Disclaimer:Don't own the boys or their story, but I wish I did! Lol

Thanks: Special thanks to eggylaine, techa4ever, BlueDragon007, Thorny Hedge, jillbeth954, and bylvie for reviewing my last chapter!


Chapter Four
Talking To Himself

Sam Winchester continued wondering about his life. 'What exactly did I do wrong to not be able to go to heaven? Pastor Jim told me one night when I was upset about not knowing my Mom that when it was finally my time when I was an old man, I would see her again in heaven. But now I'm dead, and she's not here!' Sam turned in frustration, as if in sleeping, but really only floating in darkness. "If this is Hell, then, well, this just sucks!" He yelled into the hollow darkness.

"Talking to yourself is a bad habit to get into," A voice echoed back.

Sam tensed. "Wh-who's there?" he asked back, afraid. If he was in Hell, he'd rather be alone then with someone stranger.

"You," The voice answered, as the mysterious person came into a full view image. It was a younger man, about 22 years of age. He had sloppy brown hair that hung in his face, he was tall and lanky, and his green eyes seemed to smile down at Sam, but his face very serious.

Sam stayed where he was; cuddled in the corner of his Hell and ignored the man's strange response.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," The man said, his serious face turning more friendly.

"Who are you?" Sam asked more sternly.

"I already answered that." The man replied.

"Yeah, well who is 'you?'"

The man sighed. "'You' is you. I am you Sam. The future you,"

Sam stared at this 'future him' in shock. Though he did resemble Sam in many ways he couldn't believe it and denied it immediately. "I'm dead! I have not future!" He screamed.

"We're not dead, yet," The older Sam replied.

"What?" The younger Sam asked in shock, his voice weak.

"We're only in a coma. If we we're dead, then we would be with Mom,"

"So I'm not dead? Then where am I? How come there's nothing in here?!"

"Well it's our head. As Dean would probably say, 'There's nothing in there cause your head is empty dude!'" The older Sam replied with a perfect expression of Dean.

Both Sam's chuckled, but then went silent again.

"What do I do now?" The younger Sam broke the silence.

"You need to wake up to start with. Then you have to move your toes," The older Sam explained.

"Move my toes? What's wrong with me?"

"Well I don't know everything but I think we we're in an accident."

Sam remembered the accident perfectly; the tension between him and his father and Dean sticking up for him. He even remembers waking up in the car and screaming from the pain, and Dean crying for him to calm down. That was where he thought he died and it was over.

The older Sam continued. "We cracked our skull open for one. We also have a fractured spine. That's why we need to move our toes when we wake up! We really should have listened to Dean when he told us to put our seatbelt on, ya know." The older Sam's face was serious again, but Sammy's puppy dog eyes were working perfectly and even young Sam was fooled.

"I'll do my best, but how do I wake up?" The younger Sam urged.

"Well don't keep thinking we're dead for one. And I think we just need to keep our mind working, ya know?" The older Sam paused and looked back at younger Sam. "I have an idea. Run through our math homework in our head and keep praying for Dean to help, and we should wake up. Please, don't just do it for us, do it for Dad and Dean. They need us, they need you." The older Sam told younger Sam and then disappeared.

"Wait!" Young Sam yelled out into the darkness, but he was gone. "Math and Dean. 58x+1594=4! Is the same thing as 58x=-1570. true or false?"


John walked into the hospital room, three different pill prescriptions under his arm, two bottled waters in his hands and one sad look on his face. He shut the door softly, trying not to disturb Dean, who sat slouched over in his wheelchair leaning and sleeping against Sam's bed. John sat down in his usual chair on the other side of Sam's bed and put the waters down on the stand. He fumbled with the tubes and then he leaned over the bed and tapped Dean's hand.

"Dean?" John said gently to wake his son, who hasn't left Sam's side since yesterday when they first got to see Sam.

Dean slowly woke up and sat up in his chair, his hand not loosening its grip on Sam's. "What is it Dad?" He stifled a yawn and rubbed his face with his free hand trying to become fully awake.

"Got some more drugs for ya," John replied, handing over two of the bottles to Dean. "Take the blue ones every four hours unless you're not in pain and the white ones once everyday. It's a little harder keeping you in good health when you won't return to your bed," John glared at his son sarcastically then looked down at his own pills that the doctor gave him to fight the small infection he got in his arm.

"Dad, you know I can't leave Sammy alone." Dean argued back.

"You know I'll be right here when he wakes," John growled back, his temper already flaring at his intolerable son.

"Yeah Dad, I know, but you know Sam will flip if he doesn't see me by his side when he does wake."

"I know Dean," John sighed, backing down from the fight that was only just being brought up again.

Dean somehow found a way to open the bottles with one hand and set them down on his lap. His neck had been killing him and sleeping hunched over last night wasn't the best idea he ever had. The nurses offered to put a cot up but he refused to even be a few feet away from Sam and even though he didn't regret denying the bed, he wished he would have found a better situation.

Dean took one of both pills and checked the time. 5:47 PM. 'Wow, I slept for ever' he thought to himself. But he did have an excuse. He didn't even want to sleep at all but then his father commanded him to sleep at around 7 o'clock this morning. He just didn't want Sam to feel like he failed him, again. Dean looked around for something to wash the pills down and his dad handed him the bottled water. Dean mumbled a thanks and washed down the pills in a hurry.

John looked down at Sam who looked the same as he has been for the how many hours he's been in and out of his room, sometimes getting coffee, other times talking to the doctors and insurence companys. Sam's hair was still pushed back from when he rubbed it last night and his face still as white as a ghost and the tube down his throat still breathing for his son. The doctors are hoping to be able to remove the tube in a few days, thinking Sam will improve. But there are no signs yet that he will come out of it soon. John tried his best to watch for the smallest twitch of a hand, but he saw that Dean was looking for a smallest flinch of his eyebrow. Though John was tired of Dean's stubbornness, he was also proud of his eldest. Though not as much as he should, he was admitting he was in pain, just so he can get the help he needed but remaining with Sam and not getting 'bored' with just sitting here. John rarely picked up conversation and when he did Dean's eyes never left Sam and his hand never left his brothers.

John, lost in thought, hadn't even seen the tears form in Dean's eyes. Dean's mind was like a broken VCR and it was replaying the accident over and over in his head. If he had just kept his mouth shut, then maybe John would have seen the car. Or maybe Sam would have sat up to fight back on his own and his head might not have connected with the window like that. And even maybe if he hadn't yelled at Sam for fighting with Dad again, he may have listened to him and put his seat belt on instead of ignoring him in his little silent treatment. There was so much Dean could have done differently. He couldn't bring himself to the realization that it all did happen and there nothing he could do. All he could do was always be by Sam's side if he wakes up, and think about the what ifs, and maybes.

~D~S~

At around 7:20 John heard Dean's stomach growl with determination and John knew he had to bring the eating thing up again. He had told Dean several times today that he needed to eat something, but he refused it. "I won't eat a damn thing until I absolutely need to. If Sammy can get trapped under a collapsed barn for three days without food or water, then that's at least how far I can go!" Dean had argued, using that one horrible hunt that occurred only one year earlier in Pennsylvania.

But now to John, that year seemed so far ago. Only a year ago, despite that horrible earthquake that had brought down a whole barn on Sam and had him unreachable for three day, times were ok. Sam barely argued or talked back and he was only starting to disagree with John and surely wasn't using his teenager attitude yet even though it was skimming the surface. And the thought finally came down on John. Now, his Sammy couldn't argue back to him. His baby boy--- no, Mary's little boy couldn't do anything. Nothing but lay there and wake up, if he ever does.

Earlier, John had gone out to get some coffee and he over heard Sam's doctor talking to a surgeon about Sam's case and they had said that if he didn't wake up in the next week they were going to suggest pulling the plug. But that didn't falter John. He knew there were possibilities that Sam wouldn't wake up, but he knew Sam wouldn't leave Dean like this. It's just in Sam's nature that if he knew Dean was hurt, he would do all he could to come back and make sure he was ok and healthy.

That simple thought made John go back to a memory one Christmas when Dean was the simple age of 14 and Sam was 10. It was the first Christmas John had actually spent with his boys since they started assisting on his hunts and that Christmas hunt had gone horribly wrong and wonderfully great.

Start of Flashback:

"Dean!" John heard Sam scream and the little boys fearful voice had echoed through the entire mountain. John quickly darted to where he left his boys to keep watch and just before he made it through the trees there was a gun shot. But what he found made him want to fall to his kness right there. Dean lie lifeless on his side, blood pooling out of his shoulder. Sam ran up to his brother, throwing a recently shot off gun to the side as he knelt down beside him.

"Dean?" John yelled, racing towards his boys. He knelt down next to Sam and immediately began to put pressure on the deep slash on his arm. John noticed that Dean didn't stir against the pressure and looked over and found him unconscious. Hopefully from the pain or shock, and not a hit to the head. As John continued putting pressure on the scrape, he asked, "Sammy? What happened?"

"The b-black dog. I-it a-t-tacked De," Little Sam stuttered, trying to stay as calm as he could for his big brother, but tears were easily flowing down the boys rosy cheeks.

"Which way did it get away to Sam?" John asked, still concerned about the hunt.

"I-it d-didn't. I-I shot it." Sam said, pointing just a few feet in front of them.

And to John's surprise, there it was. John stared dumbfounded at the dead black dog shot down just a few feet away from where Dean was attacked.

"You shot it?" John asked his youngest, still shocked.

Sam only nodded as he continued to look down at his brother.

"Well done, son." John quickly congratulated his son who he was truly proud of at that moment. And if this was any other moment and Dean was ok, Sammy too would be bouncing off the walls, proud of himself. But right now Sam's only concern was Dean right now and John had to push himself to stay focused.

"Is 'De going to be ok Dad?" Sam asked, taking Dean's cold hand in his.

"Yes son, of course. We just have to get him back to the motel and get him cleaned up," John reassured his youngest and gently lifted Dean up in his arms pressing his shoulder tightly to his chest trying to stop the bleeding that surprisingly continued to flow.

Sam insistently didn't let go of Dean's hand the whole way back to the hotel. He even twisted his way through his father's tangled arms as he laid Dean in the back seat. Sam kept telling John that him holding his hand was helping Dean in some way and if he let go Dean wouldn't know that Sam was with him and he'll be sad. It was amazing to John that Sam could even think that way for Dean, who John knew would be more then happy to feel Sam's hand in his when he awoke.

When the small family of hunters made it back to the hotel, Sam's hand was still locked with Dean's, and John was starting to disinfect the cut when Dean awoke with a gasp at the first splash of holy water.

John placed his free hand on Dean's other shoulder to keep him down. "Son, calm down!" He yelled but they only seamed to make Dean worry more.

"Wh-" He was trying to say 'What happened' but the 'Wh' was the only thing he could manage to slur out.

John was about explain the situation and tell him to relax, but Sam cut in.

"Dean, guess what!?" Little Sam leaned over his brother with excitement, sniffling back his tears and Dean looked up at his brother in confusion.

Though all Dean wanted to do was cry and run away from the pain, he was glad to hear Sam's chipper voice and though sad, but happy face. "W-what?" Dean sputtered out.

"I shot it! I shot my first black dog! My first scary thing ever!" Sam told his brother with a proud grin on his face.

Dean smiled up at his little brother, letting the pain ease out of his mind. "That's great Sammy," Dean smiled.

"Yeah, it was amazing. I was scared of course but I just aimed and fired and I got him!" Sam continued to ramble about his wonderful shot and John took the opportunity.

He quickly splashed the holy water into the gash and Dean's face scrunched up in pain. Sam stopped his ramble quickly but then continued and held Dean's hand tighter as Dean pushed through the pain to listen and Sam knew that he was helping his brother.

John then stopped the bleeding and began stitching up the cuts as Sam continued with his story almost completely distracting Dean from the pain.

Even through all this Sam never let go of Deans hand and he fell asleep next to Dean on his bed and didn't let go of his hand until the next morning. Though John completely ignored it, and Dean only admired it, Sam was convinced that holding Dean's hand made every problem go away.

End of Flashback

John looked over at Dean's hand, sternly clasped around Sam's and a shred remorse fell over him.

He thought about that regret as he went out into the hallway and went to get Dean's food to bring to him. He thought, maybe for them, it really does make every problem go away.

A/N: 1.) Like it? Hate it?
 2.) Favorite part? Least favorite part?
3.) What would you like to see happen next?
Please Review!

So there my next chapter! Sorry for the late update, I went on a camping trip, but while I was there I got some great ideas for this story that I am excited to wrtie for you! Thanks for reading my story and hopefully reviewing too! Miss Dassy