I don't know, it's long maybe that will make up for the wait.

Xx

Seven days passed before Meyer deemed Sam healthy enough to get out of bed for more than the occasional trip to the bathroom. To say Sam was happy about the new status would be a serious understatement - no one and nothing could swipe the earsplitting grin off his face. Even as he laboriously clambered up the rickety flight of stairs from the basement, still weak and unsteady after his days restricted to the mattress, while Dean hovered overprotectively.

"Okay just take it slow Sammy, it's not a race." Dean quietly assured, eyes on Sam's feet and his own hands, securely gripping Sam's waist and under his belly as they slowly climbed the wooden steps.

"Dean, we go any slower and termites will eat through the boards 'for we make it to the top." Sam quipped, though the soft airy lilt to his words eliminated most of his right to judge their speed.

"Yeah, yeah, just focus on your feet Armstrong," Dean retorted, keeping his focus on Sam's sluggish progress.

"Tha's biking Dean." Sam slurred through his heavy breath.

"Whatever dude." He waved off dismissively.

Sam's breaths were quick and short but measured as he slowly got his aching muscles to focus and get him level on the ground floor. He let out a heavy sigh as he made the last step and looked around the house he felt he'd been estranged from for centuries. His legs were shaking and his head was lightly throbbing to the beat of his heart but still, nothing could quench his gratitude for finally being let out of bed again.

"Come on, let's sit and I can get some lunch going." Dean said, leading Sam's weak and faintly quaking body over to the kitchen table. Sam didn't even protest being waited on, too happy to argue with his brother about the overbearing care.

"Okay, but right after, shower. I friggin' smell dude." Sam said, shaking his head, "Too many days in a bed."

Dean chuckled, "Yeah alright," He agreed as he pulled out the ingredients for grilled cheese, "but a bath, no more showers." He added as a side note, his attention elsewhere as Sam's gaze lowered, his face falling almost indiscernibly before he nodded.

"Sammy," Dean warned, "Don't go doin' the whole, emo brooding thing again," He said waving his hand in Sam's general direction, "We've been over this. It wasn't your fault, let it go." He admonished as he slid a thin layer of butter over two slices of toast, waiting for the skillet to warm.

Sam sighed and looked back at his brother, shooting him a small smile before nodding, "Yeah," He agreed, "Don't worry, no more showers." He said with agreeable acceptance, his smile turning genuine as Dean grinned back.

"Just means some hot bath sex for us Sammy." Dean said, waggling his eyebrows as he slapped the greased slices of bread onto the pan.

Sam barked a laugh, "God Dean, that would be the first thing you think of." He shook his head, thankful that both other occupants of the house had left to shop for groceries and other supplies after giving Sam the green light to leave his bed.

Dean shrugged, "Of course." He smirked, "Plus it's one of the only places I haven't done it – besides a plane and the Impala." He explained as if that made it perfectly logical. Sam laughed harder.

"You've never done it in the Impala?" Sam asked a moment later once his cackling died down, disbelief inflecting his voice. Dean looked at him over his shoulder, shook his head 'no' like it should've been obvious.

"'Course not Sam, that baby's the only home we got – that's ours at least." He shrugged, "Wasn't about to taint somethin' like that with a mindless hook-up." Dean added absentmindedly.

Sam crooked a smile at his brother's back, watching him flip their sandwiches before he moved to grab a can of tomato soup. He huffed a soundless laugh and his smile grew to a full-blown beam – Dean was always surprising him.

Sam rushed them through lunch after that; ready for the promised bath awaiting them once they finished.

He tried to hurry them up the stairs too, but as Dean had control over their pace they still progressed like old women with bad hips.

Dean swallowed hard and tensed as they finally crossed the threshold of the small bathroom, just as he had every other time he'd been forced to enter since Sam had taken his infamous fall in the tub. The flashbacks were quick and shocking and left him queasy and aching for his brother.

He quickly moved into Sam's arms, trying to mask the desperation of his actions as he buried his face into Sam's shoulder and circled his hands over his back, as if trying to assure himself that every fiber was still intact.

Sam picked up on the reason for his brother's unease and returned the embrace without hesitation. His fingers spread over the back of Dean's head, playing with smooth strands of hair as he held his brother close. He couldn't imagine what it must've been like to walk in on what he did – to see his unconscious body sprawled in a puddle of blood. He cringed at the mental image.

Dean stepped away after a handful of haunting seconds and looked Sam hard in the eye, pressing forward roughly to connect their lips, his mouth demanding and possessive. Sam met him with matched enthusiasm and let Dean work out his aggression cloaking the echoes of old fear and pain.

As soon as they broke apart, Dean caught his breath leaning up against Sam's forehead and shook out his shoulders, offering him an indiscernible but reassuring, and grateful smile. The tension began dissipating from the room and Dean stooped to begin filling the tub, almost managing to forget the striking color of Sam's blood soaking the white tiles.

He shook off the old images and focused on adjusting the temperature before helping lower Sam in. "Is that warm enough?" Dean asked over the quiet splash of the running water, "Too hot, too cold?"

"It's perfect, now would you quit babyin' me and get your ass in here." Sam smiled up at him as he settled against the bottom, leaning up as far as his belly would let him to give his brother room.

Dean grinned and shook his head backing up, glad his little episode hadn't ruined the mood, "Don't gotta ask me twice." He slung his shirt up and over his head, dropping it carelessly to the floor before wiggling gracelessly from his pants. Sam couldn't suppress the barely-escaped snicker as Dean crashed into the wall, losing his balance when the last of one pant leg wouldn't come lose from his ankle. "Shut up," He growled around a soft smile, flinging the freed pants to the ground.

"I'm sorry," Sam laughed not sorry at all, "It's just…your elegance, it stuns me sometimes." He continued laughing under his breath, "Come on," He waved Dean over and his brother complied, glaring all the way as he stepped over the ledge and into the steaming water behind Sam. He spread his legs and sat, wriggling around until he was settled comfortably at his brother's back. He wrapped his arms around Sam's chest as he helped him slide back, only stopping once their bodies were flush and propped up against the tub wall. Sam's skin suctioned itself against Dean's, the mop of his dark hair settling against the crook of his brother's shoulder.

Sam let out a deep sigh, relaxing into the mold of Dean's firm, warm body, his head lolling against his chest.

Dean's nose bumped lazily against Sam's temple, sparing a fleeting moment to breathe in the scent of his brother's skin, pure of soap and dirt and everything else that could alter its unique aroma. Something like the heady tang of baked bread and chopped wood and the faintest hint of pine, and for some reason he couldn't quite name, his heart flared up and clenched so tight in his chest, he almost couldn't breathe.

He never wanted to stop though; he thought he could probably get hard just breathing it in. He let his hands roam around to his brother's front, gliding carelessly across his wide, shaped chest and down to the completely opposing bulge of his softer, currently shifting belly.

"God I love feeling them move." Dean whispered into Sam's neck, letting his hands rest over their little fidgeting bodies, feeling their tiny limbs jabbing softly up into his palms.

"Yeah," Sam sighed before grunting quietly as one particularly rough kick pushed at his pelvis, "Me too…most of the time." He relented with an amused chuckle, rubbing over the sore spot.

Dean hummed in sympathy, "Their gettin' stronger huh?" He asked quietly, replacing Sam's hands with his own as he took over gently soothing the babies, trying to calm them down some.

Sam nodded, the languid movement tickling the skin at Dean's collarbone, "And bigger." He added, "Everyday I can tell."

Dean kissed Sam's still dry and sleep-tangled knots, "Bet you're getting anxious for them to get here. It's gotta be uncomfortable in there." He suggested softly, still musing over the soft, taut skin of Sam's belly.

Sam shrugged, "I'm actually, perfectly content with them staying in there as long as they possibly can." He confessed, whispering a laugh to cover his undercurrents of fear. About the birth, about being a parent, about having absolutely no idea what they were going to do with two tiny defenseless lives once they finally arrived.

Dean let out a small breath of empathy, guessing he knew all the things Sam was scared of. "We got Meyer Sammy, we'll get them out just fine. And after, we'll have all the supplies we need - I've already got a couple paychecks saved up so we can start shopping as soon as you're ready. We're gonna be fine."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Doesn't make me any less nervous though. For now, I'm just happy they're still safe in here," His hands moved over his stomach, "I can deal with a little back ache." He breathed as he relaxed into Dean again.

"You're backs hurting?" Dean perked up, leaning forward to try to meet Sam's eye.

Sam shrugged, "Well, a little. It's not a big deal Dean, hasn't even been going on that long." He calmed his brother, "Definitely could be worse." He paused, "Actually, it will be worse. For now I'm fine, long as I get these baths with you." He sighed serenely, "I haven't been this comfortable in weeks." He sighed through a wisp of a smile, turning up under Dean's chin, pressing his dry lips to the square of his brother's jaw.

"You shoulda told me Sammy, you probably would've gotten a free message out of it. And we could've done this whole bath thing earlier." Dean lightly reprimanded moving his hands to Sam's back and beginning to rub the knotted muscles around his spine.

Sam moaned before he could respond with anything intelligible, melting under the steady kneading of Dean's hands and the encasing heat of the steaming bath water. The relief was palpable, so intense it morphed into real pleasure as the tension seeped from his muscles and lit every nerve with desire.

Sam continued his steady stream of appreciative groaning, encouraging his brother with soft keening sounds before he threw a careless hand up to wrap around the back of Dean's neck. He felt the lazy waves of reprieve turn into something sharper, stronger, slinking through his veins and into the pit of his stomach, heating his groin as his focus narrowed to the wide, strong grip of Dean's hands over his flesh.

"Fuck you're beautiful." Dean huffed inaudibly, ducking his head into the crook of Sam's neck and watching from hooded eyes as his brother's body slowly arched, awakening under his hands manipulation.

The bath only ended once the water had cooled around them and they were left gasping against each other's wet lips, shuddering violently in the remaining waves of the sloshing water and clinging with white knuckles to whatever they could hold on to. Bodies still connected, voices still crying out their last rushes of blinding pleasure, and muscles finally releasing their last remnants of strain as they collapsed against one another.

Dean took time regaining his strength before he finally summoned the energy to lift from Sam's lap, slowly pulling his body free with a low groan. Sam gasped as his cock slid free and Dean gradually got to his feet before him. He brushed a shaky hand down Sam's cheek before bending down to help his brother stand with him.

He slowly leaned over to pull the plug and drain the soiled bath water before flipping on the nozzle for the shower, making sure the temperature was right before letting any water hit Sam. He leaned forward into Sam's swollen lips, dragging his tongue across them before lazily slipping inside, tangling his hands in Sam's wet hair to keep him steady. "You alright?" He asked into the kiss, letting a palm drop lay flat against Sam's belly button.

Sam was still subtly catching his breath, panting against Dean as he helped them both stay standing under the soothing spray. He nodded though, because he was so much more than alright after that reunion he didn't think there were words.

Dean quirked a crooked smile, leaning in for one last kiss before he helped them through a quick shower. He made sure Sam's weak body was steady on the new sticky mat against the floor of the tub as he washed his back and shampooed his hair, letting him lean heavily against his chest as he tried to wake them up.

Sam shut off the water just as the heat began waning and they were finally clean, sated and smiling helplessly. Dean climbed out first before helping Sam; they took turns drying each other off, unable to keep their hands off one another for more than a few seconds at a time.

It was just as the boys were making their careful way down the stairs once more that Bobby and Meyer returned home, arms overflowing with plastic grocery bags and faces colored from the crisp wind they could hear blowing around the house.

"Whew!" Meyer called as Bobby kicked the door shut behind him, "Good to be outta that, it's crazy out there." He mumbled before spotting the brother's at the end of the stairs, "Oh hey boys." The doctor greeted brightly as Bobby nodded to them before heading into the kitchen, grunting with the weight of the bags.

"Hey guys, wow, you really stocked up." Dean noticed as he walked Sam to the couch, "There any more out in the hippie van?" He asked, smirking at Meyer's glare before Sam pulled his attention to him.

"Dean," Sam started, tugging on his brother's shirt as he sat down, "if you don't quit walking me around the house like your grandmother I'm gonna knock you out." He threatened without much heat, glancing at the hand Dean had wrapped around Sam's bicep.

Dean chuckled at the irritated flush in Sam's cheeks and the fire in his bright eyes before backing away and throwing his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay I'm sorry, didn't even realize I was doin' it."

"Exactly, it's like second nature to you, treatin' me like an invalid." Sam shook his head.

"Of course it is, you're my damsel Sammy, remember that." Dean teased, chuckling as he brushed his knuckles against Sam's chin before he could duck out of the way.

"Dean quit picking on your brother." The tired order sounded from the kitchen, "And yes boy, there's more in the hippie van." Bobby continued and the boys could hear the gruff chuckle of their old friend as the doctor mumbled something tetchy.

"Ain't they just adorable," Dean drawled to his brother, looking toward the direction of the noise.

"Heard that." Bobby answered over the crinkling sound of plastic bags being bundled up, "Get your ass out there and then come help us adorable old men unload your food ya idjit."

Dean's head tilted back on a quiet laugh as he sat up from the arm of the couch and disappeared through the front door.

"That boy I swear." Sam caught Bobby mutter before the sounds of a slow, sappy country song started drifting from the kitchen, "We'll see how he likes that," He heard Meyer chuckle as the volume was turned up and he began humming along.

Sam laughed with him from his spot on the couch before deciding to go help them unload the food, still listening to Meyer carry the sad tune. He pushed off the back of the couch and arched himself up until he was on his feet, hating that he had to use the back of the couch for support until he got his bearings and the blood flowed back into his head. He took a few deep breaths, hand supporting under his belly as he let the couple hard beats of his heart calm and the blinking dots in his vision clear.

Sam hated concussions, probably more than any other injury he'd sustained – they messed with everything and took forever to completely heal. Left him weak and dependent and for Sam Winchester, there was no worse combination.

He sighed and headed into the kitchen, smiling as brightly as he could manage as Bobby and Meyer looked up at the noise of his entry, hoping they wouldn't kick him out if he appeared healthy enough to help.

"Sam, how're you feeling?" Meyer stopped his humming and dropped what he was unloading to come to the youngest Winchester's side, "Do you need something? I thought you were resting on the couch."

Resting, like some gimpy old hag. Sam had to bite back the immediate snarky response that was itching to lash out at Meyer's babying words. He took a slow breath and looked at the doctor, "Just came to help." He responded, forcing his lips into the least fake smile he could accomplish, "Good song." He smirked, pointing to the radio, still blaring plucking guitars and southern drawls.

"I think you should try to stay off your feet Sam." Meyer admonished caringly, ignoring his fake compliment, "C'mon just for a few days." He led him to the dining room table and pulled out a chair, "Let's not push it, alright? How's your head feeling?"

Sam bit the inside of his cheek as he sat, staring darkly at the wall behind Meyer, "Fine."

Meyer sighed, "You probably wanna sock me one right about now." He shook his head, "I am sorry Sam but trust me when I say, I've never asked anything of you without your best interest in mind. I'm just trying to keep you guys healthy."

He thought over that for a moment.

"You don't make this any easier when you justify yourself." Sam snapped, still avoiding the doctor's sympathetic stare.

Meyer suppressed his chuckle, "I completely understand if you need to take your anger out on me."

Sam huffed and ducked his head, "Before I really do hit you, please go away. Go serenade your husband or something."

"Okay Sam." He answered calmly and returned to the kitchen just as Dean came in and dumped the rest of the bags onto the counter.

"Oh nice touch doc," Dean glared before nodding at the radio, "Will you shut that crap off?"

Meyer just smiled wide before putting his hands over his heart, closing his eyes, and pulling in a dramatic gasp as he joined in on the next song, "She put him out, like the burning end of a midnight cigarette! She broke his heart, he spent his whole life trying to forget..."

"Where's Sam?" Dean yelled over Meyer's sensationalized serenade.

"Here." Sam answered dully, just loud enough to hear over the doctor and Bobby's laughter at the man's performance. Dean moved around the old men, shooting them incredulous stares until he could peer through the double doorway between the dining room and kitchen.

"Why are you in the dark?" He asked flipping on the light.

"I was banned from the kitchen."

"Aw," Dean laughed quietly at the dejection on his brother's face before kneeling to be level with him, "'M sorry Sammy, need me to kick some ass for ya?"

"I'm perfectly capable of kicking some ass all on my own Dean." Sam responded automatically, still staring at the wall.

Dean pressed his lips together, desperately suppressing his smile. His brother looked too much like the two year old he raised pouting like that, and it was hard to take anything seriously with the crazy raucous going on behind him, especially as Meyer started to sing along with the woman's verse.

"…Life is short, but this time it was bigger, than the strength to get up off her knees. We laid her next to him beneath the willow, while the angels sang a whiskey lullaby, la, la, la, la, la, la, la…"

"I know Sammy." He nodded standing up and glancing behind him, seeing the doctor swaying through the kitchen as he put away the groceries. He couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, "What do ya say we go watch TV or something. We can let the women do the cooking for us."

Sam cracked a tiny grin of satisfaction as Meyer shot a glare at Dean, "Sure. But not TV. Cards or something, I can't take any more TV."

Dean agreed easily and took them back to the living room, grabbing the deck on the way.

Thirty poker hands later, dinner was being set at the table, the radio was still humming soft country songs and the smell of ribs and rice was wafting in from the kitchen, drawing loud rumbles of hunger from each boys' stomach.

"Come on boys, let's eat." Bobby called as the dishes clanked down onto the table.

"Hell yes," Dean breathed helping Sam up from the couch.

"You guys start, I'll be right down." Meyer said holding a plate of dished up food in his hands as he started up the stairs.

Dean nodded as they sat down, glancing nervously toward Sam, knowing he'd realize who the plate was for.

"So, how is Caleb doing anyway?" Sam asked quietly, his face a calm front as he fiddled with his napkin, avoiding Dean and Bobby's eyes.

They hadn't talked much about the hunter still healing upstairs over the few days Sam had been bedridden but Dean knew, especially now that Sam was moving around the house again, the topic couldn't be avoided much longer.

Bobby came in with the last dish before he sat down with them, "Almost healed up now. Bones are set, stitches are comin' out." The old man nodded, considering, "He'll be able to get around without the meds soon I imagine. But we're plannin' on moving him downstairs tonight so you boys can have your room back."

Sam nodded, "Well, I'm glad he's okay." He replied vaguely, pausing before he spoke again, "He's not…like, changing his mind about…anything, right?"

Dean lay a hand on Sam's knee, "No Sammy, I've been talking to him everyday. If anything he's getting angrier about what those guys did to us. Who knows, he might even be some help when the time comes to hunt the bastards down."

Sam looked up at his brother, a quick flash of fear lighting up his eyes before he glanced away again, trying to focus on loading up his plate. He was relieved Caleb was still being relatively accepting, but the gratitude was quickly washed away at the mention of their impending quest for vengeance or justice or whatever the hell they were calling it.

If he was honest, it scared the hell out of him thinking of facing that psychotic doctor and his Igor sidekick again. When were they supposed to have time to do it anyway? Was Dean planning on having them go after the babies were born? Was he going to go before? They never really had finished that conversation, or at least come up with a plausible conclusion. The loose ends made him nervous.

"Sammy," Dean called softly, jiggling his brother's knee under the table, "Hey."

Sam roused himself from the deep thoughts and realized he was holding a bowl of mashed potatoes against his plate, having stopped in the middle of dishing up.

"Oh sorry." Sam's cheeks flushed and he quickly finished before passing them on.

"Stop stressing." Dean emphasized, "You know when the time comes to deal with them we're going to talk about it first, decide what's best together. And we have back up." Sam glanced up at Bobby who nodded in agreement, "I'm not lettin' them touch you again, you know that. You've got nothing to be scared of." Dean finished, his tone determined and his eyes soulful.

It was silent for a handful of heartbeats.

"Well, that was all very touching Deana, and I fully agree Sam, but I think I'd like to get on with this whole food thing now without all the hand holdin'." Bobby grouched, shooting a quick wink at Sam who smiled at his old friend.

"Bite me old man." Dean shot back quickly before digging into his plate.

Meyer skipped down the last few stairs then and rushed to join them at the table.

"I'm sure you'll all be happy to know that not only will Caleb be ready to switch rooms tonight, but will be able to walk without compromising any injuries to do it." The doctor smiled, bursting with pride and taking a small bow, "I am nothing short of a miracle worker."

"Alright si'down ya ego." Bobby snorted patting the man on the shoulder, "I'm sure he'll be kissin' your feet enough for all of us."

Meyer nodded in agreement and plopped down with a satisfied sigh, beginning to load up a plate, "Oh and Sam, he wanted me to tell you he wanted to talk when you got a chance." He added, clearly trying to make the statement sound like an afterthought.

Sam's fork paused halfway to his mouth and then slowly descended back to the plate, "About what?"

Meyer shrugged before looking up at Sam, "Clear the air? Just to see you? I don't know. You don't have to go alone or anything, though I'm positive it's nothing to-"

"There's no way in hell he's going alone." Dean interrupted, his voice void of anger, but final and certain nonetheless, making the statement nothing but obvious.

Meyer sighed while Sam shot him a mildly irritated glare.

"Hey, this is one issue I don't care if you guys call me overprotective for. I am, I'll own it. It's not changing any time soon so deal." Dean shot off before stuffing his mouth with a ridiculous heap of mashed potatoes and rib.

Sam was too distracted by his brother's chipmunk cheeks and the squelching sound of his chewing to argue. Meyer simply laughed and told the boys he'd be waiting for them after dinner.

After a lot of stalling on Sam's part – pushing the food on his plate around, locking himself in the bathroom for a solid fifteen minutes, and sipping languidly on a water bottle after a sudden bout of unquenchable thirst – the two brother's were finally standing outside of their bedroom door, Caleb just on the other side.

"Come on dude we can't stand here all night, you're not supposed to be on your feet anyway. Let's go." Dean urged quietly, "I'm right here, what are you so nervous about?"

Sam shrugged, "I don't know Dean, it's weird okay!" He finally hissed, turning on his brother, "He probably just wants to see for himself what a freak I am. I didn't plan on anyone besides you three ever seeing me like this." He deflated and turned away, jerkily rubbing a hand over his mouth. "Whatever it's fine let's just get it over with."

"Sam," Dean advanced stopping his brother with a gentle hand on his forearm, "I'm sorry. I didn't think about that, I'm so used to it I don't notice anymore." He shrugged a shoulder, running a light hand over Sam's belly, well hidden under one of the many oversized sweatshirts he'd been wearing since starting to show. "We can wait a minute if you need. Or…you don't even have to go in at all. I can go see what he wants." Dean offered in apology.

"No it's fine. Really, I'm making a big deal out of nothing. We can go." Sam nodded trying to push past his brother.

"You sure?"

Sam nodded and took a quick breath before rapping his knuckles softly on the dark, fading wood. A muffled 'come in' could be heard from the other side before he turned the knob and shouldered through the door.

"Hey Sam." Caleb greeted warmly, laying back in bed with the TV remote in his hand and the empty plate from dinner on his lap. He quickly cleared the food and sat up straighter, shutting of the television as the boys entered. Sam timid, Dean defiant.

"Dean," Caleb acknowledged moments later, not the least bit surprised the older brother had joined Sam in coming to meet him. "It's been a while Sam. At least, since I saw you when I could remember our conversation the next day." Caleb conceded with a rueful, embarrassed grin.

Dean and Sam nodded in sync, both taking a seat on the unoccupied bed. Sam subtly tried to pull the sweatshirt away from his body as he sat, his cheeks burning briefly as he caught Caleb's gaze flashing down at the movement.

"Yeah, you were pretty out of it." Sam agreed softly, unable to hide the tension vibrating his words.

Caleb tried to give a smile as he nodded, but it was obviously strained and his eyes swept down Sam's body once more. Sam could feel Dean tensing beside him.

It was awkwardly quiet for a handful of seconds as Sam sat like a statue perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes glued to the floor and Caleb's struggling to avoid Sam's belly, just visible under his clothes.

"Okay I think we can all agree this is officially uncomfortable," Dean finally interjected into the silence, "Caleb did you ask him up here for a reason or just to stare all night?"

Caleb seemed to finally realize he was ogling and shook himself subtly before looking up at to Sam's face, noticing the red tinge to his cheeks, "I'm sorry Sam," He apologized hastily, grimacing before pinching the bridge of his nose, "I didn't ask you up here to make you feel like a spectacle, I just..."

"I know," Sam answered quietly, "Its fine, can't blame you for looking." He shrugged before pausing, "But, is that…the only reason I'm here or…"

"No Sam, no 'course not. I- I wanted to talk to you just, to, kind of clear the air I guess. Make sure you knew – you have no reason to be scared of me." His earnest gaze dashed to Dean before landing on Sam once more, "I know you guys were reluctant to trust me with this, and you were right to keep your guard up – there are hunters out there who would see this as some kind of potential case – but you should know I'm not one them. The only people in this situation that deserve my gun are the psychos that did this to you."

Caleb inhaled deeply and exhaled his anger before deciding to continue, "And I wanted to apologize for barging in on your lives in the middle of all this." He said with a sheepish chuckle, "It's all kind of a blur, me gettin' over here and most everything between then and a few days ago - he kept me pretty heavily medicated for most of it - but I know I've caused a lot of drama and stress for you two, so I'm sorry. The last thing I want is to be the cause of any more."

Sam's heart was racing by the time Meyer had finished; the utter relief flooding his system made his head light and his eyes glassy. A shy smile danced at his lips before he gained the courage to meet Caleb's anxious eyes, "It's alright Caleb. You have no idea…how good it feels to hear you say all that. Thank you."

Caleb sighed his reprieve, grinning at the boys before shaking his head at the thanks, "I just wanted to set the record straight, don't thank me. But, if you could…protect me from your brother instead. Make sure I get out of here alive at some point?" He laughed eyeing Dean warily.

"What'd I do?" Dean bristled.

Caleb scoffed, "Only threated my life a couple hundred times…creatively too. I mean the mouth you got on you, man." He shook his head, snickering lightly before turning to Sam, "You're brother can be one scary son of a bitch when it comes to protecting you kid."

Sam smiled, timid and slow as his eyes slid to glance at Dean beside him: sitting there, covering up an imperceptible grin with his hand as he shrugged. "What can I say, I'm just a bad ass mother fucker."

Sam back-handed Dean's bicep as soon as the words were out, a reflex to his brother's more inappropriate antics, and rolled his eyes which inadvertently left Caleb laughing hard enough to shake his bed.

The hunter's easy amusement soon became contagious, lightening the last traces of tension from the room and Sam and Dean felt themselves relaxing into it.

Meyer emerged just a second later, peering in with a smile as he heard the three occupants giggling on the other side of the door.

"What's so funny?" The doctor asked, his grin widening as he stepped in.

Dean shrugged, "Ask him."

Caleb simply shook his head, "Just, you two." He shrugged, still gently smiling, "Been in battle too long I guess, its good to have some human company for a change."

Everyone sobered a little at the revelation; Meyer nodded, his eyes soft, "I think you deserve a little down time with the humans, especially after your latest catastrophe of a hunt."

"Hey," Caleb cried indignantly, "Got the bads didn't I?"

"Almost killed yourself doing it, but yes Caleb. You got the bads." Meyer placated, "Now you ready to get to your new room?"

Sam spoke before Caleb got the chance, "You changed the sheets down there right?"

Caleb's suddenly apprehensive eyes snapped back over to Sam, "What'd you do to the sheets?"

Sam recoiled with confusion, "Nothing, I was stuck in that bed for over a week, they only let me really shower once. I'm just looking out for you."

Caleb nodded smiling before he seemed to remember what he'd walked in on in the panic room that night that'd forced Sam to stay bed-ridden for over a week; his attention shifted from Sam's face to his belly.

"We changed the sheets, all the medical equipment's moved out of the way, the place is clean and waiting for you whenever your ready Caleb." Meyer interposed, defusing the tension as best he could as he knew Sam and Caleb would be skirting around each other for a while until they both accustomed themselves to the knew situation. He wanted the transition to be as smooth and stress-free as possible for Sam.

"Yeah, yeah I'm ready now if-"

Sam's quick inhale cut Caleb off. Dean immediately jumped to his brother's side, "Sam? You okay?"

"I'm fine Dean," Sam laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, gently pushing to keep him at bay, "Just surprised me is all," Sam rubbed to the right of his belly button, "They uh, were getting restless, kicked kinda hard." His eyes flitted to Caleb, apprehensive.

The young hunter stared at Sam's stomach, the spot where his hand pressed against the fabric of his sweatshirt, displaying the outline of his belly for the first time since he'd come in.

Meyer kept his stare fixed on Caleb as the hunter absorbed the new evidence of the babies' impossible existence with stricken awe in his wide eyes. "Wow," He breathed inaudibly, his eyes flickering up toward Sam before landing back on his stomach, "They…they kick? You can feel them?"

Meyer smiled at the hunter's stunned curiosity as Sam diffidently nodded.

"That's normal for this stage in a pregnancy Caleb," The doctor chimed in softly before his brow knit, something crossing his mind.

"And that reminds me Sam, can't believe I almost forgot." His head shook, "Before we move Caleb downstairs, I'd like to borrow you down there to talk about one quick test I didn't get a chance to run earlier. Won't take more than half an hour if we do it. You wanna come down?" He turned to Caleb, "Don't try anything too strenuous before I'm back, alright?"

Caleb's brow was furrowed over quizzical eyes as he nodded, watching Meyer place a hand on Sam's back to usher him out, the boy's face just as confused as his.

"What – uh, okay." Sam agreed as he stood and Dean rose to join them, looking at Meyer with slight unease. Sam spun back toward Caleb, "I guess I'll see you in a bit. Thanks for being so…understanding and everything. It really takes a lot of stress off."

Caleb nodded, fixing his features into something kinder as he waved off the thanks once more. Dean just shot him a quick half-smile before following after his brother and disappearing behind the door.

"What test Meyer?" Sam asked as they were heading down the stairs.

"It's nothing to worry about, just a more thorough check on the babies' health. Make sure nothing's out of order. Let's talk about it more downstairs. It has its risks, so it's your choice whether or not to have it done." The doctor answered with ease; the explanation put Sam's nerves on edge.

"You think something's wrong with them?" Dean piped in.

Meyer shook his head, "No, everything so far has looked good on the sonograms." He answered as they took the last steps into the basement.

"What's this about then?"

They all entered the panic room. Meyer shut the door before answering. "Look boys, no matter how much I stress not to worry about this, I know you won't listen to me so I'll just say now, the chances of anything being wrong are low. But, due to the circumstances, not as low as they would be normally."

Sam and Dean continued staring with wide eyes, expectant for more explanation.

"You boys are related," The doctor continued gently, "That alone makes these babies at higher risk for disease and…other complications. Add that to the instability of the situation...I just want to be sure they're completely healthy. This test will tell us if they have any defects or disorders, Down syndrome for example. In a few cases there are treatments I can give to help them, if there's even anything wrong."

Sam deflated with a sigh as he sat heavily onto the bed; Dean rubbed along his forehead, hunching in on himself as he took in the new piece of information.

"And the blows keep comin'." He muttered, shaking his head with a hand over his mouth, taking a few steps before joining Sam on the bed.

"It's not a complicated procedure and the results should be back soon if we do decide to do it, I'll have to send them to a colleague of mine with access to-"

"Why didn't you say anything earlier? If you thought this could be a problem why didn't you tell us? Hell why didn't we get this test done months ago?" Dean snarled, whipping around to face the doctor, his eyes blazing with restrained rage.

"Calm down Dean, like I said chances are still low that anything's wrong at all. And I didn't mention it earlier because to get the best results the test should be done now, not months ago. And to warn you about this would've only caused both of you months of worrying instead of days."

Dean's jaw was set as he stared down the doctor, but after a few moments of huffing his frustration, he admitted defeat and sat back down, his head hanging low while he pinched the bridge of his nose. Sam, who had been sitting quietly throughout the exchange, finally spoke up, "What are the risks?"

"Infection, which can lead to miscarriage. But with the technology now and the fact that you're living with a doctor the chances of that are low. One in something like 2,000."

Sam looked down, thinking that over. "What are the chances either of them have something?"

"I'm not sure, I just know they're higher than normal."

Dean bit the inside of his lip, sliding his eyes shut as Sam's began to water. It was painfully silent for almost a full minute while Meyer let the boys think over the decision.

Sam blinked his eyes clear and sniffed before looking up at his brother, "What do you think?"

Dean sucked in a sharp breath and held it a moment before releasing and grabbing his brother's hand, "I think that…if we do this, whatever the results are won't change anything: how we feel about them or whether or not we're going to keep them," He disclosed shakily, "So I would say no, but I know it would kill me waiting around for months to find out if they're healthy. I think we should be as prepared as we can be."

Sam rolled his bottom lip under his teeth, blinking his wet lashes again and nodded, "Okay," He rasped, "Then we should do it." He laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, rubbing soothingly as another tear fell.

Meyer nodded sympathetically at the young boy, admiring the boys' strength in the face of so much adversity. "Okay, just lay back on the bed and relax, I'll get everything ready."

Sam began shuffling back on the mattress; Dean laid a hand on his knee, smiling as earnestly as he could manage and sending what he hoped was assurance before focusing back on Meyer, "How does the test work?"

The doctor was just opening a drawer full of different size syringes when Dean asked, his eyes dropping to the needles Meyer was sorting through. The doctor sighed and turned to the protective sibling, "It's called amniocentesis. I'm gonna take a few samples of amniotic fluid, one from each baby. Nothing too major, just two little pricks and were done."

Dean's lips thinned into a tight line before he turned back to Sam, moving up the bed to sit at his hip, trying to project all the encouragement he had. He rubbed along the side of Sam's arm, moved up to brush his bangs from his eyes and landed on his shoulder, rubbing the tension out. Sam glanced up from under his lashes, his lips twitched a quick half smile and his eyes shot back to his lap, to his hands picking at the dead skin around his nails.

Dean laid his hand over Sam's, getting his attention once more, "Stop. You're gonna make them bleed."

Meyer picked up on Sam's distress too, "Don't be nervous Sam, they're going to be fine." He stepped up to the bed, wheeling over a tray too tall for Sam to see along with the ultrasound machine. "I'm going to keep an image of them up throughout the test, make sure I don't stab anything important." He smiled trying to crack the heavy tension buzzing in the room.

Sam just lifted his heavy layers and pushed down his sweats until his stomach was on display, then grabbed Dean's hand and let the heat of the familiar touch soothe the blossoming ache behind his eyes and the stiff beat of his heart.

Meyer began by cleaning the exposed skin with wipes and laying down sterile sheets over his clothes. Then the doctor squirted a glob of icy gel onto Sam's stomach and his muscles all jerked at once. Dean rubbed his thumb into the back of his hand, calming his twitchy, anxious body.

"Sorry, 's a little chilly." Meyer's eyes bounced up to Sam and then back to his work.

"Always is." Sam shrugged, concealing his stress, "'S okay."

Meyer grinned minutely, never looking away from his own hands as he placed the wand against Sam's taut skin and spread the gel, seeking out the position of their babies. "Well, looks like boy wonder A is up here, closer to your ribs," Meyer said as he held the wand over the baby, showing his balled up position – tiny hands up around his face and legs bent around his stomach, "And B's over here, a little under him and to the left," He moved the wand down by Sam's belly button, showing the second child in much the same position, but facing them.

Sam was all wide eyes and watery laughs as he looked over the two perfect babies inside him, his fears pushed aside as he basked in seeing them again. Dean couldn't suppress the crack of his smile if he tried, seeing their tiny faces and even smaller hands and fingers moving in his brother. He didn't know what he'd do if anything was wrong with either of them: they'd already lost one baby, he knew he wouldn't survive something like it again.

Meyer's clanking around on the metal tray finally roused Dean from his thoughts and he looked up to see a frighteningly long needle in the doctor's hand. His eyes were immediately on Sam's face, assessing his reaction, and right away saw the panic he was praying wouldn't be there.

Meyer apparently noticed too, "I know needles aren't your favorite Sam, I'm sorry. Take a couple deep breaths, try to relax."

Sam shook out his shoulders, finally tearing his eyes away from the gleaming length of metal, "I'm fine, 's not a big deal. Just, try and make it quick." He suggested breathily, letting his head fall back on the piled up pillows and turning away from the doctor, getting the sight out of his peripheral vision.

"It's alright Sammy," Dean whispered with loyalty, giving his brother a warm smile and brushing a few fingers over his shoulder. Meyer positioned the needle next to the wand and Sam's eyes fell shut, his grip tightening around Dean's hand.

"Quick pinch." They heard Meyer warn before the needle was plunging in and Sam's face twitched into a flickering grimace.

Dean tensed in his own form of pain watching the needle dimple his brother's skin in jerky slides before it slowed, "A little pressure," Meyer warned before something gave and Sam gasped, panting as his eyes shot open and Meyer attached the vial, filling it with a strange pale yellow liquid.

Dean watched Sam's body tense and his veins rise in his straining arms as they gripped him and the sheets. "It's normal to feel some cramping, just hang in there." The doctor encouraged, pressing a little firmer against Sam's stomach.

"Shh easy Sam, try to keep still." Dean instructed quietly through the swelling in his throat and Sam let out a slow whimper, one of the only sounds in the world able to cut Dean to the quick. "I know it hurts, you're almost done." Dean whispered, stroking Sam's arm.

The vial was almost completely full when Sam let out a stung-out groan and Meyer looked back at the screen, seeing the baby he was taking fluid from slowly kicking inside.

"He's moving," Sam informed unnecessarily, his voice a little panicked and brow knitting as his head flopped back to the pillow with a soft grunt.

"It's alright he's not close to the needle. We're almost done."

The jostling pulled at the sight of the injection and Sam spit a few quick curses before the doctor was done and rapidly retracting his equipment.

Sam pressed his eyes shut, drawing in calm, deep breaths as Meyer pushed a cotton ball to the dollop of blood leaking from the small puncture.

"Stomach's still cramping." Sam whispered, lashes brushing over his cheekbones while Meyer taped down a bandage.

"That's normal. You're going to be a little sore for a few days. I'll try to get through the next quick as I can." Meyer said, getting a fresh needle and an empty vial.

Dean's hand grabbed at Sam's bicep, his other rubbing roughly at his forehead in irritation, sick of being side-lined and helpless. "The more relaxed you are the less likely they are to squirm, I know its uncomfortable when they do. They sense your anxiety." The doctor informed, swabbing Sam's stomach to sterilize the skin again.

Sam nodded submissively, trying to release his stress with the air that rushed from his lungs. Dean had Sam's hand in both of his, caressing up his forearm when Sam hunched forward with a shocked wheeze, holding his stomach in obvious discomfort. "What the hell?" He breathed, "Ow, what's going on?"

Meyer immediately moved Sam's hands from where they were pressed to the under side of his belly, replacing them with one of his own and softly prodding the area as he looked at the image on the screen. Dean was instantly on alert, watching with bated breath as Sam's grimace tightened and Meyer's hand examined. The doctor deflated, letting out a short sigh of what Dean thought was relief, "Looks like a Braxton Hicks contraction." He reported quietly, removing his hand to massage Sam's shoulder, "It'll subside in a second, hang on."

"Braxton Hicks?" Dean questioned, relaxing the hand Sam clasped so his brother could squeeze.

"Yeah, they're nothing to be concerned about. I didn't expect them to start this early – he's only 26 weeks, they usually start around 28 or nine – but still, it's not harmful to him or the babies. It's the body's natural way of slowly preparing for labor, we probably set it off with the prodding around." Meyer assured the boys =, still gently kneading Sam's shoulder.

"Preparing for labor?" Sam croaked, releasing his constricted muscles to sink further into the pillows as the false contraction waned, "What do you mean, you said I'm only 26 weeks."

"I know, you're not going into labor don't worry. These contractions shouldn't be painful, they're simply meant to work the muscles you're going to need once you are."

"That hurt though." Sam complained, swallowing reflexively, "Are those gonna keep happening until I have them?"

Meyer's brow pinched in pity, "It's hard to say how often they'll occur or how intense they'll be. Some people start experiencing them at two months, others not at all and some report that they're uncomfortable, others that they hardly notice them."

Sam's eyes dimmed and his nostrils flared, he turned toward Dean, "I take it back." He muttered angrily, "I can't wait till they're ready to come out."

Dean breathed a consolatory laugh, "I'm sorry Sammy." He cupped his forearm, stroking the soft skin. "It's gotta suck."

Meyer patted his shoulder, "Just a couple more months and this will all be a distant memory," He comforted, "Okay shall we get the last of it? Sooner we do it the sooner its done."

Sam moaned but agreed nonetheless, focusing all his energy on staying relaxed as he let the doctor proceed once more. Meyer had to find the correct position for the needle again, moving the wand around before pinpointing the right placement and jabbing in the needle with a few steady jerks. Sam's head pushed back into the pillow, his eyes tightening ever so slightly.

Dean noticed Meyer wasn't grabbing the vial to attach to the needle though, the doctor's lips thinning as his grip tightened on the metal. Sam's breath subtly quickened, his hand clasping more forcefully around Dean's. "Ow," Sam exhaled slowly, "Why…'s it cramping so bad?" He grunted, working to keep his head turned away from what the doctor was doing.

"I'm sorry Sam, hang on." Meyer gave another light push against the needle and Sam yelped in a breath before groaning lowly.

"Fuck," He spit, "What the hell are you doing?" Sam demanded, trying to grip the underside of his belly with a free hand before Dean caught him again.

"You're experiencing another contraction," Meyer informed with concentration, "It's taking a little prompting to get all the way in, try to stay relaxed."

"Thought you were in, feels like you're in." Sam wheezed keeping his eyes locked on Dean's who was watching the doctor intently, everything about his posture distressed as the atmosphere of the room thickened with tension.

"Ow, ow, ow," Sam chanted as the pressure intensified, unable to help looking down at what Meyer was doing and seeing his white-knuckle grip on the needle, holding it with steady pressured jabs, "Oh my God push it in or pull it out." He cried, his eyes watering compulsorily.

Meyer didn't take his eyes away from the screen, "Shh easy Sam, I know." He muttered, "We're almost there."

Sam sucked in a shaky breath and let it out with a shudder as Meyer finally got through, a few kneejerk tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. The doctor quickly secured the vial and began sucking the liquid into it.

Dean continued helplessly soothing him as the second vial filled, rubbing slow circles into his skin. "It's okay, you're almost done Sammy." He swiped the tear before it reached Sam's temple.

"Please hurry." Sam breathed, his voice high and strained and breaking Dean's heart as his head swayed on the pillow, falling toward his brother. He brushed light fingers through Sam's hair, providing as much comfort as he could as he hushed him calmly.

It was another twenty seconds before the vial was full and Dean watched with relief as the doctor pulled the needle out quickly, a thick bead of blood escaping the puncture before Meyer pressed a cotton ball firmly against Sam's skin. He quickly freed his hands and rubbed at the small hole, swiping the blood away with the damp fabric before snatching a fresh one and taping it down tight.

It was only Sam's sigh of relief that allowed Dean to relax, once Meyer stopped irritating the lesion and bandaged it. His own chest deflated as Sam's did.

"Seems we hit every snag we could on that one. I'm sorry Sam, you did really well, thank you for bearing with me." Meyer praised, "Promise I won't put you through anything more for at least a few weeks. I'll get these off to the lab first thing in the morning." The doctor let a hand rub at Sam's shoulder as he watched the boy recuperate, holding his stomach protectively, "You take a few minutes and then we'll get you moved up into your room again. I'll go work on getting Caleb out of there for you guys."

Sam mustered up the most convincing smile he could manage, though it was closer to a grimace, and nodded. Meyer put the samples in storage and left the boys alone to recover together, as he always did after any invasive procedure.

As soon as Meyer was gone, Dean carefully laid down next to his brother, nuzzling into his neck to press light kisses across his smooth skin. His hand covered the square of Sam's lax jaw, the tips of his fingers illuminated against the dark of his brother's silky locks, running lazily through them. "You okay?" He grated through the tension in his throat, "Fuck this shit's not goin' easy on you." He observed, shaking his head as he stroked the side of Sam's belly, "I hate these things, stupid tests and procedures and bullshit. Wish I could do it for you." His lips brushed against Sam's light stubble before laying down another chaste kiss.

Sam's head lolled against the pillow, "It's okay. I'm okay. Stomach hurts a little, but mostly just tired," He husked, "Too much adrenaline. I'm crashing."

Dean quirked a sympathetic half smile watching Sam's heavy lids flutter, "Yeah I'd say so. Why don't we get you upstairs and you can crash in our bed."

Sam sighed, all the air whizzing from his lungs as his body collapsed with a great huff, his answer to the journey upstairs.

"I know you're tired. Come on," Dean slid an arm under Sam's neck, "all the more reason to go. I'll help you."

Sam swallowed audibly and groaned as Dean slowly pulled him into a sitting position, his hand going to his belly.

"What's wrong?" Dean stopped moving, still helping him to stay upright.

Sam shook his head, "Sore…they don't like it much."

"'M sorry," Dean's hand covered Sam's, feeling the two gently writhing bodies underneath, "Meyer picked up some of that cream stuff today, it's supposed to have something in it that'll help relax all of you. I'll give 'em a little massage, they'll fall asleep." Dean compromised and Sam tilted his head back to look him in the eye, his bangs tickling his lashes as he smiled sleepily and leaned forward into his lips.

"Thank you." Sam mouthed into the kiss, "Despite all this, today still had its moments." He disclosed tiredly, his mind flashed back to their bath, "Especially this afternoon, I missed you." Sam's hand gently squeezed the length of Dean's thigh, eliciting a soft sigh from his brother's lips. He nodded against Sam's forehead.

"So glad you're out of this damn bed." He pulled back an inch, "C'mon, let's go kick Caleb out of ours."

Sam nodded and let Dean help him the rest of the way, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress and standing on shaky legs, letting most of his weight fall to his brother. "You good?" Dean asked, "Dizzy or anything?"

Sam clung to his brother and shook his head slowly, hand supporting under his stomach.

"Alright let's go. Take it slow though, tell me if you need to stop."

Dean got them up both flights of stairs safely albeit sluggishly as every few steps Sam had to stop at the babies' movement. Dean was more than happy when they were finally at the edge of their bed and he could lower Sam to the mattress, letting him relax again.

The boys bypassed Meyer and Caleb at the foot of the bed when they entered, spotting the doctor helping Caleb relearn his balance on a crutch.

"Jesus Sam, what'd he do to you?" Caleb exclaimed once he took in Sam's haggard appearance, "Quick test my ass, you look like hell."

"Well it's good to see you too Caleb." Sam croaked, letting Dean help wriggle the blankets out from under him. "Thank you."

"I had to take a few samples of fluid from the kids," Meyer informed, "Had about every hiccup you could think of." He shook his head, "He's entitled to look however he wants right now." He said, sympathy in his eyes as he approached the young man settling in the bed over.

Caleb grimaced distastefully and shuddered, his free hand going to his own stomach as the doctor leaned down and asked Sam if he could take a look, gesturing to his belly.

Sam's eyes shot over to Caleb, uneasy about baring himself in front of the hunter.

"I can leave if you need me to." Caleb offered, quickly realizing the reason for Sam's hesitation.

Ironically, it was Caleb's offer of privacy that made Sam all right without it, "No, it's fine. Wait for Meyer before you go anywhere."

Caleb shrugged and sat down on his former bed as Meyer slowly lowered the sheets and lifted his layers revealing the two bandages on Sam's stomach, spotted faintly red. The doctor noticed the second puncture beginning to bruise and winced caringly.

Caleb's pitying moan drew Sam and Dean's attention to the bed over, "Damn Meyer what were you doing to the poor kid down there?"

"Inflicting as much pain as possible, I revel in it." Meyer sardonically replied before shaking his head, "I'll get you some Tylenol." He told Sam with a soft pat on his hand before moving back over to Caleb. "You ready to come downstairs?"

Caleb nodded enthusiastically, "Never been more ready doc. No offense to the room, but bein' holed up for a week in it…" He shook his head and grunted, standing and situating himself on the crutch.

"I hear ya." Sam said with a wave, Caleb chuckled and nodded.

"Rest up Sam. Dean, keep an eye on your brother." Caleb ordered around a smirk, "I'll see you boys tomorrow."

"Night Caleb."

As soon as the two were gone Dean flipped off his shirt and shucked off his pants, climbing under the covers with Sam.

"You sure you're okay. That second one looks pretty shitty." Dean said as he scooted closer and lifted Sam's shirt again, inspecting the bruise.

Sam looked down with him, brushing his fingers lightly over the thick bandage. "It stings a little, cramping's worse but nothing I can't handle."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath before letting it out with a soft hum, "Spoke to soon," He held his hand over the bandage, "A's making it his mission to draw this out as long as he can." He explained feeling a foot kick up next to the bruised flesh again.

Dean grimaced, cringing and quickly whisked himself from bed to retrieve the stretch mark cream from the bathroom. "Here, lay back and relax, I'll try to get him calmed down. Hopefully they'll fall asleep so you can."

They both heard Meyer knock as Dean climbed back onto the mattress.

"Come in." Dean called, sitting back and setting the jar on the nightstand.

Meyer entered and set down a tall glass of ice water along with a bottle of Tylenol on Sam's side of the bed. "Just take two at a time every few hours for as long as you need. And drink lots of water with them." He set down a tube of unidentifiable cream, a box of gloves and a packet of wipes. He turned to Dean. "I want you to watch in case Sam wants you to do this later."

"This second injection is going to be especially tender, so this will help with some of that discomfort," The doctor held up the tube, "And the alcohol wipes are to clean the site before you administer it. Wash your hands and put on the gloves." Meyer quickly did what he instructed, returning with gloved hands, "Have Sam remove the bandage so you don't dirty your gloves," Sam slowly pulled the thick cotton off the bruise, revealing a red smear over discoloring skin. Dean hissed, "This'll sting for just a sec, then it's going to feel a lot better." Meyer spoke to Sam, taking the sterile wipe and cleaning the blood away delicately; Sam just took in a steady breath before Meyer had the open tube and was squirting a blob onto his fingers, "Then gently spread it over the bruise."

Almost immediately the sting was gone and the throb abating as Meyer mellifluously took care of the damage. "Better?" He asked, watching Sam moan his appreciation.

"So much." He whispered, falling back to the bed. Meyer hurried through re-bandaging before standing once more and throwing away the gloves. "You can use that as often as you'd like for as long as you need."

Dean smiled in gratitude, "Thanks Meyer."

"Least I can do," He waved off, "Take those, it'll help with the cramping." He motioned to the pills, "And if they're jumping around enough it's hurting you, I'd use that cream I picked up today. Maybe try singing to them too, I remember when my wife was pregnant with Rachel it worked like a charm, put them to sleep almost every time. At this point they recognize your voices, so it's soothing for them to hear."

Sam smiled at that and Dean nodded his thanks before the doctor bid them goodnight and closed the door behind him.

Dean picked the jar of cream up again and pulled the covers down to Sam's hips, helping him pull his shirts all the way off. He made sure the bandages were secure before he remembered the Tylenol and made Sam take a couple. Once he was laying back down Dean scooped up a generous glob and warmed it in his hands.

They each came down, yielding against Sam's tender belly and leisurely spreading the smooth lotion over his strained skin, "Feel okay?"

Sam nodded and slid his hand up Dean's forearm, pulling him down into a long kiss, "I love you."

"You too." Dean answered confusedly, a little out of breath, "What was that for?"

Sam shook his head, "Just you." He answered simply, "I swear, sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating in this shit. One thing to worry about after another, we never get a break. But when there's moments like this, just you and me with a second to breathe…I don't know, I feel okay again. Just wanted to thank you I guess."

"You're such a sap," Dean laughed, ducking his head before pressing one more kiss to Sam's lips, "But I know exactly what you mean."

He leaned back again and resumed rubbing the pacifying lotion over Sam's stomach, watching as his brother's lashes began to fall to his cheeks and he relaxed under Dean's massage.

Just as Sam was drifting to sleep a soft trickle of sound began flittering through their door and Dean recognized the same country music station from this afternoon playing in Meyer's room. Dean let his head bow to his chest as he let out a half-amused half-irritated sigh and checked to make sure the quiet sounds weren't waking Sam up.

When he was satisfied his brother was peacefully asleep he returned his attention to his hands, still rubbing in the excess cream over Sam's pliant flesh and feeling one of the babies move into his hand up by Sam's ribs. He quickly glanced up at his brother, making sure the jostle hadn't disturbed him, before he slid farther down the bed so he was laying between Sam's legs.

He started up a nameless tune, humming softly to the belly as his hands stroked the skin.

And then that song came on again, the one Meyer had been singing word for word earlier that afternoon.

Dean chuckled to himself, remembering the scene the doctor had made swaying through the kitchen. He gradually quieted as the lyrics began though and listened closer this time, reluctant to admit he was sucked into the story as soon as the man's deep, rich voice sifted into the room.

"She put him out, like the burning end of a midnight cigarette. She broke his heart. He spent his whole life trying to forget."

Dean felt another soft jab into his left hand this time as the second baby apparently woke from the other's moderate squirming. He silently exhaled with sympathy, hoping his brother would get the rest he needed before taking up Meyer's idea and softly beginning to hum along with the simple tune, praying it would still their stirring.

"She watched him drink his pain away a little at a time, but he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind, until the night…"

Dean remembered the chorus from hearing it earlier and sang the best he could with the peaceful voice still drifting in through the door.

"He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger. And finally drank away her memory…Life is short but this time it was bigger, than the strength he had to get up off his knees…" Dean stumbled along the lyrics, finding he didn't remember any more and going back to simply humming.

"We found him with his face down in the pillow. With a note that said 'I'll love her till I die.' And when we buried him beneath the willow, the angels sang a Whiskey Lullaby. La, la, la, la, la, la, la… La, la, la, la, la, la, la."

Dean joined in with the la, la-ing, much to his chagrin, but the babies were slowly calming so he continued singing.

"The rumors flew, but no body knew how much she blamed herself…for years and years, she tried to hide the Whiskey on her breath. She finally drank her pain away a little at a time, but she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind…"

Dean joined in for what he knew of the chorus again, "Until the night, she put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger and finally drank away his memory. Life is short, but this time it was bigger, than the strength she had to get up off her knees…" He kept his hands against Sam's warm stomach, feeling almost no movement under them as he sang, beaming proudly before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the underside of Sam's stomach.

He kept humming just in case they weren't completely asleep yet, unwilling to let any distraction wake them again.

"We found her with her face down in the pillow, clinging to his picture for dear life. We laid her next to him beneath the willow, while the angels sang a Whiskey lullaby…"

Listening to the lyrics, he vaguely wondered what it was about the song that Meyer obviously liked so much – it was seriously depressing – but the thought was quickly disbanded as Sam shifted under him, snuffling until he stilled. Dean stopped humming and his eyes whipped up to Sam's face; he kept his body stock-still for a handful of seconds and was beginning to think he'd gotten away until a slow smile crept across his brother's lax features.

"You really singing a country song about lover's suicide right now?" Sam mumbled around the small grin, never opening his eyes.

Dean dropped his forehead to Sam's thigh, sighing dismally through a self-deprecating laugh.

"It's not my fault," Dean's voice was muffled against the comforter, "Meyer's the one playin' it." His head shook, "I plead the fifth." He said pushing himself up the bed to lay level with Sam again, "Sorry I woke you." His covered Sam's hand, his thumb caressing smooth circles to the inside of his wrist.

"Worth it to hear you sing that song," Sam whispered, his eyes closing again, "It's beautiful."

Dean shook his head and smiled at his brother drifting off again, disclosing things he probably wouldn't fully conscious.

"Plus you put them to sleep." Sam breathed, taking Dean's hand and placing it against his belly, covering it with his own. "Thank you."

Dean leaned forward, pushed his mouth to Sam's temple, and laid back into the pillows, breathing against his brother's soft locks and letting himself drift away into unconsciousness - the remnants of the song still spinning through his mind, lulling him to sleep.

"And the Angels sang a whiskey lullaby…La, la, la, la, la, la, la."