Well, look at me! I'm posting a new Three Brothers story! I was beginning to wonder if this would ever happen...as I know some of you have been wondering as well. So...a long time ago a reader asked me if someday I could do a Danny hides an injury story...I'm sorry, but I can't remember who the reader was, but I never forgot the request...and I have thought about it and thought about it and thought about it and finally had a story pop into my head. This will be a short story...two, maybe three chapters. There is hurt Sammy, because well, come on, it's me and I can't write a Supernatural story without hurting Sam, even a little bit. Secretively hurt Danny (because sometimes big brothers are stupid)...worried brother Dean and worried/mad daddy John. So, without further ado...here you go!

Daniel 19 years old

Dean 18 years old

Sam 14 Years old

Sometimes Big Brothers are Stupid

"Stay awake, Sammy…don't close your eyes on me," Daniel pleaded as he leaned over his kid brother, brown eyes filled with worry and fear. He held Sam's hand in his, rubbing it, firmly, yet gently to keep the boy grounded, and most importantly, awake.

The entire right side of Sam's face was coated with blood, the red, sticky fluid hiding the blossoming bruises that were forming from the teen's unexpected collision with a nearby tree. His disheveled hair was also matted with blood from the deep split in the large lump that arose just above his temple. His eyes were mere slits as he looked up at his brother and he frowned weakly when he thought he saw tears spilling from the older teen's eyes.

"'s okay, Danny…'m okay," Sam whispered, the boy willfully opening his eyes further to prove to his brother that he was fine.

Daniel smiled fondly down at his brother and nodded his head. "I know, squirt…you're fine, but just humor me and keep those eyes open, okay? Dad and Dean will find us soon, then we can all get out of these God forsaken woods," he said, his gaze shifting from his brother to the smoldering body of the wendigo some fifteen feet away. How Sam had managed to shoot off his flare after being knocked senseless by the creature was beyond Daniel, but he was more than grateful to his little brother because if Sam hadn't gotten off that shot, Daniel would in all likelihood be wendigo food by now.

Daniel returned his gaze to his brother to find the boy still awake, albeit barely. He renewed his efforts of rubbing Sam's hand to keep him awake while he looked around, hoping to see his father and brother come charging through the trees at any moment. The group had split up two hours ago in hopes of bettering their chances of finding the murderous monster, but now all Daniel wanted was to see his other family members so they could get Sam the help that he so obviously needed. After five more minutes of waiting, Daniel was ready to lift his brother up and carry him through the woods back to the car so he could get him to a hospital. His father and brother would just have to wait for him to come back for them. Just as he started to stand, he heard the sound of someone, or something, crashing through the trees. He moved around Sam, placing himself between the barely conscious teen and the trees where the crashing was coming from, then he readied his own flare on the off chance that there was more than one wendigo in the forest. He blew out a relieved breath when his father and brother broke through the treeline, their weapons drawn and matching looks of terror on their faces. They took one look at Daniel, then Sam, and both Winchesters were running at full speed toward them.

Dean immediately dropped down next to Sam while John stopped first in front of Daniel, his dark eyes taking in his eldest son's pale face and the tear tracks on his cheeks. "I'm fine, Dad...it's Sammy who needs help," Daniel said, the young man turning to look down at his younger brothers. He smiled slightly as he watched Dean fussing over their youngest. John nodded then moved around Daniel to ease down on Sam's other side. He checked his son over, noting the lump and cut on his head and coming to the obvious conclusion that the boy was suffering from a concussion. Also of note was the shredded left sleeve of his jacket. Small amounts of blood stained the sliced material and upon further inspection, shallow claw marks were found on Sam's bicep.

"These aren't too deep," John said, mostly to himself. "May not even require stitches."

Sam looked up at his father upon hearing his voice, his eyes wide, but noticeably out of focus. John smiled as he took his youngest's hand. "Hey, kiddo…looks like you took quite the spill," John said softly said. "We're going to get you out of here, okay?" he added.

"'k," Sam breathed out. "'m sorry, Dad," he said as his father prepared to lift him from the ground.

"Hey…don't you apologize for anything, Sammy. If it weren't for you, I'd be toast. You did good," Daniel said as he knelt to help his father and brother lift the youngest Winchester. Sam gave his brother a weak grin, before groaning in pain as he was carefully lifted from the ground.

Once Sam was safely in John's arms, Dean moved over to the still smoldering wendigo and kicked it lightly with the toe of his boot. He glanced over at his family as Daniel gathered he and Sam's packs. "So, what happened here?" he asked as he moved back toward his family.

Daniel shrugged the packs onto his shoulders and looked at his brother. "We had stopped here and were listening when all of the sudden the wendigo burst through the trees. Before I even knew what was happening, Sammy was flying through the air. He hit the tree and then the bastard was on me. I really thought I was a goner, but then I heard this woosh and the wendigo lit up. It dropped me and…and the sound it made. I don't know, but…somehow Sammy shot it with his flare. I don't know how he did it…he hit that tree hard…but he did it. He saved me," Daniel explained, his eyes moving down to his little brother's face. He frowned when he saw Sam's eyes closed, his mouth slightly ajar.

John followed Daniel's gaze and found that his youngest had slipped into unconsciousness. He leant his ear down to Sam's face then looked up at the expectant gazes of Dean and Daniel. "His breathing is fine. He's just worn out. Let's get him back to the hotel so I can clean up his head and his arm. He'll need stitches in…"

"Whoa, wait, Dad…we're not taking him to the hospital?" Daniel cried.

John started moving toward the trees, his two older sons falling in beside him. "He doesn't need a hospital, Danny. He just needs to be cleaned up and stitched. His concussion isn't that bad," he replied.

"But, Dad…he's unconscious," Dean said, his green eyes filled with worry.

"He's sleeping," John snapped as he hurried through the forest. "Look, boys…I get that you're worried, I'm worried too, but I've seen enough concussions to know that this is a mild one. I would really rather not have to explain his injuries…to the doctors or the police," he explained.

"But…" Daniel started, only to be cut off with one quick glance from his father.

"If his condition worsens, then we will take him to the hospital, but I really believe that he is just exhausted more than anything. You said it yourself, Danny. He didn't lose consciousness when he hit the tree. He had enough wits about him to aim his flare and shoot the wendigo and he was awake when we got to you two. I'll get him cleaned and stitched and I'll keep a very close eye on him. He'll be fine, I promise," John said. He gave his son a slight grin before picking up his pace. Within twenty minutes they broke through the trees and came to the road that they had driven in on. John turned to his right and followed the road until ten more minutes had passed and they came to the pull out where they had parked the impala. He hurried to the car, Dean right on his tail, and leaned up against the black car with a tired sigh, Sam still held tightly, yet gently, in his arms. He frowned slightly as he watched Daniel slowly make his way toward them while Dean dug in his jacket pocket for the keys. The middle brother was unlocking the doors as Daniel finally made it to where John stood.

"You alright, Danny?" John asked as he shifted his youngest son in his arms and eyed his eldest son's pale face critically.

Daniel pulled up at the back of the car and rested one hand on the trunk lid as he leaned forward, his breaths coming in harsh pants. He looked up at his father and nodded. "I'm fine, Dad…just worn out from everything. Let's get Sammy back to the motel so you can take a better look at him," he said before pushing up from the car and watching as his father nodded slightly then moved around the car to carefully guide Sam into the backseat and Dean's open arms. Daniel took the moment to discreetly pull his jacket open and look down at his stomach. He took in a deep breath to calm his breathing then wrapped the jacket protectively around himself before rushing to climb into the front passenger seat at his father's impatient call. He sighed when he pulled the door shut and eased back into the seat. He closed his eyes as he rested his head back and smiled lightly when he heard the engine roar to life. He was awakened some time later when John patted his arm and indicated that they were at the motel. He slowly folded himself out of the seat and stood shakily beside the car as John came around the back of the car and eased Sam, who had awakened at some point, from the back seat. He watched in a fog as Dean piled out and the three Winchesters moved to their room door.

"Danny! Hurry up…you have the key!" Dean called, his green eyes narrowing as he watched his older brother stumble slightly as he moved forward to unlock the door.

A moan from Sam distracted Dean from his older brother and his worry was all but forgotten as they rushed into the room, John carefully depositing Sam on the bed and barking orders before the door was even shut. Dean began to help John undress Sam while Daniel was trusted to gather the first aid kit, wash cloths and water from the bathroom. As Daniel hurried to gather all that was needed, John moved to look in Sam's eyes, the tired man whispering to his son as he moved his attention to the wound on his head as Dean pulled the boots from Sam's feet.

"Just as I thought…he has just a slight concussion. A few stitches will close the cut on his head then I can get his arm cleaned up and see what needs to be done there," John said as he reached for the water and wash cloths that Daniel had set on the nightstand. "Danny, grab me a chair from the table…this old back can't take this leaning over the edge of the bed crap," John instructed, his eyes remaining on his youngest's face as he cleaned the dirt and blood away while Dean sat on the other side of the bed holding Sam's hand in his own. When no chair appeared, both John and Dean looked up to find Daniel standing at the end of the bed, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Danny?" Dean queried as he slowly stood up and took a step toward his brother. "What's wrong?"

Daniel slowly moved his gaze to his brother and opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could escape, his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped forward, Dean's quick actions and strong arms the only thing keeping the eldest Winchester sibling from hitting the floor. "Danny! What the hell!" Dean cried as he gently eased his brother to the carpet. "Dad! What's wrong with him!?"

John put the wet cloth down and hurried to where his sons were huddled on the floor, Daniel's head pillowed on Dean's lap. He dropped to the floor and immediately placed his fingers at Daniel's neck, a relieved sigh escaping when a strong, steady pulse was felt. He glanced up when he heard movement from the bed and found that Sam was trying to rise to see what was happening, a look of worry on his bruised face.

"Sam, lie back down," John barked before turning back to Daniel.

"But, Dad…"

"Lie back down! I won't have two sons sprawled on the floor!"

Sam bit back a reply and eased back down onto the bed, though he turned so he could somewhat see what was happening. John nodded then began his examination of his oldest son. There was no bump on his head so a concussion was ruled out. As John moved down his body, he pulled Daniel's jacket open and sucked in a startled breath. Blood soaked the young man's sweater and undershirt, as well as the front of his dark jeans. When John pulled up the shirts he nearly cried out in dismay. Dean, on the other hand, couldn't contain his shock.

"Oh my God!" the middle brother cried. "Danny…"

Danny, Danny, Danny...you are the big brother, you're supposed to be smarter than this. What has the eldest brother gotten himself into? Hmmm...check back in to find out. And please, if you could be so kind, leave me a comment to let me know how I'm doing. Or to give me a good tongue lashing for taking so long to get back to our brothers! Take care and thanks for reading!

Cindy