Chapter 3

Getting up from the bed he had just laid down in Sam found himself confused, in all the years they had been on the road he couldn't remember getting a call from the phone in the seedy motel room. Picking it up he listened for a voice but found none, only static.

"Hello?" He asked it, waiting for an answer.

Hearing a distorted voice say the name John over and over again Sam put a finger to his furrowed brow "No uhh I think you have the wrong number, sorry." He said hanging up with a tiny scoff as he laid back down on the stiff mattress.

"Hmmm." He mumbled before falling asleep.

Walking back from the diner up the road Dean watched the light snow fall around him, making his hair damp and his nose cold and red. Getting back to the motel he unlocked the door placing the bags down on the round table, the bed room empty. "Sam?"

No answer. Looking around Dean frowned "Sam? Sammy?"

Knocking on the bathroom door he waited for an answer but no sounds were heard. "Sam I'm coming in." He said nearly knocking the door down, the wood bending in his wake.

His eyes looked down to find Sam on the floor, white as a ghost, wrists slashed open, the blood filling the cracks in the tiles. "Sammy! Shit, Sam what did you do?" He asked as he fell to his knees grabbing towels placing them around Sam's wrists. He desperately tried to wake him up. Next to Sam was a piece of broken glass.

"Come on Sammy… don't you leave me." He said smacking his face lightly as he grabbed his phone dialing for Cas.

"Cas! Cas I need you now…" He yelled into the phone, an echo bouncing off the walls.

Castiel appeared behind him, trench coat swishing behind him. "Yes?" He asked before his voice went silent finding Sam on the floor. "Did he do this to himself?"

Dean sat Sam up. "Looks that way, help me get him outta here Cas, he needs to get to a hospital now."

Bringing them to the hospital Dean got Sam taken care of sitting with Cas in the waiting room, hands at his face. "This is my fault."

Cas shook his head "I highly doubt that Dean… you have been as supportive as you can possibly be to him given the circumstances."

Dean sighed "I should have done more Cas, he needed me and I let him down."

Castiel was about to speak but a doctor approached them, a man hunched over with dark rimmed glasses that were too small for his face. "Mr. Slade?"

Dean looked up, his reflection visible in the doctor's clear thick glasses. "Yes sir? Is my brother alright? Can I seem him?" He asked, the questions pouring out. Looking over at Castiel, Dean was not surprised to find him gone.

The doctor spoke in a low voice, as if he were in a crowded library "Your brother is still unconscious but we have him hooked up to IV bags and we're getting blood for him right away, you can sit with him for a bit."

Dean thanked the doctor and found his way to the room they were keeping Sam in. Finding Sam unconscious and wrapped in the harsh bright white bedding he put his hands to his mouth making a defeated sound as he looked at his brother. He didn't know how but Sam looked so tiny and fragile in that bed, he couldn't remember a time where he thought Sam looked innocent but today was the day.

Pulling up a chair Dean grabbed a newspaper and looked through it, there were more violent deaths in the area. He waited for Sam to wake up, water ready and at arm's length.

Sam's eyelids fluttered as he began to wake. Trying to move his body he heard a pained groan in the air, the air that smelled like sickness and death and realized it was his own. Turning his head to the side he made out Dean's figure letting his eyes adjust, of course it was Dean, Dean eating a bowl of green jello.

"Dean…" He said softly.

Dean's eyes snapped open, wide as if surprised. Moving his chair closer to Sam he put his hand on his shoulder. "Sam, are you okay? Let me go get the doctor. Dude what were you thinking?"

Sam sat up in bed, body sore, arms immobilized by the iv tubes attached to him. "What, what do you mean?"

Dean pointed to his arms "The whole killing yourself thing, sorry to be blunt but that's what you did."

Sam shook his head "What? No… Dean something did this to me."

Dean cocked his head "Wait, what? The doctors said…"

"Yeah well the doctors were wrong, it, it felt like some kind of malevolent spirit or something. I was about to pee and then wham out of nowhere this thing pushed me to the floor, I hit my head on the counter and before I knew it, I was bleeding and unconscious, I still really have to pee."

Dean chuckled softly. "We'll figure this out Sam, we always do."

Sam looked up at his older brother with wonder "That's optimistic of you."

Dean shrugged "What can I say? The jello does wonders for the soul."

Deep down he felt nothing, Dean was good at acting and he knew it. He wished to god he could just say how he was feeling but he couldn't, Sam needed positivity.

"Dean?" Sam muttered.

"Yeah Sam?" Asked Dean handing him a glass of water to which he sipped slowly through a bendy straw.

"Before the attack, I got a phone call, at first I couldn't tell who was calling, the voice was distorted but it kept repeating the name John over and over, I could hardly get a word in." Sam said slowly as if he was thinking while he spoke.

"Yeah and?" Dean asked crossing his arms.

Sam sighed looking into his brother eyes "And after a little while the voice got less distorted, I could hear who it was."

Dean put his hands on his thighs and moved forward now more curious than he would care to admit. "Well who was it Sammy?"

Sam sighed biting his lip "It was… it was mom…."