Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Coming Home

Chapter 2

Dean's side throbbed painfully and he felt hot all over. The thought of moving was not very appealing, but he had no choice. He was all alone and his throat was do dry. He was going to choke if he didn't get something to drink. Dean longed for the days when he hunted with his younger brother. Not that Dean had allowed Sam to do much to help him, but a gut wound was extraordinarily painful and Sam could have helped him with any necessary movements. But Sam had chosen to leave the hunting life and settle down. Dean knew his brother had always wanted "normal," and didn't fault him one bit for his choice. He just missed always having Sam around, especially now when he had nearly been gutted.

His thoughts were foggy from the pain radiating from his middle and medication he didn't remember taking. Dean couldn't remember going to a hospital to get stitched up, but he was pretty sure he hadn't sewn up his own wound. He groaned and placed a hand over his injured side as pain stabbed into him, hot and sharp.

"Easy," a voice soothed as a cool rag landed on his forehead.

Dean sighed with relief as the coolness soaked into his overheated skin. That felt so good.

"You have a pretty high fever," the voice continued. "You can have more antibiotics in a few hours."

The voice sounded so much like his baby brother that it made his heart ache, but it couldn't be him. Sam was somewhere in a cozy home holding an infant daughter in his arms. But still… "Sam?" Dean queried groggily, pretty sure he was delirious. He worked to force his eyes open, but the lids were so heavy.

"Just rest, Dean. Your body needs to heal. I'll be here when you wake up," his brother's voice reassured him.

Dean was nearly certain that he was hallucinating. "Sam?" he croaked again. It couldn't possibly be his brother. It had to be another hunter or even a random stranger, but he missed Sam so badly that his body was making him believe that his brother was there.

Deciding that getting his eyelids open was too difficult a task at the moment, Dean tried to figure out where he was. He discarded the idea of a hospital because the room didn't smell like antiseptic and the bed was too comfortable. The air didn't have the stale quality of an old, cheap motel room either. There was no tang of old cigarette smoke to tingle his nostrils and no ancient heater rattled from beneath the window.

Confusion warred within him, and Dean forced his eyes open at long last. The effort exhausted him. He blinked and focused on a white ceiling, a clean white ceiling with no stains unlike most of the motels he'd stayed in over the years. Dean turned his head to the side and the world began to spin. Nausea twisted sickly in his stomach and he swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat.

A trash can appeared next to him, and gentle yet strong hands supported him as he gagged painfully into its depths although his stomach was very nearly empty. Pain stabbed through his side as he heaved and tears of pain coursed unbidden down his cheeks. Blackness crept into the edges of his vision as his body broke out in a cold sweat. Strong arms caught him as he slumped forward into welcoming darkness.

Sam eased his brother's sweaty, over-heated form back onto the bed and grimaced at the mess in the trash can. He quickly cleaned it out and placed it back beside the bed just in case Dean needed it. Next, he gently removed Dean's soiled, sweaty shirt and slipped a fresh white t-shirt over his head. Last, he wiped his brother's face with a cool cloth, a smile tugging at his lips as Dean sighed in relief.

The last few hours had passed slowly. Sam still wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to get his brother down the basement steps to the room he'd set up for him, but Dean was now safely tucked into "his" bed. Sam scrubbed a hand over his face; he was exhausted. Sleep had been scarce lately. Between caring for a newborn daughter, grieving over the loss of his wife, and worrying about the safety of his brother, Sam had been awake more than asleep most nights.

Sam sank down into the recliner he'd placed in the corner of Dean's room. It was made of good quality, dark brown leather. A soft plaid blanket was folded neatly over the back just in case Dean got cold while watching TV, just in case he decided he ever wanted to visit his younger brother. Sam pulled the blanket over him as he reclined in the chair. Exhaustion tugged at him, but he was reluctant to sleep. Dean's fever was creeping a little higher than he'd like and Hannah would wake soon demanding to be fed. Within a few minutes, he was snoring softly, his body completely exhausted.

Dean was hot, not just regular hot, but nearly scorching. It was like he was burning up from the inside out. His stomach was on fire, and the heat seemed to radiate out to the rest of his body. Heat licked at his skin an the felt as if he was burning alive. Had he been carried back to hell? Had he died and been sent back to the fiery depths?

The heat was all-consuming now. His body writhed as he burned. Hoarse screams escaped his parched lips as he burned from the inside out. "Sam!" he screamed. Sam would be the only one who could figure out a way to save him from this torture. The agony only continued, and his body contorted with pain. "Sam, please!" Dean begged pitifully, tears clogging his voice. "I can't, Sammy; I just can't," he pleaded. "So hot, Sammy. I'm burning….just burning."

Sam woke to his brother's screaming. "Sam!"

He threw himself out of the recliner, nearly tipping the chair forward on top of him. He flung the blanket that tangled around his long legs to the floor and leaned over his thrashing, sobbing brother. Dean's face was flushed red with fever, and the heat radiating off of his body was alarming. Sam glanced at the clock and sighed in relief. Dean could have another dose of antibiotic.

Sam quickly procured two antibiotic pills and two Tylenol and opened the bottle of water on the bedside table. "Dean, I need you to take these for me," he urged his brother gently.

Dean only thrashed about on the bed. "So hot, Sammy. I'm burning…just burning."

Sam's heart pounded in his chest and sweat beaded on his forehead. Dean thought he was back in Hell. "Dean, you're safe," he promised as he sank to the edge of the bed and attempted to get his brother to take the pills. "You're not there anymore; I promise."

"Get away from me!" Dean flailed his arms weakly as he tried to push Sam away from him. "Sam, help me! Sam!"

"I'm right here, Dean," Sam soothed, as he put the water and medicine down on the bedside table and managed to wrangle one arm around his older brother. "I've got you; it's okay. You're not back there, Dean, and I'm never letting you go back." He wrapped his arms around his brother tightly; the clean t-shirt he'd slipped on Dean earlier was now damp with sweat and clung to the injured man's body. "I promise you aren't there."

Dean twisted in Sam's grip, his head meeting Sam's collarbone hard as he turned to look at the face of the man holding him. His eyes were feverish and unseeing. "Where's m'brother?" Dean ground out through clenched teeth. He strained to free himself. "I need Sam."

"I'm right here, Dean. You're safe. I just need you to take some medicine for me. It will help you cool down," Sam promised, the heat radiating from Dean's body causing him to break out in a sweat. He tightened his arms slightly around his brother in a hug and rested his cheek against his brother's sweaty hair.

Dean blinked. "You can't be him," he nearly sobbed. "You can't be Sam. He's safe. He's free."

Sam tightened his grip on the older hunter and pressed the water bottle to Dean's lips. "Here, you're dehydrated. Drink some water for me."

Dean fought it. He wasn't sure what poison was in the bottle being held to his lips, and he knew he shouldn't drink any of it, but his mouth was so dry. His tongue clung to the roof of his mouth and his body was still on fire. He longed for the taste of cool, clear water to ease the burning sensation that roared through him.

"Drink it for me," Sam urged gently. "It's safe; you're safe," he promised the terrified man in his arms, doing his best to keep his voice calm and reassuring, although it was difficult to keep the panic from creeping into his tone.

Dean shook his head jerkily causing some of the water to spill down his white shirt.

"Come on, Dean," Sam urged. "Don't make me haul you to a hospital; you're dehydrated and probably have an infection."

Fire and pain so sharp it made him groan sliced across Dean's stomach and he sagged against the body holding him so tightly. He was exhausted and in pain. He was on fire. He could fight no longer. The bottle was pressed to his lips once again, and he managed a small sip. His tongue rejoiced as the cool moisture flowed over it.

"Good job, Dean," Sam encouraged as he slipped the pills between his brothers lips. "Try to drink enough to get these pills down." Sam smiled in relief as Dean took three more swallows of water.

Replacing the bottle on the nightstand, Sam spooned some applesauce Into his brother's mouth, relieved when Dean swallowed automatically and didn't fight him. He managed to get most of the small container into his brother before Dean dropped off into a deep sleep.

"Get some rest while I check out this wound, big brother," Sam sighed, worried about what he was going to find when he lifted the bandage. He gathered all of the supplies he thought he might need before washing and gloving up his hands to prevent more germs from getting into his brother's wound.

Lifting the bandage, he bit back a curse at the sight of the angry, inflamed flesh. Using the wound care knowledge he learned from his father, Bobby Singer, and other hunters over the years, he cleaned Dean's wound, wincing each time his brother groaned with pain. By the time he was covering the infected row of stitches and throwing away his used supplies, Hannah's cries were reverberating throughout the house.

Sam covered Dean with the sheets and warm blankets. "I'll be back soon," he promised. "I need to go get Hannah. She's hungry." He stood and stared at his brother for just a moment longer. "I can't wait until you're well enough to meet her. She's going to love you."

Forcing himself to move, Sam washed his hands and then headed straight to his daughter's room. Her tiny face was scrunched up in anger and her little fists waved frantically in her air. Her tummy was hungry and it had taken her daddy too long to come and get her. Sam scooped her into his arms and pressed kisses to her damp cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Hannah," he murmured against her soft skin. "I was taking care of Uncle Dean."

Sam changed the baby's wet diaper quickly and then carried her into the kitchen to heat up a bottle for her. Hannah squalled against his shoulder angrily. She was hungry. "Shhh," Sam soothed. "Uncle Dean needs his sleep, baby girl."

Sam cradled Hannah in his arms and tucked the nipple between her rosebud lips. She suckled hungrily and her cries immediately stopped. Sam sighed with relief as the quiet settled over the house. He carried his daughter upstairs and returned to the recliner in Dean's room.

Hannah studied her father's face as she ate greedily. Sam smiled down at her. "Just as soon as your Uncle Dean is feeling better, I'm gong to introduce you to him," he promised her. "You're going to have him wrapped around your little finger the first time he holds you." Hannah blinked sleepily and rubbed at her eyes with one pudgy fist.

Sam situated her against his shoulder where she drowsily let out a loud burp. He chuckled softly. "Your Uncle Dean will be proud of how well you burp. I know he will make a comment about it."

Hannah yawned and pressed her face into Sam's shoulder. He rubbed her back in soothing circles until she relaxed against him, deep in slumber once again.

Sam glanced over at his brother. Dean slept restlessly, circles of red standing out starkly against his pale face. His fever was still too high. Despite Sam's best efforts, a trip to the hospital was still a very real possibility. Standing with an exhausted sigh, Sam returned his daughter to her bed crib and then made his way back to Dean's room, determined to keep watch over his brother.

To Be Continued…