Disclaimer: refer to chapter one

NOTE TO READERS: Thanks in advance for any and all reviews. I'm very thankful for every kind observation and comment that has been left on this story, thus far. Thank you! I hope you enjoy chapter 9 and I will try to start work on chapter 10 as soon as possible. Happy Holidays, a little early. Thanks again!

Chapter Nine

If Wishes Were Fishes

By Dawn Nyberg

Dean felt like he was floating as he slowly surfaced toward waking. He felt warm and comfortable. He almost didn't want to open his eyes, but there was something wrong and he knew it, so he continued toward waking. A steady beeping noise crept into his awareness and he focused on the sound. His eyes opened slowly and focused on the white ceiling above him.

"Welcome back," Ellen's voice broke through the fog. He turned his head slowly toward her voice. He looked at her for a long moment and said nothing as his brain tried to play catch up with the situation. "Dean, honey," Ellen's voice softened. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," his voice was a mere whisper as he spoke.

"Here," she leaned forward pouring some cool water into a cup with a straw for him. He reached out for it with a shaky hand. "No," she replied. "You're shaking like a leaf. I can hold it for you." She held the cup and straw as he drank. This wasn't the Ellen Harvelle he was familiar with, but he was thankful for her help. He leaned back into his pillow as his mind still tried to grasp at fragments.

"Thanks," his voice a little stronger.

"No problem. Well, you sure know how to scare the hell out of me Dean Winchester," she scolded. He frowned and looked around his room. He was attached to a heart monitor and wore a pulse-ox meter on his left index finger. He had a blood pressure cuff attached, as well. He saw the IV stand with multiple bags hanging.

"What the hell happened? Where am I?"

"You're at Stanton Memorial Hospital in the CICU," Ellen began. "Once Marcus and a Dr. Stowe stabilized you at the Center they called Care Flight for you and then Marcus called me to say you'd collapsed." Final memories before the blackness had swallowed him came flooding back and he jerked up in his bed.

"Sammy! Oh, God, I gotta get back to him. How long have I been out? Shit, he was headed for an MRI. He needs me. I gotta go." Dean tried to get up as his heart monitor began to beep rapidly.

"The hell you do? Your ass isn't moving from this damn bed," Ellen commanded. "You're going to lay there and do nothing. Sam is okay. Marcus is looking after him until you're out of here."

"He's okay? He's awake?" Dean's eyes were hopeful. Ellen listened as his heart monitor quieted slightly.

"No, he's still in the coma, but the MRI showed no bleeding. He's stabilized. Marcus visits with him during his day at the center and talks to him. The pneumonia responded to the antibiotics and cleared up quicker than they had ever seen before."

"Ellen he needs me there," his eyes were pleading. Dean knew why the pneumonia cleared, so quickly. It was a creation of Sam's mind that manifested and he had pulled him away from that memory.

"No, he needs you alive and healthy Dean. You've been burning the candle at both ends for so long that it finally caught up with you and your body is too stressed."

"What happened? You said I was in the CICU," Dean started. "That's the heart isn't?"

"Yes," Ellen answered bluntly. "You scared Marcus something fierce boy and me too."

"What happened?" Dean's mind was torn. He wanted to be at Sam's bedside. He knew and felt he was Sam's anchor, and his brother was the same for him, and it felt wrong not being at his side.

"Your cardiologist here at the hospital explained to me that you had a stress induced cardiac arrhythmia and your blood pressure shot up and down for a while. You had the staff on their toes here for a bit. They also said you were suffering from exhaustion."

"How long have I been here?" Dean looked at the clock in his room and it was just a little after 8:00 and from the small window he could tell it was night. "Is that clock right?"

"Yeah, it's right," Ellen replied.

"Then good, I've only been away from Sam for about four hours, so I can still get back. I'll take it easy."

"Dean, you weren't listening to me earlier were you? I said your ass isn't going anywhere. And, anyway, it's been longer than four hours."

"No," Dean pointed at the clock. "Sam was headed to the MRI a little after 4:00 PM, so…"

"Dean you've been unconscious for two days kiddo." Dean's eyes were wide.

"What? No, he needs me there Ellen. He could die if I'm not. He only listens to me. I get through to him." Dean struggled and Ellen placed both hands on Dean's chest holding him down.

"Dean! You can't leave here. You're here for a reason." She reached down and hit the call button. Dean continued to struggle as his heart monitor beeped a staccato rhythm and he began panting in short breaths. He continued to struggle under Ellen's hands and now there were new hands also holding him down as he fought. He watched a syringe get injected into the tubing of his IV and within seconds he felt a warm sensation flow into and up his arm and he sunk into a calming darkness with his brother's name on his lips.

"Damn he's strong," Dr. Giles commented as he released his hold on Dean. Ellen looked at him and smirked.

"Yeah," she replied. "Is he okay?"

"Well," the doctor began as he looked at Dean's monitor. "His heart rhythm is a little irritated, but it's regulating now that he's sedated. I'll be keeping an eye on him for the next hour or so to see if it stays regulated. His blood pressure is up again, so I'll give him something for that. He'll sleep for a few hours, maybe through the night with that sedative."

"Thanks," Ellen sat back down at Dean's bedside. She knew Dean wanted to be with Sam, but she felt comfortable knowing that her friend Marcus was looking after Sam in the Medical unit until Dean could take back his job at his brother's side.

Meanwhile, Stillwater Center, Sam's Room

"Hi Sam," Dr. Winters spoke casually to his young patient. He watched Sam's silent features and studied the rise of his chest with a click of the ventilator and lowered with a swishing whoosh from the machine. His patient had lapsed into a coma over four days ago and still hadn't shown any signs that he was coming out of it. "I know you'd rather have your brother here, but he can't be right now. He's a little under the weather, but I spoke to his doctor and he said he's doing much better. He woke up today and asked about you. His doctor said he's resting now and that's the best thing for him. Look," he reached up and placed his hand on Sam's forearm. "You have to keep improving, okay? If you get worse on my watch Dean will chew me a new one," he said with a wry grin. "That brother of yours is a regular pit bull." He reached up a touched at his bruised jaw and spilt lip. "I've got the battle wounds to prove it when I tried to pull him away from you. I'm not sure you're hearing me at all kiddo, but I just wanted to stop by before I head out for the night. And, I wanted to make sure you knew that if Dean could be here right now he would. It's time you woke up Sam." The doctor lowered his head for a moment and looked back up studying Sam's silent face. "Dean needs you." He said simply. "I'll see you tomorrow. Be good for the staff tonight, okay? Sleep well." He patted Sam's arm and left.

Words filtered in from a distance as if on some kind of delayed relay and were more like white noise, but when he concentrated Sam could hear some words. He stood looking out the window at the dark landscape. He placed his hand on the cold window glass and listened to the words buried in the white noise coming from outside.

I know you'd rather …have …brother …but can't …here right now…

The fragmented words piled on top of one another and he fought to piece them together.

He's under…weather…spoke…his doctor …time you woke up…Dean needs you…

The fragments began to coalescence in his mind and as he put them together he knew one terrible truth and it scared him. Dean was hurt or sick and his brother needed him. He turned around abruptly in a panic as he scanned the relatively empty room. He needed a way out, but he had no clue. He paced in frustration. "Dean?" he spoke the name out loud and he watched the white-gray walls seem to waiver, but he remained. He looked around desperately needing to leave this place. The words he'd heard earlier from a voice not his brother's grasped him once again, Dean needs you. Sam felt hot tears sting his eyes in fear and frustration. "Dean, please," his voice shook as he begged and the walls were gone. Sam opened his eyes.

Meanwhile, Stanton Memorial Hospital, Dean's CICU Room

Ellen watched Dean sleep. She had left word at the Roadhouse that she'd be back later, but she wanted to sit with Dean for a while. She was thankful the sedative still had Dean deeply unconscious. It was a relief to see the stress lines he frequently had relaxed leaving him looking like a young boy despite turning twenty-nine earlier this year. She looked down at Dean's hospital ID bracelet on his wrist and shook her head, it was hard to believe he was born in 1979; he looked just like a boy while he slept with the help of the sedative.

"Rest Dean," she whispered and placed her hand gently on his arm.

Meanwhile, Stillwater Center, Sam's Room

Sam fought the intubation tube, but found his hands gently restrained by a nurse that happened to be in the room taking his vitals when he awoke abruptly. "Shh, it's okay," she urged. "Relax, I'll call Dr. Nish." Sam focused on her with wild eyes and he found himself searching for Dean, although part of his mind knew why he wasn't there.

"Sam, welcome back," Dr. Nish appeared in his line of sight. "I'm giving you something to relax you, okay? You gave us quite a scare. It's okay, you're going to be fine" he attempted to soothe. Sam stopped fighting against the tube down his throat and his eyes drifted closed as the mild sedative began to pull him under. Dr. Nish watched Sam fall back asleep and nodded approvingly as his patients vitals regulated from the anxiety upon waking. "Please, call Dr. Winters and tell him Sam woke up. I'm going to extubate him," he commented as he looked at the ventilator settings and Sam's tidal volumes. "He's triggering the vent, so he has spontaneous respirations and his volume looks good." The nurse nodded and moved to assist the doctor.

Two Hours Later, Sam's Room

Sam opened his eyes slowly still feeling a bit foggy and immediately recognized the lack of intrusion in his throat. He tasted something funny in the back of his throat and smacked his lips in response. "It's just an anesthetic Dr. Nish sprayed on the back of your throat to help with the discomfort of having the tube removed. It tastes kinda bad." Sam focused on the voice and turned his head. He focused on the face of Dr. Winters. His mind was still sorting through the haze of the mild sedative. He started to clear his throat, "Here, your throat is dry. Take slow sips." He felt a cup pressed to his mouth and drank a little of the cool water the doctor was providing him.

"Thanks," he whispered against the rawness of his throat. His eyes continued to rove around his room. "Where's Dean?" He knew something was off and he could almost grasp what it was, but it slipped away. He studied the doctor and something clicked. "Your voice," he began rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. "Were you talking to me?" The doctor smiled.

"You did hear me a little, huh?"

"I guess. Did you say something about Dean? He's okay, right?" Sam saw the doctor glance nervously at his monitors looking for a warning of some sort. "I'm not going to lose it," Sam assured quietly. "Where's my brother?"

"Dean's going to be fine." Dr. Winters assured. "He's just been burning the candle at both ends and stress sort of put him on his back … literally." Sam cast a worried glance toward the doctor. "I checked in on him Sam. He's okay … he's resting. He's at Stanton Memorial."

"Hospital? How bad is he really?"

"Sam, I said he's fine and I don't want you upsetting yourself."

"Not knowing how my brother is doing exactly is what is upsetting me. I'm fine. Do you see me freaking out?"

"No," the doctor conceded. "But, I think the sedative is still playing a role in your calmness."

"Maybe," Sam relented. "But, I want to know how he is."

The doctor filled Sam in on Dean's collapse and his cardiac stress induced arrhythmia. Dr. Winters was pleased that although Sam appeared very concerned over his sibling he was remaining calm and hadn't had one episode of outbursts or panic attacks. He knew it may be fleeting, but perhaps Sam had turned a corner he'd have to see.

The Next Day, Dean's CICU Room, Morning

Dean came to slowly from his medicated sleep. His vision was unfocussed and fuzzy. He blinked lazily and rubbed his eyes with a hand. He heard hushed voices and turned his head to see unclear dark images standing just outside his doorway. His vision cleared and he saw Ellen speaking with Marcus Winters. He tried to hear what they were saying and it wasn't until he heard his brother's name spoken that he opened his mouth. "What about Sammy?" His voice croaked. Ellen and Marcus both turned suddenly and obviously surprised to hear Dean's voice.

"Dean," Ellen spoke first. "You're awake."

"I asked you both a question," Dean's tone serious. "What about Sammy? Is he okay?"

"Dean," Dr. Winters voice was firm. "Remain calm," he looked at the monitors as his Dean's vitals spiked. "Sam is fine. He's awake." Dean's vital almost immediately leveled off and the doctor smiled in relief.

"Awake? He's out of the coma?"

"Yes."

"And, he's okay?" he hesitated. "I mean … his brain. He's alright?"

"There's no sign of any brain damage. We actually were able to talk for a bit. He knows about you being in here and he sent a message," he said with a grin and blushed slightly. Dean looked at him oddly.

"Well? What did he say?" Dean asked. The doctor cleared his throat and looked at Ellen and then Dean.

"He said, Get some sleep, bitch," Marcus relayed. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Figures," he complained. "Geek boy stole my word." The doctor raised an eyebrow.

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Dean commented. "You seein' him today doc?"

"Yes, we're going to have a session while he's still in the Medical unit, and I expect he'll be able to be transferred back to his regular room in another day or two."

"When can I see him?"

"Dean." Ellen began. "You'll see him when you're able. You collapsed and you're in a cardiac intensive care unit. Has that not got through that thick, damn stubborn head of yours?"

"Ellen," he complained. He knew the woman was well meaning, but she was treading on thin ice when she started to get between him and his little brother. He took a calming breath. "I know where I am and I also know Sam needs me."

"But…"

"No," Dean countered. "Look I get that I put myself in here alright. And, I get that I can't run right back to the Center to see Sam. I have no intention in keeling over in front of him and sending him over the edge. He's my responsibility," he asserted. "And, I'm an adult. I'll see Sam when I say the time is right and the doc here says Sam can see me," he cast a glance at the doctor.

"When you're given the green light from your doctor Dean you can see Sam whenever you choose. I'm not keeping you boys apart again not like the last time. I still think for a while at least that his sessions should be with me, but eventually I'd like to have you sit in on them to be there for him. But, I assure you that I'll never ask you to stay away again." Dean offered the man a small smile and nodded.

"Fine," Ellen acquiesced to both men. "Sorry," she replied begrudgingly. "You're right. It's just I worry about you boys and …" her voice trailed off.

"I get it Ellen," Dean answered in a gentle tone. Ellen nodded.

One Month Later, Stillwater Center, the Acute Wing

"Hey Sammy," Dean smiled as he walked into the sunroom and found his brother sitting at a table in a far corner. Sam was looking out a window lost in thought. "Sammy?"

"Huh?" Sam was pulled from his thoughts. "Oh, hey," he offered a smile. Dean studied his brother's face and frowned.

"You look tired," he commented. "You sleepin' okay?"

"Yeah, my meds at night put me out," Sam replied casually. His life as of late had become a strict regimen of pills and therapy with Dr. Winters.

"So what's up?" Dean sat down and scooted the chair closer to his brother. "I ran into the doc on my way in here and he said your session went okay today."

"It's been a month since I got out of the Medical unit Dean," Sam began suddenly. "I know I've been in here nine months now, and you and the doc were both there when he told me about the demon and the ritual. You and he have been telling me some things, but as much as you tell me you leave out."

"Sammy, just take things slow," Dean encouraged.

"Slow? I'm in a mental institution Dean having daily therapy sessions and popping pills, how much slower do you want me to go?" Sam let out a slow frustrated sigh. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"The ritual banned the demon for a long time, right? Like a millennia or something?"

"Yeah, so?" Dean wasn't sure where his brother was going with this line of questioning.

"Nothing, it's just…" his voice trailed off. "I remember the cabin and Dad being possessed. I even remember you were pretty busted up afterward from that yellow-eyed bastard. I've had patchy memories of the car crash and the hospital. I remember talking to Dad about you and that we needed to find a way to help you, but it's fuzzy after that, and…"

"And, what?" Dean felt unease growing in his chest and Sam seemed to be jumping from one line of questioning to another.

"There's no demon to be hunting Dean, so where's Dad? And, don't feed me the 'he's hunting' line of bullshit either. Dad may be guilty of screwed up priorities most of the time, but if the demon's out of commission for the long haul then where is he? Because I know he wouldn't stay away, especially with me locked up in here. Where is he?" Dean looked away and seemed content to stare at the tile pattern on the floor. "Dean?" Sam gauged his big brother and watched his jaw twitch with tension, and then he saw the unmistakable glisten in his brother's eyes and he felt his chest tighten. Sam knew without knowing and he didn't want to deal with it and he refused to break down since that was what they all seemed to expect here. He stood up abruptly and walked out of the sunroom.

It happened so quick that when Dean looked up Sam was already passing through the doorway to the hallway. "Crap," he hissed. "Sammy wait up." Dean caught up to his brother in the hall and gently reached out stopping him with a hand on his shoulder. Sam turned to face him and Dean saw the anger and anguish all mixed together.

"He's dead isn't he?" Sam's voice was a mere whisper. He sounded broken and lost. Dean took in a shaky breath.

"Yeah," he answered quietly.

"When?" Sam asked timidly.

"He died at the hospital Sammy. I came out of my coma in the middle of the night and he stopped in to see me in the morning, and when he left my room," his voice trailed off. "You found him collapsed on the floor in a room a couple doors down from my room. They tried to save him, but he was gone." Sam could see in his brother's eyes that Dean still missed their father fiercely. Sam's mind flickered memories like an old movie as images and voices filled his head. Dean watched Sam get this far off look in his eyes and knew his brother was remembering something.

"The demon," Sam began. Dean cast a worried glance up and down the hallway to make sure no one heard Sam talking about demons.

"Let's go in your room Sammy. This isn't a conversation for a hallway." Sam allowed himself to be led to his room. He felt in a fog.

"The demon killed him," Sam hurriedly spoke as Dean closed the door to his room. "A bargain of some sort, right? To make you better. To save you." Dean nodded solemnly. The whole idea of what his father had done never had set well with him, and he knew it never would. Sam wanted to be strong, but it was a fresh wound and for him his father had just died. His grief wasn't old and dulled from two years of adjusting. He still couldn't remember huge chunks and now his father was dead. "I picked a fight with him before…" his voice hiccupped and his eyes filled with unshed tears.

"Hey, hey," Dean reached out to comfort his brother. "Don't go there okay kiddo. Dad and you always butted heads. He knew you loved him, okay?" Sam wanted to believe his brother, but the loss seemed so complete. He began to tremble and the tears cascaded down his cheeks. Dean looked at his little brother and did the only thing instinct was commanding for him to do … he stepped over and pulled his sibling against his chest and wrapped his arms protectively around Sam and held him. He rubbed circles on Sam's back as his brother cried and trembled. "It's going to be okay kiddo," he wasn't sure it was the truth, but Sam needed to hear it as much as he did. "I got ya. Shh…" he cooed. "Sammy, it's okay."

Dean looked over at the door and for the first time realized that Dr. Winters was standing in the doorway, he hadn't even heard the door open. The doctor watching with a soft eyes that spoke volumes. Sam's legs began to buckle and Dean kept him standing as he helped Sam to his bed. Dr. Winters moved forward silently. Dean saw the syringe and simply nodded as the doctor injected the contents into Sam's IV port. Dean held his little brother until the crying tapered off and he felt Sam's head grow heavy on his shoulder. He lowered his sibling gently down onto his pillow and adjusted his arms comfortably to lie loosely across his chest. He pulled the blanket up and covered his brother.

"He'll rest," Dr. Winters spoke softly. "Now, how about you and I have a little chat," he smiled knowingly. "I think you need it kiddo." Dean nodded.

Dean ran a tentative hand gently through Sam's bangs assuring himself his brother was deeply asleep and left with the doctor.

To Be Continued

Well, this chapter was a little longer than the last. I've been getting pretty busy the last couple weeks, so writing hasn't be too convenient, but I am making an effort to not keep you waiting very long. Now, I know I planned on having this story complete at chapter 10 which still needs written, and it may happen, but I'm thinking 11 or 12 chapters total will do it. I'll have to see. I'll try to finish this story completely before January. I should be able to get another chapter out by Christmas; I'll have to see how things go. At any rate, I hope you're still enjoying the story! And, thanks again to everyone who took the time to review a previous chapter or chapters. It's appreciated! Thank you and Happy Holidays.