A/N Hey guys! It's quite embarrassing actually, how long I've been working on this. Anyway, read it, and maybe tell me if this should have a second chapter from Dean's POV. :) ~Sammy


Everything was Black. Then it was all White. Colors swirled everywhere, mixing into shades I'd never seen before, and would never be able to name.

I was floating, but even as I could feel something holding me up, I was tumbling down, down, down, into more ridiculous colors, more blinding Light, more comforting Darkness.

Everything was... weird. And if I thought that something was strange, then it definitely was, 'cause I'd seen some pretty random things in my existence. I won't say my 'life', because, honestly, I've died so many times, I've lost count of which borrowed lifetime I'm on now.

Something was shouting from the back of my mind, but my mind was too busy trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Finally the screaming and shouting reached a level where it simply could not be ignored. It was annoying, and I had to resist the urge to forget about the thing again, and go back to watching the Darkness swirl through the Colors.

The thing (my heart?) was stubborn, however, so I payed it some small amount of my otherwise occupied attention. It pushed and shoved at my brain, trying to bring something to the forefront. It was important, that much I could tell, my heart yelling at me, but I was too tired, and it was screaming complete gibberish. Couldn't it speak normal English if it wanted my attention? The Colors were way more interesting than some random syllables strung together in ways that defied logic. I lost all interest in whatever was struggling to communicate with me, the Colors catching my eye again.

The Colors twisted and spiraled around, and it was so bright, I retreated into the Darkness. The Darkness was safe, comforting, and slipping into it was so simple.

A sudden rush of pain ran through me, and I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my lips even as I tried to sink further into the Dark. The pain continued, and suddenly there was Light everywhere, the Colors filling my vision, and it hurt. The noise that I had been ignoring for so long finally reached my brain. The noise, whatever it was, stopped sounding so much like babbling, and sounded more and more like a Voice that was just so familiar.

"Hey... HEY!... djsjdhdbd ...dhsoeyenwosb... Sam... bahsjru...Sammy... sshsbs... SAM!"

What was 'Sam'? The word sounded like something I should know. I turned the word over and over in my mind before I had a brief moment of clarity that distracted me from the blinding Lights. Seriously, those Colors hurt like a bitch. But then it finally clicked. I was Sam. Sam was my name. At least something made sense. The Voice kept talking and my weary mind soon managed to decipher whatever the heck it was trying to say. Well, most of it at least...

Time passed, or, I think it did, because the Colors swirled a little bit more.

"C'mon Sammy... stay with me man... I can't carry your sorry gigantor ass outtasbahhearbdks... come ON..."

Stay where? I wasn't going anywhere. Why would the voice need to carry me? I didn't want to move. Well, I did, but only to get away from that infuriating Light that just wouldn't go away. If the Voice could take the Light away then I could just stop hurting so much. The Darkness called to me, and I almost sprinted into its smoky arms. Almost.

The Voice got even louder, and a pounding began to run through my head. The Voice shouted, I was tossed around, the Colors disorienting me and making me feel strangely seasick 'cause I wasn't really even moving. Something was holding me in place, and the Voice kept up a constant litany of nonsense words.

"Hey, hey Sammy... c'mon man, don't do this... hey stay awake kiddo... c'mon, it's not nap time sasquatch... no going to sleep, you got me? Stay awake..."

Hmmm... sleep sounded like a really good idea. Sleep meant Darkness, and the Darkness meant no pain. Light hurt, and the goddamn Voice wasn't really helping. I was trying to return to my little peaceful blackness when I was tossed about again, and I finally realized that somebody was shaking me. The Voice suddenly sounded annoyed. Really annoyed. Like, 'somebody messed up my car' kinda annoyed. Somehow I just knew that the Voice would be pissed if anyone even looked at it's car wrong.

"What did I say Sam? No sleeping. Come on kiddo we have to get out of here, and you're not twelve anymore. I can't carry you."

Okay, so I wasn't twelve anymore. What the heck did that have to do with anything? Seriously, I thinl that this Voice was just born to annoy me with randomness. Well, at least it didn't sound all garbled and weird anymore, I actually understood everything it was saying. That was an improvement, right?

More swirly Colors, and more blinding light as hours (or was it seconds?) passed.

"Wakey wakey Sammy... don't do this man. I know you want to see the sonofabitch burning don't ya? I mean, you ganked the fugly, least you could do is see it turn to ash."

I groaned, wishing with all my heart that the Voice would just shut the hell up already, but somehow still hoping that it kept up the constant chatter. The Voice was comforting. It seemed so familiar, so important, so... reassuring. Everything I could possibly need from a voice. And that thought in itself was ridiculous, for as much as the Voice made me feel safe, it was an unknown, and unknowns were almost always dangerous.

Yeah, if the Colors didn't stop twisting soon, I was gonna throw up.

"Woah Sammy, how many punches did that witch throw at you man? Hey, if you don't wake up now, I'm gonna go spill coffee all over your laptop. C'mon sasquatch, you're not gonna let me ruin you laptop are you. Hey. Come on. Sam."

The tone was light and teasing, but I could hear undercurrents of sheer terror and worry. The jokes were a front, a mask to hide behind while the Voice fell apart at the seams. I suddenly needed to calm the Voice down, to make that anxiety disappear, to do something, anything, to hear that Voice laugh, really truly laugh.

Then came the truth that the path to hearing that laughter was paved with that Light. That painful, horrible, colorful, agonizing Light that would burn my eyes and tear my brain to shreds. Yet, I would brave it, so that the Voice would not sound as though it held back tears.

Was it just me or were the Colors speeding up?

"C'mon Sammy, don't you want to check out the hot nurses? I mean, damn, some of them are just sexy, man. A couple of 'em were checking you out a while back. You don't wanna deny them your company now do ya? Wake up. Open your eyes, Sam. Please."

The Darkness beckoned, the Light pushed me away. And temptation was resisted, and revulsion was ignored. The Darkness was Wrong, the Light was Good. The Light hurt.

It was a long journey, dragging myself out of the darkness. I was just so tired, so exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to just give up for a while and fall into the peaceful oblivion of rest, but something was telling me that this rest would last forever. Not a good thing.

As I pulled myself up the cliff face that was the route to the Light, the Voice became clearer and clearer. And the worry in my heart, and in that Voice, increased.

"... you remember that time when you were seven and we were in Ohio or someplace for a case? You saw this amusement park and you just had to go there, but Dad kept saying no. He left us one night in the motel, and you turned those puppydog eyes on me, sneaky little bitch that you were, and begged me to take you there. I couldn't say no to those eyes, so I took you, and we were having fun until you saw those clowns. You just freaked out completely, and by the time we got back to the motel you were having a full blown panic attack. Man, Dad tore me a new one for pulling a stunt like that when he found out. We never really found out why you were freaking, heck, I still have no clue why you hate 'em so much."

Oh yeah, I remember that time, I remember seeing painted faces leering down at me. Remember being unable to breathe right. Remember big strong arms wrapping around me, remember feeling totally safe and secure in those arms. The arms that belong to that Voice.

"Y'know, when I was little, dad kept trying to get me to say daddy, but I never did. My first word was Mommy. He never really got over that, so he tried to get you to say Daddy as your first word. That didn't really work out for him either. Really, he should have seen it coming, it was kind obvious what your first word was going to be. Of course you would say my name, I'm the awesomest big brother in the world. Or well, I was. Can't believe I let you get hurt on my watch. I should have... we shouldn't have split up, I was supposed to have your back, Sammy. I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve to be forgiven though. Heh, if you were awake you would've given me the biggest bitchface in existence right about now. Just, wake up. Please."

The light was getting brighter with every passing second, and it was unbearable.

There was a bustle of activity around that I could hear, a bunch of sounds and voices that weren't that Voice. That Voice was silent except for something that sounded suspiciously like sobs.

"Sammy... Sammy... I'm sorry Sam. I'm so so sorry. Goddamnit you're supposed to be safe when you're with me! I'm supposed to protect you, it's my job. I failed you Sammy, I'm sorry. The doc said that you're in a- in a- he said you're dying Sam, he said you aren't gonna wake up. Oh God what am I gonna do Sam? What am I supposed to do?"

The Voice shouldn't sound so sad, so miserable, so devastated. I scrambled towards the Light even faster, because I had a feeling that if I didn't, something terrible was going to happen.

"I need you to wake up Sam. You've gotta wake up. But you can't Sammy, and it's my fault. Damn it! I am a pathetic excuse for a brother."

Some part of me swelled in indignation when it heard that, and I just wanted to burst through the shrouds of Darkness and the veil of light and hold that Voice in my arms. To tell it over and over again that I wasn't going anywhere, I was never going anywhere.

"I... I can't do this alone Sammy. I can't save the world by myself. I can't gank every evil son-of-a-bitch that crosses my path if I don't have you at my back. I know we aren't as close as we used to be anymore, but damn it Sam, that doesn't mean I care any less okay? You're my baby brother, and I'm always gonna watch out for ya. I'm always gonna be wherever you are, so don't you dare think about checking out on me. 'Cause I swear Sam, I'll just come chasing after you and I'll drag your ass back here myself. I need you Sam."

Everything was slipping; the time, the tears, the Voice, the Dark, my grip on the Light.

"Dammit Sam. I already tried this once. I can't do this again. I'm not keeping this heart pumping if yours ain't pumping right along with it alright? I just can't do it. Hey, wonder if we'll still share our heaven. If we actually make it heaven, I mean. 'Cause seriously man, we've done some messed up shit, I don't know if they'll still let us up in there, we've ruffled more than a few feathers for the God-squad."

Realization slowly seeped in, like the icy cold that settled in my veins. Those were tears dripping onto my cheeks, those were sobs breaking through those desperate words, these were despairing lungs blowing soft breaths onto my face, that was a hand I so desperately craved, so desperately needed, wrapped around my fingers, showing no signs of ever letting go.

"Goodbye Sammy. Oh God, this really is goodbye. You aren't waking up again. You're never gonna wake up again. What am I supposed to do if I don't have you next to me in the Impala, bitching about my music and my food? God Sam, you know I only did half the shit I did to piss you off, right?"

"Sammy, don't worry okay? Don't be scared. I've still got your back, just like I always do. You won't be one okay? 'Cause when you're headin' towards that light, I'm gonna be right behind you okay? One quick meal of lead, and we'll go deal with whatever crap gets thrown our way okay? I'll be right behind you. Oh God Sam, I've gotta let you go. You can move on Sammy, I'm right here."

The Voice was my safety. The Light was my trigger. There was a loaded gun with one hell of a heavy-duty payload. My fingers itched to pull the trigger, to fire that bullet, to shoot away the Dark, the Black, with a shotgun shell full of Light. There was a crack, and a shot. And all the Darkness fell to the ground in pieces, shattered beyond repair.

As the last of the Black dripped away, a pair of eyes stared back at me. The irises were red and yellow and blue and green and brown and black and purple and pink and hazel and every color an eye has ever or never been. It was every color that's ever existed, and yet it was nothing at all. The eyes were blank slates, emotionless, and yet they brimmed over with sorrow, regret, compassion, regret, forgiveness. They were the eyes of Everything.

The Colors swirled about and settled into shapes and patterns, and soon I was staring at the back of my eyelids, the blackness still in my vision, but it was not Darkness. There was a beep that should be picking up, a beep that should pause and restart and pause and restart in that steady annoying way, a beep that should not be one continuous sound, a flat tone that just stopped every breathing creature from moving for one precious, terrible moment.

A continuous whine of the monitor a choked gasp, a broken sob, a flurry of activity, soft touches at my neck, my wrist, more sobbing, and then disinterested voices pretending to be sympathetic, trying to console that Voice, because it was crying. And of all the things that could have moved me to shove that last bit of Black away, it was the feeling of (not my) tears falling onto my face, warm and horrifying. I wasn't letting those tears fall anymore.

"All right, I'll call it. Time of death... Ten forty-"

"No! Wait!"

"Sir, I need you to move away, I have to call it. Time of dea-"

"He's not dead! He is not dead goddamnit!"

"Nurse Riley, please escort Mr. Wilson outside. I am very sorry sir, but he is gone. Time of-"

"Wait! Look, just, look. Look, he's breathing. He is breathing. I just saw his chest rise! Just look at him damnit! Just-"

"Sir, your brother is dead. We did all we could, but he is dead. You have to accept that. Now, time of death... -"

One loud beep interrupted that clinically toneless voice. One beep silenced every softly spoken word being uttered. One beep, and then another, and another, and another. Soon there was a steady beat of beeps permeating the heavy silence around me, which was probably a good thing because that silence was vicious.

"What the hell?"

Thank God for emotionless voices.

"Sammy?"

Or rather, thank God for that Voice.

"Get the hell out of my way... Sammy? Sam?"

I could do nothing but stare at the back of my eyelids and curse at my immobility. I pushed and shoved and tugged and tore away at the weight holding me down, and, finally, I managed to move. It was just one tiny twitch of a finger, one insignificant spasm of a few muscles, but it was enough. It was always enough.

"Sammy? Oh God, Sammy."

There was hope swelling in the Voice. Hope, and a happiness that was tinged with relief, and strangely enough, a little bit of anger.

"I- I- don't understand. His vitals were... His organs were failing, they failed. He was dead, I checked, I don't understand, what-"

"What happened, doctor, is that you are an incompetent idiot. Dammnit, you told me my brother was fucking dead! What kind of a mistake is that, you son of a bitch?! If I didn't need you to keep taking care of Sam, you would be a stain on that wall back there right about now, got it? So stop your stuttering, do your job properly for once, and take care of my brother, without killing him again."

The anger made sense then, it seemed a bit unjustified though, because, really, that cold, distant voice couldn't have known I was alive. I didn't know I was alive.

"Don't worry Mr. Wilson, I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to fix your brother."

Oh man, that stupid deadened voice just didn't know when to shut up, did it? The Voice didn't say a word, but its breathing picked up, and I could practically hear the tense electricity crackling in the air. Yeah, if something didn't give, that calm idiotic voice was going to have a bullet in its brain.

I screamed internally as I scratched away at the non-existent bondage all over my body, and almost burst into tears in relief when I finally cracked it. It hurt like a bitch, and it felt like my eyelids were weighed down with freaking anvils, but I at last managed to open my eyes into slits.

"Sam? Hey, Sammy? C'mon man, open those eyes, come on Sam."

I grudgingly pushed my ( very ) heavy eyelids further up, and all I saw was a plain white ceiling, tiny little chips in the plaster. I gazed at it contently for a moment before that damn detached voice jarred me awake from my reverie.

"Samuel? Can you look at me please?"

I sighed but shifted my head ever so slowly towards the direction of the voice. The oxygen mask over my nose and mouth hampered my movements, but finally I saw a light-blonde haired, blue eyed man in a white lab coat staring at me intently. As soon as my gaze settled on him though, he pulled out some small object, and with a click, I was temporarily blinded by a ridiculously bright light. The light left as suddenly as it came, and the man ( doctor?) moved a bit to the side and I watched as he stared at the readouts from the multiple machines I was apparently hooked up to. His eyes widened a bit, and he turned to face somebody I couldn't see, they were just out of my range of view.

"It's amazing. His vitals are reading perfect. He is reacting correctly to light. His heart had literally shut down, but now it's beating at an optimum rate, heck, his charts say he's perfectly healthy. I've never seen anything like it."

"Yeah, yeah, call the papers, it's a friggin miracle. What I wanna know is if Sam's gonna be alright."

"Like I said, his charts are showing perfectly healthy levels of oxygen intake, his pulse rate is perfect, everything looks fine. We'll have to take him for a few scans and tests to just confirm it, but I am sure that he will me a full recovery."

"What about brain damage? You said there was a swelling..."

"It depends, his brain activity levels are reading fine, but we'll have to wait and see if he has any problems."

"Yeah, okay. Can I just-"

"We'll take him for the tests in a bit, but you can sit with him till then. Try and get him talking."

The doctor looked over me once again with a critical eye, before turning around and leaving the room with his white coat swishing behind him. A black-haired nurse I hadn't noticed before scampered off behind him, and soon I was alone in the boring white room with only the beeping heart monitor to keep me company. Well, that, and the Voice.

"Sammy. I'm so sorry man, this is all my fault."

The rough hand wrapped around mine tightened its already vice-like grip; the Voice's breath hitching. I slowly tipped my head in the direction of the Voice, finally setting my eyes on the one thing that pulled me away from that oppressive Darkness.

Bloodshot green eyes stared back at me, rimmed with redness, and filled with moisture that had gone past threats and had actually. An angular face covered with more than a few days worth of stubble had lines of exhaustion drawn across it, dark bags hanging underneath those emerald eyes. A hand reached up to run through tousled cropped dark blonde hair. A pink tongue quickly slid across slightly chapped lips. A feeling of relief and safety burst through my defenses and I could feel my every tense muscle relax as the Voice held my gaze with its own steady one.

"Sam, hey Sammy? You okay?"

I couldn't bring myself to do anything but drink in the sight of the tired man in front of me that was the Voice.

"Sam? Do you- Sam, you do know who I am right?"

That stumped me. He was the Voice. That's who he was. He was my safety-net, my security, the arms I could always run to when I needed them. That's all he was, and yet, there was so much more.

He was old leather and whiskey. He was crappy motel-room Christmases and weird presents. He was cherry pie and beer. He was ancient rock tapes and bad singing. He was muscle cars and hustling pool. He was a big brother. He was home.

"Sam?"

"You're Dean."

The rest was all tears, laughter, teasing, apologies and everything else that comes with having Dean as the Voice.

I swear though, for one moment, when the nurse peeked in, she had a small knowing smile on her lips, and her eyes were the color of Everything.


A/N Yeah, you know what you've gotta do. Leave a review, or a bomb on my doorstep; whatever suits your fancy. :) ~Sammy