Some Nights

It Takes Two

caution: contains the spanking of an older brother by the name of Winchester. 

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Dean winced as the Impala hit a bumpy patch in the road, gritting his teeth, and willing himself not to touch his side. It stung like a mofo, not that he was going to let Sam know that. Sam was probably already on high alert because Dean had asked him to drive. He had told his little brother that it was because the fight had tired him out, and he just wanted to sleep, hoping that his brother would accept it, but it seemed that it had only spiked concern.

"Are you okay?"

Dean glanced at Sam, realizing he was biting his lip so hard he tasted blood. It was dark in the Impala, so maybe Sammy didn't notice. "Yeah." His voice sounded a bit rough. "Fine. You?"

"I'm okay, Dean." Sam gripped the wheel, taking a breath. "But I saw that thing attack you. Did it make contact? Are you in pain?"

"No." Dean tried to say, casually shifting in his seat. He regretted the motion instantly, the pain spreading like wildfire up the entire right side of his body. Dean closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the head rest. "It's just a scratch anyways. I'll take care of it when we get to the motel."

Sam hesitated, and Dean felt him looking at him again, eyeing him closely. "Okay, Dean." He finally said, giving Dean the benefit of the doubt once more.

Dean breathed a sign of relief that was cut off by another flame of pain in his side. Just a scratch. It's just a scratch. But if it was just a scratch, why did it feel like his insides were leaking out? He glanced at his brother, wondering if he should tell him the truth. They would go to the hospital, get stitched up. No harm, no foul.

"That was a close one today." Sam said suddenly.

"Hm?" Dean shook out of his thoughts, and turned his head towards his brother. Sam was holding the wheel tightly, staring out the window. Dean wondered if he was actually seeing the road. 

"It's like every time there is a close call, somebody gets hurt, someone gets injured. When will we ever be done with this vicious cycle?"

Dean chewed his lip. Sammy sounded tired, exhausted actually. "I don't know," He answered honestly.

"I can't take it anymore." Sam sighed. "I hate the thoughts that cross my mind when we are facing down supernatural creatures."

"What thoughts?" Dean asked quietly, having an idea of where it was going.

"Is this the last time I get to see you? Is a vampire going to stab you through your heart? Is a werewolf going to rip your head off?"

"Geez," Dean tried to chuckle, but found his own throat tight with emotion. That was exactly what always crossed his mind too. "We've done this our whole lives."

"And how many times have we died, Dean?" Sam gripped the wheel tighter. Even in the dark, Dean could see the white of his brother's knuckles. "We've been lucky so far. The universe needs us, apparently. But what if next time you don't come back? What if you are actually dead?"

"Sammy, don't." Dean pinched his nose, trying to stay calm. "Look, our job sucks. I get that. There's a ton of risk, and no payouts really."

"Except for saving the world." Sam interjected. "That's a big payout."

"Yes." Dean pointed at him. "Exactly. The benefits are that we save people."

"Saving people, hunting things, " Sam began.

"The family business." Dean grinned at him.

They were quiet a moment, reliving past experiences and moments. Finally Sam sighed. "But that all changes if you die."