Waiting was the worst. It was the one part everyone hated. But me? It was worse of all. All the what-if's kept running through my mind. I wish I could have changed everything. I wish I could have been there. I wish we weren't in the situation we were in...

XxXxXx

Glancing around the waiting room, I saw there wasn't a lot of people around. There was maybe three, four other people. Other than that, I was by myself instead of in a waiting room full of people. I preferred that. It meant I didn't have to control my emotions as hard as I needed to if people were in the room.

I glanced at the clock. It was already four in the morning. An hour and a half had passed since Sam first woke me up. I balled my fists again at the thought of failing Sammy. I felt my finger nails dig into the palm of my hand. I placed my balled fists on either side of my face. My elbows rested on my knees and I was staring at a square in-between my feet.

It took everything I had not to lose what little control on my emotions. Thinking about my little Sammy laying in the emergency room being poked at by doctors made me mad. I wanted to be the one patching him back up. But no, the doctors had to. If I couldn't patch him back up why couldn't I at least be by his side? It wasn't like I was going to hurt the doctors or anything.

Wait, I might just hurt the doctors depending on what they were doing to Sam. It was probably better that I was out here instead of back there with Sam. I would only prolong the help he needed.

XxXxXx

I felt my head bob down and realized that I had fallen asleep. I had somehow ended up leaning against the chair with my chin leaning against my chest and my arms crossed over my chest. I hadn't realized that I had shifted positions. I looked up at the clock and saw that it was five. Why hadn't I been called back for Sam? What was going on?

I stood up and looked around. There was only one other person in the waiting room. Everyone else had been taken care of but me. Why? It didn't seem very fair. I spotted a nurse standing at a counter. I walked over. "Um I was wondering if you could tell me how my brother is doing."

The nurse turned around. "Who's your brother?"

"Sam Matthews." I said remembering the last name Dad had told us to use.

The nurse looked through her clipboard. "I'm sorry but I'm not allowed to release any information until he's been put in a room."

"Has he at least been treated yet?"

"He's in the progress of being treated. That's all I can tell you. I'm sorry," The nurse gave me an apologetic smile. I nodded at her frustrated.

After she left, I went over to the pay phone. I pulled the number of the motel dad was staying at. I slid some coins into the pay slot. I looked at the number and dialed it. A reception person answered the phone. I asked to be directed to the room of John Matthews. The reception person directed my call to Dad's room. I listened to it ring. I hoped he would answer.

Like always, I was disappointed when he didn't answered. I heard some options and then wait to leave a message after the beep. The phone beeped and I talked rapidly into the phone.

"Dad, some things wrong with Sam. I'm at the hospital right now. I had to call an ambulance... Sam's not alright. I'm not sure what's wrong. They aren't telling me anything. I don't know what to do. So whatever you're doing, if you could get here...please. I need your help Dad." I said and for the first time, I felt tears well up in my eyes. I whipped them with the back of my hand. I needed to be strong. I couldn't let all the emotion to show now. No, I had to wait until I was somewhere more private.

I spotted a coffee machine that looked like you didn't need any money for it. When I was in front of it, I noticed you didn't. "Sweet," I muttered getting myself a cup of coffee. I sipped it feeling the caffeine course through me. I smiled. This was what I needed. I went to go sit back down and wait some more.

XxXxXx

"Dean Matthews?" My head shot up. Even though I was drinking coffee, I was still falling asleep. I bounced up nearly spilling the rest of the caffeinated drink in my hand.

"How is he?" I asked walking over to the doctor before could get anything else out.

"He's stable," The doctor smiled at me. "I'm assuming you're his brother?"

I nodded. "Yessir. Can I see him?" I asked anxiously.

"Of course, right this way. However, before you see him, I would like to talk about what's wrong with him." The doctor led Dean to a hallway and stopped a couple doors down from Sam's room. This was torture for Dean. He was so close to his brother yet to far away. "Sam is suffering from malnutrition and a lack of eating. There are also marks of cuts on his wrists. I'm not sure if that's from cutting himself or something else. They look like they were not self inflicted." I knew where they were from. The last case we had worked with Dad. Sam had gotten into a fight with a ghost dog. Of course, Sam had won but with minor casualties.

"What do you mean malnutrition?" I asked confused. "When he ate, he ate healthy. He always does."

"When he ate?" The doctor asked with his brow arched.

"Yes. He had been eating less and less over the last couple of weeks." I said confused at where the doctor was going with this.

The doctor nodded. "When Sam wakes up, I'm going to have him go to a consular. I think he was depressed but for right now, we don't know why."

I nodded hearing the doctor leave me. I slowly braced myself. I closed my eyes before rounding the corner into Sam's room.