A/N: I'm so sorry it took me forever to update. I wasn't feeling well and this one took me a bit longer to write. Here it is though, the last chapter. We have reached the end. I had so much fun writing this and I want to say thank-you so much to everyone for reading and reviewing and for their support of the story. You really motivated me to write. Again, to those I could not respond to individually, thank-you so much as well. I really hope you enjoy the last chapter :)
It was as if it happened in slow motion. He saw Sam stop seizing, daring to hope that the worst of it was over. Sam appeared to be trying to take a breath, but then his chest faltered. It was like a flickering candle trying to hold the flame before it's extinguished. Sam expelled a tiny puff of air, his chest going completely still and then everything nearly went dark for Dean.
He clutched the tree he was leaning on, waiting for the darkness that crept at the edges of his vision to clear.
"Sammy!" Dean yelled, once he could see straight again. He grabbed him by the shoulders, his body as limp as a ragdoll, his head falling back.
He placed Sam on the ground, feeling for a pulse but he found none. The terror threatened to take him under. He knew how difficult, if not impossible, it was to bring someone back with CPR once they lost their pulse. He undid the binding on Sam's shoulder, tipped his head back and began CPR. He gave Sam compressions, pausing only to give him a breath. He could only imagine how he was further damaging Sam's ribs but it wasn't important now. He felt something wet splash his face and he vaguely realized it was raining. He almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. It was raining when it could do nothing to help Sam now when before it could have provided him with the fresh water he so desperately needed. He continued to pump on Sam's chest, stopping to check for signs of life. Sam remained lifeless, his chest only rising when he breathed air into his lungs.
The wind had picked up considerably and he could hear the trees rustling above his head. He knew another storm was coming but he didn't care if it caused a tidal wave and washed away the beach. It didn't matter to him if the world ended. He remembered telling Bobby much the same thing when he suggested he continue fighting. What was the point of fighting for a world that didn't contain Sam? If he lost Sam, his world was gone anyway.
The rain fell harder and the splattering of the drops seemed to be echoing the words inside his head: Sam's gone.
No, no, no, no, no! He mentally chastised himself. He refused to bring himself to accept it. He was reminded of Bobby again when he had suggested they bury Sam. He was adamant about it. People buried bodies. Sam wasn't a body. He was his brother. He wondered why when people died, they were referred to as a body or the remains. It didn't seem right. They were still people. They still belonged to someone and Sam belonged to him.
He looked at Sam's slack features. The rain poured down on his face, causing his bangs to fall into his eyes. Dean brushed them out of his eyes, even though he knew Sam couldn't feel it. A rain drop slid down the corner of Sam's eye, giving the illusion that he was crying. He thought of Sam's inability to produce tears before and he pumped harder on his chest, feeling his own tears start to mix in with the rain.
"Sammy come on!"
He glanced at Sam's face again. He looked peaceful. He knew he wasn't going to be able to bring Sam back. His body had given out, was burdened by too many things and he knew he was to blame for most of what Sam had to go through both physically and mentally.
He angrily got to his feet, pacing the ground.
"What more do you want from me!" He screamed out loud. He half expected the Crossroads' Demon to really appear this time and mock his failure, make fun of him for losing his brother twice. He nervously ran his hand through his hair and then balled both his hands into fists, punching them down into his legs. A sob erupted from somewhere deep inside of him and got caught painfully in his throat. This was all wrong. It wasn't fair. He wasn't supposed to have to lose Sam twice. He deserved a reprieve of some kind. How could he deal with his worst fear again? He knew there would be no deal this time, but the demon wouldn't be getting his whole soul when she came for him. It was cracked in too many pieces right now.
"No!" He shouted, throwing himself down beside Sam again.
He resumed compressions and breathing for Sam, his body on autopilot. He checked again, but still nothing. He grabbed Sam's face in his hand, the side of it now slicked with rain soaked mud.
"Damn it Sam, I will not let you die!" He yelled into his face. He breathed for Sam again, but he still did not start breathing on his own. He found himself striking Sam sharply against his cheek and he didn't even know why he did it.
"I'm sorry Sammy," He cried, breaking down. He fisted Sam's shirt in his hand, burying his face in it. He let himself cry, his chest heaving. The absence of Sam's heartbeat against his ear made him sob harder. He didn't even understand why he was still alive. Sam was half his heart and a person couldn't survive with half a heart.
The wind picked up in intensity and something seemed different. It seemed louder somehow. He raised his tear streaked face skyward and spied something flying overhead. It took him a bit for it to compute that it was a helicopter. He got to his feet and ran, ignoring the weakness he felt in his body. He mentally apologized to Sam for leaving him there but this was their last chance. He only hoped this wasn't some dehydration induced hallucination of his own. He ran out of the tree line, close to where he had written the SOS message in the sand. The helicopter was bright orange and it was flying up ahead now away from them. Dean raised his hands in the air, hoping they'd spot him.
"Help!" He yelled. He doubted they could hear him above the noise but he had to try.
He saw the helicopter turn around and make its way back over. It flew right above his head.
"We can't land!" One of the occupants yelled over the roar of the blades. "We're coming down to get you!"
"My brother needs help!" Dean yelled, shaking his head furiously. He saw rope being dropped down and one of the guys being lowered on it. He carried a bag and Dean hoped that it contained medical supplies. An older looking man dropped down beside him.
"We're from the US Coast Guard. There isn't a lot of room to land and the storm—"
"My brother is dying," Dean said, cutting him off. He took off in a run, pleased when he saw the man had taken the hint and was following.
Dean kneeled down again beside Sam, while the man followed suit. He yanked out a pair of scissors and began snipping away at Sam's shirt. He pulled out a stethoscope and placed it against Sam's chest. Dean looked up to see another, younger looking Search and Rescue member had joined them as well. He was carrying a bag too, as well as a backboard.
"He's not breathing and he doesn't have a pulse either," The man said, sharing a look with his partner that wasn't lost on Dean.
"What the hell are you doing? Do something for him!" Dean shouted.
"Son--"
"I'm not your son!" Dean interrupted, angrily. "Now help my brother!"
"I need an ET tube," The man said to his partner, finally taking action. He took it from him and tilted Sam's head back, successfully getting the tube down Sam's throat. He took an ambu bag and began bagging Sam. His partner started compressions.
"Are you Dean?" The man asked.
"Yeah I am. That's Sam," Dean answered, pointing at his unresponsive sibling.
"I'm Todd and that's Russ."
"How did you know and how did you find us anyway?" Dean asked.
"Kevin Bradley said he rented a boat to a Dean and it never made it back to shore. The Coast Guard picked up a distress call earlier saying The Hunter was in trouble off the coast of Cape Alex. We did a sweep of the area but we couldn't find your boat. We were about to call it a day today because of the weather when we saw the SOS in the sand. That was good thinking."
Dean almost smiled, knowing Sam had saved the day, but he couldn't. It hurt to think Sam had managed to save him but he might have been too late to save himself.
"It was my brother's idea," Dean said, his voice cracking.
"Smart kid," Russ said, sympathetically.
"He's going to need cardiac conversion. Continue compressions until we get him on the chopper," Todd said to Russ.
The men placed Sam on the backboard, immobilizing his head. Dean watched attentively the whole time, realizing that several minutes had passed by since Sam had stopped breathing.
"Can you help carry him?" Todd asked him. "Russ is going to keep giving him CPR until we get to the chopper."
"Yeah I can do it," Dean said taking the other end of the backboard in his hands as they prepared to lift Sam.
"On three. Ready? One, two three."
Todd and Dean lifted Sam as they made their way through the trees. Russ pumped Sam's heart while Todd used one of his hands to bag Sam. They made their way slowly to the waterline. The helicopter was no longer hovering there but was flying some distance away and Dean felt a momentary surge of panic. They carefully placed Sam back down on the ground for a moment.
"Jim, make your way back now. We have a critically injured patient here in cardiac arrest that needs a hospital ASAP," Todd said speaking into a walkie talkie. Russ had taken over with one handed compressions while squeezing the ambu bag.
"Don't worry. The helicopter has to keep moving because of the storm," Russ said to him, apparently noticing the worried expression on his face.
The helicopter flew back over, hovering above them again. A rope was dropped out.
"Russ is going to take you up. Then we'll lower the basket for Sam," Todd said loudly.
"No I'm not leaving my brother," Dean said, shaking his head.
"Look, he'll be fine. Todd is going to take over CPR. We have to hurry!" Russ said.
Dean didn't want to be responsible for delaying Sam the treatment he needed any longer than necessary and he assented. Russ secured the rope around himself and then instructed Dean to hold on to him. They were then hoisted up to the helicopter. Dean looked down and could see choppy water below. The rope spun in the wind and it made Dean feel incredibly dizzy. Once he was aboard, he realized there were a few other members of the Coast Guard aboard the helicopter. There was a stretcher waiting for Sam, and Dean could see they had the defibrillator ready for him. Russ secured the basket to the rope and sent it down next. Then he followed it. Dean peeked out of the helicopter and watched as Todd and Russ placed Sam's backboard into the basket. They gave the thumbs up sign and then a pulley system began to pull Sam up.
"My brother is coming up alone!" Dean shouted, when he realized they were going to pull Sam up with no one there to make sure he couldn't fall.
"He'll be okay. Russ and Todd are really good at what they do," A female Search and Rescue member said to him, patting him comfortingly on his arm. The patch on her jumpsuit read Allison.
Dean anxiously peered down, waiting for the basket to get closer to the top. Once Sam had safely made it inside, Dean breathed a sigh of relief but it was short lived as he heard the whine of the machine.
Sam had been placed on the stretcher and Allison had hooked Sam up to the heart monitor. It was signaling that Sam didn't have a heartbeat.
"He's in VFib. Charge to 300," Allison said, taking the heart paddles from her partner. His patch read Miguel.
"Clear!" Allison shouted as she shocked Sam's heart. Sam arched off the backboard and his body flopped against the onslaught. It reminded Dean of a fish out of water right before it died and he could barely watch.
"Again!" Allison called, shocking Sam again. The heart monitor continued to scream.
"Charge to 350," Allison said to Miguel.
She shocked Sam's heart two more times but there was still no rhythm. Instead of showing signs of improvement, Sam was now flatlining.
"He's in asystole now!" Miguel exclaimed, noticing the change on the monitor.
"Anything?" Russ asked, making his way back inside the helicopter. Todd had just made it back up.
Allison shook her head, giving Dean a mournful look. Dean locked eyes with her, silently begging her not to give up on his brother.
"Get me some Atropine," Allison replied, a look of determination on her face.
She injected it into Sam's chest and watched the monitor for signs of a shockable rhythm.
Dean rocked back and forth from the seat he was sitting on against the wall, unconsciously pulling at his bottom lip. He silently begged Sam to fight.
"Still asystole," Miguel said, quietly.
"Please Sammy," He said out loud, suddenly not caring if anyone heard him or not.
"He's back in VFib!" Miguel shouted, sounding surprised.
"Charge to 400," Allison replied, not wasting a minute.
She shocked Sam again but still the monitor did not signal a rhythm.
"Again!" She yelled, hitting Sam again.
This time Dean heard the sound of the heart monitor change. It was beeping, but somewhat erratically.
"We have a rhythm, but he's tachy."
Dean looked nervously over at her, not sure whether his brother was still alive or not.
"Sam's heartbeat is irregular. It's fast," She said, seeing Dean was confused.
"But he's still alive right? His heart is beating?" Dean asked, not sure if he should believe he had his brother back yet.
"Yes," She answered as they quickly surrounded Sam and began to assess his other injuries.
Miguel undid the splint on Sam's leg and audibly groaned when he saw the damage.
"He's got an open fracture to the left Tib Fib," He stated. "Looks like infection has set in."
"Probably explains the fever then. His temp is 104.1," Allison replied, taking a thermometer out of Sam's ear.
"What happened to you out there?" Russ asked, trying to draw Dean's eyes away from the activity surrounding Sam.
"There was a storm and the boat went down," Dean answered, unable to take his eyes off Sam even for a second. He watched as Allison rubbed Sam's sternum with her fist trying to elicit a response. She also examined his ribs. Miguel was adding better wrapping to Sam's leg. He didn't want his brother to be in pain, but he was hoping to hear Sam respond in some way, show some signs of life to show him that he was still in there.
"Sam almost drowned," Dean continued. "We made it to shore but then he broke his leg. He had a high fever and I did what I…I could," Dean stuttered. But it was not enough, He thought self-deprecatingly. "He was so thirsty. He even drank the salt water. He was seeing things. Then he had a seizure and--"
"He drank the seawater?" Russ asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
Dean nodded his head in agreement.
"Don't give him any saline," Russ said, addressing Allison.
"Is something wrong?" Dean asked.
"Your brother might have a buildup of salt in his system and we're not equipped to deal with it. We just don't want to take any chances."
Dean dimly nodded his head and leaned heavily against the wall, suddenly feeling very tired. He shivered, feeling as if every bit of heat had been leeched from his body. He was still wet from the rain but this chill ran deeper. The adrenaline was wearing off and he was more aware of his own condition. His nerves were completely shot. Miguel noticed and handed him a blanket. He draped it over his shoulders. He couldn't believe he was aboard a helicopter. Under any normal circumstance, he'd be freaking out but now it didn't faze him. The only thing he could focus on was Sam and whether he was going to make it or not. He listened to the beeps of Sam's heart monitor. They were still too fast but at least they were present. The wail of the heart monitor before was now imprinted on his brain, and listening to the beeps helped to block it out. He felt his head start to dip and he let it, his eyelids at half mast. The sounds around him became muted and he finally succumbed to the overwhelming tiredness he felt.
oooooooo
He woke up feeling more alert than he had in awhile, with the sharp sting of antiseptic filling his nostrils. He knew he was in a hospital but he had no memory of getting there. He roughly threw the blankets aside, and he felt the pull of the IV in the crook of his elbow.
"Not so fast there Mr.Blotzer," The doctor said entering the room.
For a second, he had no idea why the doctor was calling him that but then he remembered he had used that name to rent the boat.
"You can just call me Dean," Dean said, trying to work the tape on his arm. He had to get up and find out what happened to Sam.
"You should leave that in," The doctor replied, putting up a hand to stop him. "I'm Dr. Sims." He put out a hand for Dean to shake.
"My brother? Where is he?" Dean asked, urgently, ignoring the hand.
"One thing at a time. Why don't we discuss your condition first and then we can discuss your brother."
"Look I'm fine—"
"You were suffering from dehydration when you came in. We have you on fluids," Dr. Sims interrupted, pointing up at the bag hanging from the IV pole. "You have been unconscious for nearly twelve hours."
"Twelve hours!" Dean exclaimed. He couldn't believe it. He recalled now falling asleep on the helicopter but he couldn't fathom that he had slept that long. It scared him to think what could have happened to Sam during all that time. He could be—, He thought, unable to even think the word.
"Just tell me if he's alive!" Dean shouted, not willing to listen to the doctor for a second longer.
"Yes he is."
Dean allowed himself to release the breath he had been holding.
"I'd like to examine you and then we can see about releasing you so you can see your brother."
Dean allowed himself to be examined, anything to get out of there that much faster. The doctor told him his dehydration had improved a great deal but he wanted him to finish the fluids in his IV. The doctor also preferred he stay in the hospital longer, but he refused on both counts. Dr. Sims agreed to release him if he would agree to the extra fluids and some food. Dean reluctantly agreed so he could be set free. He watched the bag drip, willing it to go faster. He also managed to eat most of the breakfast they gave him. Once the IV was finished and the nurse removed it, he dressed quickly in some scrubs, intent on getting information on Sam. He walked out of the room and found Dr. Sims in the hallway.
"Up and about I see," Dr. Sims said when he saw him.
"My brother?" Dean asked pointedly, cutting to the chase.
"Come with me," He said, motioning him forward.
They walked down the hallway. Dean saw signs pointing to ICU and he felt as if he was walking toward the executioner. He knew his brother was in bad shape. They stopped just outside the doors to the unit.
"Why don't we have a seat Dean before we go see Sam." Dr. Sims pointed to a small waiting room
"My brother?" Dean asked again, this time more quietly, once they were seated.
"Dean, your brother was brought in suffering from a much more severe case of dehydration than you. He has what is known as hypernatremia."
"What's that?" Dean asked.
"It's a build up in salt in the blood. This was caused by the dehydration and also the ingestion of the salt water. You told Search and Rescue that he drank some of the ocean water."
"Yeah he did, but I still don't understand why he was so thirsty. I mean, I was thirsty, but not thirsty enough to start chugging salt water."
"Well he did have a fever which most likely increased his thirst. Was he vomiting at all?"
"Yeah he did and he was seasick on the boat."
"That's most likely part of the reason too. He probably already was experiencing some dehydration even before you washed up on shore."
Dean lowered his eyes in shame. He knew that was another thing he had to feel guilty for.
"But he'll be okay right? You just get the salt out of him?" Dean questioned, somehow knowing it wasn't that simple.
"It's much more complicated than that. We have to be careful how quickly we bring the levels down especially since Sam has already shown neurological symptoms as well."
"Neurological symptoms? You mean his brain?" Dean asked, fearfully.
"Well we are worried about brain damage. He had that seizure. He also suffered hallucinations and…" Dr. Sims said, his voice dropping off.
"And what?" Dean asked, now extremely alarmed.
"Dean, your brother is in a coma."
Dean felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. How could salt cause a coma? Dean also noticed the tone of the doctor's voice had changed and it was much more compassionate. This filled him with a further sense of foreboding and let him know Sam's prognosis was even grimmer than he had thought. He suddenly knew what it felt like to be that boat sinking in that storm and he found himself unable to respond.
"We are attempting to replenish his lost fluids and electrolytes," Dr. Sims continued. "We have him on something called D5W which is Dextrose 5 percent in Water. It helps bring down the salt levels. We are hoping that once we get the levels back to normal that Sam will come out of it. We are concerned about his kidneys though too. Your brother is showing signs of kidney failure but we're hoping the fluids will reverse that as well. We are troubled though that Sam's kidneys aren't responding as fast as we'd hoped." Dr. Sims eyed Dean, noticing how quiet he had become, wondering if he should continue.
Dean had dropped his head down into his hands, feeling like this was all too much to take in. He looked up, suddenly realizing the doctor had stopped talking and was eyeing him sympathetically. He wanted him to continue but at the same time he dreaded it. His brother already had more than enough wrong with him.
"What about his leg? He had a broken leg," Dean said, indicating that Dr. Sims should go on.
"That's the other thing we are worried about. Sam has an open fracture of his left Tibia and Fibula which has become infected. He's developed osteomyelitis, a bone infection, and he's running a fever. We normally don't like to perform surgery when the patient has an elevated temperature but we didn't have a choice in the matter. We had to take Sam to the OR."
"My brother had surgery?" Dean asked, astonished.
"Yes earlier today, the orthopedic surgeon Dr. Foglio performed a surgical debridement of the wound and cleaned out debris and dead tissue."
"Is his leg okay now?"
"Dr. Foglio stabilized the fracture with rods but he didn't close the wound yet. He was still concerned about the level of infection so right now the wound is open and he inserted some antibiotic beads. Sam is also on some intravenous antibiotics. Dr. Foglio will have to go in again within the next 48 hours though to perform another debridement. If it looks okay, he will close the wound and cast his leg."
"You left a hole in my brother's leg?" Dean asked, incredulously.
"It's not uncommon when the wound is in that condition. The good news is that there is adequate blood flow to Sam's foot."
"Is there anything else?" Dean asked, bitterly. He couldn't see any sign of good news in sight, despite what the doctor told him.
"He also has some broken ribs which we believe caused a bruised right lung. It might have been injured during CPR. Thankfully the lung didn't collapse. That can affect breathing but right now your brother is on a ventilator so he's getting enough oxygen. The rest of your brother's injuries are relatively minor. We sutured a wound on his head and we think he might have a mild concussion. He also had some additional smaller abrasions which we cleaned as well."
Dean sat there shell shocked, speechless once again.
"Now I know this is a lot to digest—"
Dean grunted, not caring that he interrupted the doctor. That was definitely an understatement. He brother was in a coma, not even capable of breathing on his own. He could have brain damage or he could lose his leg.
"Dean, your brother is young," Dr. Sims continued. "From what I heard from Search and Rescue, his heart stopped for several minutes but they managed to get him back. He sounds like a fighter to me."
Dean knew this was true, but Sammy was even more of a fighter than anyone realized. His battle scars ran deep. He had spent his whole life fighting, fighting against a darkness that was always after him. Sam's demons weren't just the physical ones either. They were the emotional ones as well and a lot harder to do battle with. Sam dealt with a tremendous amount of guilt every day for those who had been lost because of the demon's plans for him. He hated to think that he had added to this guilt but he knew he had the moment he had sealed the deal with that kiss.
"Would you like to see your brother now?" Dr. Sims asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Dean nodded his head sadly.
oooooooo
Dean entered the room and his heart sank. The doctor had explained all of Sam's injuries, but it still didn't prepare him for seeing him in that condition. Sam looked small on the bed, which was hard to imagine considering his brother was the size of a small evergreen tree. The first thing Dean noticed was the ventilator, jutting out of Sam's mouth. The tape looked like it was painfully pulling at Sam's cracked lips. Sam was hooked up to the heart monitor. The beats seemed slower than before and Dean hoped that was a good sign. Several bags of solution were suspended on an IV pole above Sam's head. Sam's leg was propped up on a pillow. Dean could see it was heavily bandaged and in a temporary brace. The thought of the open wound under the bandages made him feel ill. As he got closer to the bed, he could see the bandage covering the stitches on Sam's head. The doctor had covered the smaller cuts on Sam's face with an antibiotic cream, causing his face to look shiny. He also noticed that Sam had a sunburn on his face. Apparently the canopy the trees provided was not enough to block the rays of the sun. Despite the sunburn though, Sam still looked impossibly pale to Dean.
"You're going to give me a run for my money with these near death experiences Sammy," Dean said, gripping the handrail and looking down at his brother. "Now I know you might have me beat with Rock, Paper, Scissors but I had you whipped with the coming back from the dead thing. The doctor was using so much medical jargon to describe your injuries. You would have loved it. Now you need to wake up so you can give him some competition in the Geekboy category."
"You're not going to believe what's making you sick either. Salt. Can you believe it?" Dean said, attempting another joke with his unconscious brother. "That's supposed to kill the bad guys, not you. You can't let a condiment take you out. That would be lame."
The smile felt foreign on his face, like he was wearing a mask. He sat down heavily in the chair. He snaked his hand through the railing and grasped Sam's hand in his own. It felt warm, too warm. Sam still had a fever. He was the one who had damned himself to hell yet he felt as if Sam was the one always facing the fire lately.
"Look Sammy, I screwed up," He said seriously, tears welling up in his eyes. He felt like he was saying that too much lately. He had said it to his brother's still body only six months ago. He had vowed then to never let anything bad happen to Sam again but here he was in the same position as he was before. He pushed down the anguish he felt, reminding himself that Sammy was battered but he was still alive this time.
"I just want you to know that I get it Sammy. We need to talk about some things and you know me. I'm not the most patient person in the world so I need you to hurry and wake up," He continued, managing a tearful laugh.
He watched Sam's face for any sign, a twitch of his eyelids or a scrunching of his eyebrows, to let him know that he was waking up. He couldn't bear to think of Sam never waking up and never hearing him tell him how sorry he was. He could deal with dying himself but he could never accept Sam dying thinking that he thought those things about him. He clasped Sam's hand tighter, and continued his vigil.
oooooooo
Over the next two days, Dean watched as nurses and doctors came in and out of Sam's room. Sam continued to run a fever and he used a damp washcloth to wipe the sweat off his brother's face. As hard as it was to see Sam battling a fever that high, it was good to see him sweating again. He knew Sam was regaining the lost fluids.
He met Dr. Foglio and he watched with trepidation as Sam was taken for a second surgical debridement on his leg. He was greatly relieved when he returned sporting a large white plaster cast on his leg that went up just over his knee. The doctor said that Sam's wound was looking much better and he expected that Sam would regain full use of his leg with some physical therapy. Sam's fever broke shortly after and then he began to trigger the vent. Dean was frightened at first at the odd sound, but Dr. Sims assured him it was actually a good sign. The tube was removed and replaced with a nasal cannula. The salt levels in Sam's blood were coming down and his kidneys were also no longer in danger of failing. Dr. Sims assured him that Sam would most likely be waking up soon and then they would know for sure if he had suffered any lasting effects from his dehydration and coma.
On the third day of Sam's coma, Dean finally got what he was hoping for. He awoke from a light doze in the chair beside Sam's bed to see a pair of confused hazel eyes staring at him.
"Wa…water," Sam stuttered, his throat raw.
Dean almost smiled. He couldn't believe Sam was asking for the very thing he said he wanted as soon as he got back to civilization. He jumped up, taking the pitcher and filling a glass.
He held it out to Sam who made a move to lift his hand to take it. He grimaced as pain ripped through his sore shoulder.
"Oh God Sammy I'm sorry," Dean said, placing the glass on the bedside table. He had completely forgotten about Sam's injured shoulder. Since he had removed the binding, the doctor probably hadn't noticed it was hurt. He quickly hit the call button near Sam's bed to get a doctor
Sam's nurse entered a couple moments later and she went off to retrieve Dr. Sims. Dr. Sims asked Dean to leave so he could examine Sam. Dean waited outside in the hallway, anxious to see if he would say that Sam hadn't suffered any ill effects and was on the mend.
"Dean," Dr. Sims started, closing Sam's door as he left the room.
"How is he?" Dean asked.
"His vital signs look good. His lungs are clear but I am going to keep him on the oxygen a couple more days while his ribs and lung heal. I checked his shoulder and I think it will heal as long as he rests it. I'll have Dr. Foglio take a look at it though too just to be sure."
"What about his brain?"
"I asked him some basic questions. He remembers you, the boat, and taking that fall. I am going to schedule him for an MRI just to be on the safe side, but I don't think he suffered any brain damage."
"He remembers all of it?"
"I'd say for the most part, yes."
Dean wasn't sure if he should be happy about that or not. He wished Sam could erase what he did to him from his mind.
"He's had a pretty rough time of it. I asked him about those hallucinations and they sounded pretty terrifying."
"You did?" Dean asked in alarm. "What did he say he saw?"
"Demons," The doctor said with a chuckle. "Poor kid, but I've known people who have seen worse. Those hallucinations can be pretty out there."
"Demons? Whew! Wow that is..out there," Dean said, pursing his lips and faking a laugh.
"I gave him some pain medicine," Dr. Sims said with a smile. "Most likely he is going to spend a lot of time sleeping over the next few days and it's what his body needs. We'll be fitting him with a sling for his arm once he's a bit more mobile."
"Thank-you Doctor," Dean replied, walking back into Sam's room.
ooooooooo
A few days later, Sam finally started spending more time awake then asleep. Dr. Sims suggested Sam get some nourishment in him, in the form of some solid food. Sam sat up in bed, holding a spoon in his left hand, half heartedly picking at the oatmeal that was in front of him. His right arm was in sling that went around his neck, but also fastened behind his back to assist in healing. Dean highly doubted that what Sam was eating could be called nourishment.
Maybe for a bunch of flies once the stuff's in the trash, he mused.
They made small talk mostly, still not broaching the subject of what they both had experienced. The presence of the issues could be felt in the room though, making it feel more crowded than it actually was.
"Have you had any rest at all?" Sam asked, tentatively.
"Some," Dean answered, simply.
"Have you even left the hospital at all?"
"No. I haven't even had a shower yet," Dean said, jokingly sniffing his armpit. "I still have sand in my shorts. You know if I get hemor…"
"Dean, too much information! Again!" Sam exclaimed. A crooked smile formed on his lips and Dean felt his stomach clench.
"I'm just saying I'm going to blame you is all," Dean replied with a smirk. He stood up and walked over to the window, becoming quiet once again.
"Dean, are you still upset with me?" Sam asked.
"Why would you think I'd be mad?" Dean asked, turning around. He couldn't believe the kid was still blaming himself for everything.
"It's just that you're so quiet," Sam answered, putting his head down as if he felt guilty about something. "I'm sorry about—"
"Don't Sam," Dean said, raising his hand signaling Sam to stop. "I'm the one who needs to apologize. I'm sorry for the way I acted. It's my fault you almost…you almost died," Dean said, looking down to examine the floor. The word still made him flinch. "I've been acting like a real asshole lately."
"I haven't been the easiest person to live with though either," Sam said, thoughtfully.
"Yeah well that's my fault too, for not hearing you out."
"Dean, I want to save you," Sam said, with such heartfelt sincerity that tears threatened in Dean's eyes.
"Sam, I know."
"But you don't act like it. You're always looking for something to hunt and you're so willing to throw your life away."
"I have been giving you time to research sometimes though haven't I?" Dean asked.
"No, Dean. You haven't," Sam answered, honestly.
"Sam," Dean began, sighing loudly. "I guess I just figured if I'm going to die, I might as well go out fighting, take out as many bad guys as I can. It's better than just waiting for the hellhounds to come for me."
"Dean, I'm not going to let you die," Sam replied, peering up at him with soulful eyes.
"Yeah well I'm not going to let you die either. You know if I try to get out of this thing that you could die."
"You think I don't know that? I do, Dean, but we have been over this. When you made that deal, you didn't just sell your soul. You linked our souls together. We'll just have to look out for each other."
"Yeah? Well I am going to watching you like a hawk," Dean said, only half seriously, breaking the tension in the room. "I already had the doctor install a complete little brother tune up on your ass."
Sam looked up at him, smiling, yet unsure what Dean was talking about.
"Yeah," Dean continued. "I had some Lojack put on you just in case you pull one of your disappearing acts. I also had one of those heart shockers installed in you in case you try to pull a disappearing act of the more permanent variety too."
"You wish," Sam replied, laughing.
"You scared me Sammy," Dean said, solemn once more.
"I'm sorry."
"Just don't let it happen again," Dean teased.
"Dr. Sims said I might need to use a wheelchair for awhile once I get out of here," Sam said, putting his spoon down and finally giving up on the oatmeal.
"Well maybe I can fix it up. Make it go from zero to sixty in under ten seconds," Dean offered, raising an eyebrow.
"I thought you wanted me to live Dean," Sam jested.
Dean laughed, finally feeling like things were getting back to normal between him and Sam.
"So did the doctor say when I could get out of this place?" Sam asked.
"No but he said you saw demons. Did you tell him that?" Dean asked, surprised.
"Well I figured it was the one time I could tell the truth without anyone thinking I was nuts," Sam answered, sheepishly.
"You saw some pretty crazy stuff out there. You even mentioned something about demon blood."
Sam felt his heart rate speed up, not sure what to say. He decided this was the best time to tell Dean, now that they were clearing the air. He couldn't tell him about Mary yet though. He still had to know more before he'd risk breaking his brother's heart.
"Dean, the demon blood wasn't a hallucination."
"What do you mean?"
"When I was in Cold Oak, one of the things the demon showed me was that he put demon blood in me."
Dean looked taken aback for a moment but quickly recovered.
"Well we'll just add that to the to do list along with getting me out of the deal. We'll figure it out Sammy," Dean said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Did the demon really say I came back wrong?" Sam asked in a rush.
"Sam," Dean began, annoyed. He was hoping they wouldn't go there. "Demons lie."
"Please Dean," Sam said, sorrowfully.
"Yes he said it, but I don't believe it for a second. I didn't mean it. It was heat of the moment," Dean said, crossing his arms in front of him.
"I have been feeling really upset lately and I just thought with the demon blood and what you said that…"
"That you came back wrong?" Dean finished for him.
Sam nodded his head, a stricken look on his face.
"You didn't come back wrong Sammy." Dean paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "You came back changed though. I knew how dad's deal affected me and I should have realized what it would put you through too. You're dealing with a lot and I feel responsible."
"It's okay. I'm not mad about what you did Dean. I'm just scared," Sam said, softly, fidgeting with his blanket.
"I don't want you to be scared about anything Sammy. Most of all, I don't want you to be afraid that you came back wrong. You're still my annoying geekboy kid brother," Dean joked.
"Thanks Dean," Sam responded, quietly, comforted by his brother's faith in him.
"Although," Dean started, mischief shining in his eyes. "That punch of yours was weak. I think that you came back punching like a girl."
Sam chuckled loudly.
"Sure laugh now. I'm getting back at you later as soon as you're no longer an invalid," Dean said, giving him a wink.
"Dude, I was just cashing in on that raincheck."
"Raincheck? You cashed in on that several times when you were stuck as a girl for a week."
"Possession does not count."
"It totally does."
They bickered back and forth like that for awhile. Sam felt better than he had in a long time. They had plenty they still had to face with the war going on and there were many hard times ahead. The storm Bobby had discussed before was now raging outside. However, he felt at peace. He knew they would make it because they would weather the storm together.
The End
Please let me know what you thought of the ending :)