Catch Me When I Fall

Stairs

Really sorry for lack of update :( I feel bad, anyway enjoy

Four days later, Dean still wasn't eating. Sam and Bobby were getting more worried. "He can't keep going like this," said Sam, chewing on his fingernail.

"I know, Sam. He's starting to look like a walking skeleton with skin."

Sam was about to reply when they suddenly heard thudding sounds in the hallway. "DEAN!" yelled the two men, running in the direction of the stairs where they found Dean laying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh god," whispered Sam as he ran over, and knelt beside his prone brother. "Dean, can you hear me?"

Dean groaned, and tried to sit up. "Don't move, son. Ya just fell down the stairs," said Bobby, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder to prevent him from moving.

"I'm fine. I felt a little dizzy, that's all." Dean slowly sat up, and put his hand over his face. When he removed the hand, he looked surprised when he saw Sam and Bobby watching him worriedly. "What?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "What? Are you kidding? You look like a bag of bones, and you fell down the stairs. And you just say 'what'?"

"What the hell do you want me to do? Come out with a speech?" said Dean, getting up slowly.

The other two men shook their heads at the stubborn older Winchester.

Sam stood with him, and grabbed his arm. "Sam, get off me." Dean tried shrugging the hand off him, but Sam wasn't moving from his side, instead he wrapped his other arm around his thin waist as they made their slow way over to the couch.

Sam lowered his brother down into a sitting position, and sat beside him. "Are you sick? Tell me the truth," he said, staring at Dean with a serious expression.

"I'm not sick. I felt a little dizzy, and fell down a couple of stairs."

"But what if you felt dizzy at the top, and fell down and broke your neck? You probably felt dizzy because you haven't eaten in days. Now tell me the truth."

"I promise you, I'm not sick. If I was sick, you'd probably see me going to the docs or something," Dean tried to reassure his brother.

"Yeah right. You probably wouldn't go to the doctors if your arm was hanging off. You'd probably say 'it's just a scratch'. So if you're not sick, then why aren't you eating?" Sam folded his arms, he wasn't moving until Dean answered him. "It can't be a curse or anything, because we haven't been separated during a hunt for months, and it hasn't been going on that long." At least he didn't think it had.

"Sam, will you calm down? I'm okay."

Bobby sighed, and joined the two. "Yer not okay, Dean. I know it, yer brother knows it, and I think ya know it too."

"You promise me you're not sick?" asked Sam quietly, sounding like a child.

"I'm not sick, Sam. I promise. I swear on the Impala, I'm not sick."

Sam looked at Bobby, who shrugged. There's no way Dean would swear on that car, and lie about something. "Okay then. But there's got to be a reason for you not eating, the only things I can think of are... Curse, sickness, depression or an eating disorder."

"Sam, I'm not sick, cursed, depressed, and I'm not a teenage girl. So that leaves nothing." Dean turned away from his family. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm fine, just leave me alone."

Bobby and Sam looked at each other again. The younger Winchester took a deep breath, and fought the tears that threatened to build up. Dean was usually always strong, and it was hard and heartbreaking to see him like this. "Dean, look at me."

Dean took a deep breath, and turned to face his brother and his second father.

"You're not fine, Dean. You can't be completely fine, and not eat for no reason. And we're not going to sit back and let you starve to death, let us help. Please Dean."

"I'm fine. What do I have to do to prove it? Start doing a happy dance? Because that would be weird any day of the week," said Dean, trying to sound like his old self.

"Listen to yer brother, Dean. Let us help ya." Bobby watched him carefully, in-case he took off again. "Yer like a son to me, and we can't sit back and watch ya being like this. Yer breaking my heart, kid."

"I just can't," Dean whispered quietly, looking down at his hands.

"You can't what? Eat?" Sam swore Dean looked like a little boy right now. He wanted nothing more than to pull him into his arms, and give him a hug, but he knew he would probably get a smack in the face for it.

"Dunno," replied Dean, playing with his sleeve. "I... I can't do this. I have to..." He suddenly stood up, breathing shakily.

Sam stood, and held onto Dean's arms to stop him from running again. "Hey, hey. Calm down, Dean." He lowered Dean gently down onto the couch. 'Oh hell with it,' he thought, and gently wrapped his arms around him.

Dean surprised them both by allowing it. He closed his teary eyes, and melted into Sam's arms.

"I got you, Dean. I got you, big brother."