’s face was by the light of the moon now shining down on them. He brushed the hair out of Sam’s face and then braced himself as he maneuvered Sam into a sitting position and hauled his extremely tall little brother onto his own back.

His joints screamed in protest but he couldn’t even pay attention to it. The only thing in his mind was getting his brother to safety.

Dean set out with a quick walk, he wished he could go any faster but he was scared that he’d end up falling on his face, and if that happened he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get back up.

While he walked, the memories of the crazed look in Sam’s eyes as he pulled and struggled against the trap were stuck replaying in the back of his head. Sam knew better than to struggle against something like that, he knew better. Dean tried to blink away the tears, trying to imagine what Sam was seeing. He knew something was happening, that he wasn’t seeing clearly, he had been hallucinating something, but he had no idea what it could be. What could possibly drive Sam to act out in such a way? Make him lash out so irrationally, only hurting himself in the process?

Minutes passed by and he kept a steady pace but his mind was racing. He could feel Sam’s raspy breaths on his neck and he pushed forward with a terrified determination. Sam woke up at some point during their long track, mumbling something unintelligible but he was out not even five seconds later. It only fueled Dean’s fear, and he somehow made himself go faster.

It felt like forever by the time they reached the edge of the forest, and Dean could hear sirens going off in the distance. The red and blue lights coming in through the gaps in the trees.

An ambulance and a police car parked next to the Impala and an old blue pickup truck, which were the only other vehicles in the small parking lot, used more often by hikers than anyone else.

“Over here!” He shouted, calling attention to himself, the paramedics and policemen looking like they were discussing how to take action.

Once they saw him, all of them were rushing over. A second later Dean was surrounded in a dizzying crowd, and he wasn’t sure that his knees would hold him. They helped him get Sam on a stretcher and in the light of the ambulance Dean could finally fully make out his brother’s face and all of the blood that coated the makeshift bandage all the way up his leg, and it made his stomach twist with anxiety.

A young lady with a dark brown braid —that Dean normally might’ve hit on if he was in any other situation— kept asking him questions and he answered the best he could. What happened, was there anyone else in the area, who was Sam, how did they know each other. It just kept coming, and it was making Dean want to scream in frustration.

With a job as dangerous as it was he knew he should be better about not getting so overwhelmed when things went wrong. He didn’t think he did normally, he’d say he worked pretty well under pressure compared to most, especially when it came to injuries. If it was anyone else who was hurt. But anytime Sammy was hurt it was like the world became a blur and his heart would pound out of his chest and he couldn’t concentrate on anything but his brother.

He stepped in a bear trap. That’s about all he could tell them. Had it been rusty? He didn’t think so, at least not that he remembered, there had just been so much blood, he couldn’t tell. After it came out of his mouth he began to doubt himself. Why would there be a bear trap out in the woods where people camped? And if it wasn’t rusty, that meant it had been put out fairly recently. But at the same time if he was misremembering things, and it had been an older trap, he didn’t even want to think about the possible complications that could arise.

He was able to ride in the ambulance and it took a while but he finally felt like his brain was unscrambled enough to talk with the girl with the braid. If he didn’t warn someone ahead of time, he was afraid Sam might end up locked in a loony bin. He was pretty sure that Sam had been seeing things right before he passed out, and if he woke up before Dean was able to see him and calm him down…

“I need to be with my brother when we get to the hospital.” Dean looked between the lady and Sam. Was there only two paramedics in the ambulance? It had felt like a whole lot more than that a few minutes before. “He’s got really bad PTSD and I think something triggered him when it happened I-“

“Sir, I don’t have any say on hospital procedures. I’ll make sure the doctors are aware, but there’s nothing else I can do.” She looked up only to give him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry, he’ll be in good hands there.”

“No, you-“ he sucked in an uneven breath, desperately trying to get her to realize how important it was. “You don’t understand, he was going through an episode right before he passed out, I- I have to be there when he wakes up.” Of course, he couldn’t just straight out say that his brother had probably been hallucinating Lucifer right before he lost consciousness. Besides, he’d like to think that his explanation was as good as any. Hopefully it’d give them a little bit of slack if Sam did start freaking out.

“I’ll be sure to pass it on, but I really don’t have that kind of power.” She said, this time not even bothering to take her eyes off Sam’s shredded foot as she worked.

He supposed that her answer was going to be as good as he got until he actually arrived at the hospital and he had a talk with the doctors.

As soon as they arrived though, he was immediately forced away, and no matter how much hell he raised, none of the staff was changing their minds. The girl with the braid just gave him an apologetic look before heading back towards the ambulance.

Dean was left in the waiting room to do paperwork, mumbling curses to himself as he took the pen with shaky hands, still covered in Sam’s blood. He only barely managed to fill it out without throwing something against the wall.

And he waited. And waited and waited and waited. The older Winchester was sitting with his hands clasped together, his knee bouncing up and down in anticipation, when finally his name was called. His stomach twisted, and he rose to his feet and quickly followed the nurse.

She explained to him that Sam was stable for now, and with that news, Dean could take a breath of fresh air. However, she went on. She told him how Sam’s foot was not in great shape, He had broken his ankle— practically shattered it— and they were very concerned about the risk of infection. They’d have to watch and see how things played out, but at the moment he wasn’t at risk of losing the limb completely, and for that Dean was more than thankful.

They were extremely lucky, Dean knew, because the way Sam had frantically struggled, only managing to shred his leg in the process, had Dean worried that he’d end up messing up his foot beyond repair. She explained that there was a possibility that Sam would walk with a limp for the rest of his life, and while that was not at all good for a Hunter, Dean couldn’t help but just be relieved that he hadn’t lost the entire thing.

The nurse also informed him that apparently Sam had been awake just long enough to cause a little bit of a scene, but they had him under now. She said he’d slowly be coming out of it soon, and she thought that he should be there.

He couldn’t have agreed more.

She led him to where Sam was situated, and he let out a sigh of relief the second he saw his little brother. He was pale and asleep, but alive. At that moment, that was all that he could ever care about.

Dean sat by Sam’s hospital bed, waiting for his brother to wake up. While he was killing time, he played over the recent series of events in his head. He couldn’t get over Sam’s panicked look while he desperately tried to pull his foot free.

Who the hell had set a bear trap? Those woods saw a fair share of hikers and campers, there was no way that was allowed. He wasn’t entirely sure if bear traps were illegal or not in Minnesota, they moved from state to state too much to be able to remember all the details, but he was sure that at the very least something as dangerous as that wouldn’t be allowed in such a public place.

Who would-?

Then suddenly he remembered. Those stupid amateur Hunters that they’d run into on their way into the forest. The trap was fairly new, it hadn’t been there long enough for it to rust or fall apart. Someone had put it out recently. It had to have been the Hunters, the brother and sister duo that had been so cocky. He swore he was going to tear them limb from limb, make sure that they understood how badly they’d screwed up.

Before he could make any more promises, he was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Sam stirring.

His breathing quickly and heavily as his eyes fluttered, and Dean put his hand on Sam’s, hoping that he wouldn’t wake up completely freaked.

“Heya, Sammy.” Dean smiled softly, standing up from his chair and bringing himself into Sam’s immediate view.

Sam went rigid, his eyes flying open and he looked around the room frantically. Dean squeezed Sam’s hand, feeling it trembling slightly in his own. “Sam?” When his brother didn’t reply, only staring at him with wide eyes and short unsteady breaths, Dean pressed his thumb into the palm of Sam’s hand. He massaged the scar that was practically the only thing keeping Sam sane. “You okay?”

“Dean?” Sam blinked, seeming more shocked and confused than anything else. “You’re okay?”

Dean frowned. “Me? I’m not the one in a hospital bed, man.”

He could tell that Sam wasn’t completely in his right mind yet, while was awake and aware, they’d definitely given him something to numb the pain in his foot that was making his brother’s brain a bit foggy. He knew Sam always hated going to hospitals and having to take any sort of medication that made him feel less in control of himself or less himself at all. Sam just stared at him like he was going to disappear if he so much as glanced in a different direction.

“Did you hear me?” Dean sat on Sam’s bed so he’d be close to the same eye level with the kid.

“Wha-?” Finally Sam snapped out of it, taking in the hospital with a concentrated scowl. “Oh.”

“You’re feeling okay then?” Dean leaned forward, brushing Sam’s bangs out of his eyes. The action was a little more tender than he was used to, but he didn’t think Sam would remember it by the end of the hour anyways. Sam, however, reached out and grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly.

“I thought you died.” Sam blurted out, eyes still unfocused.

Sam hadn’t spoken loudly or harshly, he said it just like it was part of the conversation. Like he was just telling Dean about his day. Dean’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

“I thought you died. Saw the Black Dog kill you.” Sam was still looking at him intensely, but it was starting to make more sense as the second ticked by.

“No- Sam, I didn’t die. It didn’t kill me. It killed that girl, but not me.” He still felt guilty about not being able to save her. He should’ve run just a little bit faster, then maybe she would be alive. If they’d done better research, if they hadn’t been so stupid, maybe everything would’ve been different.

“The girl…” Sam trailed off, seeming more confused than ever. Finally his grip loosened on Dean’s hand, letting him have it back for the moment. “The- the sister? Francine?”

“What are you talking about?” Dean studied Sam in an attempt to figure out if his brother was still checked into reality. “The sis-?” He began repeating Sam’s words, but cut himself off. “Oh.” The sister. The duo of stupid Hunters that they’d run into on their way into the forest. The ones he suspected set out the bear trap. The ones he swore he was going to tear apart.

The more he thought about the more Dean realized that yes, that bloody mess of a girl had been the sister. His stomach twisted painfully at the thought. There was no way Francine had been out alone, her brother had to have been close behind her. Maybe he had been at a different part of the forest, completely unaware of what he’d lost, but maybe the Black Dog got him first. Somehow Dean knew that the latter was more likely.

Dean grimaced at the thought, but knew that he couldn’t dwell on it. He had warned them. He’d told them that they better let the professionals handle it, to go back home and find something easier. For one reason or another, that didn’t make him feel any less guilty about the situation. If anything it made him feel worse.

He couldn’t dwell on it though. Not now. Not when everything was already threatening to shatter at any moment. With the Leviathans, with what happened to Bobby, with hell leaking out of Sam’s ears, it was at the point where even Dean was on the brink of falling apart. He couldn’t add another weight on his shoulders.

“Yeah, I think it was her.” Dean huffed. He didn’t even remember the brother’s name, he hadn’t remembered Francine’s name either, but of course Sam had. “I didn’t see the brother. He might still be alive.”

Sam gave him a knowing look, one that said ‘do you really believe that?’ And Dean had to look away.

Dean sighed, taking in a long breath to prepare himself for the next topic because Dean needed to move on from Francine and her brother and there was something he really needed to know. “Sam, what happened? I mean, apparently you saw me getting killed, but what did you see? Why’d you nearly destroy your own leg? You know better than to just force your way out of something like that.”

Sam’s puppy eyes were back, deadly as ever, but apparently it was his turn to avoid eye contact, and he glanced away guiltily. “I don’t know, I panicked.”

“Panicked? Sam, that trap could’ve cut off your foot! What were you thinking?” Dean exclaimed. He immediately regretted raising his voice when Sam flinched at the louder tone. “Sorry I- sorry.”

Sam was quiet for a moment before he responded. “You’re right, I should’ve known something wasn’t right.”

“What did you see?”

“Just… I was following you and I stepped in the trap and when I looked up you were helping the girl, and I could tell you hadn’t seen the Black Dog behind you, and I tried to warn you but then it pounced and…”

“You thought it killed me?”

Sam nodded sheepishly.

The only thing Dean could do was sigh. He wished he could stay angry, maybe talk some sense into his little brother for being so reckless, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. It’s not like Dean could tell him ‘please can you stop hallucinating, this is becoming a problem’ because it had been a problem from the very beginning, and there was nothing Sam could do to stop it. Especially if he didn’t even know he was hallucinating. During a hunt, Dean dying was a very real possibility, so Dean couldn’t blame him for thinking that what he was seeing was real.

“Even if I had been dying, freaking out and screwing up your foot wouldn’t have helped anything.” Dean tried to come up with some sort of lesson, something they could learn from the experience, but there wasn’t much he could say. Settling on ‘don’t freak out’ was poor advice, but it was the only thing Dean could come up with. “If you’re in a mess like that, you have to get yourself out first. Concentrate on that. You’ll have to have faith in me, that I can hold out until you get there. Sammy, if you had bled out, that wouldn’t have helped either of us.”

“I know, sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.” Sam frowned, looking the same way he did when he was a kid and Dean had to get onto him for sneaking a stray dog into the Motel room.

“It's okay.” Dean put a hand on Sam’s good leg. “It could’ve been a lot worse, that's all. I don’t wanna push our luck anymore than we have to.” He paused, giving his baby brother a smile. “How’s your foot?”

Sam shrugged.

“Cmon, talk to me.” Dean urged.

“Just kind of.. numb.” Sam said honestly, shrinking back into his pillows with his next question. “Did I mess it up good? How bad is it?”

“Bad. But it could be worse. A lot worse.” Dean sighed. “You didn’t lose your foot completely, so that’s good news. Just… messed it up a lot. I think one of the nurses said they’re waiting to see if it gets infected. Broke your ankle too, sounded like a pretty nasty break too, but you’ll be okay. I know you will.”

Dean didn’t want to bring up what she’d also said, about Sam possibly walking with a limp. Not for the first time, he wished that Cas would magically show up and fix all their problems again.

“Okay.” Sam nodded tiredly. “Can we bust out of here soon?”

“Did you not just hear me how they were saying it might get infected?” Dean scoffed. “Absolutely not. Maybe later, but we gotta just wait for a while, play it by ear. The second things calm down enough to where I feel like I can handle it the Winchester Way, with soup and a stapler, then I’ll break you out of here, but for now just sit and relax.”

He could tell that Sam was getting tired, all the drugs and the sleep deprivation finally kicking in. His little brother’s hazel eyes drooped, having to put more effort into keeping his eyes open each moment.

“Rest, Sammy.” Dean put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Sam finally let his eyes fall close. “Thanks De.” He mumbled, sounding all of five years old again and Dean’s heart melted.

He watched as Sam’s chest rose and fell, his breathing eventually evening out. Dean swallowed down the suffocating weariness that was threatening to choke him. He just wanted Sam to be okay.

“I’ll take care of you.” Dean whispered, taking in Sam’s still pale face. “No matter what, I swear I will.”