Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me! *CRIES*

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Dean took a shaky breath as he reached into his pocket for his cellphone, the whole time his eyes never leaving Sam's face, afraid of might happen if he did. He dialled 911 and balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder as his fingers brushed Sam's shaggy brown hair from his forehead, his hands becoming red from his little brother's blood.

"Hello, 911, what is you're emergency?" A calm, female voice asked over the receiver, the sound jolting Dean from his task of staring down at Sam.

"It's, It's my little brother he, he's –" Dean choked up as he felt Sam's broken ribs under his fingertips and saw how his head lolled uselessly against Dean's chest, a slow torrent of blood running down his chin from his burst lip.

"He's what sir?" The voice demanded more urgently, which made Dean realise the seriousness of the situation. He had get his act together or Sam might die; the thought sent him into what Sam had referred to him many times as 'soldier'.

"He's hurt, real bad okay? He's gonna die unless I get some help out here, NOW" He replied, gripping his brother tighter to his chest as the tears fell down his cheeks. Dean glanced around the school area but saw no one out there, no one that could help save his brother. It was all up to him.

"Okay sir, I need your names and location" she requested and Dean realised with a jolt he didn't even know where he was, he didn't bother to learn the area that well because they were only due to stay there for a few weeks. He only knew the name of the school and town, nothing more.

"Dean, Dean Winchester and my brother Sammy, we're at the back of Rosendale high school in Conrad, Iowa, please hurry" He pleaded, sounding desperate, but Dean didn't care. Sam was his pressure point. Do anything to Sam and Dean would break, it was one of the only things that would make Dean Crumble; his little brother.

"Okay sir I need you to sit tight, we're sending out emergency services now, they should be with you in a few minutes. Now in the meantime, we advise you not to move your brother too much, too much movement may worsen his condition. Can you tell me what his injuries are?" She asked kindly and her voice seemed to sooth Dean.

"He's got a few broken ribs and judging by the noises he's making, they've burst a lung, a broken leg, looks like a fractured skull and god knows how many internal injuries… please, please hurry" He begged, his voice sounding choked up. He dropped the cellphone, ignoring the calls from the person on the other end and held Sam's hand.

He knew he didn't do 'chick flick' moments but he needed reassurance that Sam was still alive, still holding on, he needed to know that he hadn't lost him. Dean gripped Sam's bloody hand tighter, squeezing his eyes shut from the tears that threatened to fall.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, it could've been hours, days, weeks, but Dean didn't care. He was too focused on watching Sam's shallow breathing and any sign of movement. He heard, vaguely, the sound of sirens in the distance and quietly thanked whatever god was out there. Dean wasn't the praying type, or the religious type, but when it came to his Sammy… he would try anything.

The ambulance pulled up, the lights still swirling making Dean's head spin. He continued to cling to Sam, determined he wouldn't let him go. He had promised him, promised Sammy, years ago he would always protect him and he had broken that promise. If only he had come back five minutes earlier. If only he put Sam first instead of thinking of himself. The if only's continued to whirl around his head, making him feel sick.

A middle aged woman with dark hair and worried eyes came running towards him, carrying a large medical bag and another young man with the lightest blonde hair Dean had ever seen came sprinting behind her, pulling along a gurney. They skidded down beside him, the woman gently feeling Sam for a pulse.

"Okay sir, you need to let go now" The woman urged him, tugging Sam from Dean's grasp. Dean knew he should, it would be in Sam's best interest but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He had always taken care of Sam, always, whenever he was sick – dean would look after him, whenever he fell – Dean would clean his cuts, whenever he was stuck on homework – Dean would help, it had always been Dean. Now, he felt as though he had failed. Sam was hurt because of him, and he didn't want to let him go.

"Dean" She said more sharply "If you want your brother to live I suggest you let us do our job" And with that Dean knew she was right. It was Sam's only chance. Ignoring the painful tug in his heart, Dean, very gingerly, laid Sam on the ground, keeping his head on his knee.

Immediately, the two paramedics leapt into action. They put pressure on Sam's head wound, stopping the flow of blood running down the side of his face. They analysed the wounds on his torso and Dean tried to ignore the wince they gave when they saw the damage. With gentle, motherly hands the woman wrapped Sam's broken leg in a temporary splint, sharing an urgent look with the other paramedic.

"Okay, on the count of three" She said, gripping Sam under the arms, pulling him from Dean's grasp.

"One… two… three" She said and they both heaved Sam of the dusty ground, lifting him as if he was just a dummy and not an actual person. Sam landed on the gurney, his head lolling but other than that there was no movement from him. Not even a groan.

Dean was on his feet in an instant, not wanting to leave Sam by himself. He followed the paramedics, his eyes never leaving Sam's still form, hoping and praying he would be alright. His hopes began to dwindle though as he saw the blood soaking into Sam's plaid shirt, the purple bruises already forming on his entire face and the state that his broken leg was in, the bone prodding though the pale skin.

Dean didn't even bother to wipe away the salt water that cascaded down his cheeks, leaping into the ambulance and sitting beside his brother.

They speeded away down the highway, zigzagging through cars to get to the hospital in time. Dean reached out and carefully took Sam's fragile hand in his own, regretting every moment of the past half an hour. He should've been there dammit, it was all his fault. His little brother wouldn't be in this state if Dean had just done his job, if he'd have been there to protect him. The guilt and pain consumed him like wildfire, eating him whole.

"Dean, can you tell me what happened?" The woman asked kindly, adjusting the bandages surrounding Sam's torso. Dean tore his gaze away from his little brother, gulping back the thousand emotions threatening to escape.

"I don't – I don't know… I was too late to get there, these kids were beating him up, and I couldn't stop them…" Dean swallowed, his eyes blurry from the tears that he didn't want to fall.

"It's not your fault Dean, you did what you can and that's what counts" She muttered, just as the ambulance parked outside the emergency entrance to the hospital, doctors and nurses already waiting for their arrival with determined faces on.

Sam was pulled from the ambulance, the movement jostling his small and still form as he was rushed through the corridors of the hospital, his hand dangling over the side of the gurney.

Dean raced to keep up, his legs feeling like jelly with every step he took. He could've believe what had happened. Nothing this bad had ever happened to Sam before. Fair enough he'd been beat around by ghosts and things that go bump in the night before but he was always okay, always picked himself up and carried on, but now he just looked… broken beyond repair.

Sam was wheeled into a room through the double doors, the doctors and nurses had already begun prodding him. Dean was ready to follow, to never leave Sam's side again but a strong hand landed on his chest, preventing any further movements.

"I'm sorry sir but you're going to have to wait here" He said in a stern voice, his eyes hard. Dean felt anger swell up in his chest like a wild anger. Who was he to tell him he couldn't see his brother? If anyone had the right to if was him, he practically raised the kid.

"He's my brother, I'm not going to leave him here alone" Dean growled out, glaring at the doctor with such an intense protectiveness the young doctor's heart missed a beat.

"He's going to need surgery so please Sir… take a seat" He said gently rather than demand, and with that he vanished through the doors, his white coat swirling around his tall frame. Dean immediately lost the anger that was bubbling in his stomach and dejectedly fell into the nearest seat, running a hand through his short hair.

How could he let this happen? Sam was his responsibility and his alone, he was supposed to look after him and he had failed. Sam was in a hospital, going into surgery, all because Dean was so selfish that he put his needs first. Sam was going to hate him for sure.

Dean sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth, sniffing away more tears that threatened to fall. All he could think about was his little brother and how broken he looked, his small frame looked so fragile and destroyed it broke his heart into a thousand pieces.

Dean shakily pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket, knowing he had to call his dad and let him know what had happened. He may be a complete and utter dick at times, putting hunting before his family but Dean knew he cared for them, even though he didn't always show it at times. He hit speed dial, anxiously waiting for his dad to pick up but it never came… Dean waited and waited until it rang straight to answer phone, the familiar hard voice of his father alerting him to leave a message.

"Um, hey dad it's dean, um… listen, I wish you had answered your phone, it's uh, it's kind of important" dean took a breath, closing his eyes momentarily, trying to forget the state his little brother was in "Its Sammy dad… he's hurt, real bad… and he's, he's in surgery… dad please, I need you, Sam needs you here, please come… I don't know what's going to happen" And with that he snapped the phone shut, knowing that his voice cracked at the end.

There would be hell to pay when his dad got back, no doubt about it, Dean would get the blame for this and he knew it. His dad would shout at him, piling the guilt on him and staring down at him in disappointment and Dean couldn't blame him. Who else's fault was it except his own?

Dean sat like that for hours, his phone clutched protectively in his hands as he struggled to breath. When it got past the four hour mark he knew something went wrong. Call it a sibling thing but Dean felt like he had lost his brother… in more ways than one.

Meanwhile, the doctors were doing all they could to save their young patient that was admitted a few hours previously with severe internal bleeding and head injuries. They had managed to repair his lung, allowing him to continue breathing and had also fixed lacerations to the kidneys but there was continuous bleeding from his other organs, specifically his liver. They had to remove the young patient's spleen to stop it from piercing his heart and that proved to be a difficult task. The internal bleeding wasn't stopping no matter how much effort the doctors put into it.

"We've got more bleeding from the head injury" the surgeon shouted out, watching the monitors carefully as it changed, the young boy's heart slowing down dramatically.

"Alright, we've got to get in there and release pressure off the brain" Another one replied, preparing to sew up the boy's stomach and fix the pressing matters. But the sound of a shrill ringing echoed throughout the surgery room, indicating that the young boy's heart had failed under pressure.

"Okay, charge it up" the surgeon shouted, pressing the paddles to the boy's bruised chest. He rose off the bed, but fell back motionlessly, his limbs like a ragdoll.

"Again, 180" And the same thing happened. No response came from the boy as he flopped back onto the bed. They tried, again and again the doctors tried but they received the same respomce. The young patient was simply too weak to carry on. The surgeon in charge though decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, knowing that the boy was stronger than this. He pressed the paddles to his chest again, hoping that this time… it would work.

Woo hoo. I enjoyed writing this chapter… I love a bit of drama! Ha! Well, your thoughts and comments are very much appreciated; they fuel me to write more! Thank you for reading! xx