Author's Note: I just wanted to thank everyone who replied to the first chapter. I was nervous about posting this and the wonderful reviews I got were incredibly confidence-inspiring. Thank you so much! Hope you like this one, even though it's shorter :o)
Disclaimer: Still don't own Sammy or Dean...and as always, I'm kinda bummed about it.
**********
"I think he's lookin' better. More color in his face."
Dean rubbed his face wearily and tried to nod. "Yeah, I guess."
"You don't think so?"
"Can't really tell."
With his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, Bobby slowly made his way to the other side of Sam's bed; his eyes placid and inquisitive as he studied Sam's features.
It had only been a few short hours since Bobby's arrival at the Boston hospital. The sun was slowly rising, casting a cheerful early morning glow through the small parts in the blinds. Dean still sat in his chair at Sam's right side, leaning back heavily with his foot resting on the metal bed frame just underneath the mattress. He rarely moved, and when he did it was only to run his fingers through Sam's thick, chocolate brown bangs, tenderly moving them away from his brother's face.
Bobby, for his part, was still trying to negotiate Dean into a shower, shave and sleep at the small motel only ten minutes from the hospital parking lot. The older hunter was getting frustrated, Dean knew it, but at the same time he showed understanding.
Hunters—in essence—were loners. They lived nomadic lives, crisscrossing the country and never settling in one town longer than it took to take care of business and move on. Friendships were a rarity and family meant absolutely everything to those that had it.
Sam and Dean Winchester were no exception. They were the poster children for family loyalty and fierce devotion.
That didn't stop Bobby from trying, however.
"One hour, Dean, that's all I'm askin'. Go to the motel, have a shower and get yourself cleaned up. Sleep for a bit and then head back."
"Am I really that ripe, Bobby?"
Dean knew the joke had fallen flat the second it had left his mouth, but he was slightly relieved to see that Bobby appreciated the attempt at humor anyway. His eyes were gentle. "I just want you to start takin' care of yourself, that's all. When Sam gets back on his feet, he's gonna need you."
Dean sighed and wiped his mouth quickly. "Yeah, I know."
"You gotta hold yourself together. You'll only go crazy if you don't."
"You think he's gonna pull through this?"
Dean could tell that Bobby was thrown by the unexpectedness and seriousness of the question. It was a "make or break" kind of question; Bobby's confidence would mean the world to him…any negativity would completely destroy him.
Dean's eyes focused completely on Sam's face, the intense silence in the room making him swallow hard.
Finally, Bobby spoke. "Sam's a tough kid, Dean. You raised him right. If anyone's gonna make it through this, it's gonna be him."
There was a sudden stinging sensation in Dean's eyes and he found himself sniffling quietly before he could even think to help himself. The relief that small statement had released in his chest was almost suffocating—he drew a deep breath.
"You did good, Dean."
It wasn't often that Dean let his memories run away with him. Actually, he tried his hardest to keep certain thoughts and feelings locked away in a drawer in the far corner of his mind. There, locked in that drawer, they couldn't hurt him…they couldn't cause any damage.
Dean Winchester had learned a long time before that memories couldn't be out run.
But there, at that moment, memories flooded his consciousness. In his mind's eye was a five year old Sam, making a running jump at his bed and then snuggling into his older brother's lap…the refreshing smell of his recently washed hair, still damp from his nightly bath…how he'd fit perfectly against Dean's chest, his weight the most comforting and reassuring feeling in Dean's world.
The way Sam had always grinned the second Dean had cracked the spine of new Curious George book.
The five year old who'd followed Dean around for years with worshipping eyes had changed in probably a thousand ways as he'd grown up. Sam was now taller, stronger and more muscular; a man who was more than capable of defending himself. He'd graduated from girls having cooties and milk, to steady girlfriends and beer.
But that had never mattered, and it never would. It didn't matter how tall Sam got or how much weight he could bench press. He'd always be the little brother and it would always be Dean's job to stand in between Sam and the rest of the world. To be the shield between Sam and everything else, supernatural or otherwise.
It was a job he took seriously and he wouldn't trade it for anything.
As far as Dean was concerned, being a big brother was the coolest job in the world.
It had it's perks; he could tease Sam relentlessly and without mercy…he always had someone to talk to those evenings when he thought he'd rather be alone, but deep down, talking things out was the only thing that would make him feel better. He had someone to protect, someone to look after.
Dean had always been better at loving unconditionally than being loved.
He started slightly as his army issue duffel bag was gently set in his lap, Bobby letting go of the handles and looking down to meet his eyes. "Go for an hour."
"You're freakin' persistent, Bobby."
"Yeah, well."
The younger man sighed and leaned forward slowly in his seat, raking a hand shakily through his hair. "If I go…"
"Yeah?"
"If somethin' were to happen." Dean started shaking his head, letting out a breath. "I gotta be here."
"I doubt anythin' is gonna happen in an hour."
"Look, uh-" Standing from his chair, Dean started towards the door. "Stay with him for a minute, I'll be right back."
After a quick affirmative nod from Bobby, Dean pulled open the door and stepped out into the brightly lit hallway. The ICU was just as quiet as ever. It was just after 6:30 in the morning and there were three nurses talking quietly at the nurse's station; Dean made his way over and gently cleared his throat as he got closer. All three nurses he recognized and they all seemed to recognize him, too, sending him warm smiles the closer he got.
"Good morning, Mr. Sobel."
Dean nodded and returned the smile as best he could. "Morning ladies." He cleared his throat again. "I was just wondering what time Dr. Hogarth gets in today?"
The nurse sitting at the far desk, Megan, increased the wattage of her smile just slightly. "He'll be in at eight."
"Is something wrong, Dean?"
Looking from face to face, Dean shook his head. "No, nothin' like that. I was just gonna head out for an hour or so to get cleaned up…had a couple questions for him."
Robin, another nurse sitting behind the desk, stood from her chair. "I'm actually Sam's nurse for today, I was just about to come in and check on him."
"Oh, ok."
Making her way around the desk, she fell into step beside Dean as they started down the hallway. "I heard from his night nurse that he had a good night?"
Dean focused his eyes on the sickeningly shiny linoleum floors as they walked. "I guess. He was the same last night as he was yesterday…and the day before that-"
Robin nodded sympathetically. "I know it's difficult. But sometimes, no change is a good thing."
Dean couldn't find the energy to answer.
As far as he was concerned, change was the best thing. Change would see Sam awake, change would see Sam talking and moving…
No change kept Sam in that God forsaken bed.
Dean made it to the door first and pulled it open, motioning Robin inside. She sent him another smile and walked into the room with a purpose; Bobby, who was still standing at the end of the bed, watched slightly wide eyed as the duo walked in.
Robin approached Sam's bed and immediately started checking the set up.
As was her usual routine, she pulled a small pen light from the pocket of her shirt and clicked it on, shining it into each of Sam's eyes in turn.
Dean desperately tried to study her reaction, but frustratingly enough, there was nothing to study. She was focused and completely stoic.
Next, she moved to Sam's heart monitor. A long piece of paper was protruding from the machine, long enough to trail to the floor; Robin picked it up and examined it carefully, making small markings on the paper with a pen.
"How's he lookin'?"
Robin glanced up at him for a quick second. "Everything looks normal. His pupils are reacting to stimulation and his EKG looks steady."
Dean nodded and swallowed hard. "So…he should be ok for a bit?" She met his eyes. "I mean, if I head out for an hour or so?"
Dean was immediately embarrassed. Understanding and sympathy flooded Robin's eyes and she gently nodded her head, speaking in a soft voice. "Yes, Dean, he'll be fine. The doctor will be in soon, it's ok."
"You're sure?"
She nodded. "He's ok."
Feeling like a twelve year old, Dean carefully bent and picked up his duffel bag. Robin was once again lost in what she was doing and Dean took the opportunity to talk quietly with Bobby. "Anything happens, call me."
"I will."
"I don't care what it is, you hear me?"
Bobby nodded. "I will."
"The doctor's comin' in at eight, I'll be back just before that."
"Yeah, ok. You still got the key I gave you?"
Dean nodded silently and swallowed hard. With one last, long look at his baby brother, he sent a quick wave to Robin and moved towards the door.
The sound of Sam's heart monitor—no longer muted—followed him out into the hallway.
