Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural or whatnot, it is all property of the CW11 network. So don't sue and please don't be offended by the language cause it's gonna be colorful to say the least.

Chapter 7

Confusion and dull, throbbing pain were the first things that registered in Sam Winchester's muddled, freshly free of a coma mind.

" Mmmm..."

Another soft moan escaped Sam as he abruptly squinted the eyes he'd just opened moments ago, shut. The light and the white walls were overwhelmingly too bright for eyes that had not seen anything in weeks.

" Oh God, where am I?" Thought Sam as he waited for the twinging sensation in the backs of his eyeballs to cease.

Breathing deep though his nostrils. Sam slowly reopened his eyes, giving them time to adjust. When it was no longer painful, Sam's eyes and other senses began to take in his surrounds.

Whites walls, sterile smell, scratchy sheets and comforter covering him.

" I'm in a hospital." Realized Sam as he continued to look around, memories of recently passed events dimly flashing through his slightly atrophied mind.

Even after all the trauma to his head, Sam could remember the key details.

The nightmare that had been a vision of Dean's death by electrocution in a dingy basement.

Roosevelt Asylum and the disaster that had unfolded between him and Dean that happened a few days after the dream.

Dean's eyes filled with hurt and anger as he climbed into the Impala and drove away into the night.

A very ugly and hungry Rawhead and the faces of two terrified children.

A burning hot feeling of blinding agony throughout his whole body and then sinking into a murky darkness.

And waking up now.

" I'm not Dead." Thought Sam before he tried to move.

He instantly regretted the action as his entire left side from the waist up came alive with a twinging pain.

With a small gasp, Sam lay still and breathed deep as he rode out the waves of pain crashing over him without mercy.

When the pain finally dissipated to a dull throb, exhaustion began to creep into the weakened young man.

Sam's eyes began to feel heavier and heavier as sleep tugged at them.

With a soft sigh, Sam let his eyes slowly fall shut and gave in to his body's desires for rest.

A final thought passed through Sam's sleepy mind before consciousness peacefully slipped away, though it didn't go so far as it had gone when he was in a could easily return to Sam with no problem this time.

" I wish Dean was here."

But in Sam's mind, Dean was probably off on the hunt their father had sent them on via cellphone, totally oblivious to everything that had transpired with the Rawhead and was probably still angry at him for what happened at Roosevelt Asylum and then that night on the deserted road where they'd argued and he'd hurt Dean again by leaving him.

Even if it was all a trick to save his big brother's life.

The last image that passed through Sam's coherent mind was of the way Dean's face had been filled with a mixture of fury and dull hurt before he'd climbed into the Impala and driven away into the night.

Meanwhile, at the diner across the street from the hospital..

An oblivious Dean Winchester sat at the counter, waiting for the meal he'd ordered with melancholy written into every line of his being.

A sigh escaped him.

God things were so messed up.

His baby brother was hurt so bad, he was in a coma that had lasted for weeks now.

Weeks.

And Dean had a sinking feeling that when he returned to the hospital, Sam would still be laying there on the bed in the same position his big brother had left him.

What made it even worse was that there was nothing Dean could do, no magical way to bring his brother back from the darkness that gripped him.

Only waiting and hoping, while using every ounce of will not to breakdown and give in to despair and tears.

Suddenly, Dean felt his throat tighten up to the point where in hurt to breathe, he felt anger and fear mingling with the despair already consuming him. He barely noticed that his meal had arrived, his appetite thoroughly trounced by the other feelings clashing inside him.

He wanted to run out of the diner and start screaming out his anguish at the top of his lungs loud enough for everyone including God himself to hear.

But in true Dean Winchester fashion, he stomped down the urge and instead focused his attention on the much needed meal set before him.

He could barely remember the last time he'd actually eaten anything solid in the passed two days, if he kept this up he would find himself in a hospital bed beside his brother and then what good would he be to Sammy?

With a deep breath, Dean pushed back all of the raging emotions and focused on eating his cheeseburger and fries.

The first bite of burger was like sawdust sandwiched between two slices of sandpaper inside his mouth.

Resisting the urge to gag and spit out the stuff, Dean mechanically forced his jaws to chew and then swallowed. He took of sip from the glass of cold soda that came with the meal before he began to repeat the process of biting, chewing, and then swallowing.

After a few repeats of this cycle, Dean picked up the pace and began rapidly devouring his meal but still not really tasting anything.

When he'd popped the final morsel of french fry into his mouth and finished his glass of soda, Dean felt his stomach's need for sustenance sated but still felt whole empty inside.

The older Winchester brother dug out his wallet and fished out the necessary bills to pay for his meal and tip the waitress before without a further glance, he flew out of the diner, very eager to get back to the person who was paramount in his mind.

At this point, Dean didn't care if Sam was still in the same state as he'd left him in, Dean just wanted to be with his baby brother and wait.

He'd wait for the rest of his life for Sam to wake up if he had to.

Dean quickly crossed the necessary streets and quietly ducked through the automatic sliding doors and headed for the elevators. After a short waits there was a small ding that signalled an elevator's arrival.

Dean waited for the elevator to empty before stepping in. He found himself to the lone passenger, which suited Dean just fine because he really didn't want some nurse of Doctor to eye him with silent pity on the way up to the ninth floor.

The ride seemed to go on forever and ever until the elevator eased to a full stop and the doors slid open with a small chime.

Dean eagerly exited the elevator and gave a quick nod to the nurse who was sitting behind the large desk in the very center of the floor before he walked down the long hallway to his brother's hospital room.

When Dean stepped over the threshold, he felt a wave of numbness and disappointment wash over him as he eyed his baby brother, still laying there pale as a sheet and with his eyes closed.

Still locked in a coma in Dean's mind.

Clenching his jaw hard enough to the point of pain, Dean quietly walked across the room to Sam's bedside and retook the seat in the uncomfortable chair next to the head of the hospital bed.

Dean sat there in the chair with only the faint sounds of Sam's breathing mingling with his own and just stared at his brother's lax and pale features.

As he sat there, Dean felt his threadbare heart begin to rend itself in two.

Sure, in the weeks since he'd found his younger sibling laying here senseless in a hospital bed Dean had had moments of despair. But now, in this moment Dean was finally beginning to loose the one thing that had kept him going for so long.

He was beginning to loose his hope.

He was beginning to loose hope that Sammy would find a way through the darkness that encompassed him and wake up.

Releasing a shaky breath and using all his will not to dissolved into full, body shaking sobs, Dean slumped forwards so low and buried his face into his hands.

He inhaled a deep, rattling breath and found himself loosing the battle to to keep his despair away.

But Dean being Dean, he managed to stifle the sound of his sobs from becoming full wails of misery. He carried on crying into his hands for a full long minutes before he let his hands flop bonelessly away from his face.

Dean stared at his baby brother through weeping eyes and felt himself crumble even further.

With a sob wrenching out of him and shaking his entire being, Dean clumsily pulled the chair he was sitting in as close as he could to Sam's hospital bedside.

Dean continued to stare at his baby brother pale and lax features, all the while blinking through tears of bitter salt that ran down his haggard cheeks in torrents.

The older Winchester brother leaned in so that his face was mere inches from that of his " comatose " younger brother.

" Sammy... Oh God... Please." Whispered Dean through painfully constricted vocal cords, desperation radiating off of him.

The with a soft yet still wrenching sob, Dean let his tear-filled eyes fall shut and the tight coils of tension evaporated from him.

The older brother lightly collapsed onto the edge of the hospital bed, with his head coming to rest over Sam's upper chest.

Dean's whole body was wracked with tremors as he buried his face into the spot over Sam's heart while his right hand shakily sought out the pale fingers that poked out of the plaster cast that encased the majority of Sam's left arm.

The soft thumping of his brother's heart against his cheek was little comfort to Dean, terror seeped into his already crumbling heart at the thought that if his baby brother didn't wake up soon, the thumping would stop... forever.

And forever was not something Dean Winchester could bare to happen to Sam.

And so, Dean lay all but collapsed over his grievously injured baby brother, in the full throws of despair and terror.

So caught up, he didn't notice a pair of moss green eyes flutter open for the second time this day, once again filled with the confusion of not being fully aware of his surroundings and situation.

Sam blinked his eyes a few times to once again readjust them to the light, a small frown creasing his brow as he felt a light weight over his chest.

And judging by the way this weight was minutely shaking, in was no inanimate object.

Then the warmth of fingers, callous roughened yet gently entwined with his own on his left hand registered.

With his heart beginning to pound and anxiety coursing through him, Sam moved his head downward and slowly as he could as not to give away the fact that he was awake.

The second his eyes fell downwards to his chest, Sam's heart froze to a dead stop, his lungs momentarily forgot how to work, while his eyes grew wide with shock and recognition.

Short and spiky dirty blond hair.

Worn and aged brown leather jacket.

What looked like a black cord resting against the back of a pale neck.

And dopey looking ears.

Only one individual fit this description.

Dean.

His big brother Dean.

Sam was about to call out his brother's name, joy filling him that Dean was here, with him, that somehow he came back for him but found that his unused and totally parched vocal cords just would not obey his will.

And then, Sam heard a noise that made the joy evaporate and had him feeling more afraid then he ever had been in his life.

A small, plaintiff sob that shook through Dean. And there was a tell-tale wetness seeping through his hospital gown and onto the skin over his heart.

Dean, his anti-chick-flick moment, tough as nails big brother... was crying, hard and without shame.

Dean was weeping.

And that made Sam's heart clench painfully within his chest.

With his voice more or less useless, Sam's still somewhat fuzzy mind came up with a different course of action, simple and to the point.

Now he just had to get his right arm to move.

At first, his thickly bandaged right hand didn't so much as twitch, but Sam Winchester was known for being a stubborn SOB after all.

Soon, his hand was twitching and at a snails pace it was finally sliding up towards his very upset older brother's face.

Dean clutched at Sam's pale fingers and simply lay there with his head pillowed against Sam's chest, biting back more sobs that silently shook his body and then he felt something touch his tear stained cheek.

The older Winchester brother's eyes instantly shot open, and then he was bolting upright in his seat completely startled.

Then, the breath left his lungs when he found a pair of familiar, moss green eyes staring back at him.

Dean gawked at Sam with his jaw slack and hanging slightly open.

Sam stared back with his own beginning to burn.

After what seemed like hours when in actuality they were mere seconds, Dean voice returned to him, though all he could manage was one scared but hesitantly hopeful word.

One name.

" S-Sammy?"

Sam slowly licked at his dry lips before he parted them and tried to answer his brother's single word quiery.

The best he could muster was a dry croak.

" H-Hey... D... De'n."