Now this chapter has been a pain to write… Not because I don't like writing, and definitely not because I don't appreciate your guys' reviews… Because I really, really do!

This chapter has been a pain because, number one I had competition yesterday; in which I won a Silver Medal in Literature and Language… and that was a very stressing day indeed. Number two I have writers block, but it's just a little one, though it did take a while to get through it. Number three… I had such a hard time with reactions in this chapter…

Now with that said, I bowled over the writer's block, and I wrote the reactions, because I love you guys and this story… By the way, this chapter is dedicated to funkyspunk, because I love her reviews and the name is just so peculiar, it makes me cock my head and wonder what they were thinking when they made it every time I see it.

Song is 'Unknown Soldier' by Breaking Benjamin…

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'Full of fear,
Ever clear.
I'll be here,
Fighting forever.
Curious,
Venomous,
You'll find me
Climbing to heaven.
Never mind,
Turn back time.
You'll be fine - I will get left behind.'

"Why hasn't anyone come down yet?" Dean asked, frustrated. He had stayed in his father's arms for only a few short moments after Sam's doctor had left; and then he had been up and pacing the waiting room again. His fears and guilt for Sam had taken over, and no matter how many soft words or harsh orders he was issued, Dean couldn't sit still.

"Dean," John said with a sigh as he watched his oldest son pace. When Dean didn't so much as look at him, John growled and stood up. Grabbing Dean's arms, to stop his son, John made Dean look at him. "Dean, stop this!" The words and the tone were out of his mouth before he even had the chance to stop them, and John froze, as he watched Dean's eyes widen.

"Sorry," the reply was so low, and John wouldn't have heard it if it hadn't been for his hunting skills.

Lowering and softening his voice John said, " It's okay to feel overwhelmed, and scared, hell we all are. But Dean you can't keep blaming yourself, and all of your pacing isn't going to help anything." Dean nodded, knowing his father was telling the truth.

John released Dean's arms, and the young man reached one of his newly freed arms up to scrub his face. With a heavy sigh, Dean went to sit down in the chair beside John's. Before he even reached the chair, the sound of footsteps came down the hall. Dean's head snapped up, and John sighed, hoping that whoever was coming was going to tell them that it was okay to see Sam.

"Family of Samuel Winchester?" The man asked as he walked up.

"It's Sam." Dean and Caleb corrected at the same time, not liking the attitude of the man standing in front of them one bit. The man looked like he cared more about his hair than the life of a seventeen year old boy. Dean's baby brother.

John and Jim must have sensed the hostility the other two felt, and though they didn't like the man either, they weren't about to let the two younger hunters get themselves in trouble for doing something stupid. Both stepped back, placing a hand on each of the young hunter's shoulders.

"Fine, Sam then." The man's voice held spite and Dean growled low in his throat.

"Dean." John said simply, warningly; hoping that his son wouldn't do something he would regret. Breaking the doctor's face might seem like a god idea now, but later when Dean found himself kicked out of the hospital and unable to see Sam, he would regret the action.

John couldn't help but to be proud of Dean though. The bond his sons shared was strong, and unbreakable, no matter how hard either of them pushed, it would bend but never break. Just seeing Dean protecting Sammy when the youngest Winchester couldn't do it himself made John's heart swell.

He had done a good job with them.

"Sam has been moved to a room in the ICU and is being allowed two visitors at a time. Okay?" Dean would have been just fine if the man hadn't added that last little sarcastic word. As it was, he tried to launch himself at the man in front of him. John held his son back, though he did growl at the man, and his look was murderous.

When he was sure Dean wasn't going to launch himself at the man, John walked up to the man, his expression turning eerily calm. As he spoke his tone was soft, though his words displayed a blatant threat.

"Don't you ever, and I do mean ever, talk to my son like that. He has a right to be upset, though you have no reason, other than the obvious stick shoved up your ass. If you keep up this behavior you will have my boot added to that stick." The man shivered as John talked, and he looked as if he was about to piss his pants. "Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes sir!" The man replied.

"Good. Now please remove yourself from my presence." John said, and added a malicious smile, that told the man there would be trouble if he didn't do what he was told, and do it quickly. The man nodded jerkily and skittered away from the angry Winchester.

Saying nothing, John headed toward the ICU. Caleb, Dean and Jim followed closely behind him, Caleb looked confused, but Dean and Jim were grinning like idiots. And John… John looked grimly pleased with himself.

XXXXXX

Dean and John walked into Sam's room, after having found out from the nurse which room it was. John kept his gaze facing the floor, not wanting to see Sam until he had somewhere to sit incase the shock of seeing his youngest so hurt, sent him to his knees.

Dean walked to Sam's side and gasped quietly at the sight of his usually strong brother looking so… broken. Sam's head was bandaged, with a tube coming out of the mass of bandages. A tube jutted from Sam's mouth, a holder hooked into Sam's mouth and strapped around his head, holding the tube in place. Another tube ran up into his nose, and it was taped to the side of his face, near his ear; Dean assumed it was taped to keep it out of the way.

There were wires attached to his temples, and running under the neck of his gown. IV's ran piggybacked into his left hand, one giving him blood and the other giving him antibiotics and other medication. But overall what got to Dean most was the pallor of his brother's skin, he was such a sickly white.

Dean sat down before he fell down, and grabbed Sam's hand, pulling it to his chest, unconsciously rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of Sam's cool hand. Tears clouded his vision, and Dean wasn't ashamed of them at all. His brother was sick, broken, battered… dying?

John finally looked up at Dean's almost inaudible gasp, and watched as Dean's face drained of its color, and it was then he knew Sam looked bad. Without even looking at his youngest, he knew this; Dean's expression told him this.

Looking down at his youngest, John wanted to cry. All the wires, the monitors, tubes, the bandages… Sam looked so small, laying so still and pale in the bed. John didn't bother to wipe his face as he felt the tear drip down it, his son was hurt, maybe dying; and John really didn't care about anything else at the moment.

Gently taking his youngest son's hand, John sat down. He pulled the lax hand to his mouth and kissed it, not caring who saw this display of affection. He leaned over and placed his other hand on Sam's chest, needing to feel his heart beating.

John pulled his chair closer, and laid his head on Sam's arm, closing his eyes, and prayed for Sam to get better.

XXXXX

So I know it was late in coming, but I did promise an update today, so here it is.

Hope you liked it. Please review, and take care.

OSS