Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters were created by Eric Kripke and are owned by the CW Network. No profit is being made.

Note to Readers: Thank you for all of the review! I have replied to everyone that left me a means to reply back to, but for all readers that don't sign in, please know I am thankful for your reviews despite not having a means to say so individually. Apologies in advance for any type-O's! I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it develops and I will 'try' to update on weekends. I hope you like this new chapter. Thanks again for reading, it's appreciated!

Timshel

Chapter 2

By Dawn Nyberg

"… Open your eyes, save yourself from fading away now, don't let it go …" lyric excerpt by Within Temptation, The Heart of Everything

Dean paced the narrow confines of the office. "Dean, son, sit, you're makin' me tired just watching you … you're pacing like some kind of caged animal." Bobby rubbed at his beard. They'd been sitting in his friend's nicely decorated office at the hospital ever since he went to examine Sam at their request.

"I thought you said this Frank Benson guy was good," Dean frowned and looked at his watch. "He's had Sammy for a good three hours and nada." Bobby had contacted a friend and former hunter who retired from the things that go bump in the night and went back to practicing medicine at Sanford Medial Center in Sioux Falls not far from Singer Salvage.

"Dean, he's a damn fine neurologist and he'll be in when he can." Bobby and Dean had continued to worry about Sam's speech issues and his left side still seemed lagging not much just enough to count if they had to go up against something and although he tried to mask it to Dean and Bobby it looked like he was having some kind of swallowing problems. They had waited, giving Sam another couple days waiting to see if it was just some weird after effect that would abate. It hadn't and when the fifth day had come since they had been back at Bobby's after Castiel left declaring himself the new God. Bobby had thought of his friend earlier but when day five had arrived with no improvements he suggested his friend to Dean.

Dean had been a little resistant to bringing a stranger in on this but he was a former hunter, a doctor, Bobby's trusted friend and hopefully he could help Sammy and that was all that mattered.

There was a brief knock at the door as Frank Benson walked in, "Hi guys, sorry I kept you waiting … a lot to take care of and I wanted to cover all bases." Dean looked behind the physician and didn't see his brother.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked. "You're not done?"

"The exams are done," Dr. Benson offered. Bobby knew that look on the doctors face.

"I hear a loud 'but' Frank, is Sam just dressing or something?" Bobby threw the bone out there trying to give Dean something to latch onto.

Frank closed his office door, "Please guys, sit and I'm gonna give you the run down."

"Where's Sam?" Dean insisted as he sat down in front of the doctor's desk.

"Settled in a private room up on the neurology unit and I'll take you up to him after I discuss some things with the two of you." Frank had been briefed on what Sam had endured, Hell, the wall and its crumbling, seizures induced by memories and his symptoms after waking from the wall collapse.

"Private room, why the hell is he there?" Dean barked. "You admitted him?"

"Yes," the doctor answered simply.

"What's wrong with him? You find out why he's havin' trouble talking and …" Dean broke off and ran an unsteady hand over his hair.

"Easy Dean, let Frank talk. What's the run down Frank?" Bobby asked concern heavy in his voice.

"Sam suffered a CVA due to the trauma of the wall coming down. The CT and MRI confirm the diagnosis. Bobby felt ill and Dean looked from Bobby back to the doctor.

"What's a CVA?"

"It's short for cerebral vascular accident," the physician elaborated. Dean quirked an eyebrow and pursed his lips and Frank broke it down further before Sam's brother imploded. "He had a stroke, Dean." Dean felt the bile rise unbidden and he lurched forward just as Frank Benson grabbed his wastebasket and held it as Dean's stomach continued to spasm. Bobby was stunned at how fast Dean went from irate to sick in seconds. He leaned forward and placed a supporting hand between Dean's shoulder blades.

"Easy son," Bobby offered soothingly although he felt complete terror on the inside, the word stroke is scary for anyone but especially when you're talking about a kid in his 20's.

Twenty minutes later Dean was settled back in his chair after using the doctor's personal bathroom to rinse his mouth off and his face. Frank looked at both men and could see guilt in them, so he was quick to offer some kind words. "Bobby, Dean, look there is no way it would have crossed your mind that Sam had had a stroke. After listening to you tell me about how when he got his soul back he was unconscious for ten days and even on IV fluids. It's reasonable to think there would be no reason …" Dean put his hand up.

"Cut the crap doc, I screwed up and Sammy is payin' for it," Dean chastised himself. "I should have hauled his ass to the first hospital when he couldn't talk and was stumbling around."

"Dean …" Bobby started.

"Don't Bobby, I mean it. Look I've seen those commercials, the whole, 'time lost is brain lost' … what have I done to him," Dean's jaw was tight but his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"Dean," Dr. Benson started. "Relatively speaking in terms of a CVA, Sam's is minor if you can call a stroke minor. There was no facial droop or other issues. In fact, his mobility issues are very minor and he has compensated quite well and with some physical therapy he'll bounce back Dean. He's young and a speech therapist can help him regain his speaking and he'll get some re-training on his swallowing issues. This wasn't a massive episode, he isn't in a coma or incapacitated. It could have been much worse," the doctor tried to assure, but Dean didn't seem to be finding comfort.

"What about the memories? Huh? I've seen him have a couple flashes … he hasn't blacked out but it's a lot of pain. What if he has another big flash and he seizes again, huh? Is he going to keep having strokes or what?"

"Sam didn't have a CVA due to a blood clot per se, it was a traumatic brain injury of sorts. His case is unique Dean; there aren't textbook cases to refer to for brain injury caused by reliving hell and a year plus without a soul. Look I know the brain but there are areas of Sam's case where even having been a hunter I'm flying blind. I'm not sure what is going to happen physically or psychologically with Sam but I'm going to do everything in my power to get him well."

"Why'd you admit him?"

"Well, a CVA isn't anything to treat lightly. I want to make sure there aren't any progressing issues, although it does appear that he has reached a plateau in side effects from the vascular event."

"You mean you're worried he could get worse or what he's got gong on could get worse?" Dean's mouth thinned out under his internal stress.

"His vitals which are strong are being monitored and he is being monitored to assure his condition is stable and not showing progression. So, yes, I'm seeing if we're at a stopping point or if he shows more symptoms. I'm keeping him a couple days and then he can have his walking papers. Look, Dean, I know you're worried, but Sam is coherent and understands language just fine but is having trouble communicating. Yes, there are a couple other issues but with various therapies he's gonna be back on his feet."

Frank Benson's beeper went off, he picked it up and looked at it, it read Code 99, Neuro, Rm. 108 he stood up abruptly, "What is it?" Dean barked.

Frank was already on the move, "It's a Code 99, your brother's room," he said as he grabbed his lab coat and stethoscope from the hanger behind his office door.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked as he and Bobby followed the doctor to the elevator as the physician inserted his clearance card to override the elevator from stopping on other floors and went straight to the Neuro unit. "Answer me!" Dean grabbed the man's arm as he stepped off.

"It means they've called a code but to what extent I don't know, let me go see. Wait there," he pointed to a waiting room. "Bobby, take him, now!"

Frank Benson ran toward Sam's room and entered quickly taking in that the situation was very critical, Sam was violently seizing, frothy saliva coming from his mouth and his skin color was an ashy blue. "Dammit, we gotta stop the seizure," Dr. Reynolds barked as he looked up at Dr. Benson, his mentor, when he walked in. "Push the Ativan, now!" Dr. Reynolds commanded. Frank stepped up indicating he was taking over running the code of his patient and Dr. Reynolds nodded. They needed to stop the seizure … Sam wasn't breathing during it and from the color of his face and lips he was becoming cyanotic, he needed oxygen now, but they had to get the violent seizure stopped first. "Run of multiple PVC's, he's heading for an arrest," Dr. Reynolds barked and Frank knew they were running out of time before Sam's heart stopped all together.

To Be Continued