I do not own Supernatural or the Boys unless my dreams count…

This story is set sometime in season three. I don't think it really matters where though.

Shattered Glass

"Sammy please hang on, please…" Dean pleaded to his unconscious brother laying in his arms. "Help, will be here soon." Dean shook Sam gently trying to get him to respond. Sam eyes remained closed. He remained silent. "No, no, no, not again." Dean whispered pulling Sam to his chest. "Sam! Sam, I can't watch you die again. I-I can't. Hang on Sam please." Dean checked Sam for a pulse again. It was faint, weak but it was still there. "Hang on Sammy, please."

Earlier…

The brothers had caught wind of a poltergeist in a small town in Wisconsin. The spirit was haunting a nice two story house, terrorising a family with two small children that had moved in a little over three months ago. The whole family was petrified. After a few misunderstandings and a lot of persuasion the family had agreed to let Dean and Sam try to rid their new home of the angry violent spirit and gone to stay at a motel.

It was about four O'clock in the afternoon by the time the family finally left and Dean and Sam could get to work.

"Ok, watch yourself, you know how angry these bitches can be." Dean said as they entered the home, thinking back to how violent and angry the one had been back in Kansas in their old house a few years ago.

Sam rolled his eyes "I know Dean."

The brothers separated Sam heading upstairs and Dean started towards the kitchen. Dean had decided to take the kitchen this time like he had back then, it was one of the most dangerous rooms with all the sharp knifes that could be hurled at you. Dean's mind kept wondering back to Kansas and Missouri and his old house. Which led to thoughts of his mother and how she had destroyed herself to save them form the poltergeist. Dean hated thinking about that stuff and forced himself to stop, he had to move fast once the spirit knew what he was doing things were going to get ugly. Dean stoped when he got to the kitchen door holding the magic bags they had made earlier in his right hand. These better work better then they did back in Kansas Dean thought as he stuck them into his pocket. Dean turned from the kitchen doorway and went into the living room instead, twirling the small axe in his hand around, he decided to save the most deadly room for last. They needed to put the bags in the North, East, South and West walls of the house. The living room was large, almost the entire bottom story of the house. He could cover the North, South and West walls just from this room. The East wall was the kitchen. Dean could heard Sam start to bash a hole through the dry wall upstairs. Dean set to work himself. He used the small axe to create a hole in each wall. So far so good. Maybe it's asleep, maybe something will be easy for once Dean thought to himself. Dean shook his head. Sure Dean when has that ever happened.

Dean could still hear the faint sound of Sam hammering in the distance. It sounded like his brother was doing fine too. Dean walked into the kitchen and headed for the East wall. He made a hole above the sink counter. He set his axe down, before he had a chance to put the bag into the wall Dean felt something whiz by, uncomfortably close to his head. Landing millimetres away. It was a large knife that was now sticking out of the cupboard door. There was a rattle, Dean spun around just in time to see the contents of the whole cutlery draw fly towards him. Dean dropped to the ground as forks and knifes hit the cupboard with enough force to become stuck.

"Bring it Bitch." Dean said as he reached up and pushed his last bag into the hole. Dean waited hoping Sam was finished with his bags. But there was no flash of light. Instead a fry pan flew across the room narrowly missing Dean's head. Dean slid across the ground on his stomach "Come on Sammy, hurry." Dean said as he pulled himself into the pantry, shutting the door just as the massive kitchen table slammed into the wall and broke into pieces where he had been minutes before. Dean held onto the door pulling back onto the handle as hard as he could. The door shook violently with the poltergeist's rage. Food fell from the shelfs and splattered onto the ground around Dean. Dean screwed his face into a scowl, straining with the effort of keeping the door closed. Dean was concentrating on keeping the door closed until Sam was finished, not worrying about the things falling of the shelfs around him. He didn't see the large heavy glass baking dish moving closer and closer towards the edge of the top shelf. The relentless shaking caused it to finally fall over the edge, the dish hit Dean on the top of his head just above his right temple. Dean slumped into the door and then slid down to the floor unconscious.

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Sam had one more bag to go. The North wall. He knew he should be working faster but everything seemed calm and he kept getting caught up looking at the family photos that ran down the hallway. He kept stopping to fiddle with the children's toys in their bedroom. They had so much more then he and Dean ever did. Sam kept getting caught up looking at the things that represented a happy family, a family full of good memories. Full of normal memories. I don't want that type of normal life anymore Sam told himself I belong with Dean, Dean needs me and I have to save him. Sam wanted to be a hunter now and more then anything wanted to save Dean from his crossroad deal but every now and then his mind would wonder to thoughts of a 'normal' life.

Sam had been busy in the back rooms of the top floor, looking at the photos and toys and putting the bags in the East, South and West Walls. He'd been listening for trouble, but had only heard a little banging and assumed in was Dean making his holes Sam hadn't been to concerned. Now coming back heading towards the master bedroom Sam could hear a lot more noise crashing and rattling. Dean Sam hurried to the North wall in the master bedroom, the front of the house. He began to make the hole. The noise down stairs stopped. Sam paused for a second and then continued with the hole. Why didn't I work faster Sam berated himself what if Dean's hurt. Finally Sam had made a hole big enough to fit the bag. Before Sam could push the bag through the hole, a draw went sailing across the room nailing Sam in the back. Sam felt the sharp pain as the corner made contact. The force knocked Sam to the floor onto his hands and knees. Sam groaned and turned just in time to see three more draws being hurled in his direction. Sam ducked and rolled out of the way just as they hit the wall splintering everywhere. Sam reached for last the bag that he'd dropped during the attack. Sam attention was on getting the bag into the hole, he didn't notice the large glass cabinet that held all sort of knickknacks and breakables sway. It toppled over onto Sam's back pining him to the floor. The sound of the glass doors shattering and the breakables smashing filled the room. Sam felt a sharp pain slice through his left side. Have to finish. Sam reached, the pain from his side ripped through him. Using the tips of his fingers Sam pushed the last bag through the hole. A blinding white light filled the house and then it was silent. Sam stayed perfectly still waiting. When he was sure it was safe he slowly pulled himself out from under the shattered glass, the pain sliced deeper. When Sam was free form the cabinet he looked at his left side. His dark blue shirt was soaked with blood, a shard of glass protruding from his side. " Great." Sam said out loud.

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Slowly Dean regained consciousness. Everything seemed slightly fuzzy. Where am I. Slowly it came back to him, Dean remembered why he was laying in a pantry surrounded by spilt food. Dean looked at the shattered glass baking dish on the ground next to him. "Stupid piece of crap!" He said kicking it away. Dean's head hurt bad. "Son of a…" Dean muttered as he pulled himself up on the door handle. Sam Dean thought as he eased the door open slowly checking before leaving the protection of the small room. Everything seemed quiet, calm. Sam must have finished the job. Dean wondered into the hallway still slightly dazed. Sam was making his way slowly down the stairs. When Sam got to the bottom Dean noticed that his brother looked really pale. Dean opened his mouth to ask Sam if he was Ok. Before Dean could get the words out the whole house began to shake. "Is it back!" Dean shouted above the rumble. Sam shrugged slightly. The jolting was making his side hurt worse. The walls bowed in and out, the floor quaked. Pictures fell from the walls and crashed to the ground. The mammoth sized book shelf that covered most of the hallway wall began to sway. The house continued to vibrate roughly. The shelf tipped heading straight for Sam. Sam stood stunned. He didn't make a move. Without thinking Dean dove, knocking his brother clear, but at the same time pushing them both through the open basement door. They tumbled roughly down the staircase. Both boys landed heavily at the bottom and remained still. The ground was still shaking.

Finally the shaking stopped. Dean and Sam stayed still. Dean felt stunned from the fall, from bumping his head again. It was dark in the basement only a trickle of light being let in from two small windows. Dean wasn't looing so he didn't see the grimace of pain that crossed Sam's face before he got it under control. The force of being knocked over and the tumble down the stairs had pushed the glass further into Sam.

"What the hell?" Dean said from his position on the cement floor.

" Earthquake." Sam offered softly.

"Oh Crap!" Dean said sitting up.

Sam slowly, very slowly moved himself into sitting position stifling a groan as he followed Deans gaze up the stairway. "Crap."

The basement doorway wasn't there anymore it was completely blocked. Great panic started to flicker in Sam's chest. His wound was pretty bad and from the looks of it they were stuck. Sam pulled his jacket over covering his side grateful for the lack of light. He didn't want Dean to know he was hurt until they had a way out, Sam didn't want him to worry. Dean stood and made his way up the stairs. He tried to move some of the rubble but it wouldn't budge.

"Damn it." He yelled. Dean started back down the stairs.

The house began to shake again. Dean lost his balance and fell down the last couple of steps and landed in a heap at the bottom. "For freaking crying out loud." Dean said as he stood again "What now."

"After shock?" Sam said softly.

Dean looked at Sam more closely hearing the faintness of Sam's voice, noting that he hadn't made a move to get up and remembering how pale he looked earlier. Sam concentrated really hard on looking normal under Deans gaze.

" You hurt, why haven't you moved?" Dean asked concerned.

"No," Sam said forcing himself to his feet using all his strength to keep his face expressionless, "You just pushed me down the stairs Dean. I needed a minute." Sam replied a hint of anger in his voice. He wasn't mad at Dean but he was trying to deflect Deans concern. Sam wasn't sure what to do. If Dean knew how bad he was hurt he'd worry and feel guilty and there was nothing he could really do. They didn't have their first aid kit or anything. No it' s better to wait, not to tell Dean until there was something he could actually do.

"Sorry, just trying to save your life." Dean replied annoyance in his voice. He couldn't understand why Sam seemed annoyed at him, sure falling down the stairs was no picnic but he'd been through worse, it was better then being squished by a giant book case.

Sam walked stiffly over to an old wooden table and chair set and sat down. He turned so his left side was hidden form view. Sam slowly pressed his right hand under his jacket and over the wound letting the glass stick through his fingers, trying to control the ooze of blood. It hurt like hell but it was better then bleeding out. Dean noticed how stiffly Sam had moved and felt a twinge of guilt twist his heart Maybe I did hurt him. Dean was about to ask his brother about it again when he caught sight of Sam's pouty don't talk to me right now face and decided it was best to leave it for now. So instead he pulled out his phone and dialled Bobby's number.

Dean couldn't get reception no matter where he stood in the basement. Sam watched from his spot at the table as Dean paced back and forth, up and down the dark room. Dean stood on an old chest that was under one of the small windows he pushed until the window opened. There was no way he would fit through the window a kid wouldn't even fit through there He thought. Dean stuck his arm out holding his phone but it wouldn't connect. Dean jumped down irritated. Sam was sitting quietly at the table.

"Try your phone." Dean asked.

Sam reached into his pocket with his left hand intent on keeping his features neutral. Sam pulled it out and looked at the phone in his left hand "It's broken." He pushed the on button but the phone wouldn't work.

Dean came over to see for himself, taking the phone from Sam, he swore silently to himself seeing the cracked screen he tried pushing the buttons anyway but the phone was dead. Dean slammed the phone down on the table frustrated. Then he spun on his heel and went back to the open window. Dean peered out, from what Dean could see he thought the window faced the backyard and no one was around. Dean yelled out anyway "Hey, any one out there were trapped!" Dean got no answer. Dean tried again but all he could here was the wind blowing through the trees. Dean went over to the other window which faced the side of the house. He stood on an old desk and yelled out but still got no response. Sam was glad Dean was distracted trying to get out because he was starting to feel quit dizzy and faint. He was losing too much blood. He hoped help would come soon or that Dean would find a way out, Sam knew he couldn't hide this from Dean much longer. Not the way he was feeling. Dean's gonna be pissed I hid it, I hate making him worry, his got enough to worry about. Sam thought trying his hardest to resist the urge to rest his head on the wooden table.

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Over half an hour had passed since the earthquake, Dean kept yelling out the window and trying his phone to no avail every few minutes, he even tried digging through the rubble that blocked the door again but it wouldn't budge. Is everyone in the damn town trapped he thought angrily. I knew it wouldn't be easy, there always something. Dean felt tired and mad and his head was pounding from that stupid baking dish. He was getting a little pissed at Sam too, he was just sitting at he table where he'd planted himself and hadn't moved. Dean sat down on a chair adjacent to Sam at the table. "Thanks for your help dude."

Sam was sitting slightly hunched over, his head propped up on his left hand. Hugging his left side with his right. Sam didn't even look up he just grunted in response as he tried desperately to stay conscious. Dean looked closer at his little brother in the dim light. Dean noticed that he seemed even paler, and how Sam seemed like he was trying too hard to pretend he was ok when he obviously wasn't.

"Sammy, you hurt yourself when we fell, did I hurt you?" Dean asked putting a hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam shook his head slightly "No."

"Does your side hurt?" Dean went on not believing when Sam said no. While silently berating himself in his head when it was obvious Sam had been in pain this whole time. Damn it Dean Sam is obviously hurt and you've been to busy to even notice.

Sam just shook his head. Feeling weak and sick from blood loss.

Dean dropped to his knees in front of Sam, and gently moved Sam's jacket away from his left side. Sam didn't try to stop him, he didn't have the energy now. Dean pushed the table away to let some light fall on Sam so he could get a better look. Dean drew in air sharply as he took in the shard of glass protruding from his brothers side, how Sam's shirt was made even darker from his blood. How Sam had been trying to stop the bleeding with his hand. Dean felt panic start to build in his chest. "Sam you've been sitting here bleeding this whole time with a piece of glass sticking out of you and you didn't tell me!" Dean practically shouted.

Sam looked at Dean glassy eyed. "I-I didn't want you to worry about me." Sam said barely above a whisper.

"Frigging Hell Sam!" Dean said franticly scanning the room for a way out that he'd somehow missed before or something to help. "You know it's my job to look after my pain in the ass little brother." Dean said as he tried to calculate how long Sam had been bleeding out for and how much longer he could hold out.

"Sorry…" Sam whispered.

Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder gently and took another look at Sam's injury. The glass looked fairly deep. Dean begged silently that it hadn't pierced any of Sam's organs. Dean pulled out his phone and tried gain but nothing, he got up and went to the windows again and yelled louder, as loud as he could. Still no one responded. Sam slumped in the seat, now barely conscious.

"Oh Come on!" Dean yelled spinning around trying to figure out what to do. Then he spotted an old mattress leaning on the far wall. Dean dragged it over near Sam. He opened the old chest that he'd stood on earlier hoping there would be something of use inside. It was filled with old blankets and one old sheet. "Yahtzee." Dean said out loud. Then he laid one of the blankets over the old mattress. Next he ripped the sheet into strips and fashioned the strips into a donut bandage. Standing Dean looked around the room for something that he could used to secure the bandage in place. He caught sight of a roll of duct tape out of the corner of his eyes sitting on the desk under the side window. Dean grabbed that sitting it down on the table. He gently lifted Sam under his arms.

"Sammy, I want you to lay over here ok, I'm gonna take care of ya. It'll be ok." Dean said as he guided Sam over to the mattress.

Sam nodded. He felt faint, Dean sounded far away now. He let Dean manoeuvre him onto the mattress. Sam whimpered in pain as Dean lay him down on the mattress. Dean knelt down beside Sam and gently rolled Sam so he was resting mostly on his right side rather then his back so not to push the glass in further. Dean pushed Sam's jacket aside. The shirt will have to stay I'll do more harm then good puling it off the glass Dean thought as he placed the donut banged over the glass as gently as possible, Sam moaned again.

"Sorry Sammy, I need to stop the bleeding you've lost a lot of blood already." Dean said softly. Blinking back the tears that had started to build and were threatening to escape.

Dean did the best he could to use the tape to secure the bandage to Sam's shirt. But the shirt was wet from Sam's blood. Dean knew it would have been better to wrap Sam's torso leaving a gap for the glass, to secure the bandage in place but he didn't have any sheets left and he didn't think Sam had the strength to sit now any way.

When Dean was done attending to Sam's wound, or at least as done as he could be he placed his hand on Sam forehead. Sam felt clammy and he was shaking.

"Cold…" Sam mumbled.

Dean stood and grabbed another blanket from the chest and coved Sam being careful to miss the glass. Sam was slowly losing consciousness.

Dean knelt back down next to Sam "Sam, Sam you gotta stay awake for me man, Sam."

Sam eyes flickered open. Sam couldn't focus. Dean seemed blurry.

Dean smiled reassuringly. "Help will be here soon. That family will be back, they know we're here." Dean said trying to comfort himself with those words as much as he was Sam.

"…eah," Sam said trying to smile "I'll…ok."

Sam was speaking so softly now Dean could hardly hear him.

Stay awake Sam, be strong Sam, you'll make it Sam told himself Dean sold his soul for you, you can't leave him, he needs you here to save him. Sam could feel himself sinking farther and farther into blackness. He heard Dean but he sounded so far away now.

"Sam, o-open your eyes, c-come on you big jerk." Dean said trying to get through to Sam by using his own oddly affectionate nickname, panicked now that he couldn't get Sam to open his eyes. A few tears escaped Dean's own eyes. He didn't make a move to brush them away. His little brother his sole focus. He checked Sam for a pulse terrified Sam had already left him. He found it and a small amount of relief washed through him.

Sam felt Dean's figures on his neck trying to find his pulse "Bitch…" Sam whispered back just like Dean would have, letting his brother know he could hear him before the blackness finally swallowed him completely.

Dean pulled his brother into his arms "Sammy please hang on, please… Help, will be here soon." Dean shook Sam gently trying to get him to respond. Sam eyes remained closed. He remained silent. "No, no, no, not again." Dean whispered pulling Sam to his chest. "Sam! Sam, I can't watch you die again. I-I can't. Hang on Sam please." Dean checked Sam for a pulse again. It was still faint, weak but it was there. "Hang on Sammy, please."

Will help come in time? Will Sam be saved?

Should I continue?

Do you like?

Please review and let me know.