Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has had the patience to stay with me on this fic. I sincerely apologize for the extended break between chapters. I am now back on track and updating regularly.

Thank you to everyone who sent their well wishes after I injured my hand and especially to ziggy.uk who prodded me back to writing.

Well, I hope I haven't forgotten the plot, here goes…

Chapter Seven

Dean looked down at his blood stained hands and mentally hardened himself against Sam's pleading voice. He knew things had been a little strained between Sam and himself recently, but now wasn't the time to mend that bond. If Sam was so desperate to grow up, to be independent, then he needed to start accepting some responsibility and this included dealing with consequences that he would rather avoid. Their dad finding out about Sam's neighborhood run-in seemed to be inconsequential in the bigger scheme of things, and he didn't understand how Sam couldn't see this. A bleeding wound trumped parental chastisement every time.

One look at Sam and their dad would know something was up. Pale skin glistened with the fine sheen of fever and pain was clearly etched on his face. A single glance and their Dad would know Sam wasn't well. A few pointed questions and Sam would crumple under their dad's glare, spilling the beans despite his best intentions to the contrary.

"We'll go to the clinic a few blocks over."

"Dean …please."

"Sam, do you trust me?" Dean looked intently at his younger brother, maintaining eye contact as he asked the question, a small sliver of fear in the back of his heart that he mightn't get the answer he was anticipating.

"Yeah, you know I do." Sam didn't falter in his immediate response.

As relief flowed through him, Dean released the deep breath he hadn't been aware he was holding until the answer spilled from his brother's lips.

"Sam, trust me on this …I need to get you to a doctor."

Tired of fighting, tired of the pain, Sam saw little point in continuing to be defiant. Above all else, he trusted his brother to do what he thought was right. What was necessary. He nodded his agreement, unable to give a verbal answer as a sharp shaft of pain tore through his body. Clenching the bed covers in his white knuckled fist, he fought another wave of nausea as he half-heartedly listened to his brother rattle off instructions. Dean's voice faded in and out, and he really couldn't get a grasp on what he was saying, but he nodded anyway, giving Dean complete trust to take care of everything. He let his eyelids slip to half-mast as he no longer felt any compulsion to keep up the charade and could submit to his body's desire to sleep.

"Sam …Sam …Sammy!"

His brother calling his name registered on his subconscious and Sam nodded automatically in reply, too tired to give any other response.

Too nauseous to risk opening his mouth.

Too dizzy to fully open his eyes.

"Sam, you with me here?" Dean gently shook his brother's arm trying to rouse him.

Sam groaned in response, trying to shrink further into the welcoming comfort of the bed.

"Sam!" Dean fought down the panic as he demanded a coherent response from his brother.

"Dean…" Sam tried to focus on his brother's face "…don't feel so good." He swallowed back the saliva pooling in his mouth and closed his eyes again as the spinning room only increased the feeling of nausea that refused to abate.

"Sam, look at me …open your eyes."

Sam opened his eyes to mere slits and looked in the direction of his brother's voice.

"I need you to stay awake …just a little bit longer …okay?"

"…'kay." He mumbled, feeling the shift on the edge of the mattress as Dean moved away from the bed.

Dean raced to the bathroom and grabbed another towel to use as a makeshift bandage. He hated to leave his brother like this even for a moment, but he needed a dry towel to keep pressure on the wound on the way to the clinic.

Sam concentrated on following Dean's instruction. His eyes felt so heavy but he kept them open through sheer force of will. Every time they threatened to slip closed he jerked himself awake and made sure they stayed open. Although still reluctant to go to the clinic, at this point he'd do anything to lessen the nausea threatening again to spill and the pain that caused his whole body to tremble.

As the bile rose in his throat his eyes closed instinctively. It was as if his body couldn't cope with the sensory overload and determined his vision to be non essential at this time. Sam knew this time he wouldn't be able to stave off the vomit as his stomach muscles clenched in anticipation of expelling what little contents still remained in his stomach.

He willed his body to move, to rise off the bed and reach the bathroom before the nausea hit, but all he could manage was to move his head weakly to the side.

Although he expected it, he gagged as the bile rose swiftly up his throat as if taking him by surprise. He spluttered as the first mouthful of acid bile spilled onto the sheets and he tried to move away from the warm puddle. His body heaved again and he lost the energy to move as his body was overcome with the desperate need vomit up everything he'd ever eaten.

He choked as he tried to shift his head but he had nowhere to move to as the rancid remains of his stomach contents pooled around his mouth, soaking into the thin bed sheets. He struggled to catch his breath as the vomit clogged his throat, the feeling making him gag again and again as he struggled to draw in air.

Dean raced back into the bedroom, towel clasped tightly in his hand. One glance at his brother and he sped towards the bed, skidding to a stop when he reached his brother's side.

"Shit" he muttered as he lent down next to the bed and pulled Sam across the bed and closer to the edge so that his head was over the edge of the mattress, face towards the floor. "Come on, just breathe" he coaxed as Sam continued to gag.

Sam opened his eyes and looked at his brother in desperation, needing to convey his need.

"Its okay Sammy, I gotcha." Dean whispered.

The firm thump between his shoulder blades helped him clear he last of the vomit from his mouth. He spat on the floor as he tried to clear his mouth of the rancid taste, his breathing now more under control. He didn't have the strength to shift further back onto the bed so instead he relaxed into Dean's grasp, letting his brother take some of his weight. Black spots danced around his peripheral vision and he closed his eyes again, welcoming the blackness that beckoned him. He heard his brother calling his name but couldn't respond, instead falling into the bliss of unconsciousness.

Dean gave Sam's shoulders a gentle shake but it elicited no response. Easing Sam to lie back flat on the bed he took in his lax features and realized that he'd be getting no reply. The panic that had hit him on re-entering the room upped a notch but he fought it down, knowing that panic wouldn't help. He took a deep breath, letting the years of training with his father take over. Only the slight tremble in his hands betrayed his outward calm.

Not trusting himself to carry Sam to the car he did the only other thing he could. He pulled his phone from his pocket and called for an ambulance.

oooOOOooo

The blur of the ambulance ride was quickly replaced by the hive of activity that surrounded them as soon as they entered the hospital. Sam remained still and unresponsive on the gurney, leaving it up to Dean to answer the questions of the medical staff as he hovered by Sam's side, needing to keep his brother close.

As the clothes were stripped from his brother's pale frame he finally realized how extensive the bruising was that covered Sam's shoulders, chest, sides and back. It looked as through Sam had come off second best after a run in with a truck. How he'd managed to get through nearly a full day of school was beyond Dean's comprehension.

As the medical staff completed their questioning his presence in the room quickly shifted to that of a hindrance and he fought a losing battle to remain by his brother's side. A stocky nurse escorted him from the room and it was only his desire to see that Sam got one hundred percent of the staff's attention that made him see reason and leave the room without causing more of a scene. If the frantic sounding conversation between the doctors was anything to judge by, Sam needed all the help he could get. With the promise that someone would update him on Sam's condition soon, he slumped into the closest chair in the small waiting room and rested his head in his hands. No stranger to hospital waiting rooms, he knew he could be in for quite a wait and that there was little he could do to speed things up.

oooOOOooo

One tense phone call to his father and two barely palatable cups of coffee later and Dean was no closer to any news on Sam's condition. Fingering the change in his pocket, he was just considering the merits of a third cup of coffee when he saw his father's commanding figure stride through the doors. He saw his father glance around the room, seeking, before making eye contact and moving purposefully in his direction.

Dean stood up as his father approached, feeling a little of the burden shift from his shoulders. His father was so strong, dominant, his mere presence in the room made it feel as if a small measure of control was back in their court. His dad the hero, he grimaced at the analogy, yet at the same time needing it to be true.

"Dad…" The single uttered word held so much meaning, so much hope.

"Dean …"

A firm hand clasped his shoulder and he sunk back down onto the chair, his father taking the seat by his side. Dean briefly filled his dad in on the details he'd skipped over on the phone, his eyes flitting between his dad and the door, hoping that there'd be news soon.

Conversation soon lapsed into tense silence as both Winchesters waited impatiently for an update on Sam's condition. They took it in turns pacing the floor, periodically going to the nurses' station and asking for news on Sam, only to get the same rehearsed non-committal reply.

Ironically, when a weary doctor stood in the doorway and called for the family of Sam Winchester it took them both a moment to jolt into action. When the doctor's words finally penetrated, they nearly tripped over each other in their haste to make their presence known.

To be continued...

oooOOOooo

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