Hey, all. I actually wrote this almost a month ago, but I'm just now getting around to posting it because life is insane. I'm taking an actual, honest-to-Weasley college class this semester and the homework is frying my poor little high-school brain, so it didn't even occur to me to post this until after I had posted my last story. And hey, to those who actually read Again, maybe this is the new Mary... I dunno. I haven't really decided yet. I doubt it. Anywho, on with the show. I own nothing.

Ciara hummed to herself as she walked through the garden outside the hospital, absently picking a bright purple flower she found by the path. Mama was still sitting with Grandaddy, and Ciara really didn't know what to say, so she had gone for a walk instead. Her grandad had been in and out the hospital since she was a baby, but this was the longest he'd ever been, and it made her feel a little bit weird that he never said anything. He just sort of smiled at the ground or the trees or the sky, but never at the people.

So, Ciara left.

She didn't go far; she still knew how to get back to where Mama and Grandaddy were, but it was far enough that she couldn't see them anymore. Still humming and skipping a little bit now, she rounded a corner, and stopped. There was a man sitting on a pretty stone bench, but he didn't look comfortable. He was bent down low, his head in between his knees, with his fingers laced together behind his head. As she watched, his shoulders moved slowly up and down in deep, exaggerated breaths, like Mama always said to do when Ciara's asthma was bad.

"Just breathe through, it baby. There you go."

Ciara wondered if the man needed an inhaler. Hers was in her pocket, and she walked forward hesitantly. She wasn't really supposed to talk to strangers, but this man looked like he was sick and maybe he needed her help getting into the hospital. That would be a good thing, wouldn't it, if she helped him?

"'Scuse me?"

He lowered his hands and looked up at her, then very slowly sat up a little. He was still hunched over, his elbows braced on his knees, but it made it so he was looking Ciara right in the eyes. He was really white, except for little dark circles under his eyes like Mama's. "Yeah?" His voice sounded funny, like he was moaning a little bit.

"Are you okay? You look sick."

"What?" he said faintly. "Yeah, I mean no, no, I'm fine." His voice sounded all high-pitched and raspy and quiet, and Ciara fished her inhaler out of her jacket pocket.

"Are you having trouble breathing? You can borrow my inhaler. I haven't even used it today, so it's clean."

He smiled just a little bit, but he still looked a little like he might be sick. "I'm good, thanks."

She put it back in her pocket. "Are you sick? Do you need to go inside?"

"Oh gosh, no."

Ciara jumped a little bit, because he sounded really angry and maybe she shouldn't have talked to him after all. He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, then left them there, peeking at Ciara through his fingers. "Sorry. I just... don't like hospitals."

"But hospitals are where people get better," she informed him. "That's what they're for, is for fixin' people."

His smile looked funny, like he was trying to force it onto his face. "Yeah, sure."

She huffed. "They are."

"Yeah, I know, kid, I just..." He glanced up at the big building behind her and winced a little bit, the pretend smile disappearing.

"My name's not 'kid,'" she said with a long-suffering sigh. "It's Ciara."

His mouth did a little twitchy thing that was somehow closer to a smile than the last one. "I'm Sam."

"Who's in the hospital that you know, Mr. Sam?" she asked, and he actually laughed.

"Geez, just Sam is fine." Then he became quiet. "It, ah, it's my brother. He got..." He coughed once, then shook his head. "Sorry. He got hurt pretty bad, and he..."

He didn't seem to want to keep talking, so Ciara asked a question, instead. "How'd he get hurt?"

"We were hiking," Sam said quietly. "And we got attacked by a wolf."

She stared at him, eyes wide. "What happened?"

Sam shrugged like it was no big deal. "I shot it and we hauled ahhhhh..." He trailed off, glancing at her uncertainly. "We came here."

"Did the wolf get you?" she asked curiously, and in answer he shook back his coat sleeve to show that his arm was completely wrapped in bandages from wrist to elbow. "Woah," she said softly, reaching out to touch before she thought better of it. It probably hurt a lot already, and she didn't want to make it worse. "Did you have to get stitches?"

"Yeah."

"I had to get stitches once on my hand," she said, showing him the small scar on her palm. He 'hmm'ed and nodded. "I got seven; how many did you get?"

He smiled for real this time, but it was small and his eyes still looked tired and sad. "Thirty-six."

She was pretty sure her jaw hit the ground, and her cheeks hurt her mouth was open so wide. "Thirty-six? That's crazy!"

"Isn't it?" His smile widened, then disappeared. "Dean got a lot more."

"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked quietly, because that was probably really scary to have your brother in the hospital and to be worried about them. Sam nodded a few times.

"Yeah, he should be fine. He had to have some surgery done, but the doctor said he should be fine and he should wake up soon."

"Are you okay? If you had to have that many stitches, shouldn't you still be in the hospital?" she asked, frowning as she thought. Sam smiled weakly.

"Probably. I just really don't like hospitals."

"How come?"

He shrugged. "I have some bad memories in these places."

He didn't seem to want to talk about it, so Ciara let it drop. "I'm here visiting my grandaddy. He had a stroke."

"I'm sorry." He said it like he meant it. "Shouldn't you be visiting him with your mom and dad, then?"

"I don't have a dad," she said quietly. "He's gone now."

Sam's smile was sad and understanding. "Yeah, mine too."

"I'm sorry," she said, and she was, even though she didn't quite understand. Sam seemed really sad. "I think you should go see your brother. You'll probably feel better then, right?"

He laughed again, and it almost sounded real. "Yeah, probably."

He stood, and Ciara had to crane her neck back to look up at him, shading her eyes to block the sunlight that made Sam just a shadow person. As she did so, the half-wilted flower in her hand drooped into her face, and she held it out impulsively. "Here, have this. You can give it to Dean. Flowers always make me feel better, so it'll probably help him, too."

Sam smiled again and took the flower. "Thanks, Ciara. It was nice meeting you. You really helped me out there. I'll see you around, okay?"

"Okay. Bye!" She waved and grinned at him, happy to have helped, and bounced away.

She hoped his brother woke up soon, and she hoped that Sam got better. But for now, she was going to go visit her grandaddy.