The Easter Bunny failed again they still are not mine.

When Dean Winchester had pictured Easter dinner and the way things would play out this was not part of the plan. He and Jim had made honey glazed ham that was meant to be at the center of the table, surrounded by mashed potatoes, Jim's secret fresh rolls, and green beans. However there was no ham on the table that night. Instead of a plate of savory pork laid out on the table was Dean's giant little brother, bloody and broken. The only thing surrounding this gory center piece was a container of dental floss and the needle they had used to sew up the turkey's ass at thanksgiving a couple months before. Bloody gauze replaced dirty napkins and pained whimpers replaced the moans and groans of a table full of men who had over eaten.

Dean had been kicked out of the kitchen after nearly sending Sam into a panic attack trying to figure out what happened, John had thus far remained tight lipped and stoic. So here Dean sat on the front porch with a bottle of Jim's homemade brew in hand wallowing. Pouting that he had been banned from comforting his brother, hating the fact that if he hadn't been laid up after having a collapsed lung and a broken leg he would have been there to watch Sam's back. This hunt had originally been John's very late birthday present to Dean they'd been researching for the past month and a half.

Dean heard the urgent whispers of the triad members and his father's harsh rumble in an attempt to comfort Sam. Dean could imagine the mantra John was telling Sam. "You gotta keep breathing Sam" as Sam held his breath in an attempt to ride out the pain. "Just hang tough kid, you just gotta hang on a little longer." And the reprimands for when he tensed up and fought against Mac. "Don't fight me Sam, you're making this harder on all of us."

Then Dean finally heard the first glimmer of reason "John I think we should go to the hospital." Mac suggested, in that tone that coveys it's not really a suggestion.

"Dad's right Johnny, he's lost a lot of blood-"

"We can do a transfusion here if we need to, Dean's the same blood type." He heard Sam cry out, "Damnit Samuel, you need to lay still or so help me…I don't care if you are hurting, you need to let Mac patch you up, do you understand me?" His dad barked.

"John-" Caleb began only to be cut off by John's angry roar.

"We're not taking him to the damn emergency room, Caleb if you have a problem with it get out!" Caleb's reply came muffled and low but John clearly didn't like what the younger hunter had to say. "I said get out, Go check on Dean." There was a beat of silence, "GO CALEB!" John bellowed, and almost immediately Dean could hear Caleb stomping towards the back door leading to Dean's timeout area.

Caleb slammed the door then scanned the porch looking for Dean, "Deuce…how ya doin' man. Are you okay?"

"How bad is he?" Dean asked his immediate concern for his little brother. He noticed Caleb's skeptical look. "I'm fine, just tell me how Sam is." Dean huffed exasperated.

Caleb ran a hand through his hair, "Dean I don't know what you want me to say, you saw the damage…" Caleb let the statement hang there. They had both seen the gruesome aftermath of Dean's birthday hunt gone horribly wrong.

He was about to respond when they heard, "Shit, John this is bad I can't fix this here-"

"We don't have a choice Mac." John interrupted.

"It's a good thing it's not a choice any more. I will not sit here and let your kid bleed to death. We're going to the hospital…I can't believe I let you talk me in to doing this much."

"HE"S NOT GOING TO DIE," bellowed John.

"John," Mac spoke softly almost too soft for Dean and Caleb to hear, "John he will if he doesn't get the care he needs. Things I can't give him here… please John?" Mac was pleading, begging his dad to see reason. Dean didn't hear his dad's reply but he did hear the relieved murmuring of Mac. "Dean Caleb we need some help in here." The young men scrambled inside the kitchen the sight before them looked like a scene out of a horror movie. There was blood everywhere, Sam's face was ghostly pale and covered in sweat. Caleb stepped in to the next room to talk to the rest of the triad.

Dean didn't waste any time shifting into big brother mode getting into Sam's line of vision and pasting on a fake smile. "What's up you little bitch, making all this fuss so that we have to take you to the ER. Admit it you just want the chance to check out some nurses."

Sam choked out a laugh then grimaced in pain, "I just don't want to eat anything you've made, even hospital food is better than you're cooking."

The middle Winchester feigned offense, "You'd stave if it wasn't for me we all know who inherited dad's cooking ability." The lack of response from Sam perked Dean's interest. "Sammy?" Sam's eyes had slipped closed and his skin had grown grey, Dean felt fear grip his heart, "Sam?" Dean noticed the lack of movement from Sam's chest. "Nononnonono, Dad!" his throat had grown tight, "Don't you do this to me Sam, you better not quit on me."

The sound of hurried feet behind him brought little relief when he heard it, Mac and his father hovered around the table. Mac listened to Sam's chest for a second before a grim look came over his face. "We need to go now!"