hey people! i havent posted a fic in a while and i hope you like this one. i have been working on it for some time and figured its now or never to post it.

Disclaimer: i dont own anything to do with supernatural, it's plot, characters, or awesomeness...no matter how much i've begged.

As always enjoy and remember comments are welcome!

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"Mr. Murphy?"

He was sitting in the waiting room with his head in his hands.

"Excuse me, Mr. Murphy?" She gently touched his shoulder this time. It was only then that he realized that someone was standing next to him, waiting expectantly with a clipboard in hand. He had heard someone speaking but it seemed so far away at the time. Looking up finally at the person who was demanding his attention he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the bright light of the hospital waiting room.

"How is he, doc?," he asked. "Can I see him?"

"Your brother is in very critical condition. Unfortunately, we won't know the full extent of his injuries until he wakes up."

This wasn't the first time he'd heard this. It was actually starting to get old.

"You may see him if you'd like. Though I must warn you, he's not in very good shape."

"No, I want to see him," he assured the doctor.

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The doctor lead him down the hall and into the room where his brother lay, seeming to sleep peacefully. He nodded to the doctor, signaling it was okay to go and that he wanted to be alone with his unconscious brother. He closed the door and crossed the room. His older brother, who normally was strong and in control looked so small and helpless laying on the bed, with tubes and machines jutting out everywhere around him. A large bandage covered most of his head. In the middle was a spot where some blood had seeped through.

Suddenly, he could see the events he had been trying to push to the back of his mind. There had been so much blood. It still covered the front of his shirt and pants. Pulling the chair in the corner closer to the bed he perched himself on top of it. He closed his eyes again trying to suppress the memory once more and his fatigue started to set in again. When he had found his brother he had carried him all the way to the car and from the car into the hospital. He did his best to clear his mind and after a few minutes he let exhaustion take over and fell asleep.

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'Where am I?,' he thought. He was surrounded by blackness. It was like he had been swallowed. He struggled to open his eyes and was confused because he couldn't. After a few tries he was able to see through the slits. Then, gradually those slits got bigger and he looked around. It was dark but not as dark as before. There was some light coming from under the door across the room and from the machines that surrounded him.

'What happened?,' he thought. It hurt to think. And come to think of it, everything hurt. Especially his head. He hesitantly lifted his arm and touched his hand to his head. A bandage. 'Now where did that come from? On second thought, never mind, I'll figure that one out later.' Right now it was an effort just to keep his eyes open. He fought the sleep that was creeping to the edges of his eyelids until finally he surrendered his consciousness to the slumber that beckoned him.

When he opened his eyes again it was lighter in the room. He felt better. Suddenly, he heard a noise that startled him. Ever so slightly he lifted his head up off the pillow so as not to jar anything that aught not be jarred. Turning his head to the right towards the noises source, he was startled to see someone sitting there. Sleeping. The noise he'd heard had been a snore, he deduced. The man seated, no slumped rather, next to him was wearing entirely too many layers that were stained by something dark and was in desperate need of a haircut.

It made him jump when the man began to stir and then he suddenly opened his eyes. After rubbing them a few times with the backs of his hands he focused on the man lying in the bed.

"Thank God you're awake, dude," the seated man said, relieved. His look of relief vanished and was replaced by one of confusion when his brother looked at him as though he'd never seen him before in his life.

"Dude, Dean, are you okay?"

"Dean?," the man on the bed asked to thin air. He looked around the room. The name sounded vaguely familiar but he wasn't sure it was his name. His name was- 'Wait what is my name?," he thought. 'And how did I get here in the first place? And who in the heck is this guy?" He turned his gaze back over to the man next to him. His brow furrowed.

"Dean, what's wrong, bro? It's me, Sam."

'Sam…Sam,' he turned the name over and over in his head, mouthing it to himself. 'Nope, no Sams,' he thought.

Sam realized his own brother didn't recognize him. Something was definitely not right.

"You don't remember, do you? Last night? How you got here?…Me?"

"No, I don't…What did you say your name was again?," he asked.

"It's Sam. But you usually call me Sammy. I hate it but you do it anyway." he replied, running his fingers through his hair until he reached the back of his neck. His elbows rested on his knees and his hands were clenched together at the back of his head. He stared at the ground not able to believe what was happening.

"I call you Sammy, even though you hate it?" He said the words slowly trying to comprehend why anyone would do such a thing. Something sparked in the back of his mind but didn't quite ignite.

"Yeah, you think it's funny. It's what I used to go by when we were kids."

"We've known each other that long?"

Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled very slowly. He really wasn't prepared for any of this.

"Yeah,….we're brothers," he said, his eyes locked with Dean's.

"Oh," he paused looking down, then continued, "so, are you my older brother?"

"No," Sam smiled. "I'm your little brother. We're four years apart." He had the distinct feeling, knowing Dean even though he wasn't all there, that he was going to regret telling him the truth on that little tidbit of information.

Sam also knew that he should probably call a doctor or nurse in here but he deep down he didn't want to admit to the fact that something was wrong. That his brother wasn't here. 'How am I going to explain all of this? About what happened last night, and hunting, and the fact that Dad is MIA? He's going to think I'm crazy,' Sam thought. He was going to have to be careful. Dean might try to get away if he sees all the weapons or anything suspicious. Sam was going to have to find some proof to explain all of this. Or he could lie. 'We'll cross that bridge when we get there,' he thought. 'We need a diagnosis first.'

"Listen, I'll be right back. I'm going to find your doctor and tell him you're awake."

"K," Dean said with a smile.

'This is weird,' Sam said himself. 'Normally Dean would be climbing the walls ready to make a break for the door. And he definitely wouldn't be complacent to seeing the doctor.' Sam stood and headed for the door.

"Whoa!," Dean exclaimed from behind him.

"What? What's the matter?," Sam said facing him. He was clearly concerned and confused by the amazed look on Dean's face.

"Dang, you're tall!"

Sam looked down and then back up at Dean. "Uhhh, yeah, I guess I am," he replied. "Be right back." Sam turned on his heel and went out the door. 'Dang?…. It's going to be a long day,' he sighed to himself.

TBC...