Hi guys! This is another one of those that I wrote and posted quickly while I had the nerve. There may be errors. I am not a medical professional, or an author… so… read at your own risk. Reviews are appreciated, but I have thin skin, be gentle please!

This takes place just after the season 5 finale…

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Finding Sam under the streetlight was the greatest gift Dean could ever have asked to receive. His Sam was back. Sure, Sam had been to hell and back – but so had Dean. They could handle anything as long as they were together.

They were back to being themselves, just Sam and just Dean. Sam was demon-blood free as well as Lucifer-free. Dean had never been taken over by Michael. They weren't special to the "powers-that-be" anymore. They were normal, as if that word meant anything. Unfortunately, normality has its drawbacks. One being, that they were only human again. They could be hurt, they could be killed. So here Dean sits, beside Sammy's hospital bed, begging his brother to open his eyes.

"Sam", Dean whispers one more time – as if this time may make a difference, this time Sam may actually hear him.

Dean sighs and leans his head back onto the hard, hospital chair. Sam is in the ICU, with a severe concussion and burns over half of his body. Evidently, one of Zachariah's lackeys thought it was appropriate to "Molotov his brother with holy fire". Call it karma, call it coincidence, call it payback. Whatever it was, it sucks. Both Dean and Sam thought they were through with angels. Too bad no one gave this guy the memo. They were on a simple salt and burn in Lincoln, Nebraska when "stunt angel 5" came after Sam. It happened in slow-motion, as far as Dean was concerned. One minute they were standing over the grave fire and the next, he was trying to put out a fire that was consuming Sam. During the rescue, Sam had tripped and fallen on the sharp corner of an old headstone. After putting out the fire, Dean promptly took care of the angel, happy that he kept that special sword. He's also thought, over the last week, that perhaps the head-injury has been a blessing in disguise. When the doctors and nurses come into Sammy's room to change the dressings on his burns, Sam is blissfully unaware.

Sam's burns were limited to his legs and part of his stomach. The smell was the worst part. Dean couldn't get over the fact that the smell of burning flesh was coming from his little brother. And yeah, Sam did look little right now. He was in a hospital bed long enough for his height and had lost weight over the last few days.

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Day 8 finds Dean in the same spot, sitting next to Sam. The doctors assure him that Sam is getting better; he should be waking up any time now. This news has Dean both elated and terrified. Will Sam be coming back to a world of pain? That question was about to answer itself.

The first thing Dean noticed was a change in Sam's breathing, faster more… urgent. The next thing he knows, Sam is writhing around on the bed, screaming.

Dean is immediately by his side, screaming out to anyone that will listen "I need help in here!"

"Sam, Sam listen to me. It's okay buddy. They're coming. They're going to give you some good meds and you won't feel a thing."

Sam doesn't seem to hear Dean. He is too busy feeling every inch of his legs and stomach burning all over again.

Thank God the doctor runs in and immediately pushes something into Sam's IV. Catching his breath, he looks at Dean. "Did he say anything?"

"No Doc, he was too busy screaming his freaking head off! I thought his pain was being controlled!" Dean was seething.

"Dean I understand your frustration. It is almost impossible to gauge pain in someone who is unconscious. Unfortunately, this had to happen. Hopefully Sam won't remember waking up." Doctor Stratman smiled sadly at Dean. "I'll be back soon to discuss Sam's treatment."

Dean sat back down next to Sam and ran his hand through Sam's hair. He wanted to comfort his brother, even in a small way. Dean knew that burns were painful. He wished that Sam didn't have to go through this. Hadn't they been through enough?

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Dean did everything he could to keep Sam's attention away from the clock. It was a futile effort however; Sam knew that bandage changes happened about an hour after lunch. They had been at the hospital for two weeks now. Sam was getting better, but the pain from the burns was unimaginable. They had a routine down now, however silly it may have seemed to an outsider.

As soon as the nurses walk into the room with their cart, Dean stands by Sam's head and tilts his head up so he is looking only at Dean. Sam's eyes fill with fear and pain. Dean takes both of Sam's hands in his and keeps fierce eye contact.

"Let's breathe Sam."

As soon as the nurses pull the first bandage off, hot tears pour down Sam's face. "Dean…" Sam begs Dean with his eyes to make it stop.

"Okay Sammy. Remember when we were kids and dad had that case up in Ohio, by Lake Erie?" Dean stares intently in Sam's eyes, doing everything he can to take Sam somewhere else.

Sam nods shakily. "Do you remember how on the days Dad was out, we would walk along the beach? We learned the hard way that first day that we needed shoes. That beach was less sand and more broken shells!" Dean smiles as best he can. "We walked for so long that we ended up on private beaches along some rich people's houses. We coulda robbed them blind!"

Sam was trying so hard to relive the memories with Dean, only to be brought back with a vengeance as each old bandage was removed. He tried to match Dean's breathing, knowing he could count on his big brother to get him through this. Sam choked back a laugh and a cry, thinking about how Dean only called him "buddy" when he was hurt.

"Come on buddy, stay with me here." Dean was so focused on Sam that it always took them both by surprise when the nurses announced they were finished. The pain medicine was finally kicking in, just barely doing the job during the procedure itself. Sam's eyes got very heavy.

"Don't fight it buddy. Go to sleep Sam." Dean sensed Sam calming.

"Don' wanna sssleep. De… I jus'… I wanna go. Take me outta here…." This was one of the many parts Dean hated; emotional, medicated Sammy. Sam often begged Dean to take him away. Dean tried to reassure him that he needed Sam to get better and in order to do so, he needed to be in the hospital.

"De… please. Please. Wanna go…" Sam's tear-filled eyes slid closed.

It took everything he had not to punch a hole in the wall of the hospital. Instead, Dean tugged at his own hair and sat down in his chair with a huff. It didn't matter that Sam was a man now, or that they had both been to hell and back. This was a new kind of hell, one that they couldn't be pulled out of.

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A few weeks and skin-grafts later, Dean was finally taking Sam home (by home, meaning Bobby's). Sam was laid out in the back of the Impala, full of pain meds. Luckily Lincoln was not far from Sioux Falls. Dean managed to get Sam there in a few hours. About a half-hour outside of town, Dean dosed Sam with meds again, knowing the trip into Bobby's house wasn't going to be a fun one.

Dean pulled up outside Bobby's slowly and as gently as possible. Bobby wouldn't have thought it possible, but was aware of the precious cargo. Dean smiled sadly at Bobby, "hey old man."

"Hey yourself. You're one to talk. You look like you've aged a decade." Bobby walked toward the back of the car. "I've got a bed set up in the library, that way he won't have to climb stairs."

"Thanks Bobby. It means a lot." Dean smiled as Bobby gruffly shrugged him off.

Dean carefully opened the back door and caught Sam by the shoulders. "Hey buddy, we're here." Dean almost whispered.

Sam groaned and raised his head. He looked at Dean and then at Bobby with sad eyes. "Hi Bobby".

"Hi kid, let's get ya inside." Bobby stood aside to help wherever he could.

Dean pulled Sam out by grabbing under his arms. Sam's weak and pain-filled legs and stomach awoke at the movement. Sam's breathing increased so much that Dean had to tell him to calm down. "Bud, you're going to hyperventilate. Let's slow down, Sam."

Just as they had at the hospital, Sam looked into Dean's eyes and breathed with him. Before he knew it, Sam was standing between Dean and Bobby with an arm over each of their shoulders. He was grateful; he was so full of meds that he would definitely fall over, not to mention the fact that he was weak as a newborn foal.

Slowly, but surely, they got Sam into the house and onto his bed. He sighed as Dean handed him another pain pill, knowing he really needed it.

Once Sam was sleeping peacefully, Dean unloaded the car and came and sat in the library. Bobby had gone into town to get dinner and calamine lotion. The pain pills were making Sam itchy and the last thing he needed was more skin irritants.

Watching Sam sleep felt as natural as watching television, these days. Dean kneeled by the bed as Sam slowly woke. "Need anything?"

Sighing, Sam shook his head. "No, m'fine. Glad to be here."

"Yeah," Dean grinned, "Bobby's place is… homey."

Sam smiled, "so what now?"

Looking around the room, Dean stopped and met Sam's eyes. "Now we get you better. We're both on our ninth life Sammy. This is it. We've gotta take care of ourselves and each other."

Sniffing away tears Sam spoke, "I never thought I'd hear you say anything like that again Dean. That alone is worth dyin' for."

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam shrugged, "you know what I mean. Thanks… for being here Dean."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else Sammy." Having had enough of this discussion Dean slapped his hands on his knees and stands up straight. "So, what say you buddy? Need more meds?"

Sam's eyes were already sliding closed as he shook his head no. "mmmm. Dean?"

"Yeah bud?"

"Promise me one thing", Sam said sleepily.

"Anything."

"When this is all over… never, ever call me 'buddy' again, 'k?" Sam was asleep in seconds.

Dean laughed quietly and pulled the soft blanket over his brother. He hadn't even realized what he was doing, until Sam brought it to his attention.

"Promise", Dean said quietly and that was a promise that Dean intended to keep, no matter what.