Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

AN: Sorry for the delay in this chapter, I was travelling for work. Once again thank you to Soar, JuliaAurelia and Sinead-Conlan for all their help.

Dean awoke early the next morning, stretched and looked around the room, trying to get his bearings. He realized that he was in a hospital and just how badly he had screwed up the night before came rushing back, along with feelings of self loathing. He was glad to see that the IV was gone, but it was disconcerting to realize that the IV needle was still in the back of his hand.

He had to admit, though, that he felt much more human. His energy was back and he felt great. Now he just needed to get his release papers and get sprung from this hell hole. He reached over and pressed his call button to page a nurse or doctor. He hated the fact that nurses had been coming in all night, waking him to take blood and tell him to get some rest. How was he supposed to rest if they kept waking him up? Demons he got. People were just crazy.

"You rang," he heard a nurse address him a few minutes later.

"Can you get my discharge papers? I want to get out of here," Dean stated.

"The doctor wants to speak with you first, Mr. Colt," the nurse replied. "He'll be around later this morning."

"Well get the AMA forms then. I have things to do," Dean said impatiently.

"No, we'll wait for the doctor," a new voice from behind the nurse called out. Dean looked over her shoulder and saw his father and brother entering the room.

"Dad!" Dean protested.

"Sam, can you go to the cafeteria and grab us some coffee? I need to speak to your brother."

Sam instantly felt his temper flare, he really hated being dismissed. If if there was something going on, he wanted to be there. Not to mention the fact that he didn't trust his father not to get on Dean's case about what had happened the night before. Sam knew his brother and he had a feeling that Dean was beating himself up about it enough. John wouldn't do anything deliberately, but he often didn't think before he spoke and could easily make it worse. He also knew that it would do no good to protest. "Fine," he huffed and walked out of the room. The nurse followed.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I know I messed up last night, and you and Sam could have been killed. I promise, I'll make it up to you." Dean tried the old trick of apologising first.

"No, son, I'm the one who's sorry. Yes, you screwed up, there's no denying that. If you were sick, you should have said something, but you could have been killed too. I almost lost you and your brother after the car accident and if I had, I wouldn't have wanted to go on. I know I don't always show it, but you and your brother are my reason for getting up in the morning."

Dean turned his head to the side, unable to look his father in the face. "You could have lost Sam last night, dad, and it would have been my fault. How can you stand..."

"James Dean Winchester," John said firmly and tried to keep the grin that usually tried to break through whenever he said his son's full name. He usually avoided it for reasons like this. Mary could do it, but it was something he'd never been able to master. "I don't want to hear you put yourself down. When you make a mistake, you own up to it and you learn from it, understand?" he said firmly.

"Yes sir," Dean said as his hands suddenly became fascinating. "Now can we get out of here?"

"After the doctor checks you out," John replied.

"But dad," Dean immediately protested. "I think they're vampires. They were taking blood from me all freakin' night. You want to subject your son to that risk?"

"I'll take my chances," John said with a grin.

"Look, they even made it easier for them to get at me," Dean said and held up his hand with the IV needle in it. How long do I gotta be here?" Dean sulked.

"We'll see what the doctor says," John said trying to maintain his patience. Dean was never a good patient.

Sam returned and greeted his brother and Dean immediately tried his argument on Sam, who for once sided with their father. He wanted to make sure there was nothing seriously wrong with his brother. He'd spent some time on the internet, researching Dean's symptoms, and after a few hits, he'd shut the computer off, unable to read anymore. One of the common links was some type of blood cancer and Sam was not willing to admit that his brother could be that sick.

"Good morning all," a new voice greeted them.

"Morning, doc," Dean said. "You got my release papers?" he asked hopefully. John and Sam just shook their heads at Dean's one track mind.

"No, sorry," the doctor replied. "Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Dr. Greg Scott, the resident haematologist. Dr. Pickens called me to have a look at your initial blood work and I want to hold you here for a few more days to run some more tests. I just need you to sign this form," Dr. Scott said as he handed Dean a clipboard with a standard waiver form on it.

"No way," Dean snapped. "I feel fine. I just want to go home."

"Dean," John said trying to sound both gentle and firm at the same time. "Just sign it. The faster they do their tests, the faster you can go home, alright?"

"No," Dean snapped as he leant back on his pillow and threw the clip board on the bedside table. He knew he was just postponing the inevitable. Nobody ever listened to him anyway, so why should this be any different?

"Do you suspect anything?" Sam asked fishing for answers.

"It's really too soon to say anything," Dr. Scott said, giving the standard answer Sam had expected.

"I feel fine," Dean repeated. It was him they were talking about, why care that he didn't want these tests.

"That's from the transfusion," Dr. Scott explained. "We need to determine if your anaemia was caused by an underlying problem though, because if it was, then your symptoms are going to come back."

"I can refuse," Dean said and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It would be unwise, Mr. Colt," Dr. Scott cautioned.

John reached over and put a hand on Dean's arm. "Dean, don't be difficult, please. Let Dr. Scott do these tests. He wouldn't be recommending them if he didn't feel you needed them." He found himself wishing Dean were 17 rather than 27. If he was, they wouldn't be having this argument, John would have just signed the form.

"Let me talk to him for a minute," Sam said. He had a sure fire way to get Dean to sign the form, but he hated himself for resorting to it. He was going to try reasoning with his brother first, but if that didn't work, he was pulling out the big guns.

"Okay son," John agreed. He gestured to the doctor to follow him into the hallway.

"Okay Dean, why don't you want these tests? I know you hate hospitals, but..."

"You just answered your own question, Sammy," Dean interrupted.

"I know you, Dean, you're my brother so tell me what's going on," Sam asked.

"And if I don't?" Dean inquired.

"Then I'll just keep asking until you do," Sam said, reverting to little brother tactics, and then he turned his puppy dog eyes on his brother.

"Dad," Dean said softly. He could never resist the puppy dog eyes. They should be registered as lethal weapons.

"What about him?" Sam asked in surprise. That wasn't what he had been expecting.

"You, me and dad are together again. I don't know for how long and I don't want him to go away. If I'm laid up here, what's to stop him from going after the demon?"

The admission floored Sam and he berated himself for not thinking of it himself. The only wish Dean had in life was for the three of them to be a family again and after the crash, that wish had come true. Dean was terrified of something screwing that up.

"Dean, we are a family, no matter what," Sam said firmly. He was truly unsure of how to reply to Dean's statement because he honestly wasn't sure if their father would stick around. They were hunting for the demon, would his father give that up if Dean were here for any length of time? "Dad seems different since the crash," he offered.

"But you don't know, do you? You can't guarantee that he'll stay," Dean said sadly.

"No, Dean, I don't, but I'll be here. I promise you that, no matter what," Sam said sincerely, trying to give his brother some reassurance.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean replied.

"Now, will you sign the form," Sam asked.

"No," he said stubbornly.

Sam really wanted to smack his brother. It was time to bring out his secret weapon and he really hated himself for doing it, because it could do more harm than good. "You need these tests, Dean. How are you going to protect me and Dad if you can't even stay awake?"

Sam could see all the fight leave his brother as the words sunk in. The guilt hit him full force at the same time. He knew Dean was still upset with himself over what had happened. He watched as Dean angrily grabbed the clipboard and scribbled his name. Task completed, Dean slammed the board back on the table and rolled over onto his side, toward the wall.

"Sorry, Dean," Sam said softly as he went to the door to call his father back into the room.

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For the next three days, Dean was x-rayed, scanned, poked and prodded. Every inch of him was examined in some way, leaving him feeling like a bug under a microscope. He'd also had numerous blood tests, leaving him feeling like a pin cushion. This, of course, caused Dean to become crankier and more uncooperative by the day.

He nearly blew a gasket when they came and told him that the results were inconclusive and that they wanted to perform a bone marrow biopsy, wondering why the hell they had put him through all that, and couldn't have just done the biopsy from the start? When the doctor explained that they wanted to stick a needle into his hip bone and look at some of his bone marrow, he put his foot down. No way were they doing that to him, they had done enough. This led to an argument between the three Winchesters and left Dean wondering exactly how he had come to be lying on a gurney in an examination room, waiting for the doctor to start torturing him. At least his dad was with him. It was the only way Dean would agree to sign the consent form.

"Okay, Dean, what I need you to do is roll over onto your side with your back facing me and curl your legs up chest. "Mr. Colt, if you want to stay up by his head, that's fine."

Dean wanted to protest, but he knew it would do no good, so he rolled over and did as the doctor had asked.

John watched his son and it was a testament to just how nervous his eldest was feeling when he failed to make a comment about the fact that he was literally mooning the doctor and a good looking nurse. He took Dean's hands in his own and tried to offer some silent comfort to his son.

Dr. Scott draped a sheet over Dean that covered him, but had a small opening on his hip where the doctor would insert the needle. "Alright, Dean, I have to clean the area, so this may feel a little cold," he explained.

Dean flinched slightly as he felt the doctor rub an alcohol pad over the spot. A little cold, yeah right, where did they store that stuff, Antarctica?

"Now, what I'm going to do is numb the area with some lidocaine. What you're going to feel is a sharp prick and a burning sensation," Dr. Scott explained.

Again, John watched as the doctor injected the medicine into Dean's hip. He saw his son scrunch up his face a couple of times, but John knew that Dean was used to lidocaine. He'd had stitches numerous times before, it was something you got used to as a hunter.

After about 10 minutes, when Dean was good and numb, the doctor continued. "Now, what we're going to do is insert the aspiration needle into your hip bone. What you're going to feel is pressure more than pain. This is going to be uncomfortable though," Dr. Scott explained the next step of the procedure.

John couldn't help but glance at what the doctor was doing. He saw the doctor holding a large needle, pressing it into Dean's hip with a lot of force. John knew that it had to go right into the bone itself. He looked over at Dean again. Dean gave a couple of small grunts, but he didn't seem to be in a tremendous about of pain, for which John was thankful.

"Okay, for the last part, we have to draw out the marrow. Unfortunately, we can't freeze this part of the bone, so this will hurt, Dean. It's okay to shout, or scream, but I need you to stay as still as possible, okay?"

Dean nodded his consent. He looked at his father, trying not to glance at the needle. He knew that if he saw it, he was going to freak out.

"Alright, Dean, here goes," Dr. Scott said as he pulled back on the needle to draw out some marrow.

Dean tried to brace himself for the pain, but he couldn't ever have prepared himself for what he felt. It was excruciating and he was doing all could, fighting every instinct he had, to pull away. He guessed he wasn't doing a very good job when the nurse hollered, "Dean, stay still!" He felt the grip of the nurse and his father tighten on him, holding him in place.

"Easy, Dean," John said, trying to sooth his son.

"Dad, make them stop," Dean said, almost begging. Then to his embarrassment, he felt his eyes well up with tears and despite his best efforts to keep them at bay, he felt a few leak out anyway.

"It's almost done," John said, hoping it was true and hating himself for not being able to take away his son's discomfort. He had no idea if the doctor was almost done or not.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was actually only about 20 seconds, the doctor finally announced, "All done."

Dr. Scott left shortly afterward, saying he needed to get Dean's sample to the lab. The nurse cleaned the area and then bandaged the puncture site, adding a warning for Dean to try and lie still for a bit to prevent bleeding at the puncture site.

"Dad," Dean said to his father as he swiped angrily at his eyes, trying to pretend he hadn't cried.

"Yeah, buddy?" John said using Dean's childhood nickname. He knew he had to ignore the tears although he hated himself for it. He wanted to say something that would offer Dean any type of comfort, but he had no idea how.

"They're not doing that again. Never again. I don't care what's wrong," Dean said weakly.

John wished that he could promise Dean that it wouldn't happen again, but he knew that he couldn't, so he did what Winchesters always do when they don't want to deal with something, they change the subject. "Close your eyes and get some rest. I promise I'll be here when you wake up.

"Kay," Dean said and drifted off to sleep.

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A couple of hours later, back in Dean's room, John and Sam were sitting with him, waiting for the doctor. Dean was trying to stay as still as possible, but he really wanted to shift positions to try and make himself more comfortable. His hip was sore from where the doctor had to drive the needle into it, but he had refused the pain medication the nurse had offered. Why Dean felt he had to be in pain, John would never understand, and guessed that on some level, Dean was punishing himself for his screw up in the cemetery. They all looked up when someone entered the room.

"I have Dean's results," Dr. Scott announced solemnly.

A/N: I did Google bone marrow biopsies and found several sites detailing the procedure, but I couldn't really find any accounts of how one feels. I just think from the description it sounds painful. So, if anyone here is familiar with them I hope you'll forgive any glaring inaccuracies.

Please remember to feed the muse and review. I am still not to proud to beg if I have to.