Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I neither own Sam, nor do I own Dean. :(

A/N: This story is set in season 7 after "Death's Door", a story with hurt!Sam and protective!Dean, because I love the brother when they are there for each other.

And…every time I watch SPN I think: Man, Sammy gets hit on the head and strangled a LOT; shouldn't he be like brain dead by now? This is the reason I inflicted some head injury on him...

Now beta'd! Thanks to the wonderful cartersdaughter for her amazing work!

I'm sorry for all medical errors. I am not a medic, although I want to become one after school. All my medical knowledge is coming from the internet and other TV shows...

I hope you like this story…have fun!

Even Thick Skulls Can Crack

How often did somebody strangle Sam? How often was Sam hit on the head? Dean had lost count a long time ago. Sam was like a freaking ring-a-bell game, a pretty occupied ring-a-bell game. Dean could barely remember a hunt during which Sam was neither strangled, nor hit on the head. It was a freakin' miracle Sam had still working brain cells. And it was also just a matter of time, until Sam's head would decide this abuse was too much, and one last blow to the head would be one blow too many.

And this was the reason why Dean landed completely distraught in a hospital waiting area, waiting on a nurse to lead him to his brother's room. Dean was worried. How often did he still have to feel this stabbing pain in his heart when Sam was in danger? God, how often would he still fail at protecting his brother? Maybe, it was the wrong choice of job because apparently he seemed to fail every time at protecting his baby brother. Cold Oak. Lucifer. The wall. And now, the doctors had thrown all these crazy and bad-sounding words around and left Dean alone to cope with them. They were horrible words the doctors said to him.

"Sam's intracranial pressure was too high due to a brain bleed caused by a fractured skull. We went into neurosurgery and stopped it, but there is a chance of lasting brain damage. Since Sam had no gag-reflex, we had to intubate him. Sam remains in critical condition. And the severe head-trauma caused a coma. There is a possibility he may never wake up."

The doctors' words haunted Dean already. And hell, wasn't it fucked up that Sam needed doctors, as in more than one? But what did those quacks know about his brother? Sam was strong, stronger than Dean ever gave him credit for. Sam defeated the devil, so he should be able to defeat a brain injury.

So, on the one hand, Dean believed in Sam, believed that his brother would wake up and be okay, but on the other hand, he was down-to-the-bone freaked out and feared for his brother's life. How much could Sammy take until it was too much for him?

They had already enough problems. Sam was still seeing Lucifer every now and then, even if he was coping. Then, there was this bloody Leviathan and all the problems with Cas. And of course there was Bobby, who barely survived being shot in the head.

And Dean had to think back to the events that brought him here, that brought this whole new mess on Sam and him. It was supposed to be a normal hunt like they used to do before the apocalyptic mess, Castiel going all "I am God", and the Leviathans threatening their lives. It was supposed to be an easy salt'n'burn, which would distract them from their big problems and remind them of old times. Yeah, who was Dean kidding? Since, when were there easy salt'n'burns? Sam and he learned a long time ago there is no such thing as an easy salt'n'burn. It could always take a turn for the worse. Winchester Luck.

It was their first hunt back since Bobby was shot in the head and had barely survived. Both, Sam and Dean, did not really want to leave Bobby, but knew that Jodi would take good care of him, while he recovered, and both of them knew that they had to get back into the hunt to stop the Leviathans. They wanted to start with an easy hunt to get back into the game, so Sam researched and found a salt'n'burn in Arizona, which actually was perfect because both, Sam and Dean wanted to go on a trip to the grand canyon like they had been on when they were little for some time now. So the brothers decided to do the work and then have a little bit fun on a one day trip to the Grand Canyon.

The hunt was a ghost. A woman, who was killed by her violent husband, haunted the house she had lived in and killed the male members of the family, which now lived in the old house, in the same way she was killed: Pinned to the wall with six butcher knifes. And on the wall, the husbands were killed on, was written in blood 'Tit for tat.'"

The research had not been too hard. This time they did not even have to fake to be somebody they weren't because the internet passed on all information they needed, and the grave was easy to find. Luckily, there was nobody on the cemetery, what made it really easy to dig the grave up. So actually, it was the easiest hunt they ever been on, until that point. They dug the grave up and salted and burned the corpse.

So far, so good. Not really. Because the house was still haunted, there were still crazy things going on. Although the house was abandoned after the last murder, the police still found dead bodies there. And to the bloody writing on the wall was added something: "You took mummy away from me. Now you have to pay."

The Winchester brothers decided to take a look at the house and check it out with their EMFs. And there was still a ghost. All the information glued together resulted in a pretty decent story about what might go on there.

"I think the other ghost here is the daughter; she died two years after her mother's death because of meningitis. I mean, come on. Her dad killed her mom; she probably had a problem with male family members afterwards. She spend her time helping mom to kill husbands, and now that her mom is salted and burned she is completely alone and wants to take revenge because mum was taken away from her again, so she goes outside and picks up people, who she leads here to kill them the way mom has taught her," explained Sam.

The story made sense, so now they just had to salt and burn the ghost of the young girl. But when they were at the cemetery trying to dig the grave out, they were surprised by the drop in temperature and this resulting in the appearance of the ghost of the little girl.

"You should not be at the cemetery. They always said I should not spend all my time here with mommy, so you should not be allowed to be here, either. Daddy took her away from me; I had no family anymore. Dad was really, really bad and had to go to prison, so I was alone with grandma, and I ran away from home, and I became really, really sick. Then mommy came back, and we decided to give payback to all the bad husbands and fathers, but now she is gone again because of you two, and you want to take me away too, and you will pay for it. And I know how to make somebody pay, momtaught me," explained the little gir, who was about seven years old. The little ghost girl threw Sam around the cemetery, and Sam was tossed into a tombstone. And Dean could swear he heard Sam's head crack open. Dean reacted as fast as he could. He hit the little girl with his iron shovel, which took the little ghost bitch out of commission long enough for Dean to torch her corpse.

After the corpse was salted and burned and there was no danger coming from her anymore, Dean hurried to his brother's side. "Sam. Sammy. Come on Sammy. Wake up, already." He tried to wake his brother up; he needed his brother's eye open, urgently, but Sam was unconscious, and his pupils were dilated when Dean checked, which freaked Dean out. And then there came blood flowing from Sam's nose and ears, and Dean knew that this was a bad, bad sign, so he called an ambulance and did something he had not done in a long, long time: He prayed. He prayed that somebody would save Sam and make him okay.

So this was the story of how Sam had cracked his head open and how Dean had landed distraught in a hospital waiting for a nurse to take him to Sam's room. Finally, after a time that seemed like forever, the nurse came to take him to Sam.

"Dean Simmons?" The nurse paused and walked up to Dean, who directed his whole attention to the woman. "Are you ready for me to take you to Sam's ICU room?" asked the petite and beautiful nurse.

Dean nodded stoically. He couldn't wait to see Sam.

So he followed the nurse, who had started to introduce herself."My name is Trisha. I will be Sam's primary nurse as long as Sam is in the ICU. You should be prepared. When you enter Sam's room, he will be connected to a lot of monitors and tubes. There will be a breathing tube sticking out of his mouth, but these machines are all there to help Sam. You can talk to him, if you want to. It is proved that coma patients are aware of their surroundings in some way and talking may help Sam to wake up. Okay. Now here we are. This is his room. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I'll leave you two alone now."

And Dean was alone with Sam. "God, Sammy", he whispered with a broken voice at the sight of his brother. Trisha had not been lying when she said that Sam was connected to a lot of monitors and tubes. Sam was probably connected to every damn machine they had in this hospital. Both Dean and Sam had had their fair share of stays in the hospital, but Sam had never been in such a critical condition. Dean listened to the beep of the heart monitor, which reassured him that his little brother– even if he did not look like it – was still alive, and Dean listened to the whoosh-click of the ventilator, which reminded him that Sam wasn't breathing on his own for now.

Sam's face was pale as death, and he was completely still. A bandage covered the incision from the craniotomy, and you could see the patch of hair missing, which had been shaved off for surgery. God, Sammy would love that. Seeing Sam so still awakened bad memories in Dean. Sam looked so much like he had looked after he died in Cold Oak or like he had looked in the panic room after Cas had taken his wall down. And these two memories definitely made it in Dean's top ten worst memories ever. He had lost Sam before. He could not do it again. They could not be without each other. Sam was Dean's purpose in life, and he could not loose him again, he did not want to. Sam's situation also reminded Dean of Bobby's latest brush with death. He and Sam feared so badly for their father's - because Bobby was their father maybe not by blood, but in every other way – life, and luckily, he made it. And it was really luck, because Bobby's death would have taken Dean and Sam down, too. They lost so much; they could not afford to loose something else, somebody else. Bobby's death would have been unbearable for Dean, but Sam's death would be even worse because Sam was so much more than just Dean's pain-in-the-ass little brother.

Bobby knew about Sam's condition because Dean had called him with a shaky and tear-stricken voice, but he could not be with his boys. He hated it, but he could not come to them; he could not be there for them because his own recovering body held him back. The doctors called it a miracle that Bobby survived and was going to be ok with some therapy, but Dean knew it was Bobby's own decision to survive the gunshot wound. Bobby wanted to be there for his boys, and that was the reason why he had stayed in the land of the living. Bobby wanted so badly to be there for Dean (and watch out for Dean, because he did stupid stuff when he was in fear of losing somebody, especially when he feared losing Sam), and Bobby wanted to be there for Sam, to just see how he was doing and to help him come back. He wanted to assure himself Sam was still alive, how he was doing, but Bobby couldn't. So Bobby instructed Dean to give him regular updates on Sam's condition and to call him if anything happened.

Dean decided to do what the nurse had recommended him to do. He talked to his unconscious, comatose brother. He felt stupid doing it, talking to somebody who did not answer, but if it helped Sam, it didn't matter how stupid it was.

He was begging for Sam to wake up with tears in his eyes and all, completely distraught and torn apart by his feelings.

"Oh God, Sam, you have to wake up, dude. You really have to stop pulling stunts like this. What am I supposed to do without you, hmm? By now, you should figure out that the minute you leave, I am breaking apart, and this is really bad. I lost so many people I love; I let so many people I love down. I don't want to loose you again; I don't want to let you go again. You need to open those lazy eyes of yours, because we have still work to do, we have to get rid of this bloody Leviathans, who hurt Bobby and I can't and don't want to do it alone. I need your help. I am just honest now Sam: When you decide to go, I will go with you, so better wake up and be okay. You still owe me a trip to the Grand Canyon"

And he was talking about random facts and memories and was thinking back to so many good experiences they had had together, but also to so many bad experiences.

"Hey Sammy, remember our personal 4th of July fireworks? We nearly burnt down the whole field, and Dad was so pissed at us because he did not allow us to do so. And it was completely worth it because you were so happy. It was actually my first memory in heaven when we went there after Walt and Reggie killed us.

How screwed up is this? We were dead more than once, but a Winchester is not so easy to kill. You should prove it again, please, wake up!

Or remember the time we carved our initials into the back door of the Impala. Dad was so pissed, and we did not even understand why. They are still there."

Dean was even talking about talking.

"God, Sammy. Okay. First, we need a new phrase for all phrases containing the word 'God' or similar words. You really making me a chatter-bird here, you know. And I know my voice sounds awesome, manly, and all that, but don't you think it is enough. How about you wake up and respond to me, or you just start to breathe on your own? Because I have to say the whoosh-click of your ventilator is really annoying me when I try to sleep; while your own breathing, after spending every night with you in different motel rooms, is like a lullaby to me. See, what you have done to me? You are making me go all chick-flick, but this is your thing, not mine. You really should wake up, you know, so you can be touchy and feely again, while I try to hit on Nurse Trisha. I tell you she is a babe, taking really good care of you. Hopefully, she will take really good care of me, too... Oh come on, talking about what I want to do with women is no fun, if I don't get a disgusted reply from you…Please, wake up."

Dean had his own routine after some days in Sam's room. He talked to Sam until his voice was hoarse; he watched the hospital stuff work and slept in the chair next to Sam's bed. He called Bobby every now and then to update him and ate what Nurse Trisha brought him. The woman was really overwhelmed by the deep and strong bound, Dean had to Sam and vice versa. She just hoped Sam would be okay.

Dean barely left the hospital room except for bathroom visits and for changing into fresh and clean clothes.

On day five of Sam's hospital stay, Dean's voice was so worn out that the loudest voice he could make was a whisper, but he still talked to Sam. And finally there was some good news. For the first time in five days, Dean felt happy and relieved because Sam was finally able to come off the ventilator, and it was damn good to see Sam with just a small oxygen cannula hooked under his nose, instead with an ugly breathing tube down his throat.

"See dude, told you; you can do it. I am really proud of you. Really crazy what can make somebody proud, hmm? But it is really good that you're breathing on your own; the ventilator was really annoying."

Two days later, Sam finally woke up. And of course, Sam chose exactly the moment to wake up when Dean was not in the room. Dean just left to room for some seconds, and Sam decided to wake up. When Dean returned to the hospital room, green, confused eyes were looking at him, and he needed a moment to realize that said eyes were open, which meant the person with those green eyes was awake. Dean hurried to Sam's bedside.

"Hey Sammy. You're awake. How are you feeling?" Dean asked as gently and softly as he could with his strained voice. His voice was carried by relief and happiness.

"Head hurts..." answered Sam. Sam was weak. His voice was hoarse from the ventilator and from not using it; while, Dean's voice was hoarse from too much talking. Dean held a glass of water to Sam's lips knowing his brother's needs exactly, which Sam gladly accepted. Sam hadn't even noticed how thirsty he was until the cold liquid ran down his throat.

"That's what happens when you crack your head open," responded Dean to Sam's previous statement. Even if his voice was bantering Sam a little bit, it was full of relief and devotion directed at Sam.

In this very moment, Sam became aware of his surroundings. There were leads on his chest, which were hooked to a heart monitor, there was an oxygen cannula hooked under his nose, a pulse oximeter on his index finger, different IV's and tubes, and there was the smell of antiseptic.

"Hospital?" Sam asked. They only went to hospitals when it was bad, and he seemed to be bad.

"Yeah, you had to have freakin' neurosurgery, so your brain would not drown in your own blood. You were out of commission for seven days, dude. Man, I should tell the nurse you woke up, and you should probably go back sleeping," Dean explained. He tried to play his own feelings down, tried to hide the fear and inner turmoil that had been going on inside of him for the last seven days, but even an outsider could see what was going on inside of Dean, and Sam knew Dean better than anybody.

The whole brain surgery thing was a lot to take in for Sam, and he was actually too tired and exhausted (Hey, he had slept seven days and was still exhausted) to care. And he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but before then, he had to take care of Dean, because Dean had deep, dark circles under his eyes and looked as he if would fall over any minute after spending nearly every minute of every day in Sam's hospital room for the last seven days.

"Man. I've slept for the past seven days. You should take care of yourself. You look like crap," Sam told Dean. His words were slurred and faint but still easy to make out.

"That is physically not possible, Sammy," Dean stated.

"Sure it is. And it is Sam…" Sam's last words were just a soft whisper while Sam fell back asleep, but Dean loved to hear them. Dean had missed it so much for the past seven days, bantering with Sam, discussing crazy things. If it would not be so chick-flick, he would have probably cried out of joy.

The next days, Sam was in and out of it. He slept a lot. Well, brain surgery and coma would do that to you. But even if Sam was just awake for some minutes at a time, he was still able to mourn the loss of a patch of his hair.

"Dean" Sam whined. "I look ridiculous. This will take forever to grow back. My precious hair. This is awful."

"Don't be overdramatic. It will grow back. Stop crying, princess. It is just hair."

Dean joked about Sam being all bitchy about his hair, but he was really glad Sam was bitching, because that meant that Sam was on the road to recovery.

Still, Dean never understood what Sam had with his long hair. Was it like the story of Samson in the bible? Did Sam's hair give him strength or something? Dean didn't know. But then again, Sam's hair did protect his skull, and Sam's skull did need all the protection it could get. A lesson Dean had learned just recently.

The doctors examined Sam thoroughly and were surprised Sam was doing so well, and there did not seem to be any lasting damage. Sam noticed the doctors' surprise and amazement about him being okay and he asked Dean, what was going on.

"They were afraid you would have lasting brain damage. I told them, obviously you can't damage something that is not there."

Dean could never have a serious talk about this. When he just thought about the fact Sam nearly became a drooling mess on the floor, again, he would puke. And Sam understood why Dean was so sensitive about this topic, so Sam just played along, avoided this hurtful topic, and responded to Dean with a comeback. He wasn't brain damaged, so why should they discuss it, anyway?

"Nice, Dean. I am injured and you are kidding at my expense."

Now that he was able to stay awake for sometime without thinking about going back to sleep, it was easier to bicker with Dean. He didn't feel dizzy and fuzzy anymore, and his head didn't hurt like a bitch anymore but was only a low-grade headache.

"You deserved it, bitch. You scared the crap out of me. Never do that again. I don't want to have grey hairs just because of you, my pain in the ass little brother," Dean answered.

Dean was joking around a bit, but he told the truth. He had been devastated, distraught, and torn apart by Sam's condition.

"So you were worried about me?" teased Sam. He knew Dean was worried about him. If the roles would have been reversed, Sam would have been going crazy. They didn't need to tell each other how they felt. They didn't need chick-flick moments because it all went without saying. And the bantering and teasing showed both brothers that stuff was returning to normal or better to, what resembled normal to them.

Some days passed, Sam was getting better, was recovering every day, and had to explain Bobby over the phone he was indeed fine. Now that Sam was on the mend, Dean also used the chance to hit on nurse, Trisha. This fact was used by Sam to make jokes about Dean just thinking with his downstairs-brain and making disgusted comments, just as Dean wanted them. Dean spend the most of the time with Sam, just bickering and bantering and being brothers, joking, talking about disgusting hospital food, and for the first time in a long time, they did forget all their problems (except the "Sam is in the hospital problem with fake insurance infos", but they were coping with that very well). The big bads could wait until Sam was healthy again.

After three weeks, Sam was finally released.

"Hey princess, your chariot awaits," was the greeting Sam got from Dean, when Dean entered his room with a wheelchair.

Sam was already changed in his normal clothes, sitting on the bed waiting to finally blow this Popsicle stand. He hated hospitals, and he was really happy their phony insurance details had lasted Sam's whole stay in the hospital.

At the sight of the wheelchair, Sam rolled his eyes, but he knew there was no way out of riding the wheelchair because Dean was right now a mother hen extraordinary and was about to do anything to assure Sam's health. Besides, it was hospital policy.

So Sam was sitting in the wheelchair with his duffel bag on his lap, finally leaving the hospital while Dean rolled him out.

"Man. It is good to finally leave this place. I swear, Sammy. I just let you go outside, if you were a helmet because apparently you can't do anything without getting a blow to the head!" Dean explained with a soft chuckle.

"You wouldn't dare do that, Jerk," Sam responded grinning.

"Sure I would, Bitch."

The brothers finally returned to what resembled home to them: The Impala. And they would be on the road again, fighting their battle because this was apparently what they did, but before that, they still had to visit the Grand Canyon as planned.

End

So this was it. I hope you liked it :). I would be really glad about reviews and feedback.

Thanks for reading!

Greets from Germany...

die Autorin..