Thanks for the reviews! I have no knoweldge of this, though my best friend did used to cut herself. But the medical stuff I've looked up on the internet.


Dean's heart started to pound so hard that he thought it was break his chest. His throat tightened. He felt sick to his stomach. The idea of loosing Sammy, after all this, seemed impossible to him. Unbarable, in fact.

"Sammy," he whispered and flew to the room, not remembering to shut the car door. "Sam!" He ran inside the room and stared a the paramedics leaning over a body. "No." His face paled.

"Sir," said one of them. "Will you please get out of the way and let us do our job?" He stared at him.

"That's my brother!" Dean snapped, pointing to the unconscience Sam on the floory. "So hell no I'm not going to do that!"

The others looked and the main one quickly apologized for the misunderstandings.

"What happened?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer. But he had hoped that it would be different.

"He cut his wrists," said one of the paramedics in a regrettable tone. "He cut it pretty deep."

"He's lost a lot of blood," added another. "So we need to get him to the hospital now before he has perminate brain damage."

"Brain damage," Dean murmured, his face paled. "That's possible?"

They looked at each other.

"It is if you lose enough blood," said one of them. Quickly he moved aside as they lifted a pale looking Sammy onto the stretcher.

"I'm riding with him," he said. They briskly nodded. There was no time to argue. He hurried beside them, trying to keep control of his emotions.

He froze for a moment, before heading inside the ambulance. They hooked Sam up to the machines. Dean knew better than to protest. He hated seeing his little brother so weak and vulnverable, though. He watched them bandage his wrsits to perfection.

Brain damage That thought still haunted his mind. Tears in his eyes he held Sammy's good hand and his body shook the entire way to the hospital.


They left him alone. Alone in his fears as they rushed Sammy into intinsive care to perminantly stop the bleeding and stich him up before it was too late. He placed his hands over his head, rocking back and forth.

I'm sorry, Sammy. He whispered. So sorry.

Again he repeated those words, hating the fact that he had punched his brother. Would that be the last thing Sammy remembered him doing? Punching him?

Suddenly a doctor had appeared.

"Mr. Winchester?" Dean looked up sharply.

"Yeah?" Instantly he was on his feet, fearing the worst. "How is he?"

The doctor sighed.

"He's sleeping right now. It's not great, but it could have been worse."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is he could have lost too much blood. He lost enough to substain some perminate damage, though."

Oh shit.

"What...what kind?" Dean was almost afraid to ask. The doctor sighed, clearly unhappy with the situation

"We were unable to reconnect the tendons in his wrist."

"What does that mean?" Dean hated feeling like an idiot sometimes.

"It means that he'll probably never have any use of his left hand again." The doctor stared at him. "Ever."

"You mean it's...paralized?" Dean tried to search the words for it and the doctor nodded.

"It will be unable to fuction again, most likely, so yes. That is a good way of putting it.

"Shit" Dean hissed, rubbing his hand through his hair again. "Goddamn it Sammy!"

The doctor flinched at that.

"It could have been worse," he told Dean gently. "He could have died. We were lucky."

"Yeah, and I'm gonna show him how lucky we are by kicking his ass!" Growled Dean and the doctor gave a soft laugh.

"I see that you care about your brother a lot."

Dean nodded.

"He's all I have," he said, shrugging. "I'd die for him."

The doctor had no idea how true that statement was. The doctor nodded.

"Good, because right now he's going to need your support. He's going to need someone to help him through this."

Dean nodded.

"When can he uh, you know? Go?"

"Well our policy for a suicide attempt is a 72 hour lockdown with a therapist talking to you. That's probably what's going to happen to your brother. And he's going to have to remain here longer for the other injuries. So, I honestly don't know."

Dean nodded. He couldn't stop swallowing.

"Can I see him?" He whispered, sounding like a scared kid. The doctor nodded.

"He might look different," he told him. "I know how scary it can be, seeing a loved one plugged up to the machines. But you have to remember that it's still Sam in there. It's still your brother."

Dean nodded and sighed while taking a deep breath.

"Take me to him, please," He begged and the doctor nodded and showed Dean the room where Sam was staying.

Slowly Dean walked in...

To be continued