15. Protective Instinct

I Wish I Was Your Brother

A/N: It's great to be writing this series again. I want to thank everyone who's put it on alert or chosen it as a favourite. This is for all of you. You guys rock.

- FIFTEEN -

Protective Instinct

It was more than plausible that one Winchester brother would commit murder to defend or protect the other. And most people who knew the boys had their bets on Dean. Bobby Singer even joked once that he was going to set up a trust fund so when the time came he would have a ready source of cash to post bail for John's eldest boy. Now I didn't doubt the need for such a fund; but although I wasn't a betting man, my money was on Sam.

I've known the Winchesters for a rather long time and my connection to the family runs deep. John and I became friends very soon after he made hunting his life's mission. When we met, he was a broken man, bitter and confused by the violent death of his wife, Mary. He was on a hunt in a town near my church and looking for a place to leave his kids while he went after a Wendigo. Once the hunt was over he accepted my invitation to stay and rest for a few days. He and his boys have been dropping by ever since. We even developed a bit of a tradition where Sam and Dean would stay a few weeks with me sometimes during the summers.

I was one of the few people who John took into his confidence after Mary's passing. To get him to share his story, I shared mine and that won his trust. He quickly understood that I knew, first-hand, the kind of damage the evil he had encountered could reap on a man's heart and his soul. He realised that although I was a clergyman, for me the devil wasn't some cartoon creature with a pitchfork and a long tail. For me, the hunt was real and John had a healthy respect for that.

It was this respect that gave me access to the edges of the inner sanctums of the Winchester family. But make no mistake, permission to approach, wasn't necessarily permission to enter. And while I never had the easy familiarity that Bobby Springer enjoyed with both John and his sons; I managed to get close enough to observe and understand the family's dynamics. That gave me an unencumbered view of the extraordinary bond between those Winchester boys.

Over the years, it broke and healed my heart to watch Sam and Dean. The truth is I had more in common with the Winchesters than hunting. Like them, I'd had my own family torn apart by evil.

I was only twelve when my home was attacked by what I later understood were demons. I woke suddenly in the dead of the night to hear my parents screaming and my mother begging for her children's lives. My big brother Stefan had come running into my room. He hugged me and told me not to be afraid. Then he had said I should jump out of the window and run to the church at the end of our road and tell the priests that Mom and Dad were in trouble. I'd told him to come with me, and he insisted that I should go first and he would follow. Then he kissed me on my forehead and told me he loved me.

It was the last thing he ever said to me.

By the time I got to the church and raised the alarm; and the priests organised a hunting party and rush to my house, my entire family was dead. When I overheard the clergymen discussing the massacre, they reasoned that Stefan had deliberately attracted the demons' attention to himself to give me time to escape. He managed to save my life, but he'd been torn to shreds.

In the years after I met John, I came to admire him for summoning up the strength to keep going after he and his boys had suffered such unspeakable tragedy. I'd never had his courage and I'd taken refuge in hunting; dedicating my life to expunging the evil that had ruined my family. I found sanctuary in the priesthood and decided from a very early age that I would have no wife and no children. Family made you vulnerable to the schemes of the devil; and I had no intention of presenting Satan with an Achilles heel.

Somehow John had been able to fight the battle and keep his sons from becoming dysfunctional even with the burden of their knowledge of just how powerful the forces of evil could be. However, in the face of their constant exposure to danger and death, those boys developed a powerful mutual protective instinct. Dean's love for his sibling was legendary and as far as most people were concerned, while it was extreme, it was also in-keeping with the natural order of things. After all, everyone knows that big brothers are protectors and little brothers are protected.

The so-called natural order was clearly reflected in the dynamics between Dean and Sam; but even when the boys were young I had detected something else. The ferocity with which Dean cared for his little brother was in fact equalled by the feral devotion that Sam had for him.

You see, that's what very few people were able to understand. Little brothers may be younger and most often smaller, but that didn't mean we didn't have the same innate desire to protect our protectors.

I never fully recovered from the revelation that my big brother had died trying to protect me. In fact, if fate had given me the choice I would have given my life to save him. So whenever I thought of Bobby's little joke about the trust-fund, my money was always on Sam.

My money was on Sam because in watching those boys grow up I had seen the extreme love and devotion that he had for his big brother. Maybe it was something only another little brother could truly understand. I'd watch that love evolve as Sam moved from toddler to teenager; and over the years it only seemed to grow in depth and intensity.

It was a love that some people seemed to have underestimated … and they did so at their peril.

The first time I saw that love clearly manifested Sam was only about ten years old. Dean had started going on hunts as soon as he became a teenager but John had relegated him to simple jobs. However, the summer he turned 14, John had taken Dean to track and kill a Missca and the nasty beast had tossed him around pretty badly before John was able to put it down.

Sam had stayed with me, planted on my front porch waiting for his father and brother to come back. When he saw his brother bruised and bloodied, he broke down and wept hysterically. While John clean, treated and bandaged Dean's wounds I tried, and failed, to calm Sam down. John hadn't wanted his youngest to see the injuries up close but the separation from his wounded brother left Sam inconsolable.

Finally, when John had Dean wrapped up in bed he said Sam and I could see him. As soon as we entered the room, Sam headed straight for the bed, obviously needing to be close to his big brother.

"Careful Sammy," John chided gently as Sam climbed onto the bed beside his injured sibling. "Your brother's pretty sore."

"It's O.K. Dad," Dean raised his arm so Sam could snuggle up next to him.

Seeing them like that brought back a flood of memories from when they were very younger. Little Sammy had always brought out Dean's soft side; a side I suspect Dean revealed to very few people. For me it had been fascinating to see Dean's face soften and his tone of voice change when his little brother reached out for him demanding to be hugged or cuddled. I used to watch, in amazement, as a change came over Dean whenever Sam climbed onto his lap or snuggled up beside him content and secure as long as he was close to his big brother. And even now that they were getting older, I still suspected that Sam's constant need for his attention and affection did more for Dean's self-esteem than a thousand compliments on his hunting skills from his father.

Now, even John was momentarily silenced by the calm that came over his boys as they held one another.

Sensing the family should be left alone, I excused myself but I paused to listen outside the door.

"Sammy," John goaded, "Your brother's a little banged up maybe you should stay in your own bed tonight."

"No," the small voice wailed in horrified objection. "I wanna stay with Dean."

"Sam," John warned gently, but Dean cut him off.

"It's alright Dad, honest," Dean whispered, clearly exhausted. "Sammy can sleep with me."

Even John knew better than to get between his boys when one was hurt or vulnerable.

"Alright," he relented. "I suppose you both need it. Good night boys, sleep well."

There was a brief, soft chorus of replies then I moved quickly to my own room before John caught me listening. Several moments later as I walked past the boys' door on my way to the living room I could hear Sam sobbing and Dean trying to sooth him.

"Everything's OK Sammy. I'm fine."

"No you're not," Sam sniffed. "You're hurt."

"Yeah, well it's nothing that won't be better in a few days so stop worrying."

"I don't want you to hunt Dean," Sam confessed. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Sammy, it's O.K, honest."

"You sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure."

"O.K," Sam relented, reluctantly. "Thanks for letting me stay with you."

"Thanks for wanting to," Dean said, yawning tiredly.

"Dean."

"Yeah Sammy."

"I'm scared for you."

"Don't be. Dad's not going to let anything happen to me and he's bigger and stronger than all the bad guys. I'll be O.K. Sam trust me."

Dean's assertion that their father's mere presence meant no serious harm would come to him seemed to work, for a while. But two years later, John's mystique had worn thin and a little brother's wrath was felt.

That summer, when the boys came to visit the dynamic between them seemed to have been changing. Dean was a typical teenager, craving adventure and revelling in the company of girls while Sam seemed moody and emotional. I tried a little to get him to open up and quickly discovered that Sam Winchester only spilled his guts to one person.

For his part, Dean seemed to be ignoring his brother's brooding until one afternoon, things came to a head. I came into my study to do some research and heard the boys arguing right under the window.

"We don't talk anymore," Sam had said and there was no mistaking the hurt in his voice.

It was so rare to hear a male express his emotions in such an unbridled manner that the sheer vulnerability of it moved me.

However, Dean didn't seem to be in the mood to play nice.

"What am I?" he asked mockingly. "Your girlfriend?"

"No," Sam said, his voice breaking on the single syllable. "You're my big brother."

I could tell from the muffled sounds that Sam had started sobbing. A tense silence followed. I listened apprehensively, wondering if I should intervene. I got up to look out the window in time to see Dean take his brother by the shoulders.

"Hey," he said softly. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Forget it," Unconvinced, Sam shrugged off Dean's grip then turned his back and continued to cry.

"Sammy," Dean tried again, this time gently turning his sibling back to face him. "I didn't mean to be a jerk. Come here."

Dean opened his arms and Sam moved into them and then lowered his head to rest on Dean's chest.

"I'm sorry," Dean soothed, rubbing his little brother's back. "It's O.K. Sammy, don't cry."

When the sobbing subsided Dean kept Sam close as he questioned him gently.

"O.K, what's up?" he asked, keeping his voice soft. "Why are you so emo all of a sudden?"

"It's kinda hard being here," Sam admitted.

"At Pastor Jim's? You love it here Sammy."

"Yeah, I do but this time it's tough."

"Why?"

"I don't know, I guess it's because we get to be in the same place for longer than a few days. We have a living room and a kitchen, we sleep in the same beds for more than one night and it just makes me wish it was like this all the time."

"Oh," Dean tightened his embrace and remained silent for a while, apparently contemplating his brother's words. "Sammy I know how much you wish things were different but even if we're not 'normal' ... you, me and Dad, we're a family. And so what if we're not like everyone else, we've got each other."

"But I feel like I never see you anymore," Sam complained. "Since we've been here, you've been acting like you don't even wanna be around me and all you wanna do is sneak off to have beer or go hang out with girls."

"When you're my age, all you'll wanna do is hang out with girls too," Dean joked.

"I don't think so," Sam pulled back and made a face.

"Trust me," Dean cuffed him gently on the chin. "Give it a few years and you'll understand."

"So you don't wanna hang with me?"

"Don't be an idiot Sammy, I always wanna hang with my pain in the butt little brother."

Finally, Sam smiled.

"You sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure," Dean said easily. "So what do wanna do today? You choose."

"Seriously?" Sam sounded genuinely excited now.

"Yeah, seriously," Dean slipped an arm around his sibling's shoulder and began leading him away from my window. "I'm all yours."

Suddenly Sam stopped and looked straight at his brother. "I'm all yours too," he said truthfully.

"Hey, come on," Dean held up his hands trying to downplay the rising emotions.

But Sam hadn't yet grasped that as a man he was to be cagey about his feelings, so if his brother felt weird, he didn't care.

"I mean it Dean," he said sincerely. "You're my big brother; you're the best thing in my life."

Even Dean couldn't let machismo rob them of this moment. "Well you've always been the best thing in mine," he admitted, gently mussing Sam's hair.

I turned away from the window and sat on the nearest seat that would accommodate me. I bit my lip and closed my eyes as I struggled to keep my emotions in check. Those deep, heartfelt admissions took me back to the night I was held, kissed and then helped out of a window. The night my big brother had told me that he loved me and I hadn't said it back. The night my big brother died for me not knowing that given the choice, I would have died for him.

Sam was almost the same age I had been when I lost Stefan but at least he hadn't let awkwardness or masculine pride stop him from letting Dean know how much he meant to him. If, God forbid, Dean should die tonight at least Sam could take comfort in the fact that his big brother knew he loved him.

Sadly, my thoughts almost proved prophetic.

A few days later Dean and John set out on hunt only to return with Dean bleeding and barely conscious. Sam had been left behind again and when John drove up and lifted a semi-comatose Dean out of the car Sam was shocked speechless. I quickly phoned Dr. Rory Barnes, a friend who provided medical care for hunters without asking questions. He came and performed what could well be categorised as minor surgery on Dean then left after his patient was stitched up and well-medicated.

Once it became clear that Dean was out of harm's way, Sam recovered his voice and was not in the mood to be reasonable. John had been out in my front yard getting some fresh air and trying to steady his nerves when he was suddenly accosted by his youngest.

Emboldened by both fear and fright, Sam tore into his father with unrelenting fury.

"What the hell happened?" Sam demanded squaring off with John despite their significant difference in height.

"You watch that tone." John warned. He knew, more than anyone, how Sam felt about his big brother but there was a limit to what he would take, even in a crisis.

"You were supposed to take care of him," Sam shrilled, his voice breaking with anger. "How could you let him get hurt like that?"

"It was an accident," John returned the heat, obviously unimpressed with the accusation.

"It wouldn't have happened if I was there," Sam argued.

"You?" John asked incredulously. "What could you have done?"

"I could have protected my big brother," Sam yelled furiously. "Like he's always done for me, like YOU should have done."

Absolutely stunned, I watched the scene unfold. That's when it became clear to me that Sam would take on anyone who he felt had let his brother get hurt, even his father. For his part I think John was staggered too.

"You think you're the only one who cares about him?" John asked his eyes wide with anger and shock. "You think I would ever deliberately let anything or anyone hurt him if I could prevent it?"

"No," Sam gasped sounding genuinely remorseful about the turn the conversation had taken. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" John asked more exasperated than angry.

Sam turned away from his father and covered his face with his hands. Suddenly, the rage had blown off leaving a quivering twelve year old, scared to death that he might lose the person who mattered the most to him.

"I can't stand to see him hurt," Sam sobbed, his voice breaking under the strain of his fear. "Dad, I just can't stand to see him hurt."

John was probably the toughest hunter I've ever come across but his weakness was his boys. Seeing Dean injured and having Sam cry would stir the kind of hurt he spent most of his time denying he was capable of feeling. He reached out for Sam and pulled him into a tight hug. Sam dissolved against him desperate for the comfort.

"I can't stand it either Sammy," John admitted softly. "But he'll be alright. I'll make sure of that."

John made the vow but Sam silently dedicated himself to making good on the promise. Having realised that Dean could actually suffer hurt under their father's watch Sam seemed to have concluded that he couldn't trust Dean's safety to anyone but himself. After that, he threw himself into hunting surprising even John with his willingness to volunteer even when the mission seemed dangerous. I understood that he was trying desperately to safeguard what mattered most to him.

Over the next few years I watched Sam develop a subtle but aggressive protective streak towards his brother. Then, the summer that Sam turned fifteen a most chilling incident occurred. John was on the trail of whatever killed his wife and had hastily deposited his sons at my place deeming the mission too dangerous for either of them. Dean had not been pleased about being left behind but John didn't entertain the argument. The boys had been with me for a few days when two hunters, Nolan and Gray dropped by. They said they were hunting a Scrender in some nearby woods and they were waiting for the full moon scheduled for the following night to bring him out. While I never completely trusted either of those men, any hunters staying in town or passing through were always welcomed to drop by my place.

They spent a few hours with me one afternoon and noticed Sam and Dean around the house.

"Say," Nolan quipped eyeing the brothers with interest, "Those are John Winchester's boys, aren't they."

"Yes," I responded, casually. "Sam and Dean."

It only lasted a few seconds but I noticed the look that passed between the two long-time partners.

"The older one's already getting a good reputation in hunting circles."

"John's trained him well," I said.

"Seems to me that a boy like that ought to be able to handle himself even without his Daddy around," Nolan speculated.

"Well since John's not here, I'm in charge, and the boys don't go on hunts without their father."

"And how old is that boy anyway?" Gray inquired.

"Eighteen," I informed him.

Again, the men exchanged conspiratorial looks.

"Eighteen," Gray repeated contemplatively. "That sounds just about right."

"Just about right for what?" I asked with enough of an edge in my voice to let both men know that I had no intention of compromising on John's rules for his sons.

Nolan jumped in quickly, silencing his partner with a dismissive wave. "Just about right to make his own decisions but if you say Daddy doesn't allow them out without him then that's that ain't it?"

I had thought that would be the end of the matter but then late the following evening I was coming downstairs and heard Dean and Sam arguing in the living room. From what I overheard of their conversation I quickly deduced that Nolan and Gray had somehow managed to approach Dean and convinced him to join the hunt.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sam was asking.

"On the hunt," Dean replied.

"But Dad's not here."

"And I can go without him. I'm legal anyway; I don't need Dad's permission."

"But you don't even know these guys."

"It's not like I'm planning to marry them Sam," Dean sneered. "Pastor Jim seemed OK with them and they're hunters, what more do I need to know?"

"So you're just going to go off?"

"I'll be back later tonight or early tomorrow."

"I don't want you to go."

"Sam."

"Dean, please. I got a bad feeling about this."

"Yeah but you always have a bad feeling."

"If you're going to go then let me come too," Sam insisted.

"No you're staying here. If anything happens to you I have to answer to Dad and I can do without the drama."

"So who exactly is answerable if anything happens to you?"

"I got this one. It's a straightforward hunt. This thing only comes out when there's a full moon so it'll come out tonight, we'll kill it and I'll be back before you know it."

"Not so fast," I intervened.

Both boys turned around to face me and it struck me, as it did when they had first arrived how much Sam had grown. He was now the same height as Dean, he had bulked up considerably and it was clear the growth spurt wasn't over. But I knew even if Sam eventually gained the height and weight advantage, he would always be the "little" brother.

"You know the rules Dean," I addressed John's eldest directly. "You're not allowed to go on hunts without your father."

"I'm eighteen Pastor Jim that no longer applies to me."

"Until your father informs me that the rules have been adjusted the status quo stands."

"With all due respect Pastor Jim, legally I'm an adult, so you really can't tell me what to do."

"Dean!" Sam objected.

"No Sam," I said calmly, deciding to appeal to reason. "Dean is right; he's old enough to make his own decisions. But, Dean, I have to tell you, Nolan and Gray would not be my choice of partners for your first outing without your father."

I forgot that Dean was a Winchester, stubborn and proud. Consequently, my expression of concern was interpreted as a challenge.

"I can handle myself," Dean declared, eyes flaring with defiance.

That had been the end of the matter. And when Nolan and Gray came to pick him up later that night, I didn't protest when Dean walked out the front door.

While Dean was gone Sam combed through all my books trying to find more information on the Scrender. It wasn't a creature I was familiar with and so I had no idea where to tell him to look. When I turned in that night he was still at it. I figured the hunt would be over and Dean would return before he stopped reading. Sometime after midnight I heard an urgent knock on my bedroom door. I opened up to see Sam, his face stricken with panic.

"I found it," he said urgently.

"Where?" I asked. "I wasn't aware that I had any kind of information on Screnders. I've never even heard of them."

"I found it in my Dad's journal," Sam said holding up a leather binder filled with papers which looked very much like the book I'd always seen John using to take notes. "Pastor Jim, I think Dean's in trouble."

"Calm down Sam," I admonished. "What did you read?"

"Dad said these things feed during the full moon and they prey on adolescent males."

"What?" I ran to my bedside table to get my glasses and then took the book from Sam.

"Dad wrote that the best way to catch one is to use live bait."

"Oh dear God!" I looked at the pages hurriedly seeing that John's notes confirmed what Sam had said. "I never really trusted Nolan and Gray but it's hard to think that any hunter would use a kid as bait to catch a creature?"

"I told Dean I had a bad feeling about this. Pastor Jim, we've got to go find him. My gut's telling me my brother's in trouble."

"O.K," I said, wracking my brain trying to figure out how to approach this particular dilemma. "Let me put on some clothes and then we'll decide what to do."

"Hurry," Sam urged, stepping out of the room to allow me some privacy.

When I emerged a few moments later fully dressed Sam was still in the hallway, pacing.

"Did they say where they were going?" He asked as I stepped out of my room.

"No. Just that Screnders rest in the woods. The nearest place dense enough for a creature to hide is about half hour out of town. We can start there."

We both headed downstairs and were crossing the living room to go through my front door when the telephone rang. At this hour, the shrill sound gave me the chills. Phone calls after midnight rarely meant good news.

"Hello," I answered urgently.

On the other end I could hear Nolan and Gray arguing before Nolan realised I'd picked up.

"Jim," he said, his voice trembling with panic. "You'd better call that doctor friend of yours and see if he can come by real quick."

"What happened?"

"The hunt didn't really go according to plan and young Dean sustained some injuries."

Sam must have seen the shock register on my face because he immediately started asking questions.

"Where are they? What did they do to my brother?"

I raised a hand to quiet him.

"What happened to Dean?" I demanded.

"The Scrender got to him Jimmy. Me and Gray were able to kill it but it did a little bit of damage before we could put its lights out."

I breathed in deeply, wondering how in heaven's name I would tell John that one of his boys had gotten hurt on my watch.

"How quickly can you get here?"

"In about 20 minutes."

"Do it in 10." I ordered.

I terminated the call and then quickly dialled Dr. Barnes and told him it was an emergency. By the time I finished talking to him I realised that Sam had gone out to the veranda to wait for the return of the ill-fated hunting party. Whatever he had gathered about his brother's condition from listening to me, had told him enough.

When I stepped out on the porch and he turned to look at me there was fire in his eyes. His young face betrayed an abject rage that was so potent I thought it would blaze up and burn me.

I remembered the last time we were together when Dean came home from a hunt injured. I remembered how Sam had railed at his father for allowing harm to come to his brother. And that had been the hurt and anger of a pre-adolescent boy. Now, I was looking at an enraged young man with the strength of a bull and the skills of a trained killer to act on his fury.

Suddenly, I felt very afraid.

The doctor arrived first and immediately began setting up shop in my guest room. He knew the drill and could find clean sheets and plenty towels on his own. What seemed like hours later Nolan's dilapidated vehicle came rumbling up my driveway. Sam bolted from the porch and ran towards the old car. Nolan barely managed to hit the brakes before Sam yanked open the back door to get to his brother. I ran up behind Sam and quickly assisted him in lifting Dean out of the car. Dr. Barnes rushed out of the house behind us trying to get a look at Dean and assess his injuries.

"Get him inside," the doctor ordered after just a quick once over.

Nolan and Gray jumped out of the car and ran around to help but they weren't fast enough. Sam and I carried Dean into the house and up the stairs, and then laid him out on the bed in the room Dr. Barnes had prepared. I noted that he had covered the bed with a thick sheet of plastic to make the post opt clean up easier.

Quickly and gently, Sam and I deposited Dean on the bed. When he was fully laid out, we had a chance to look at him and it wasn't pretty. His T-shirt was soaked in blood which appeared to be seeping from wounds to his chest.

"I need to be alone with my patient," Dr. Barnes said, digging in his bag for the necessary equipment.

But Sam stood his ground. "I'm not leaving my brother," he said, his mouth set in a thin line.

"Sam," Dr. Barnes didn't look up from his work. "There's nothing you can do."

"I can help," Sam insisted.

"Sure you can, and you can start by letting me to my job."

I dropped a hand on Sam's shoulder to steer him out of the room. We both paused to look back at Dean, aghast at the bloody mess. I swallowed hard when Dr. Barnes cut away his T-shirt revealing what appeared to be extensive injuries. I quickly recalled that John's notes said that Screnders fed on vital organs first and I realised that those wounds had most likely been inflicted while the creature was trying to tear out Dean's heart.

I glanced over at Sam and saw that he was carrying out his own assessment. A dark look shadowed his usually innocent eyes sending me the disturbing signal that he had come to the same conclusion. Instantly, Sam turned and walked out of the room, heading downstairs to the kitchen where Nolan and Gray were waiting, anxiously.

"What happened?" Sam asked his tone was so controlled and deliberate that my blood ran cold.

"Things kinda got out of control," Gray volunteered anxiously wringing his hands. "We set a trap and..."

"We had a good plan," Nolan cut him off. Being the smart one in their little duo, he must have sensed Sam's mounting rage. "But things got off kilter and Dean got hurt."

"You used him as bait, didn't you," Sam said so softly that I was now deathly afraid.

"Now look here boy," Nolan held his hands up in an appeasing gesture. "No one deliberately tried to hurt your brother."

For the second time in less than half an hour I saw black rage redden Sam's face and his eyes flare with anger.

"Screnders feed on adolescent boys, not on grown men, neither of you could have lured it out of hiding, but Dean could. You used my brother as prey for that monster."

"So what if we did," Gray seemed to have gotten fed up of being interrogated by a 15 year old, even if he did look more like 20. "Hunters use all kinds of bait all the time. And Dean's got plenty experience by now, we figured he'd be quick enough and smart enough to get out of the way in time."

"So he didn't even know?" Sam hissed. "You put Dean's life at risk and he didn't even know the game plan?"

"We got to him in time," Gray bragged even as I prayed he'd wise up and shut his mouth. "Plus we killed that nasty Scrender and this town is safer for everyone."

"Wrong on that score," Sam seethed stepping towards Gray. "It's safer for everyone besides the two of you."

One minute Gray was standing there looking defiant and the next he was gasping and pleading for his life. Sam backed him up against the kitchen wall and then his hands clamped on to Gray's neck like forceps.

I froze as I watched the quiet, gentle young man seemingly intent on committing murder in my kitchen.

Nolan was quicker to respond; he grabbed Sam from behind and tried to pull him off his partner. In my estimation, it was Nolan's action that saved Gray's life because when Nolan refused to let go, Sam turned on him. While Gray slipped to the floor gagging, a fist flew to Nolan's gut doubling him over. Then several more punches flew and the round of blows was capped off with a right hook to Nolan's bowed face which sent crumpling to the ground.

It was when Sam set his sights back on Gray that I pulled myself out my shocked stupor and grabbed him in a firm shoulder lock. This young man, who I had known since he was a little boy, was not going to shed blood under my roof.

"Stop it!" I ordered with a firmness that John himself would have been hard pressed to surpass.

"They hurt my brother," Sam said as if that justified this severe level of retaliation. "They risked his life to catch a freaking monster."

He strained to get out of my grasp but I held on with all my strength knowing, with a deep certainty, that I held Sam's fate in my hands.

"So what are you going to do?" I asked desperately, "Kill them?"

The silent response told me that I wasn't far from the mark. On my kitchen floor, nursing their wounds, Nolan and Gray realised the same thing.

"Well I'll be damned," Nolan hissed, holding his stomach with one hand while trying to pull himself up with the other. "That boy's as crazy as his Daddy."

Still flat on the ground, coughing and rubbing his sore neck, Gray couldn't respond.

"It's always the quiet ones that you gotta watch out for," Nolan got to his feet but barely managed to keep his balance.

"Get out!" I shouted with fierceness that was unbecoming of a clergyman. "Leave now, before I let him loose and you both know he'll kill you."

For two men nursing injuries they managed to haul themselves out of my house in record time. In spite of my threat I held on to Sam until Nolan's car cleared my driveway. I knew if I released him he would most likely chase after the vehicle to finish what he had started. When I could no longer hear the rumble of the car's engine I let Sam go. He blew out of the kitchen, went upstairs and sat in the hallway outside the guest room door and waited.

The doctor worked on Dean for almost an hour and the whole time, Sam didn't move. I stayed in the living room to give Sam some space and didn't go upstairs until I heard the bedroom door open.

"He's going to be O.K," Dr. Barnes was assuring Sam when I joined the conversation. "It wasn't as bad as it looked. Whatever attacked him was obviously stopped before it did some real damage but he's got some nasty slashes."

Sam nodded solemnly.

"He's going to have to be on some heavy painkillers and antibiotics for a little while," the doctor continued.

"I'll make sure he takes them," Sam said before I could even respond.

"I know you will," Dr. Barnes said. "His cuts will need to be dressed every day and the bandages have to be changed daily as well."

"I'll handle that too," once again Sam was leaving no doubt as to who would be responsible for Dean.

"I'll pass by day after tomorrow to check up on him, but if he starts experiencing any unexpected symptoms like fever or severe pain, please call me immediately, O.K."

"I will." Again, it was Sam who answered. "And thanks for everything Dr. Barnes."

"Don't mention it kid. I sedated him and he's drifting in and out, so he's going to be pretty incoherent. Once he falls asleep he should be out for the rest of the night so you two get some rest."

"I'm staying with my brother," Sam said firmly.

Dr. Barnes shook his head as Sam stepped past him and went into the guest room. "Why am I not surprised?"

I saw the doctor out and when I came back to the room Sam was sitting on Dean's bed, his brother's hand in his.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again," he was saying softly.

"Sorry," Dean muttered, sounding completely spaced out. He would be in oblivion very soon.

"You should be," Sam feigned sternness, but then his voice hitch and his head dropped. "My god Dean, I could have lost you."

"M'sorry."

Sam took a deep breath to pull himself together. "Make it up to me by getting better quick."

"'K." Dean's head fell limply to one side.

"Just rest," Sam soothed, running his free hand through his brother's hair. "I'll be right here if you need me."

"I kn'w" was the last thing Dean uttered.

"Idiot," Sam whispered to his sleeping brother, his voice laced with anguish and fondness. "I love you so damn much."

I moved away from the door knowing that I was dangerously on the verge of breaking down. With all my heart I missed Stefan and knew I would have given anything to be able to say those words to him sleeping or awake. I took refuge in my room until the sudden wave of grief had crested over me and I regained control of my emotions. Then I got up to do my duty. Yes, I too was a little brother, but after tonight's events, I needed to have a serious talk with Sam.

Naturally, I found him at Dean's bedside, still holding on to his brother's hand. I knew it didn't make any sense to tell him to go to his own bed, he wouldn't leave his brother.

He looked up when he heard me enter but there wasn't the slightest hint of culpability on his face. When I gently admonished him for his earlier violent outburst he responded with defiance.

"They used by brother as bait," he repeated. "They almost got him killed."

"What they did was reprehensible and I'm in no way excusing it. But Sam, if I hadn't held you back you would have killed both those men."

"Maybe," Sam didn't flinch.

"Listen to yourself," I urged. "I fully respect the fact that you feel responsible for Dean's safety and wellbeing but even so Sam, there's a line that you cannot cross."

"There's nothing I won't do to make sure he's alright."

Clearly, I was losing this argument; but I wasn't going to give up until he came around to my way of thinking.

"I know you love him more than anything, but promise me you won't cross that line."

Sam looked me dead in the eyes. "I won't make a promise I'm not sure I can keep."

Now, it was me who flinched.

"Sam," I made one last attempt. "I understand how you feel about Dean, after all, I'm a little brother too."

"You can never understand," he dismissed me and turned his attention back to Dean's sleeping form. "You may be a little brother, but you're not Dean Winchester's little brother."

THE END

Don't change the channel. When it comes to our favourite boys, they're always more stories. I hope you'll keep coming along for the ride. Stay tuned for more...