Chapter Two

Three weeks later

Time passed so slowly, yet still seemed to race by. Dean had spent a week in a coma because of a concussion from impact in the crash and the massive blood loss, due to the torture that had taken place in the cabin.

Dean's many other injuries, four broken ribs, temporary heart failure, and critical lung problems kept him in UCI for another week after he came out of the coma.

Sam suffered from a broken left arm and a mild concussion. Physically he was better then his older brother, but mentally, he wasn't sure. All the mistakes he thought he'd made, kept playing through his mind, taking him deeper and deeper into a state of absolute shock.

"My plans for you, Sam," the Demon sneered, "and all the children like you."

That was all Sam heard. No beeping of Deans monitor, no chirp of birds, no squealing of gurney wheels...just that. It was eating at him like acid from the inside. He wanted to run, to leave, it was the only way to save his family. But he couldn't bring himself to leave Dean in his weak, vulnerable state. Besides, it was his fault that Dean lay painfully still in his hospital bed.

Peaceful wasn't the word to describe his older sibling right now. Dean looked so...Sam hated to think it, but, ghostly. Even though Dean was asleep, a pained expression lingered on his face. Like a bad dream, a nightmare. Nothing about Dean was peaceful right now. The paleness and sad expression, had 'ghost' written all over it.

Sam sighed and closed his eyes, trying to ease them from the twisted visions in front of him. But he was only met with more the moment his eyes closed. The crash flashed through his mind, as did the screeching of tires and the smell of burnt rubber. Sam shook his eyes open and rubbed his face in frustration.

He hadn't slept since the crash, unless you could call being involuntarily unconscious sleeping. Drugs didn't help either, they made everything more vivid once he shut his eyes. There was no escaping his guilt, so Sam did the only thing he could. Sit, wallow in guilt, and wait.

It felt almost like Deja vu. Everything was repeating itself, at least that's what it felt like to Dean anyway. The beeping, the throbbing pain, the silence and awkward moments that passed like molasses between him and his younger sibling. All of it had happened before and kept happening again.

It was getting beyond annoying and was becoming extremely unbearable. And yet, Dean lay, with the silent ghost of his brother keeping watch, slowly, but surely, healing.

Dean knew ways to keep from healing, and ways of staying in the god-forsaken building of diseases and white, but he found he didn't have to will power to hurt that way anymore.

He tried at first...to stop it. He wouldn't sleep, he wouldn't take the drugs. Hell, he'd get out of bed in the middle of the night and walk stumble the halls, wearing himself down, just so he wouldn't have to leave. Just so Sam wouldn't leave. But now, with the look he had, and the strength he seemed to lack...one almost could say he didn't care anymore.

Sam got on his case more then once about those stupid actions, leaving Dean to sulk in his room. At first Sam just thought Dean wanted more attention, from the cute nurses and all that, but soon Sam came to realize, it was something more...something deeper then that.

If their father had left the hospital without a word, it probably would have been better, but as fate had it, he didn't.

Once John had regained consciousness from the crash, he called Sam in. John didn't ask a single thing about Dean what-so-ever, just confessed to Sam, with tears in his eyes, that everything that The Demon said was true, and then was gone the next day. No indication to where he was going, why he left, how to contact him, no "good-bye, sons, take care, I love you"...nothing. Just left.

Sam's relieved expression, when Dean awoke from his coma, couldn't conceal the truth of that conversation 3 weeks ago.

This information, once shared, didn't help Dean's mental state any more then it helped Sam's. They didn't talk for hours on end. Both sat, silent and drowning, in their own tormenting thoughts.

Right now, out of boredom, Dean's thoughts had come to rest on another painful subject. He was torn between kicking the crap out of something and crying. His precious impala had been totaled in the crash, and they hadn't been able to salvage any of it. It tore Dean apart to think what scrap metal place it must have came to rest in. In a pile with all the ordinary, regular rusted and dented piles of useless materials they used to call cars. What a cruel fate for his baby.

"Hey, dude," Sam said, trying to get his older brothers attention, "I was talking to you."

Dean was snapped out of his crazed trance and snapped his head towards Sam. "What? Oh yeah, I totally agree."

Sam gave Dean a disbelieving look. "You're agreeing that you need to buy a little Japanese car?"

"What?" Dean asked in shock. Sam had an uncanny ability to know what Dean was thinking, and to either bring it up in conversation, or act on it. But being the younger of the two, Sam didn't always get what Dean wanted to do right on the dot. He couldn't believe Sam had even mentioned getting another car so soon. "No." Was Dean's final answer.

This being one of the only lighthearted moments the two had shared in a long time, Sam felt it appropriate to laugh.

Dean gave him a dirty look. "It's not funny."

Sam just sat there smiling from ear to ear with his arm crossed and shook his head.

After the moment passed and Sam settled down, both felt the harsh reality of their situation weigh down on their tired shoulders once more.

Not wanting to endure any more, Dean spoke. "Ok, that's it. Help me out of this bed." Dean motioned as he attempted a sitting position.

Sam sprang to Dean's aid, "Where do you think you're going?" he asked in apprehension, at the same time giving Dean a hand.

"I wanna go bungee jumping," Dean answered sarcastically.

Sam shot him a look.

"Hey, I haven't seen the sky for over three weeks now. I want to get out. Why don't you try lying on your back with no hot chick beside you and no coffee for that long, and see how you turn out, hmm?" Dean snapped.

"Okay, okay, point taken," Sam sighed and helped Dean the rest of the way out of bed.

"Get my clothes, will ya? I don't wanna leave looking like this. The ladies out there need a handsome well dressed hunter not a pale hospital ghost in this shit," Dean said, searching the room for his clothes.

Sam thought that was the most accurate description of his brothers appearance at the moment but he would never allow himself to said it a loud.

Sam gathered the clothes he had brought Dean. The ones from the crash were torn and bloody, not to mention cut up when they had him in emergency.

After a most painful time, Dean was finally dressed.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked curiously.

"To get you a wheel chair," Sam answered, halfway out the door.

"No, no. I don't need it." Dean started for the door.

"Dean, I really think you should-"

"I. Don't. Need. It," Dean said defiantly.

Sam saw the look on his brother's face and gave up. With a heavy sigh, Sam walked over and put his arm over Dean, around his shoulders. At first Dean resisted, but the look Sam shot him made Dean's arm fall limp and he let Sam lead him out of the room.

The two hobbled awkwardly along the corridor until they came to a hallway desk. Sam left Dean leaning against the nearby wall while Sam got permission for them to walk the halls.

Walking. That was the only relatively "fun" thing Dean could do in that freaking hospital. Since none of the nurses were female on his floor, which Dean thought was something that Sam had arranged with his doctors in order to let Dean heal without distractions.

How brotherly of him, Dean thought sarcastically.

"Yea, I get to go for a walk. Oh, please take me to the park. Won't you?" Dean asked sarcastically in a child's voice as Sam returned.

"Shut up. This was your idea." Sam hissed, as he took his brothers arm to support him so they could walk together without Dean falling over. "Actually...yes, yes we can go to the park."

Dean looked at Sam. "What'd you have to do to get that?" Dean winked at Sam and looked back at the male nurse at the desk.

"Shut up," Sam scoffed. "You can only go for half an hour."

Dean chuckled, "Guess whatever it was you did...you weren't good enough at it."

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled him a little harder along the corridor. "Jerk."

Dean couldn't resist, "...Bitch."

Dean didn't show it, but he really did want to get out. The one thing he was best at though, besides hunting, was his sarcastic charm in any situation. Sam was getting annoyed with him so he thought he'd better shut up now. He wouldn't be able to make it to the park alone, and he didn't want a male doctor or nurse to help him that's was for sure, Sam was a better choice then any of them.

A few moments passed of Dean's slight gasps and wheezes and even though Sam was beside him, Dean could feel making-sure-he's-ok glances from Sam every few seconds. It was almost worse then when he couldn't see Sam at all and he'd breathed down Dean's neck in worry. Enough was enough. Dean decided to break the brotherly checking-up-on-glances with none other then his old standard...complaining.

"I get locked in a hospital bed for three weeks and get thirty minutes in a park to sit and stare into space," Dean said, annoyed. "What a rip off," he declared, glaring.

"You know, you're lucky the doctors let you out at all." Sam snapped, guiding Dean toward the exit that led to the park area of the hospital grounds where patients who were well enough to enjoy some outdoor air could spend some time.

"Oh, yeah? And why's that?" Dean asked, losing his balance and stumbling over his own feet.

Sam caught him, "Because of that."

Dean scrunched up his face in dismissal, "I'm fine."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Dean. You know you're still weak and need medical attention. You're lungs haven't fully healed and your hearts still-"

"Don't. Yes, I know. Now can you please take me to the damn park?" Dean snapped back.

Sam helped Dean to stand, then steadied him as Dean held his breath and gripped his chest. Dean's face twisted with the pain he felt sting his body, but Sam remained silent. He knew all to well that Dean didn't like to be reminded when he was the damsel in distress and Sam would be damned if he mentioned it again.

Dean did feel like shit, though. His lungs were the worst part. They hungered for air but it was so difficult to breathe, it was almost too painful too even try. With the short, shallow, heaving and gasping he had to do to get a breath, his chest tightened every time, making it even more agonizing. It affected everything. Because of the lack of air, and the trying, it hurt his chest, as well as his already throbbing, oxygen starved head. It made it hard to stand, to keep standing. Everything was just plain painful.

What seemed like a life time later, the brothers reached the hospital park, a small but nicely tended area with benches and walkways winding between low flower beds.

The walk had taken a lot of Dean. With every step he took, he felt like he'd aged twenty years, so it roughly felt he was somewhere over two hundred now. His chest exploded with pain and under-used muscles, so he sat on the bench to catch his breath.

Sam took a place beside him and watched as his older brother's hazel eyes closed from exhaustion. Sam hoped that Dean would be able to make it the whole thirty minutes and the journey back to his room without passing out.

Sam looked at his brother again and thought that Dean was going to faint. Sam cursed himself knowing Dean hadn't been ready for all the movement yet. Dammit, thought Sam. It's always my fault.

It had only been two minutes, not even that, but Sam couldn't take it any longer.

"Dean..." Sam held onto his brother's shoulder. "You don't look so good."

"Yeah, well..." Dean wheezed, "That's because I feel like shit." His words were barely more then a whisper and his eyes remained closed.

Sam was a little taken aback at Dean's candor at how truly felt. "I'm gonna go get you a wheelchair," Sam said, it wasn't a question. Sam waited for an answer, and what he got was Dean obviously losing consciousness.

Dean could barely support himself now, but Sam had to get him back inside and he couldn't carry him, and Dean sure as hell couldn't walk. Sam leaned Dean against the back of the bench and stood.

"I'm going inside to get some help and a wheelchair. Stay here, ok? I'll be right back," Sam said to Dean's pale body, hoping Dean could still hear him.

Sam rushed back into the hospital and shouted to the first nurse he saw.

"Please, I need a wheelchair now!"

" Why? What's wrong? Are you ok?" The nurse looked over Sam with concern.

"It's not me, it's my brother, he's a patient. He's wanted to go outside but he wouldn't use a chair. I think it was too much for him, he started to feel sick," Sam said more urgently.

"Alright, calm down." The nurse hushed Sam and then grabbed a wheelchair from a back room. "Now, where did you say he was?'

Sam quickly guided her to the outside park, and was met with something much worse then a pale, half dead Dean.

"Where is he?" The nurse asked, looking around. "I don't see him."

Sam nearly swallowed his heart then and there. He was gone. Dean was gone.

"Maybe another nurse took him back to his room already?" She asked, trying to give reason to the madness.

"No, they would've had to pass us. We were in the main hall way. This is the closest door." Sam stammered, running his hands through his hair in shock and horrific confusion.

No. He couldn't have gotten up and walked away. Sam knew Dean hated the hospital but even Dean couldn't fake something that real.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, looking around.

"Sshhh!" The nurse held a finger to her lips. "Please don't yell! We may be outside but it's still a hospital."

Sam wanted to yell at her and ask her if she knew what it was like to suddenly lose their only sibling . But he held his tongue and tried to think of where Dean could have gone.

"Maybe someone saw where he went off to," the nurse tried to give an explanation again. "I'll go and ask around." She turned to leave, and Sam quickly followed at her heels.

Sam started to ask every passer by, while the nurse called over the P.A. system Dean's fake hospital name. No response. Well, there were plenty of responses. Plenty of, "No, I didn't see him," and "No, I didn't help anyone by that name," and the worst, "Who's that?"

Sam came to a grim conclusion. There was no way Dean had left under his own power. No, some one had to have taken him.

Soon the security guard for the hospital came, and he started asking Sam a series of repetitive questions.

Yes, he'd been in a car crash three weeks ago but...
No, I don't think he would escape...
Yes, 6´ tall , green eyes...
No , he's only got me…

His mind was racing. He barely heard the questions at all. He answered everything truthfully, except his name and the facts about their father. He had to be careful about bringing the police into it now. They could make the whole thing worse than it already was.

Sam answered the questions over and over, and with every question came a flood of memories...

Flashbacks of their childhood, the hunting trips, the Demon talking to and torturing Dean, the crash, the damned hospital weeks, the last few days...the last few hours...the last few minutes...

The security guard promised they would attempt to look for Dean, making their oh-so-meaningless and common, We'll be in touch, line. Sam remembered Dean's bleak outlook on cops and sighed now as he was forced to completely agree.

Over an hour and a half since Dean's disappearance, still nothing.

Suddenly, Sam's cell phone rang...

Authors notes: i´m changing a bit all the chapters waiting for my beta to send me back the new ones. R&R always wanted