Hospitals make Sam anxious, too many bad memories, he supposes. He walks past an empty hospital bed and thinks of his father. He hears the high pitched beep of a heart monitor and remembers sitting next to his brother. He passes an older man in a wheelchair and has to double check that it's not Bobby. The air smells faintly of death and bleach, and it reminds him of how many a job ends.
Dean points to an open room on the left and they knock on the door frame before entering. Inside, a mother sits with her child on a hospital bed by the window, the sunlight shining on the storybook held in their laps. The mother thanks them again; the little girl is going to be just fine. Dean sits in the empty chair by the bed and playfully tugs at the girl's pigtails.
His vision of an empty hospital bed is replaced with the sight of a healing child, and the sound of a heart monitor is drowned out by laughter. Sam puts the daisies they brought on the windowsill between the roses and the tulips, and the sterile hospital smell is overpowered by the scent of flowers.
Sam turns around to find his brother and the little girl smiling at him, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right.