Notes: Okay, I'm useless to the world right now ... Kripke has broken me … so have Jensen and Jared and Jim with their amazing performances ... I'll probably only be my cheery self again when Season 4 starts ... and because I just cannot leave my story on an evil cliffie after the best season finale ever ... here goes ...

My version of the Season 4 premiere ... AU obviously LOL ;0)

Thanks as always to my wonderful beta Phoebe who's soothing my broken soul with her words of encouragement and allowing me to pamper her story 'Canaveral' ... all errors are still mine ;0)

Warning: Mild Language

Chapter 5

"Faith"

Sammy's POV

He's gone.

An agonising sob rips through my body again.

I watched as my brother, the one person I love the most in the world, walked through those fiery gates and disappeared. When he turned for that one brief moment to look back at me, his eyes full of reassurances, still trying to protect me one last time ... I almost got up and ran after him ... I would have ... I would have grabbed onto him and never let go, gone into hell with him ... but his dying body is still lying in my arms and dad's whispered words keep repeating in my head ...

I look down at the face that I know better than my own. His eyes are open ... green glassy orbs staring back at me, but they're dead eyes and I watch heartbroken as more of my tears splash onto his still, pale face. I can feel each beat strumming faintly against my fingertips, where my fingers block the gaping wound over his heart. I think my fingers are actually touching his heart, and normally the thought would make me sick, but now ... now it's the only evidence I have that Deans body is still alive ... just barely.

I want him back, please god ... I just want my brother back. My voice is soft and broken.

"… come back Dean … please …"

I rock him slowly in my embrace, crying and shaking ... I'm lost ... I don't know what to do ... Dean, tell me what to do.

My throat aches with unbearable grief... he's gone ... and I want to go with him ... I didn't save him ... I was too late ...

"Sam?"

It takes me a minute before I realise that someone is calling me ... I look up dazed into soft, concerned features ...

"Ellen ... Dean's gone ..."

My voice breaks. She's kneeling in front of me, her hand resting tentatively on my shoulder.

"I know honey ... I'm so sorry ..."

"He left me Ellen ... he left me ... but I want him back ..."

I watch as Bobby kneels down next to Ellen, his face full of the pain I feel. I blink at him through my tears. He's holding the discarded and damaged old book in his hands … what did the Hunter call it? The prophecy? … god I'm sick to death of all the damn 'what if's' and 'maybe's' that have been following us around … 'what if I turn darkside' … 'maybe we'll save the world' … none of it matters … nothing matters anymore …

"Sam ... son ... you need to tell us what to do ... what do you need us to do?"

I look at him blankly for a second ... then understanding dawns on me ... he's asking if we should even bother to try and save Dean's body … wanting me to make the decision ... we all know his soul is gone, and I start shaking again ...

I can't think straight, I didn't have a plan for this ... I need help ... dad ... I remember him leaning down to whisper in my ear ... "Save your brother Sammy ... only you can do it ... it's not his time ..."

"I need to save him Bobby ..."

"Okay kiddo, then let's get moving ..."

The relief at hearing Bobby actually say those words, the comfort it brings me and the hope that maybe I can still do something, it gives me the strength I need. I block out all thoughts ... just one mission, one purpose, one job ... I need to save Dean.

I watch numbly as Bobby leaves to fetch his pick-up which he parked further down the road behind some trees. They hid it so that they could sneak up on Lilith and her posse, much good it did. They're all gone now, there's hardly any evidence that they were even here, except for the smell. He reverses until he's parked just in front of us. Ellen helps him lay down some blankets in the back while I look down at Dean's ashen face. He takes another shallow, shuddering breath, his body shaking ever so slightly in my arms and his glazed eyes still staring straight through me. No sparkle of mischief, not even a hint of pain … just … lifeless. I bite my trembling bottom lip, using my free hand to gently close his eyelids. I can't bear to look into those vacant eyes. I can feel his weakening heart moving against my fingertips, thumping slowly where my fingers push against the bleeding wound ... god, there's so much blood …

"Fight Dean ... just keep fighting ... I'll save you ... I promise ..."

I'll die trying. Bobby quickly moves the Impala and Ford off the road behind some bushes, before he and Ellen are kneeling in front of me again.

"Okay Sam, we need to lift him up and lay him down in the back of the truck. Try and keep your hand steady ... once you're both settled, Ellen will get in and help you. ... hospital is just a few miles away ..."

I nod in understanding. A few miles can be a lifetime, especially with my brother's life quite literally in my hands right now but I have no doubt that Bobby is going to break some serious traffic offences to get us there. They manoeuvre around us, Ellen taking Deans legs, Bobby gently lifting Dean under the arms, while I carefully shift out from under him, keeping my hand firm but steady and using my free arm to cradle Dean's back.

"On three ... one, two ... three."

We all heave Dean up. I wince slightly as I feel something moving in my own chest but I ignore the burst of pain. I keep Dean's body straight and carefully move over to the back of the truck. We lay him down gently on the blankets, the first aid kit waiting open in the corner as I position myself behind him, lifting him slightly and letting his head rest on my thigh. I'm covered in blood, his blood, and my fingers are cramping slightly but they're still securely plugging the wound in his chest. Ellen climbs in after us as Bobby slams the tailgate shut.

He leans over to squeeze Dean's shoulder before he looks up at me with determination shimmering in his moist eyes.

"Okay Sam ... hold tight ..."

I nod again ... I can't seem to talk ... words are just too painful. Ellen pulls a blanket over Dean, and then secures one around my shoulders before she starts checking Dean's vitals and dressing the cut across his chest. Dean gasps then coughs, a wet gurgling sound as blood starts dribbling down his chin. I carefully tilt his head back to help him breathe, wiping absently at the red streak, only managing to smudge it. He doesn't make another sound. I know he can't feel anything, he's not here anymore. I whimper, unable to hold back my despair. His breath is so faint I can hardly see his chest rise and fall and fear grips my heart again. I stare at his smooth, pale features, he looks oddly peaceful, and I quickly block the thought of the torment his soul must be going through right now. Instead I watch as Ellen presses a dressing over the cut, distractedly wondering if they'll be able to repair the tattoo as I let my hand run lovingly through his short hair. Please don't let this be the last time. He's still alive, I just need to hold onto that ... his body is still alive.

Bobby drives painfully slowly, trying not to jar us in the back, before he gets us onto the main road, and then suddenly the truck roars to life as he steps on the gas. The cool morning breeze whips around us and I pull the blanket up higher, under Dean's chin. The darkness engulfs us like a black shroud, a death shroud, the image sending a shudder through me. Two hours. Just two hours ago Dean and I were hugging, having an 'awkward moment' as Dean would call it. I frown with self loathing ... we still had hope then, thought we could win this thing, but I stuffed everything up ... me ... if I hadn't come out here by myself, if I'd stuck with the plan ... two hours ago I still had my brother ... but everything changed in an instant ... I lost the one good thing in my life. I want to chuckle at the irony ... and cry … and rant ... and scream ...

"Ellen ..."

"Yes Sam."

She's holding Dean's wrist, her finger on his pulse.

"How long do you think a body can survive ... without its soul?"

A sad smile tugs at her lips as she reaches over to squeeze my arm.

"I wish I knew kid, I've ... we've never been in this situation before."

I nod my head. This is new territory for all of us. I need to find a way to bring Dean back ... I don't know how ... but it's all on my shoulders, my responsibility, my fault ... and I won't, I can't let Dean down ... never again ... I squeeze my eyes shut. Dean's in hell and I find myself holding him tighter. Images of torture and hellfire from books and paintings flashing through my mind ... I can't think about that now ... my grip on sanity is fragile to say the least. I'm on the precipice of endless madness, a pit I'll fall into if I don't bring my brother back. I've lived without him before, for three long and empty months. I can't live that life again ... I'd rather die.

I stare out at the road, watching the white line fade into the darkness behind us, my vision blurred. His body is clinging onto life, he's still fighting ... but how am I going to bring him back? How am I supposed to save him when I couldn't even do it right the first time round? A flutter against my fingers draws my attention back to Dean's face. I'm starting to think it was my imagination when it happens again, his weak breath stopping and starting sporadically. Oh god ...

"Ellen ... something's wrong ..."

"What? What is it Sam?"

"I don't know, it's ... I can feel his heart ... it feels like it's fluttering ... almost shuddering in his chest ... and his not breathing properly ..."

"Shit!"

I look at her in shock ...

"What? What's happening?"

She immediately kneels over Dean, feeling for a pulse in his neck, and putting her ear near his mouth. His lips are taking on a horrible blue tinge and I shake my head in denial ...

"Shit!"

I jump as she suddenly hits the back window behind Bobby who swerves slightly. She has to shout above the noise of the engine.

"Bobby ... we've got a problem ... how long till we get there?"

He yells back ...

"Ten ... maybe fifteen minutes ... why? What's wrong?"

"Dean's going into cardiac arrest ... he's stopped breathing ... so make it five ..."

The truck revs and suddenly we're hurtling way over the speed limit. I look at Ellen in shock as the truth of her words sink in, Dean's body suddenly shaking violently in my arms and then instantly going still. I look down at him in confusion.

"What? No ... NO ... he's okay ... he's going to be okay ..."

She grabs my face in her hands.

"Sam, listen to me, I know this is hard ... I need you to pull yourself together, your brother needs you ... I need you ..."

I know she's right ... I just can't lose him now … again … not when there's even the remotest chance that I might …

"... what do you need me to do?"

"I'm going to start chest compressions ... just keep maintaining the pressure on the wound."

I know the drill ... Ellen puts her hands flat on Dean's chest and begins the fast compressions. I count them off in my head, before leaning forward awkwardly and covering Dean's mouth with my own as I breathe for him. My own chest wrenches, bone jarring bone ... and I can taste copper in my mouth ... but I'm not sure if it's my own blood or Deans. All I know is that I just have to breathe for my brother, not caring about anything else as Ellen and I continue CPR.

"Come on Dean."

Ellen's plaintive demand adding to the surreal sensation that envelopes me as I feel Dean's heart move beneath my fingers, feeling each forceful compression. And finally, after what feels like a lifetime, I smile tiredly when the weak but steady rhythm returns, knowing he's back before Ellen says ...

"Sam, he's back ..."

I sigh shallowly with relief, my head falling back as Bobby calls to us that he can see the hospital just up ahead. Minutes later we're slamming on breaks in front of the emergency entrance, Bobby jumping out of the cab and yelling for nurses and doctors and anyone else with a degree to assist us. We're suddenly swarmed by medical personnel. They're shocked to find that my fingers are plugging the deadly wound in my brothers chest, but they tell me to keep my hand still as they move Dean onto a gurney while I try to stand on shaky legs next to him.

They start pushing us towards the entrance while I try to keep up, my hand becoming part of their life saving equipment as they check Dean's pupils and pulse. Ellen thankfully explains how we had to perform CPR a few short minutes ago, telling them how we were mugged as she convincingly gives them our cover story while Bobby goes off to fill in the paperwork, he's listed as our medical guardian. I don't think I could talk right now even if I wanted to. Everything just passes in a blur as I'm moved into the triage area with Dean.

A nurse's face is suddenly up close and personal with mine. She smells like disinfectant.

"Hey son ... what's your name?"

I force the words past my dry lips.

"Um … Sam ..."

She looks at me with concern.

"You okay Sam … you look a bit pale."

"I'm fine."

… god lady just get away from me … I need to concentrate on my brother right now. She writes something on a clipboard, thankfully leaving me alone as my eyes are drawn to the nurses and doctors standing next to me, surrounding Dean's gurney. They're cutting off his clothing, exposing his battered body to my eyes. He's covered in bruises ... the deep gouge still bleeding sluggishly, running horizontally across his tattoo. They carefully cut the material around my fingers where they disappear deep into his chest and I get a good first look at the wound that is killing my brother. The wound that Ruby gave him. I thought she was on our side, but Dean was right ... he's always right. I swallow hard. My eyes drift to the dark, dry blood covering his chest in stark contrast to his pasty skin.

I watch as they bend his head back and insert a tube down his throat to intubate him. He gags slightly as they open his airway, before they rhythmically start pumping oxygen into his lungs. Leads and wires and monitors are quickly connected to his chest to get read outs and stats … everyone talking over each other … I listen to them in dazed confusion.

"Okay, what have we got?"

"Male, late 20's, unconscious on arrival, stab wound to the chest, from the amount of blood loss, guessing an arterial rupture to or near the heart. His pupils are unresponsive, blood pressure 60 over 45, pulse 130 and thready, CPR on route … this here is Sam, he probably just saved his brothers life by stopping the bleed."

"Nice work son …"

I can only nod as the doctor carefully probes the area of Dean's chest around my fingers. I instantly feel sick.

"Okay, we need to get him down to x-rays and book an OR immediately."

The doctor looks at me worriedly.

"You're doing a great job Sam … are you okay … do you think you can keep your hand steady for a while longer?"

"Yeah …"

"You not going to faint on us are you?"

I probably look as pale as Dean, but my voice is surprisingly steady.

"No."

"That's good … you're doing good."

He turns around and rattles off some information to the medical staff surrounding us.

"Okay looks like we have a tension pneumothorax plus we've got decreased breath sounds on the affected side. We need to immediately decompress with a needle thoracostomy in the second interocostal space, midclavicular line."

I look at him stupidly for a second ... I didn't catch any of that ...

"Sam, I know you're shaken up, but I need you to understand … your fingers are pressing against the ruptured artery … we can't move your hand just yet cause your brother will bleed out … we need to get him into surgery and try and stop the bleeding there and get his blood pressure up, but I need to know from you … can you handle it … cause I'd like you to keep the pressure on it for now, like you've been doing …"

"Yes …"

It's all I can get out ... I'll do anything …whatever it takes ...

The doctor looks me in the eye, he still doesn't seem too convinced.

"Sam … you have to understand what I'm asking. I want you to come with us to x-rays and surgery … if you can't do it, you have to let us know now … we can't have you passing out from shock, you won't be helping us if you do."

I nod my head in understanding.

"If you don't feel up to it, it's okay, we'll just make another plan … but like I always say, don't mess with a good thing. You've got the bleeding under control, your brother is fairly stable … but it's up to you son … are you sure you can handle this?"

I nod my head again, I've seen enough blood and gore, probably more then the doctor has seen in his entire career, I can handle this … even if this is different, even if this is Dean. My eyes presumably show my determination because the doctor eventually smiles, a look of admiration on his face.

"Good … let's get moving people."

I watch as the buzz of activity around us doubles, amazed at how efficient everyone is as I try to focus on them rattling off instructions.

"Run an open line of IV saline and give him 2 pints of AB neg."

"Blood pressure weak but stable, give him 0.5mg of Lanoxin IV push."

They start moving the gurney out into the hall again, walking us quickly through the ER. I see Ellen and Bobby out of the corner of my eye. Bobby looks at me worriedly but immediately understands what's happening, reading my expression, he smiles tentatively and nods his encouragement. I smile back weakly before we move into the lift and the doors close behind us.

I force my emotions aside, just running on instinct. I feel the way I did when I thought I'd lost Dean after the Trickster incident. Running on pure instinct is what got me through those months, it's what will get me through the next few hours. The x-rays are mercifully quick, giving the surgeons an idea of the damage and how to repair it. They also do a quick ultrasound around the cardiac area, apparently it's showing blood around the heart but not the abdomen. I can hear them discussing Dean's case as we move through to the OR while a nurse starts preparing Dean for surgery and another one helps me clean up. For the moment Dean and I are inseparably joined. He'd probably make fun of me, I can just imagine what names he'd come up with ... calling me a "useless appendage" would more than likely top the bill ... I smile sadly.

The nurse can't do anything about my bloodied clothing, but she removes my shoes and covers my feet with those plastic sock things. I force a smile as she helps me put on a surgical gown through my free arm, biting back a groan as she ties it loosely around my chest, my ribs are still aching, I'm almost certainly a pallet of bruises. My fingers haven't moved from my brother's chest though, and I'm keeping the pressure steady … the knowledge that this small action is the only thing keeping Dean's body alive, keeps me centred and focussed on my task. She wipes my arms and my hands with an antiseptic cloth. Finally finishing off the sickening green apparel with a surgical cap and mask. I look like all the other doctors milling into the room. Dean would laugh again if he could see me now. I find myself trying to remember his laugh, god, is it possible, could I forget something like that? I close my eyes and picture his face, picture him laughing, and I can almost hear it, but it already feels like a distant memory. I swallow hard. I'm not going to break down, I can't give up ... this is saving Dean … I'm saving Dean … if I don't ... then there will be nothing worth saving of me.

They carefully move me to Dean's left side, positioning me near his shoulder. A nurse pushes a high chair under me and I gratefully sit down. I don't know how much longer I could have stood on my own steam, my knees feel weak already. The anaesthesiologist looks at me, smiling kindly behind her mask.

"Sam, can I call you Sam?"

I nod.

"Okay ... if you want, you can help me, we need to monitor your brother's blood oxygen levels, so if you keep your eyes on these readings then the doctors will just work around us. Okay?"

I nod again ... she's trying to keep me distracted from what's about to happen. They're about to operate on my brother ... they're going to try and save his life. The doctor from the ER, Dr Howard, checks on me one last time, making sure that I'm still focused. He seems happy enough with my responses and I find myself suddenly listening to all the unfamiliar sounds and orders being passed around as they start the procedure. I don't watch, but I know when they do the first incision, my eyes focused on Dean's face, tubes and wires running in and out of him. I watch the drip of the IV line, and when I feel my eyes getting tired I turn my attention back to Dean's face, rubbing soothing lines across his brow. I'm surprised to find that I've been watching the ventilator rise and fall as it pushes air into his lungs, for the past 10 minutes. I don't have any sense of time ... seconds flow into minutes, minutes into hours.

"Clamp."

... I need you Dean ... please you need to fight ... okay ...

"Suction."

... I don't want to live in this world without you ...

"Sam?"

... please come back to me ... I just want you back ...

"Sam?"

I look up.

"You with me Sam? This is it son ... I want you to slowly remove your hand."

I don't think I can, my hand is locked in position, but the nurse next to me thankfully takes my wrist and helps guide my fingertips slowly out of Dean's chest. Blood instantly bubbles from the deep wound, the suctioning sound making me ill.

"Okay ... we've got it ... we've got it ..."

I'm looking at Dean's chest for the first time since the surgery started. They have the one side of his chest open, clamps and tubes running into the cavity. I fight the urge to hurl, the sudden frantic beeping from the machinery ripping away the last of my hope as I climb off the chair unsteadily.

"Blood pressure is dropping."

... no ... no ...

"Come on Dean … just hang in there for a few more minutes kiddo …"

I take a step back.

"Doctor, blood pressure and ox levels have just dropped through the floor, he's crashing …"

I watch in horror as the doctor sticks his whole hand into Dean's chest, starting an internal cardiac massage. He's firmly massaging Dean's heart with his hand, he's heartbeat flatlining on one of the numerous monitors.

"No … please …"

Dean? He's leaving me again ... no ... he's already gone ... NO ...

I take another step back, pulling off the awkward gown and letting it drop to the floor as I begin wiping my hands on my jeans, before looking down incomprehensibly at the fresh blood streaks I've left behind. My hands ... they're covered in Dean's blood. I stumble until my back hits the wall, staring at my fingers as if they belong to someone else, but the beat of Dean's heart is still ghosting along my fingertips. They were in his chest.

I look up, one of the surgeons barks orders that they need to shock him, applying paddles directly to his heart, first at 150 Joules and when his heart doesn't respond, again at 200 Joules.

I watch in stunned silence as they fight to save him …

I slide down the wall as my knees give way, sitting on the cold floor just staring at all the blood covering me. Every precious drop ... so much on my clothes, on my skin ... its Dean's ... I start rubbing at it, my movements suddenly becoming frantic. I find that I can't breathe, my chest hurts ... I hurt ... Dean? I look up ... tears obscuring my vision.

"Okay, let get some arterial and venous lines inserted through the right femoral artery and vein."

The doctor is still massaging Dean's heart, but he looks up for a brief instant and sees me, he's eyes immediately filled with concern, god … I don't want to be a liability, they need to keep all their focus on Dean … I try to push myself up, but my body is shaking so badly, I just slump down again.

"Someone ... check on Sam please! Sam, buddy you okay over there?"

I try to nod but my vision is swimming … I listen as they shock Dean's heart again … the shrill sound of the monitors still filling the room … he's dying, he's not going to make it … I sob … my chest instantly burning again and I cough, watching the blood spatter from my mouth and over my ruined clothing. I hurt … god I'm losing him … that hurts so much more. A nurse's face is instantly in front of mine, she lifts my head and yells back orders to someone else. She asks me something … I can't understand … I don't care … Dean's dying …

"Sam … are you in pain?"

Yes damnit … my brother dying is more painful then you'll ever know …

"Sam … come on, focus on me, where are you hurt?"

Hands are all over me, people trying to lift me up or lay me down, I'm not sure anymore. I try to push them away ... they need to help Dean damnit. I can hear the doctor shouting more orders from across the room … I'm sorry ... I don't want to be in the way ...

"SAM! For god sake Judy … is he okay, the kids as white as a sheet … is he bleeding?"

"Sam ... look at me, you with us? Sam?"

Blurred, everything's blurred ... I want to throw up ... but Dean's dying ... save him, leave me ... please just save him ...

As my eyes roll back, Dean's name is the last thing on my lips as I slip into the welcoming blackness.

TBC