Hopeless but Hoping

Sorry it took so long but, guys, we've made it. The final chapter, but it doesn't have to be! In the words of Chuck, nothing ever really ends. If you have any ideas, let me know via comment or message. I want to hear y'alls ideas for an epilogue or bonus chapter. I was thinking something to do with Sam seeing Lucifer again in Season 11, and Lucifer maybe put some bad thoughts in his head, but he overcomes it. Idk, just throwing stuff out there. Thank y'all so much for all the positive feedback and thanks for this journey. You, the readers, are the reason I write. Bye, guys!

The machines beeped so constantly, it nearly drove him mad. Muffled footsteps passed by over and over again on the other side of the heavy door. The stale hospital smell filled his nose, he wanted to smell anything besides the total cleanliness and stench of bleach. The room was bland and white, nothing he could keep his eyes on very long before they wandered to another corner. Cas sat in the most uncomfortable chair he had ever sat in. He shifted his weight time and time again, trying to make sure his back end didn't fall asleep on the hard upholstery. He kept his hands folded in his lap as he watched over Sam lying in the bed. Tubes came out of his mouth, IVs littered his arms, and his skin was pale and translucent. He was so lifeless. His chest barely rose and fell, and his skin was ice cold to the touch. Even his eyes refused to move behind his lids. It broke Cas's heart to see Sam like this. On more than one occasion, he had to turn his gaze away.

Cas massaged his palms and took a hand to rub his lower back. He had a hard time moving Sam. When Dean hung up on him, he ran back to Sam and pulled him up into a seated position. From there, Cas barely had enough strength to throw him over one of his shoulders. His legs bowed and shook under all the weight as he shuffled to the library and up the stairs. By the time he got outside, he was almost out of breath and heaved as he carried Sam. He laid Sam down next to his old "pimp" car, unlocked the door, and lifted him into the backseat. Cas drove Sam to the hospital as fast as he could. Now his back ached and his arms and legs felt weak from the use.

His heart felt heavy in his chest like a weight pushing on his ribcage. He felt his blood pump quickly through his veins, and they pumped with so much force it almost hurt. Without knowing it, his leg shook up and down as his nerves got the best of him. His palms were clammy, and his hair clung to his forehead in the slight fever he carried. He felt alive for the first time in a while, but when he looked at Sam, his heart fell further into his chest. Sam wasn't alive, not really. He was alive because machines kept him breathing and tubes pumped medicine to keep his heart beating. Cas knew Sam hadn't felt alive like him, really alive in quite a while. Something was broken in him. He hadn't been alive in a long time. He was a walking dead man, only now his body was finally catching up.

Cas rubbed his palms some more until he heard a voice in the hall. It was deep and raspy. It sounded scared, rushed, panicked, and it asked something he couldn't understand. The muffled voice of a female nurse answered, but Cas couldn't hear, so he looked back at the window, watching the branches of the tree outside sway in the breeze. The door creaked open and a nurse stuck her head inside. Cas turned towards her. "Mr. Winchester?" she asked.

Cas lied to the hospital staff. He called himself "Cas Winchester" in order for them to let him stay with Sam. He claimed to be his brother, and it wasn't far from the truth. He just needed to fudge a name to make it look like they were blood related. "Yes," answered Cas in a raspy voice that hadn't talked in awhile.

"You and Sam have a visitor. He says I should ask you if he can come in. It's your brother, Dean."

Cas's eyes widened in wonder. He almost didn't know what to do, and he stumbled over his words. "He can come in. Thank you, ma'am."

The nurse smiled. "You're welcome." She stepped out of the room and Cas heard her say, "You can go on in, Mr. Winchester."

Dean walked into the room, his hair a mess and his clothes wrinkled. His eyes were wild, searching, scared. His movements were quick and sudden, but it looked like he was in the beginning of puberty, unable to control the new length of his limbs, legs and arms moving without input from his brain. When his eyes met Cas's, his face fell from scared to absolute sadness. "Cas." His voice was weak.

"Hello, Dean," said Cas quietly.

Dean's gaze fell onto Sam. A low sound came from his mouth. It wasn't a moan or a cry, somewhere in the middle. He shuffled to the bedside, unsure if he should grab his brother's hand. His eyes ran up and down Sam's lifeless body. "What happened, Cas?" His voice broke mid sentence. "What happened to my brother?" He looked at Cas with his eyes red with oncoming tears.

"He…" Cas could barely get his mouth and tongue to work. "He took... a whole bottle of… pills.

A tear fell from Dean's eye as he turned back to Sam. "Why would you do that you stupid son of a bitch? Huh? What the hell were you thinking?"

Cas let out a small cry as he broke down. He covered mouth and hid his eyes as he stood and ran to the door. Dean watched as he ran, but he needed to be with Sam. Cas flung open the door and dashed down the hall. A man in a white coat appeared in the doorway and looked confused, his brows pulled into a scowl. "Is he okay?"

Dean turned back to Sam. "I don't know."

The man, a doctor obviously, entered the room and closed the door with a click. He cleared his throat. "Mr. Winchester, correct?" Dean nodded without facing him. "I'm Dr. Peters."

"Is my brother going to be okay?" interrupted Dean.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, your brother took nearly a whole bottle of a high dosage sleeping pills. He's lucky to be in this room right now. Your other brother saved his life."

"Is he going to be okay?" asked Dean again with more force.

"Well, we just don't know bad of a shape he's in until he wakes up. He suffered a massive trauma to his organs. His liver almost failed, and his kidneys are in bad condition. But we won't know the damage to his brain until he wakes up."

Dean turned to Dr. Peters. "But he will wake up?"

"Yes, we believe so. He is showing good brain activity." He motioned to a little monitor beside the bed. A little line jumped up and down. Beside that monitor was one that Dean recognized. A little heart symbol was in the corner, but its line moved slowly and the spikes weren't very high. "He's still here, just in a very deep sleep. He should wake up soon, within the hour, I hope."

A silence fell between them. Dr. Peters watched Dean watch Sam. Dr. Peter's eyes fell to the floor in respect. "I think I should leave you two alone for now. If you need anything, just call." He turned and left, leaving Dean staring blankly at Sam. Dean walked to the chair Cas was in and sat. He looked up and down Sam's still body.

"Sammy, please just wake up. Please," cried Dean quietly. He wove his fingers together in front of him, almost in prayer. "Wake up."

Meanwhile…

Stumbling through the halls, Cas kept his head down, staring at the white tiled floor as he went. His eyes were red, and his throat ached from holding back screams. He kept his fists clenched and avoided any onlookers. He just kept walking, swiftly gliding between groups of doctors and nurses. A couple of nurses asked him if he was okay as he passed, but he didn't even slow down; their words were merely a ring in his ear. All he could see was red, all he could hear was a low ring in time with his heart. It felt like the halls were never ending, corner after corner, all the halls became to look the same. Finally when he thought he could walk no more, Cas spotted an elevator. He dashed over to it and pushed the down button forcefully. He waited with his head hung low to keep anyone from seeing his wet face. When the door opened, he stepped inside and pushed the button for the lobby. The door closed when no one else got on, and Cas fell back against the back wall, almost falling to the floor. He broke down. He cried more than he thought he ever could. Instead of holding back the screams, he sobbed loudly; he knew no one could hear.

He looked up to see he was two floors from the lobby and began to wipe the tears from his hot cheeks. He stood tall and straightened his tie and coat before the door opened. He kept his head down as he walked through the lobby and out the front door. Cas kept going out into the parking lot, going towards the small park and walking trail the hospital had on its grounds. The small playground was empty, and no one walked the trails. Birds chirped happily, blissfully unaware of the pain within the building they flew around. He thought in the back of his mind, This could be a good thing. No one was having to pace out here, waiting for bad news. Like me…

He came to a bench and sat heavily on it. He rested his elbows on his legs and took his hands in front of him. Why, why, why, why was I so stupid, so selfish, so blind, he prayed. "It was MY job!" he screamed to the sky. "And why can't I do it! I was supposed to look after him and I…" He bowed his head for a moment and then lifted it back up to the sky. "Why won't you help him. Not me, him. He didn't deserve that. He deserves to live. Don't do this to Dean. Don't do this to them. Please."

His phone vibrated in his trench coat's pocket. He wiped his eyes and took his phone out. A message from Dean. "Where are you, Cas? I need you now, please."

Cas cleared his throat and brushed again at his face. He raked his fingers through his hair as he stood to go back in. He stood still for a while and walked slowly back to the front door so that by the time he got back to the main desk, it didn't look like he had been crying.

He came up to the front desk, and the lady sitting behind it watched him with curious eyes.

"Can you tell me how to get back to Room 283?"

Sam's Room

With phone resting in his hands, Dean sat quietly, staring blankly out the window. He tossed the phone back in forth between his palms, waiting for any response from Cas. He wondered if he should text back or call. He needed someone to talk to, someone who wasn't in a self-induced coma. He clicked the lock button to check the time but mostly to see if there were any new messages. He was about to hit "call" when there was a quick knock on the door.

"Come in," called Dean, his voice quiet and husky.

Cas peaked his head in first, followed by the rest of him. He moved cautiously as he came up to Dean.

"Hey, Cas." Cas kept his eyes to the floor. "What's wrong? Cas?" Cas shook his head. "Come on, man. What's wrong. Please, just tell me."

Cas looked up with bloodshot eyes. "I- it's my fault Sam's… here."

Dean's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I had the pills, and- and he… took them from me."

"Why did you have the pills?"

A tear fell from Cas's face. He could barely get the words out. "The same reason Sam took them." Cas let the tears come again while Dean stared at him with shock.

"Cas." Dean stood up and turned his body to Cas. He took him in his arms, wrapping them tightly around Cas's shoulders. He put his chin against his neck and held him there for a while. Cas let go. He fell into Dean and pushed his face into the crook of Dean's neck. His breath was hot against Dean's skin. Cas clutched to Dean's jacket and Dean did the same to Cas's shirt.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry," he sobbed.

Dean pulled Cas closer, letting him weep into his neck. After a few minutes, Cas's sobs stopped and his grip loosened on Dean's jacket. Cas pulled away first and took a step back, his face red and wet again. Dean motioned for him to take the chair, and Cas obeyed. Dean leaned against the foot of the bed.

"Cas, what happened?"

"I don't know. I didn't know what to do anymore. I- I was so lost. I couldn't do it anymore." Another tear fell down his face.

"Hey, hey, listen to me. None of this is your fault. None of it. And what you tired to do, I don't want to ever hear you say you want to again, you hear me? Not you. I can't lose you too. You do not deserve to die, no matter what you think, what anyone else thinks." With eyes wide, Dean clenched his jaw, angry and scared for Cas.

Another tear fell from Cas's eyes. "Thank you."

"Dean."

Dean and Cas snapped their attention to the bed. Sam's eyes were barely opened but he was awake. Dean rushed to the side of the bed, and Cas stood.

"Sammy?"

"Hey, Dean." Sam's voice was quiet, barely audible. His mouth tugged at one corner, a small smile.

"Heya, Sammy. You okay?" asked Dean, his hand resting on Sam's.

Sam snorted quietly. "Define 'okay'."

Dean smiled brightly. He looked at Sam like he was a new puppy that he brought home. Cas wiped what tears remained on his face. The motion caught Sam's gaze and he turned it towards Cas. "Hey, Cas."

Cas smiled grimly. "Hello, Sam."

"Thank you, Cas. Really."

"What for?"

Sam paused for a moment to look at Dean. "This. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here."

Cas's smile fell. He shook his head. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have to be here."

Sam shook his head. "No, I would have found another way, Cas. Don't blame this on yourself. It's my fault, and only my fault."

"Sam," said Dean harshly. His smile was gone, and he wore a face of betrayal and shame. "Why?"

Sam asked, "Why what?"

"Why did you try to commit suicide, Sam?"

"Oh, that."

"Don't play games with me. Why?"

"It's hard to explain, Dean. I don't know why. A lot of reasons, I suppose."

"What kind of reasons? Please, man, don't beat around the damn bush. Sammy, please." Sam was quiet for a while. "Sam! Why?!"

"Alright! Alright… I'm tired, Dean. So damn tired. Look at all the shit that I've done because I thought I was doing the right thing. You were gone, I was here, so I didn't want to be here anymore. I… Didn't know where to turn." A tear rolled down his cheek. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Keep going! That's what you were supposed to do!"

"I'm TIRED of 'keep going'! Dammit, don't you get it? There are so many miles on me, and I wanted to just go… So many times, Dean. So many times I got so close to getting what I wanted. Now, I know I shouldn't get what I want."

"What do you mean, 'get what you want'?"

"Dying, Dean. I wanted to die on so many occasions. I was so close. But I kept going. All I've ever done for years now is 'keep going'."

"What? You mean you've done this before?" Dean's voice began to lose its harsh edge.

"Yeah. Not with pills, but yeah. I've tried." Sam took his hand, which felt like a wrecking ball hanging off the end of his weak arm, and lifted up his shirt, exposing his stomach. Pink scars covered all of his stomach in what could be called intricate designs. He took his arm and turned the inside of his arm up to show the scars of when he dug his nails into his flesh.

Shook covered Dean's face. He stared at the marks, unable to comprehend what his little brother had done to himself. He couldn't wrap his mind around all the scars that covered the skin that he once thought was clean of self harm and hate. "Sammy…"

A knot formed in Cas's throat. He choked on his tongue as a firm hand of guilt wrapped itself around his throat. His eyes burned with promise of fresh tears again. He tried not to make a sound, but a small squeak escaped his lips. Dean turned at the sound to see Cas holding back tears with a quivering bottom lip. "Did you know about this?" asked Dean. Cas nodded. "How long?"

Cas struggled to find the words. "Since the beginning, but I didn't know about that." He pointed at Sam's scarred stomach.

"He did this before? More than this? When?"

"I don't know. About five, six years ago," answered Cas.

"When Bobby told me to lose his number. Remember?" Sam added. "I went into a church and… cut myself. In the bathroom… and Cas came to me and pulled me back."

Dean looked back and forth between the two of them. He couldn't comprehend that both of them had managed to hide such a big secret for so long. "Both of you? How?" Both Sam and Cas looked down in shame. Sam didn't want this. Not the shame, not the heavy guilt weighing down his chest, not the burning stare of his concerned brother. "I mean, how could you not tell me? Both of you! Why didn't you tell me? Did you think I wouldn't understand, is that it?"

Clearing his hoarse throat, Sam said, "Maybe you wouldn't at the time, Dean."

"Alright, maybe I wouldn't then, but come on. I'm your brother. You have to trust me enough to tell me things like this. Did you think I would disown you or something? Think I thought I would be disappointed?" Sam nodded slightly, realizing that it was the truth. He didn't want Dean to be disappointed in him for giving up so easily and going out in a way he thought cowardly. "And Cas, don't you ever keep a secret like that again from me. I can't lose both of you. Not again. You gotta trust me, guys. We're family. And I understand. More than you could imagine."

Cas looked up at Dean's comment. "What do you mean?"

Dean laughed to himself. "I, uh. A while ago, I thought about ending it all myself." He chuckled quietly. "But I knew it wouldn't work. Not with this thing on my arm." He motioned to his forearm.

"Dean," called Sam. "I have something to tell you. About that."

"What?"

"What you don't know is that when we went and retrieved the Codex, you weren't unconscious because of the spell. I don't know what happened, but you cut your arms with a broken bottle. Rowena fixed you up and wiped your memory. I asked her to."

Dean looked to the floor for a while, watching the specks of sunlight dance on the linoleum tiles as the tree outside swayed in the breeze, taking it all in. It made sense, thought Dean. "Why? Why did you have her erase my memory?"

"I don't know. It made sense at the time. I just didn't know what to do. I couldn't have you thinking like that, not with all the crap happening then."

The memory of it became to trickle into his mind again. He faintly remembered seeing the washed-out face of Benny wearing a smile upon his face. It wasn't a happy-to-see-ya-again-Dean smile. It was a I'm-sorry-but-it-has-to-be-this-way smile. He remembered thinking it would be so much easier to give it all away just to be where he wanted to be: purgatory, where he could do no harm. An itch returned to him as he recalled that feeling of euphoria as he smashed the empty bottle and took its edges to his skin. "I understand," replied Dean. "And I'm sorry."

"For what?" asked Sam.

"For a lot of things. What I said, for what I did to you, both of you. I'm sorry I was so stupid for not seeing you two were hurting."

Sam smiled warmly. "It's okay, Dean. I'm sorry for all of this."

Cas cleared his throat before he added, "Me too."

Dean went over to Sam and held his arms wide open. Sam leaned forward and leaned into Dean's embrace, wrapping his arms around Dean's shoulders. With his arms tight around his brother, Dean smiled for the first time in a long time. "I love you, Sammy."

Sam laughed to himself at the affection. "I love you too, Dean. Thank you." They held onto each other like they were each other's tether to the earth. After a while, they parted and Dean stood.

Dean turned his attention to Cas and held his arms out. Cas smiled and pulled Dean towards him. "Thank you for saving my brother," said Dean in Cas's ear. He clapped his hands on Cas's back.

"Thank you both for being my brothers," answered Cas. He felt Dean's mouth smile against his neck. They pulled apart, Dean keeping one hand resting on Cas's shoulder. Sam teared up at the idea of being happy again. It felt like a massive weight that had pulled on his chest was finally gone. He smiled brightly, really smiled. Dean laughed at seeing Sam close to tears. He almost teared up himself. Cas reached over and placed his hand in Sam's. Cas marveled at his two brothers finally happy. He was happy to be with them, to be here.

They were all happy to be…

here.

Remember all the sadness and frustration and let it go.