A/N: Sorry, I know it's been a few days. Time and health haven't exactly been on my side lately. But here is the conclusion.
8:42pm Saturday
The silence in the waiting room was thick. The bombshell Sam had just dropped left John and Dean speechless. The expression on John's face was indecipherable, but Dean's was unmistakable.
"What the hell, Sam?"
"Dean, now is not the time." John said, a tiny fraction of his old my way or the highway attitude coming back.
"Dad, it's okay. I do want to explain, but I just can't handle an argument now." Sam said.
"Sam, I'm not mad. I just don't get it." Dean said. "You left us because of hunting…"
"No, Dean. Did I hate hunting? Yes. I still do most of the time. I left you two because something good happened to me and you didn't care. You were more concerned with killing that demon than letting me leave and live my own life." Sam explained. "If you two had given me a chance to go, I would have come back for every break and every summer. I would have helped you with research as much as I could, kept you in the loop about classes, girlfriends, whatever. I would have kept you in my life. But I left because you two couldn't do the same for me."
Dean sighed in frustration. Did Sam really think that Dean would have completely cut him off had Sam gone to Stanford?
"Sam. You're right. I put the hunt ahead of you and your brother countless times. I regret that, and I wish I could take it back, but it's too late to change the past. I'm sorry, son."
"Yeah, Sammy, you're right. I should have supported you."
Sam nodded. "Thanks, guys."
"So, how'd did you two meet?"
Sam smiled again, amazed that Dean could make him smile this much at a time that he felt so afraid. "She's a hunting friend of Jim's. She would stay with him sometimes while I was working and going to school. She would try to talk to me, but I stayed away from her for a while. I didn't want anything to do with hunting. The night that I graduated, we, um…" Sam chuckled, not sure why it was awkward to mention this in front of Dean of all people. "We got drunk, and nine months later, Amy and Emily showed up."
"That's great, Sam." John said. "I'm glad you're happy, son. I mean that."
John had questions, but chose not to ask them then. How did Sam have enough money to take care of himself, two children, and his wife on what he made as a substitute teacher and the nonexistent salary of a hunter? What were the girls like? What was Alice like? Did he need anything? John knew that if Sam had ever really been in trouble, Bobby or Jim would've gotten in touch with him to let him know. John made up his mind, in an effort to try and convince Sam to let them back in his life for good, to do everything the opposite way as before. Let Sam take the reins and decide how involved or uninvolved he could be instead of trying to control everything as before. John glanced at Dean, who seemed confused but grateful that Sam had let them come back at all. Before they could say anything else, a doctor appeared at the doorway.
"Mr. Winchester?"
Sam jumped up immediately. The doctor in the doorway, Dr. Harlow, had been the one to decide Amy should have emergency surgery. Sam hadn't seen him since. Sam fought to keep his composure, a struggle made all the more difficult when Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder.
"We need to talk. Can you come with me, please?"
"It's okay, doc. This is my dad and brother." Sam said.
"All right." Dr. Harlow took a deep breath. Delivering bad news to parents was by far the least favorite part of his job. "Amy's alive. And there's good news and bad news. The good news is the only broken bones she suffered was a clean break in her leg."
"How's that possible? She was hit full force by the car." Sam asked.
"I know. I thought the same thing. But we gave Amy a full body X-ray and only found the break in her leg. We put a cast on her and that should heal fairly quickly."
"So what's the bad news?" Sam asked.
Dr. Harlow frowned. "In simplest terms, Amy hit her head very, very hard when she went down. It's the closest thing to a miracle I've ever seen that she doesn't have a skull fracture. The problem is with her brain."
"Her brain?"
"Yes." Dr. Harrow said. "Amy's not waking up. And we're not entirely sure why."
Sam's knees turned to jelly, and Dean had to take his arm to help steady him. "Is she…is she in…" Sam swallowed hard. "Is she braindead?"
"No." Dr. Harlow said emphatically. "No, she is not braindead. I want to be clear on this. Amy is fighting. We've been monitoring her brain activity the entire time. It is very strong. That's the best sign we have right now."
"Sign for what?" Dean asked.
"Of whether or not she will wake up. At all." Dr. Harlow answered. "I'm sorry, but we've done all we can for Amy. The only thing we can do from this point is continue to monitor her condition. It's all up to her now."
2:32am Sunday
The lives of everyone in that small hospital room were at a standstill.
Alice had gotten there around midnight, and was currently sleeping on the bed next to Amy. Sam was in a chair directly next to the bed, holding a sleeping Emily in his lap and using one hand to hold Amy's. Sam had attempted to get Bobby to take Emily home that night so she could sleep in her own bed, but the stubborn girl refused.
"No, Daddy, I'm not going. Amy needs me."
After several more attempts, Sam had given up. He'd explained to John that the girls had slept together every night of their lives and he wasn't about to have to deal with a tantrummy Emily tonight. Sam had been shocked at John's answer of,
"You're right, son."
Bobby and Dean each slept in a chair next to the bed. John was not sleeping, but was keeping his eyes on an anxious Sam. Sam was the father to his girls that John had always longed to be. Once Sam had left and John had done a little soul searching of his own, he'd realized that a lot of what Sam had said was true. The hunt did always come first, and it came at a detrimental cost. He'd killed the demon, his goal from the point of Mary's death onward, but it had cost him what he really wanted. A close, tight bond with his baby boy. He'd regretted it every day since Sam had walked out the door.
Sam stirred in his seat, and John was snapped out of his thoughts. Sam stood up, walked over to Alice's side of the bed, gently placed Emily into her mother's arms, and left the room. John followed behind him. Sam was making a brisk pace for the trashcan at the end of the hall, where he promptly leaned over and vomited all the contents of his stomach.
"Okay, Sam, let it all out."
Sam vomited twice more, then collapsed next to the trash bin. The hall was nearly empty, with only one nurse manning the desk. She looked at them with concern, but John waved her off. He sat down next to Sam, who was breathing hard and fast.
"Breathe, son. Breathe. Just breathe."
"I don't know if I can do this, Dad." Sam said, his chest heaving up and down with panic that was fighting to come out.
"Do what, Sam?"
"I can't breathe. I can't think. I just want my baby to wake up." Sam said, placing a hand in front of his mouth to control his barely stifled sobs.
"Sam, you know her better than I do, but if she has half the stubbornness that you did at that age, you have to believe she'll wake up soon."
Sam laughed bitterly and nodded. "She's definitely that."
"What? Stubborn?"
"Yeah." Sam said. "I always told her she gets it from her mother."
John laughed, running a hand up and down Sam's back to try and comfort him. Once Sam had regained a bit of his self-control, he looked at his father with shame-filled eyes.
"Dad, I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what, Sam?"
Sam sniffed. "It was selfish of me to just walk out that door. To cut you guys off."
"Sam, don't…"
"Please, just let me get this out." Sam said. "I've wanted to do it for a long time."
John nodded. "Okay."
"I'm gonna be completely honest with you, though. And you might not like a lot of what I'm saying. Are you sure you're ready for that?"
"It's okay, Sam."
"Dad, I loved you. I still do. And I never doubted that you loved me as your son. But I never felt like you really loved me as a person. It was just too hard for me once I was old enough to really start thinking on my own to try and talk to you in any kind of a normal way. Does that make sense?" Sam asked, hoping it did through his sleep deprived brain.
"Yeah, Sam, it does."
"You know, I was always jealous of you and Dean. The way you two could go from hunting to talking about girls or music or whatever. I always wanted that kind of a relationship with you." Sam said.
"I wanted it to, Sam. I still do, if you're willing."
Sam sighed. "Dad, that's my point. I love you and I do want you in my life and my girls' lives. But there are conditions. Because, and I'm sorry if this hurts your feelings, as much as I love you, I will not raise my girls the same way. If you can't handle that, you need to get in the Impala and go."
"What are they, Sam?"
"The most important is this. As far as those girls are concerned, hunting doesn't exist. There's no such thing as monsters or ghosts or anything supernatural for that matter. All they know about Alice's job is that she goes to help people no one else can help. You tell them any differently, you're gone." Sam said.
"Agreed." John said simply.
Really? Sam thought, but continued with his list. "Second, I am their father. Alice is their mother. She and I make decisions about when, if, and how they get punished for something. They are allowed to be kids in my house, Dad."
"Agreed." John said again. "No interfering whatsoever."
"Are you still drinking?"
The question hit John hard, but he decided to be completely honest. "Yes. More than before."
"You have to be sober when you see them. Completely sober. No excuses. If you show up drunk, you don't come back."
"Got it." John said. "Is that it?"
"There's one more." Sam looked back down at the floor, preparing himself to say this. "No broken promises, Dad. If you tell the girls you're coming for a visit, do not dump them for a hunt. I won't let them get close to you just so their hearts can get broken the first time there's a ghost or a poltergeist or a with that you have to chase."
"I second that."
Sam and John looked up to see Alice standing there. Neither of them had seen her coming.
"Hey. What are you doing up?"
"Emily kicks when she sleeps." Alice said.
"Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot to wake you up and tell you I was putting her in there."
"It's okay." Alice said. "I heard what you told your dad. I agree with you."
"It doesn't hurt your feelings that I don't want the girls to ever know?" Sam asked.
Alice sighed. "No. It really doesn't. Because I don't want them doing this either. I love what I do, but it's no life for our kids."
"Dad?" Sam asked. "Are you okay with all that?"
It hurt, somewhat, that Sam felt the need to hide such a big part of life from his kids. But at this point, if Sam was willing to let John get to know his grandkids, he would make whatever promises he had to-and keep them.
"I'm okay with it, Sam. Does that mean Dean and I can stay?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah, Dad, you can stay."
6:00pm Monday
It had been a long weekend, but no one, including Emily, had left the hospital. John, Sam, Alice, Dean, and Bobby took turns entertaining her, but Emily would not leave her sister for long. Finally, as all the adults had Emily preoccupied with a game at the foot of Amy's bed, they heard a sound that stopped all commotion in the room.
"Can I play too?"
"Hey, pooh bear." Sam said, and raced to Amy's side, followed closely by Alice.
"Hi, mommy. Hi, Daddy."
"Hey. How you feeling?" Alice asked.
"Tired. What happened?"
"How much do you remember?" Sam asked.
He was cut off by an excited, "Sissy!" Emily was crawling back onto the bed and over to her sister. "You're awake!"
As Amy hugged her sister, she cast a wary eye on Dean and John. "Who 'dis?" she said, still slightly groggy.
"Well, kiddo, this is John and Dean." Sam said, beginning the introductions. "They're your…"
"They're our grandpa and uncle, Sissy! And they're really super cool! Just like uncle Bobby!" An excited Emily said as she pulled back from her sister.
"Really?" Amy asked.
Sam smiled at his father and brother, who both had eyes shining with tears. "Yeah, pooh bear. Really."
