Thank you so much Jenjoremy for all your work on this story, especially while working your butt off on my other stories. One day I will lighten the load and slow down, I promise.

Thank you Ncsupnatfan for all your support and feedback. You've really helped me make the story work out instead of kicking me ass as short stories tend to do to my wordy self.

Thank you all — old readers and new — for joining me on this short journey. You made it worth the work.

Chapter Five

Dean and Mary had been called out of Sam's room so they could speak with the doctor while the nurses tended to Sam. They were led to the family room where Castiel was waiting and gestured to chairs.

Dean was already worried enough without this unexpected meeting, and he wanted to get it over with so he could go back to Sam. He sat down beside Mary, with Castiel on her other side, and took her hand. He had a feeling they were both going to need the comfort.

"How is he?" Castiel asked.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "Not good."

"As you are aware, Sam has a fever," the doctor said. "We believe from his white blood count and other indications that the area around the resection has become infected. Though Sam is not stable enough to be taken for an MRI, we suspect an abscess has formed. Ordinarily we would treat that with surgical intervention, but Sam is unlikely to be able to tolerate a second surgery so soon."

"You mean he'll die?" Castiel asked bluntly.

"Yes."

Mary sagged against Dean and he released her hand to wrap an arm around her.

"What can you do then?" Dean asked.

"At the moment we're taking a more careful approach. We're treating the fever with cool packs and medication. He has a higher dose of antibiotics now, and we're monitoring him closely."

"What do you do if the fever doesn't come down or the infection gets worse?" Mary asked.

"We are doing everything we can to prevent that."

"But this abscess," Dean said. "If that ruptures it will go into his blood, won't it? And that will kill him, too."

The doctor nodded. "That is a risk. It's a balancing act. With his current condition, Sam will almost certainly not survive a second surgery. He needs to stabilize for us to consider attempting it."

"So he'll certainly die if you try, but he could die if you don't?" Castiel asked.

"Yes."

Dean closed his eyes and tried to absorb the shock. He couldn't handle this. It was too much.

"What can we do for him?" Castiel asked.

"You can be with him and support him. There is evidence that unconscious patients are sometimes aware of what's happening around them. If you're inclined, you could pray. That is a comfort to some."

Dean laughed harshly. "Tried that. Prayers aren't getting answered right now."

The doctor sighed and said, "The next twenty-four hours are vital for Sam. If we can reduce his fever and stabilize his blood pressure and other vitals, we will be in a position to reconsider surgery."

Castiel looked away and drew an unsteady breath. Mary buried her face against Dean's shoulder and began to sob. Dean wanted to join her, but he thought one of them had to be strong. If they all fell apart, it might spread to Sam, make him give up the fight.

"I need to be with him again," Mary said, lifting her head and wiping away her tears.

"You may need to wait for them to finish with him," the doctor said. "But afterwards you can go back. Make sure you wear the gown and gloves though."

They stood and walked out into the hall again. Mary and the doctor walked towards Sam's room, but Dean hung back with Castiel.

"You should go with her, Cas," Dean said.

"No! You need to," Castiel said.

"There's something else I need to do," Dean said.

"What?"

"Pray," Dean said simply, walking back into the family room.

Castiel hesitated in the doorway, but then he walked away, the temptation to see Sam apparently outweighing the fact he wanted to help Dean.

Dean closed the door behind him and sat down. He bowed his head and began to beg. "Chuck, I need you. Sam's in a bad way. I think he's really dying. I can't lose him. Not just because he's my brother but because we all need him. Michael is free in this world now, and I need Sam with me to stop him. You have to help us. This isn't just about my family. It's the world this time. Please." His voice broke and a hitched sob crept out. "I need him. You know we're stronger together. You can't leave me to do it alone…"

As a sob built in his throat, he trailed off and wiped at the tears that were now flowing freely down his face.

"Dean."

The voice wasn't Chuck's, it was female, but it made Dean's heart race as he recognized it as the reaper Billie had assigned to watch Sam and Dean. He could think of only one reason she would be there now.

He looked up at her and spoke through his tears. "No, Jessica. Please don't do this. Not to him. I'll do anything. You need a life, take mine," he begged.

She shook her head sadly. "It doesn't work like that. I have orders. There is a natural order."

"But it's not his time!"

"It must be or I wouldn't have been sent. I wanted to give you a chance to say goodbye, but I can't wait long. I don't want him to suffer."

"Please! Not him!"

She shook her head and turned for the door.

Dean leapt up and raced after her through the hall to Sam's room. He ran inside after her, drawing confused looks from Mary and Castiel, and Mary started to say something, not seeming to notice Jessica as she walked toward the bed. Then Dean realized why she'd stopped. Jessica had done something. The heart monitor above the bed was frozen at a peak, the ventilator had paused midway through delivering a breath. Mary and Castiel were motionless. Dean was the only one that was moving.

"Stop!" he shouted. "Leave him alone!"

Jessica smiled sadly and reached for Sam's hand. Dean grabbed at her, determined to keep her away, but before he could make contact, he was thrust back by an invisible force. He thought it had been her at first, and then he noticed the light streaming through the door. It was the blue-white color of grace and it settled over Sam's chest.

Jessica frowned and turned to Dean. "You have a powerful friend, Dean."

"What…?" Dean said weakly.

She shook her head and disappeared. At the same moment, the light disappeared and the room came back to life.

"…need the gown and gloves," Mary said, finishing her sentence as Castiel stood.

Dean barely heard what she said. He was moving closer to the bed where he saw something incredible. Sam's eyes were open and he was making choking, gargling sounds.

All eyes fell on him as he reached for the tube in his throat, and Dean quickly pushed aside Castiel and grabbed Sam's reaching hand. He pushed it down at his side and said, "Take it easy. You need it, Sammy."

Sam's eyes were wide and scared, but they made Dean laugh with the sheer relief he felt.

"I'll get help," Castiel said, and Dean heard the door open and close behind him.

Mary approached the bed and touched Sam's cheek. Sam's eyes found her, and his look of fear became even more pronounced.

"You're okay," she soothed.

The door swung open and the doctor rushed in followed by Olivia. He moved Dean aside and leaned over Sam. He made a shocked sound in his throat and pushed down Sam's hand as he reached for his breathing tube again, making a choking sound as he tried to breathe around it.

"It's okay, Sam," he said. "I can take it out if you stay calm."

Sam's hand dropped back to his side and he fixed his imploring eyes on the doctor who said, "Everyone out, please. You can come back in a minute. Olivia, prepare the oxygen."

Mary took Dean's hand and tugged him out of the room. They went to the window and stared in as the doctor removed the elastic holding the tube in place and said something they couldn't hear. Sam moved restlessly as the tube was removed and an oxygen mask was quickly put over his mouth. The doctor printed out something from one of the machines and examined it and then checked Sam's chest with a stethoscope. Olivia said something and he nodded, looking shocked. He examined Sam's abdomen and shook his head then turned and came to the door and stepped into the hall where Dean and Mary crowded him.

"I have no explanation," he said. "Sam's fever has broke. His blood pressure is perfect, his pulse is strong, and the swelling over his abdomen is gone. I have never seen anything like this before. It's nothing short of a miracle."

Dean didn't wait to question or reassure. He rushed back inside to Sam's bedside. Sam still looked scared and Dean grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. "It's okay," he assured him.

Sam pushed away the mask over his face and spoke in a strong but scared voice. "How? What did you do?"

"Nothing, Sammy," Dean said. "I swear. It wasn't me. It was grace. I saw it."

"You saw it?" Mary asked.

"Jessica the reaper was here," Dean said. "She was … You were going to… And then there was all this grace. I don't know where it came from."

Castiel's phone beeped and he took it from his pocket seemingly automatically and read the text. He huffed a laugh and said, "I do."

Dean spun to look at him. "What?"

Castiel held up the phone and Dean read the message aloud, "'Take care of them, Castiel.' Who's it…" He spotted the name above the message. "Chuck!"

"Chuck?" Sam said in a breathy voice. "Is he back?"

"I don't think so," Castiel said. "But he has done this for us."

"Would have helped if he'd stayed," Sam croaked in a rough voice.

Dean laughed hoarsely. "It would, but I think he came through on the right thing for once. He saved you."

"Yes," Mary said weakly, her head bowing over Sam's chest and her shoulders starting to shake.

Sam looked at Dean and raised an eyebrow. "That bad?"

Dean nodded soberly. "That bad, Sammy."

Sam patted Mary's back and said, "Then I guess it's good he came through."

Dean grinned. "It really is."

Michael still needed to be dealt with, but Dean would have swapped a dozen Michaels in the world to keep Sam. Chuck had answered the prayer that mattered. Sam was going to be okay, and they would deal with Michael together.

He closed his eyes and muttered, "Thank you, Chuck."

He might have been imagining it, but he thought he felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder in response. He wondered if Chuck was there now, watching their moment of joy and relief without talking to them.

He supposed it didn't matter if he was. He'd done what mattered. He'd saved Sam.

So… That was Consequences. What did you think? I promised Iuvsbruce a happy ending, and I think I delivered.

This was only ever supposed to be a short story in response to a prompt but, as so often happens to me, the idea took hold. I came up with a completely different direction for it that I want to explore in a full-length story. I am not sure when it will be written as I have other projects to work on, but it is outlined already. Keep an eye out for The Price You Pay as it will be landing in your inbox at some point.

I know I will see some of you again soon for one of my other posting stories, but for the rest of you, I hope you enjoyed my work and I hope to see you again.

Until the next story…

Clowns or Midgets xxx