Thank you for the kind and encouraging reviews. Now, sit down and hold on cause here comes the angst! There's also going to be some flashbacks from here on out.

Sorry this is so overdue. I fully intended for it to be up last week, but I got swamped with unexpected overtime at work! Yuck!

Chapter 2:

Everything became a blur. He heard no sound. Didn't feel the hits from the things the spirit was throwing at him. Didn't even really see the stairs as he flew down them two at a time. His only thought was of Sam. The sight of Sam's wide eyes, his body falling backwards flashed again before him. A sight Dean would give anything to erase.

Reaching the bottom Dean turned, and then came to a cold stop. Another sight now greeted him. He wished he could burn this one out of his eyes. He found himself frozen to the spot. Tears immediately brimming. The breath was sucked from his lungs. Dean swallowed hard, and with all of his strength willed himself to shuffle forward.

Once he finally forced his body to move he lept forward and fell to his knees beside Sam. His brother was unconscious. He had landed on his back. But his left leg didn't follow suite. It was twisted in a way Dean didn't think was supposed to be possible. As Dean looked at it he could see the bone sticking through just below the knee, the blood already pooling under Sam's leg. Dean slapped his hand over his mouth to keep himself from vomiting. With a deep breath he forced himself to continue his examination of Sam.

With a shaky hand he felt over his little brother's body. Besides his leg, Dean figured Sam had some broken ribs, maybe a broken arm. He moved up Sam's body to his head. There was blood flowing from Sam's nose and mouth. And suddenly Dean noticed the small puddle of red beginning to flow under Sam's mop of brown hair.

"No." Dean whimpered. Swallowing the bile in his throat, he put two fingers to Sam's neck. He almost screamed in relief when he felt the pulse. But he couldn't let himself be fooled. Just because he felt a pulse and Sam was breathing didn't mean anything about this could be looked at as good.

"Hold on Sammy." Dean whispered. He felt as though he couldn't raise his voice if he tried.

Dean wiped his hands, his bloodied hands, on his jeans and reached into his pocket pulling out his cell phone. He almost couldn't keep his finger steady enough to hit the numbers.

As soon as the 911 operator answered Dean blurted out the address and gave a quick run down on what happened to Sam. Dean didn't even hear what she said back to him. He dropped the phone and bent over his brother. He placed his hands on Sam's face, careful not to move his head.

"You hold on Sammy. You hear me? You hold on. Help is on the way." His whisper was fierce and sure. He couldn't let his little brother hear any doubt in his voice.

No, he had to be strong for Sam. He had to make sure Sam knew everything was going to be okay. That his big brother had it taken care of. Just like always. Sam would hold on and stay strong if he knew Dean was there. He could always get his little brother through anything. Sam knew he could count on him.

Dean released Sam's face and reached down, grabbing his hand. He held on tight and with his other hand he stroked Sam's head. "Just hold on little brother. You're gonna be fine."

Dean kept up a constant stream of whispered assurances for what felt like forever. But eventually he heard the sirens in the distance. "See Sammy? They're almost here. Everything's going to be okay."

(flashback)

Sam's scream echoed through his body. Dean's eyes widened when he looked down and saw his baby brother laying on the ground, clutching his arm and sobbing. As fast as he could, Dean climbed out of the tree house and headed down the tree, practically falling himself. He made it to the bottom in seconds. All the while hearing Sam crying his name.

"Sammy!" Dean knelt down next to his brother grabbing onto him.

Sam was clutching his left arm to his body, his eyes were already read and puffy and his face tear streaked. There was also a little blood on his bottom lip.

"It hurts Dean." seven year old Sam cried.

"I know Sammy. But it's going to be okay."

"Cause you'll make it better." Sam said, sniffing and tears still falling.

Dean winced. As he looked at his brother's broken arm he knew he couldn't fix it with a band aid and ice cream this time. He had to get Sam back home to Dad. Dad could fix it.

"It'll be okay Sammy. But we gotta get you home to Dad. He can make it better."

Sam wiped his good arm across his eyes. "Dad's gonna be mad Dean."

"No he's not. You don't worry about it Sammy. Now come on, I'll help you get up."

Dean knew his Dad was going to be mad. They weren't supposed to even be in that stupid tree house. Dad had said it was too high and not sturdy enough. But Dean hadn't listened to him. He had told his Dad they were going to the park. But they snuck over to the tree house, and now Sam was hurt. Dad was definitely going to be mad. Just not at Sammy.

Dean grabbed his brother around the waist and helped him to his feet. Every time he moved, Sam cried out more.

"It hurts real bad Dean."

Dean held onto his brother as they started walking. "I know Sammy. Just hold onto me. Just hold onto me."

(End flashback)

"Just hold onto me Sammy." Dean whispered, squeezing his brother's hand.

Dean released a sigh that was bordering on a sob when he heard the ambulance pull up to the house. The paramedics came crashing through the front door.

"Up here!" He screamed.

A minute later Dean reluctantly released Sam's hand and moved aside to let the EMT's do their job. Dean stood to the side, watching in total numbness. Not for the first time he cursed the medical knowledge he was raised with. Dad had drilled first aid into their heads, making them familiar with how to do it and understanding certain medical terms.

So now, as Dean listened, his gut wrenched even more as he heard the EMT's talking about his brother's injuries. Every word made his gut twist even more. He was sure he was mere seconds away from throwing up. Instead, he backed himself up into the wall behind him and watched as the men in front of him prepared Sam for the ride to the hospital. He watched as they put a collar around his neck, immobilized his leg, and strapped him to a backboard. He watched them put an IV into his hand and strap an oxygen mask over his face. He watched as they placed gauze over his wounds to stop the blood flow.

Dean followed them down the stairs and out the front door all the way to the ambulance doors. Until he was stopped with a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry sir, you can't ride with us." The paramedic said.

"Bull shit! That's my little brother. I'm coming with you." Dean shouted.

The paramedic gave Dean a very sympathetic look. "I understand that sir. But we need the room to work. I promise, we will take good care of him."

Dean wanted nothing more than to continue to argue, or force his way inside the ambulance. Or punch the guy. Instead, he gave in. All of that would just be wasting time that Sam didn't have. So instead he nodded and stepped aside.

"We'll be going to Memorial." The paramedic said. "Why don't you have someone drive you."

Dean just nodded and watched as the doors closed and the ambulance sped away. He turned back and looked at the house. For the first time since Sam fell, he thought of the spirit. For some reason it had stopped it's attack after Sam fell. A moment of question made him pause, but he decided that right now he just really didn't care why.

Snapping himself out of the haze that was lingering over him, Dean ran back into the house. In a frenzy he collected the weapons and bags they had left behind. He didn't even bother to be cautious of the spirit. And luckily it didn't make a reappearance. On his way out he stopped for a second to stare at the blood stain where his brother's body had fallen. He clenched his jaw and blinked back the tears. It was time to move. Within minutes he had everything thrown into the trunk of the Impala and was speeding down the road.

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For what was probably the hundredth time, Dean stood and paced the circle of the small waiting room. He had already been there for over an hour and no one had told him a damn thing yet. The only thing he knew for sure was that Sam was still alive. That was the only thing he had to cling to.

As he felt the eyes of the other people in the waiting room on him watching him pace, he found a seat in the corner of the room and sat back down. Damn he hated hospitals. He swore he would give his right arm if he never had to be in another one again. The waiting game was the worse. It gave him too much time to think.

And all he could think about was why he was here. He was here waiting for news on his broken brother because he screwed up. All of his life he was Sam's protector. It was ingrained in him since he was four years old. And for all of his bitching about his little brother, Dean wouldn't want it any other way. His brother was the most precious thing in his life. He would give his life right then if it would save Sam. But now. Now he was the reason Sam was here.

Over and over Dean replied those last minutes. If only he hadn't shoved Sam so hard. Or maybe if he just would have shouted a warning Sam could have ducked in time. But all he could think of at the moment was that knife heading towards his brother. Dean snorted. Right now a knife wound would be preferable. Anything would be preferable than the memory of his brother laying broken that was etched into his mind.

Dean clenched his jaw and held back the tears that were once again threatening to fall. He would not cry damn it. Sam was not dead. He was hurt bad, but he would pull through this. Everything would be okay because he said it would. Dean promised Sam he would be fine, and Dean never broke a promise to his little brother.

Suddenly a thought popped into his head. It hit him so hard he knew there was no way he was going to be able to control it. He got up quickly and found the nearest restroom. He entered it and locked the door behind him, then immediately proceeded to be sick. Leaning over the toilet Sam's words swam through his head over and over.

"Promise me Dean. Promise me."

And he had. He had made the promise to kill his own brother. And now he was waiting on word to find out if he had kept it.

"Damn it!" Dean shouted, his voice echoing in the small space. What the hell had they done in their lives to deserve this?

Dean stood and leaned over the sink, splashing cool water on his face. "Damn you Dad." He whispered. "How could you leave us like this?"

With one last splash of cold water Dean headed back tot he waiting room. He took the seat that had been his. The room was empty of a few more people and everything seemed too quiet.

(Flashback)

"It's too quiet in here." Sam said, peering up over the magazine he was reading.

"I told you to get your walkman out of the car." Dean said looking at his brother. At fourteen Sam had to be the biggest complainer Dean had ever met. He took the whole 'teenage angst' thing to the next level. Dean didn't remember ever being as bad as his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Why does it always take so long for someone to talk to us?"

"They'll be out when they have something to say. Now would you just shut up." Dean snapped. Five hours ago he had driven like a bat out of hell to get their Dad to the emergency room. Their latest hunt didn't go quite as planned and Dad had ended up being speared with by a metal rod. And they were still waiting for news.

"Think he's okay?" Sam asked, worry lacing his voice.

"Of course he is. Don't worry Sammy."

Both boys heads snapped up when the doctor finally came through the doors.

"Family of Mr. Winchester?"

(End flashback)

Dean was snapped out of his memory when he heard the double doors swing open. He watched as an elderly doctor made his way to the waiting room. His heart sped up. Please let this be about Sam, he thought.

The doctor stopped at the opening to the waiting room. "Family of Mr. Baker?"

Dean jumped to his feet. "I'm his brother."

"I'm Doctor Colby." The man extended his hand giving Dean a small smile. "I've been taking care of your brother. Why don't you follow me and I'll tell you what's going on."

-TBC-

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