Disclaimer: We do not own Supernatural, although I would take Sam and LadyWallace would claim Dean if we could. We are not doctors, so please forgive any medical inaccuracies. The title comes from the song "Not Right Now" sung by Jason Gray. Don't worry; we promise not to permanently damage Dean. :)

Co-written by LadyWallace and AnastaziaDanielle.

*This chapter was written by AnastaziaDanielle.

Not Right Now

"I know someday
I know somehow
I'll be okay
But not right now
Not right now"

Chapter 1

Sam grimaced as he watched his older brother take a bite of a thick, juicy burger. Juice dribbled down the elder Winchester's chin as he chewed happily.

"This is great, Sam," Dean grinned around his mouthful of beef.

"No, thanks." Sam wrinkled his nose at his brother and took another bite of his salad.

"Hey, you need your strength to go hunting tonight. Full moon's a-callin', Sammy." Dean dipped a french fry liberally in ketchup before he popped it into his mouth.

Sam took a bite of his salad and glanced at his watch. They needed to get back to their motel room soon to make sure they had their gear packed and ready to go.

Dean seemed to read his mind. "We'll have plenty of time. I need a piece of pie before we go." He patted his belly and smirked at his brother.

Sam sighed. "If you keep eating pie at every meal you're going to be too out of shape to go hunting." He nearly yelped when the toe of Dean's boot connected with his shin beneath the table.

"Never come between a man and his pie, Sammy."

"It's Sam," the youngest Winchester grouched as he forked another mouthful of salad into his mouth.

After Dean had savored his slice of pie, Sam tossed a tip onto the table while Dean paid the bill at the register. Then they made their way to the Impala. Dean slid into the driver's seat and rubbed his belly with a moan. "I think I ate too much."

Sam rolled his eyes and shifted to get comfortable. They had a long night ahead of them hunting the werewolf that had killed six people over the past three months. He'd barely slept last night; his rest had been plagued with nightmares. He longed for the time to catch a short nap, but he knew that wouldn't be possible. Their supplies would need to be checked and rechecked and then loaded into the car. Sleep would have to wait until tomorrow morning after the werewolf was dead. A heavy sigh escaped his lips.

Once they reached the motel, Dean expertly checked each of his weapons and watched to make sure his younger brother did the same. One could never be too careful; it seemed as if the unexpected always happened on a hunt. "You ready, Sam?" he asked.

The youngest Winchester nodded and hefted the backpack containing his supplies. "Let's get this over with. I need a good night's sleep."

"You can sleep all you want after we gank this thing," Dean promised with a smirk.

The brothers were quiet as Dean drove the Impala down the two lane road. Sam leaned his head against the cool glass of the Impala's passenger window and stared up at the darkening sky. His brother had fallen into a moody silence; it seemed as if that's what he was like most of the time these days. It had been five long months since their father had passed, and Dean was still dealing with his loss and allowing the guilt to eat him alive. Sam sighed without realizing it.

"What's eating you, Samantha?" Dean asked, suddenly breaking the silence as he cast a glance toward his younger brother before turning his gaze back to the road.

Sam blinked in surprise and turned to look at Dean. "What? Nothing. Just thinking."

Dean didn't answer. Instead, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the Metallica song that blasted from the car's stereo.

After driving for another ten minutes, Dean turned off onto a narrow dirt road and carefully parked the Impala behind a stand of trees out of view of the main road. He turned to look at Sam. "Ready?"

Sam nodded stoically and followed his brother out of the car. He shrugged into his backpack, grabbed his gun loaded with silver bullets, and held it tightly in his fist before following his brother through the darkening woods to the area the werewolf had been known to frequent.

The wind gently rustled the few remaining leaves on the trees. The ground was damp and muddy; it had rained earlier in the day. Sam slid as he traversed the uneven ground behind his brother and muttered a muffled curse.

Dean glanced over his shoulder. "You okay, Sammy?" he whispered.

"Fine. Keep going," Sam replied shortly. He sucked in a deep breath of damp earth and moldy leaves and stared into the forest around him, wishing the light of the full moon would cast an eerie glow over the ground. The moon had been covered by clouds as they were walking into the tree line, and now a steady rain was falling. It was really difficult to see, despite their heavy-duty flashlights. A loud rustling sounded to their right as they entered a clearing that ended in a rock-covered drop.

"Sam!" Dean bellowed as he brought his gun up in front of him, watching as a hairy, dark figure darted through the trees.

"I see it!" the younger Winchester shouted back as adrenaline raced through his veins.

Dean got off a shot that disappeared into the forest, missing the snarling werewolf completely. "Sam!" he shouted again, followed by a string of curses.

"Got it," Sam answered, his gaze narrowing as he aimed his gun at the snarling creature. He fired just as the werewolf moved. He thought he grazed the creature's arm, but he wasn't sure. The rain and the darkness made it impossible to see much of anything. The wind had started blowing the rain in their faces, and the fat, cold drops stung as they slapped against his skin.

Dean fired again, wounding the werewolf, and then let out a yell as the creature snatched him up and threw him. Dean rolled when he hit the ground and then disappeared over the edge of the rocks.

"Dean! No! Dean!" Sam yelled in terror, taking the werewolf down with a precisely aimed shot.

"Dean!" Sam screamed his brother's name again as the werewolf's body crumpled to the ground. The gun fell from his fingers and thudded into the dirt as he scrambled forward to the rocky drop-off where he'd seen his brother fall. "Dean!"

When there was no answer, Sam threw himself down on his stomach and peered over the edge. His brother was laying spread eagle on the ground, his face pale and his eyes closed. "Dean!"

The elder Winchester still did not stir. Sam knew it would take too much time to get back to the Impala for a rope so he began looking for a way to climb down to Dean. He picked his way frantically along the overhang until he found a place that was not quite as steep. As quickly as he dared, he half-climbed, half-slid down to the flat, rocky area where his brother had landed.

"Dean!" Sam hurried to his brother's side and took in his pale features. He had a bloody cut in his hairline above his temple. Carefully, Sam ran his hands over his brother's arms, legs, and torso checking for wounds and broken bones, but found none.

Gently, he slapped his brother's cool cheek. "Wake up, Dean," he ordered forcefully, frowning when his brother did not stir. Shoving Dean's coat to the side, he ran his knuckle down the elder Winchester's sternum.

Dean moaned softly.

"Dean, open your eyes," Sam commanded, repeating the motion. He watched as his brother's eyelids twitched.

Dean's head throbbed in time with the beat of his heart. He could hear the sounds of the forest around him and tried to place where he was. Slowly, his foggy thoughts began to clear. He and Sam had been hunting a werewolf. The creature had been stronger than they'd thought. He remembered the muscular hands grabbing him and the sensation of flying through the air. After that there had been an explosion of pain and then nothing.

"Dean, open your eyes," Sam pleaded as he used the edge of his shirt to wipe the blood from his brother's forehead.

Dean tried, but his eyelids were so heavy. "Ssss," was all he could manage of his brother's name. Finally, he managed to pry his eyes open. The full moon shone brightly overhead now and he could make out Sam's worried face hovering above him. The pain in his head intensified for a moment, and Dean slammed his eyes shut once more.

"Hey, stay with me," Sam encouraged him. "I need you to tell me what hurts."

Dean began to catalog his aches starting with his head. "H'dache," he slurred, blinking slowly.

Sam nodded. "Looks like you hit your head. What else?" He watched as Dean's eyes flew open in horror. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I can't feel my legs," Dean gasped. "Sam, I can't feel my legs!" Panic engulfed him as he reflexively moved to look down at the lower half of his body.

Although he was horrified at his brother's revelation, Sam moved quickly to grasp each side of Dean's face and hold his neck still. "Don't move, Dean. If you're back is injured, you don't want to make it worse."

"Sam," Dean gulped in terror, "you have to get help."

"I'm not leaving you," Sam insisted, still holding the sides of his brother's face as he shifted so that he was sitting above Dean's head and looking down at his brother. "I'll figure something out, but I'm not leaving you here alone like this."

The temperature was beginning to drop. Sam shivered as he considered their options. There was no way he was leaving his brother. "Dean, you have to stay still, all right? I'm going to get something out of my bag."

Letting go of Dean's face with one hand, he shrugged the pack off his back. Then replacing that hand on his brother's cheek, he repeated the same motion on his other side. Next, he placed one of his feet on the bag to hold it still and wrangled the zipper open to pull out a flare.

"How are you doing, Dean?" he asked, noticing that his breath fogged in the cold air.

"Cold, Sammy," Dean chattered in reply.

"Hold still; do not move your neck," Sam ordered his brother. He quickly slipped out of his jacket and stretched it carefully over his brother's torso.

"Put your jacket back on," Dean commanded in a shaky voice.

"You need it more than I do right now," Sam commented as he focused on the flare in his hands. "I'm going to signal for help with a flare. There's a ranger station close by. I saw it on the map. They should see the flare."

Both boys winced at the brightness of the flare as it rocketed into the night sky above them. "Help will be here soon," Sammy chattered as he blinked up into the sky that had clouded over once again as a drizzly rain began to fall once again.

"You should just leave me here, Sam. I'm of no use to you without my legs." Dean's voice was riddled with bitterness.

"You don't know that this is permanent," Sam forced out through chattering teeth. "We need to let the doctors look at you, and don't think for one second that I'm leaving." Sam fumbled with the flare gun. "I'll send up another soon to help the rangers find us. Now I have to go take care of the werewolf's body or we'll have a lot of explaining to do. Don't you dare move. "

"Yes, Dad," Dean grouched weakly.

Sam returned a while later, sweaty and panting. He'd never cleaned up a scene so quickly, but he'd been anxious to get back to his brother.

"Go on back to the car. You can get help. I'll be okay." Dean forced out through teeth that chattered in the chilly, damp air.

"If you think I'm going to leave you here, you hit your head harder than I thought," Sam grouched at his brother.

They drifted into silence. Sam rifled through his pack and sent up another flare. He wasn't sure how much time passed after that before he heard voices in the inky black forest. "Down here!" he shouted. "My brother fell. We're down here!"

"We're coming!" one of the voices answered, calm and reassuring. "Keep talking so we can pinpoint your location."

"My brother fell and hurt his back. He can't feel his legs." Sam's voice broke on the last word. He glanced down at his big brother. Dean had his eyes closed and his jaw set. Sam continued to hold his brother's head so that he wouldn't move his neck.

"We'll radio back to the station for assistance," the voice assured him as it steadily moved closer.

Sam heard a radio crackle to life and then a female voice began speaking in medical jargon and requested a helicopter and the supplies that would be needed to get Dean safely to a hospital without further injuring his back.

"They're almost here, Dean," he soothed, alarmed at the coolness of his brother's skin.

"Not flyin', Sammy," the eldest Winchester slurred. "No hel'copter."

"You need to get to a hospital quickly without further injury to your back. That's the only way, Dean," he encouraged.

The voices were much closer now. "Down here!" Sam shouted again.

A bright light shone over the drop and Sam winced as it hit his eyes.

"I'm Ranger Hawkes. I have Rangers Parker and Niles with me," the same man who spoke earlier said. "What are your names?"

"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean," Sam managed to choke out through chattering teeth.

"You said your brother has a back injury," Ranger Hawkes stated. "Any other injuries?"

"Um, he has a head wound, maybe a slight concussion," Sam ground out.

"And how are you, Sam?" the ranger asked.

"I'm okay. I climbed down. Please, just help my brother."

There was a rustling sound and then one ranger began to climb down the rocks safely hooked in a harness. Sam found himself looking into the face of a blonde man about 6 feet tall. "I'm Ranger Hawkes, Sam. Let me assess Dean while we wait for the chopper. It will be here at first light."

"I'm not flyin'," Dean insisted once again.

"We need some blankets down here," Ranger Hawkes bellowed.

Two thick blankets were immediately dropped over the edge. The ranger grabbed one and tucked it swiftly around Dean. The other he handed to Sam. "Put this around your shoulders. You don't want hypothermia."

"Dean, the best way to get you out of here without causing further injury to your back is to fly you out," Ranger Hawkes stated calmly.

"No," Dean replied stubbornly.

Sam bit his lip and sighed as worry churned in his gut. He had to convince Dean to get into that helicopter.

To Be Continued…