Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it.

Summary: Sam's rushed to the hospital, Rhiannon tries to be strong, Harbor kicks Illyrian ass and Oliver gets ahold of Rhiannon.

Enjoy!

Chapter 10

Rhiannon screamed her boyfriend's name as Sam went down, followed by a particularly vile swear word from Dean as Sam's body relaxed into the telltale limpness of unconsciousness. "Taylor, keep her here!" he ordered in a tone that expected to be obeyed, even as he ran at full speed down the bleacher stairs.

Taylor wrapped her arms firmly around her best friend, both of the girls staring in numb horror toward where Ryan knelt next to his motionless teammate. Kirsten moved to stand beside the two girls who were equally dear to her, adding her own restraining embrace to Taylor's. Rhiannon's eyes were huge and frightened, her shoulders heaving up and down as she tiptoed precariously on the verge of hyperventilation.

Dean leaped the fence surrounding the field, bolting to his brother's side. "Sammy!" he shouted, fear making his heart pound too fast as he slid the last few feet on his knees.

Ryan was managing to keep his teammates away, insisting that someone "Call 911!" and "We can't move him! He could have injured his neck!"

Dean's eyes took in his brother's limp form, trying to decide the safest way to preform a quick triage. Sam lay sprawled on his belly, his head turned crookedly to the right. Dean's hands were practiced and careful as one hand probed gently for his brother's pulse while the other steaded Sam's head. The heartbeat pounded steadily against Dean's fingers, even if it was a bit too fast and too hard for Dean's liking. Dean's eyes were desolate as he looked back over his shoulder toward Sam's two favorite girls stood, waiting and worrying.

It was that brief glance, scared and worried even from so far away, that set Rhiannon off. She finally flipped out, losing even the fragile thread of control she'd held onto despite her hysteria. Her terrified, frantic screams of Sam's name rang through the stadium; Dean was actually surprised that his girlfriend's distress didn't have Sam already on his feet and rushing to her side. Ryan's worried glance toward him conveyed that his own thoughts were closely mirroring Dean's own. After a moment, her screams eased to keening cries. Someone had force-fed the distraught blond her meds but her fear for Sam retained a firm hold on her consciousness.

Looking up at Ryan, he spoke, "Wee need to roll him over. We need one more person . . . who do you trust?"

Ryan nearly protested, before seeing the calm terror in Dean's eyes. "Luke, we need you over here!" he called over his shoulder.

Luke and Chip had been haranguing Orsino, as Hastings violently lambasted her teammate. Luke left the job to Chip, and moved to Sam's side. "What can I do?"

"We're going to roll him. But we have to roll him together. Luke, you take his legs and Ryan you get his torso. I've got his neck," he ordered, placing his hands on each side of his little brother's neck. The heels of his palms pressed firmly against the bones of Sam's jaw, while the fingers spread around his throat like starfish. "Okay, on three. One . . . two . . . three."

The three boys moved simultaneously, rolling the unconscious 16 year old onto his back. Sam moaned lightly, his eyes starting to flutter. "Dean?" he asked, sounding a little dazed as he struggled to focus his eyes. Then Rhiannon's cries at last reached his ears and Sam's whole body stiffened. His eyes shot open, the pupils dilated and with a dull sheen that indicated he was only half-lucid. "Sadira!" he whispered urgently, as he struggled to sit up and go to her.

"Whoa, Geek-boy, lie still. You took a hefty knock to the head," Dean insisted, pushing Sam back to the grass effortlessly. "Be still!"

"But Sadira!" Sam protested, still only half-sane.

"Geek-girl is fine and she will be furious if I don't take care of you first. Taylor's with her, remember?"

Sam nodded, subsiding back against the grass. As he took a moment to take stock of himself, he groaned wretchedly. "Oh man . . . my head."

"I told you," Dean muttered, pulling a penlight from his pocket and flashing it into his brother's eyes. Sam flinched away instinctively, and Dean grunted. "Concussion. How's your back?"

Sam twisted carefully, hissing as a sharp pain ripped through his left side. "Ribs," he gasped, "Broken, I think."

Dean tested gently, cracking a half-smile as Sam moved restlessly away from the pressure. "Easy little brother," he soothed gruffly.

Sam subsided, before his concern for Rhiannon spiked again. "I need to see her, Dean. She needs to see that I'm okay. Help me up, please."

Dean nodded at Ryan and between the two, they managed to get the 6 foot teen to his feet. There was wild applause from both sides of the field as Sam was helped off the field, moving mostly under his own power. The coach crouched in front of his star, laying a hand on his knee. "You okay, Winchester?"

"I'm fine," Sam promised with a wan smile.

"He should be checked out by a doctor, though. I'm pretty sure he has a concussion," Dean refuted.

"Paramedics are on their way. You played a good game, kid."

Sam nodded miserably, disappointment over not being able to finish the game warring with anger at the guy who took him out. Looking up at Dean, he demanded, "Who hit me?"

"Our new friend, Mark, who else?"

Luke had gone to get Rhiannon and Taylor, and Sam's girls converged on him then. Rhiannon was sobbing as she threw her arms around her boyfriend's neck and buried her face in his shoulder. "Thank God!"

Sam's embrace was equally fierce as he buried his nose into the fragrant locks of her sunlit hair. "I'm okay, Sadira," he murmured, his hands smoothing over her shoulders tenderly.

She drew back, cupping his cheeks to get a really good look at him. There was a large bump where he'd been kicked just above his temple and there were bright flashes of lightning pain flaring across his gorgeous eyes as he fought against his sudden migraine in an attempt to ease her terror for him. "You're in pain, Sam; you're not okay," she scolded. "Stop being so noble."

Sitting on the bench beside him, she pulled him over so his head was in her lap. Sam sighed as her fingers once again found that pressure point under his hairline, at his nape, that eased the pain away. Her other hand was gentle in his hair and Sam found himself struggling to stay conscious. "Sadira . . . I can't fall asleep," he slurred, looking up at her with blurry eyes. "I have a concussion."

She smiled, bending to kiss him lightly. "I won't let you fall asleep, Sam, I promise."

Sam nodded, relieved, and just let her take care of him for a minute. The paramedics showed up at the same time Kirsten did. She drew her daughter to stand next to her, leaving them to do their jobs. Sam sat quiet while the paramedics did a thorough exam, at least until the lead paramedic announced that he was worried about the muscle sensitivity in Sam's neck, as well as the possibility of spinal injury and he wanted to put Sam under observation at the hospital. "No hospital!" Sam protested, eyes going wide in horror.

Kirsten spoke up, "Yes, a hospital. If the medic says you need to go, Sam, then you'll go."

"I don't have insurance and you know we're flat broke, Mrs C," Sam reminded his girlfriend's mother desperately.

"I'll take care of it, Sammy-honey."

"Mrs C, a hospital bill costs a helluva lot more than a few pairs of jeans!"

"Sam! You're going!" Kirsten insisted, eyes narrowed lightly and using the tone her "kids" knew demanded obedience.

"And she still wonders where their mantra 'Obey The Kirsten' was spawned from," Sandy mused with a silent chuckle.

"Yes ma'am," Sam mumbled, ducking his head meekly.

Rhiannon watched quietly, as the medics loaded Sam onto a gurney, letting him sit back against the propped up mattress. Sam's smile was small as he reached for her, letting his pounding head rest back as she moved to his side. "They probably won't let you ride in the ambulance, but Dean'll take you and Taylor to the hospital. Okay, Sadira?"

One of the medics, a pretty young woman with kind brown eyes, spoke up. "She can ride with you, if you want. Just her though, okay?"

"Thank you," Rhiannon replied, a small smile on her lips.

"Not a problem," she promised, watching the teenaged couple. "So you're Sam, and you are no doubt his very lovely girlfriend, . . . " the question dangled, obviously looking for an answer.

"People call me Stardust," Rhiannon answered shyly, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face.

Sam reached up carefully, to brush a platinum shank back behind her ear. "Don't do that, Sadira," he murmured, frowning at the return of her shy awkwardness.

"Sadira?"the woman asked, watching Sam wince at the sharp jolt of the gurney as it snapped up.

Sam's friends on the team – Ryan, Luke and a small handful of others – came over then, cutting off any reply Sam might have made. "Let Stardust take care of you for awhile, Sam. And don't worry about the game," Ryan warned, punching fists with Rhiannon's boyfriend.

My replacement's pretty green guys," Sam reminded them, punching fists with them all. "It'll be hard on him. You're gonna have to pick up the slack."

Luke spoke up. "Atwood said don't worry about it, Winchester, so don't. We'll take care of it."

Sam's fingers tightened fiercely around Rhiannon's sudden, as a sudden flash of lightning shot through his eyes and into his brain, bringing on a pain that upset the fragile balance between numbness and shocking agony in his head. Rhiannon's free hand threaded through the hair at the back of his head, massaging gently in an effort to soothe. Sam struggled to breathe through the pain, forcing his eyes to focus. "Shit . . . I can't see," he gasped, causing a flurry of sudden activity from the paramedics.

"We gotta go! Call the ER! Let them know we might have a cerebral hemorrhage," the lead EMT ordered, as Sam was laid flat.

Ryan watched his twin go ghastly pale, though Sam's obvious agony and his equal need for her seemed to keep her grounded. The kindly paramedic patted the gurney. "Jump on, sweetie. We'll move faster with you on here with him."

Rhiannon needed no further coaching, lying down beside Sam with every available curve molded to his body in an effort to let him know she was there. Behind them, Taylor was fighting to calm Dean, who was well and truly freaking out. "Give me the keys to the Impala, Dean, and we'll follow the ambulance to the hospital. Star's gonna need us."

Kirsten held out the beg with Rhiannon's meds. "Take this, you might need it." Taylor nodded miserably and took the bag, hoping to God that they wouldn't need it.

Ryan turned to look at Dean. "Go. We'll take care of this punk."

"Leave some for me, Ryan" Dean growled furiously, his ivy eyes on fire with the fury of retribution.

Ryan's smile was grim as he replied. "I'll try, but don't hold your breath."

Dean nodded and let Taylor herd him away toward the parking lot. Ryan turned to look at his foster parents. "You can go, if you want to . . . "

"No, Ryan, Sam has everyone he wants pulling for him. Besides, how often do I get to see a Cohen play sports?" Kirsten teased, the comment obviously directed at her not at all athletic husband and Seth. "Do your best and be careful." Kirsten insisted, desperate to kiss his cheek, but unwilling to put him on his guard. "Your father and I are going back to our seats. I love you."

Ryan's heart swelled but all he could manage was a small smile. Kirsten seemed to understand, returning the grin and turning away. Turning back to Luke, Ryan allowed his heart to go cold. "I think we need to put this kid away. What do you think?"

"Six feet under sound good enough to you?" Luke replied conversationally, "Hey, Winchester's gonna be okay."

"God, I hope so. I don't want to think about what Rhiannon will do without him."

"I'm surprised she didn't flip," Tallman snorted with an eyeroll, nudging Chip with a elbow as though sharing a private joke.

Ryan's eyes narrowed at his teammate. Sam had mentioned that Chip was one of his lead tormentors in the effort to impress the Queen Bee of Harbor School, Marissa Cooper, but it was Tallman who never seemed to stop making comments about Rhiannon, either good or bad. He let his lips curve upward into a half-assed smirk. "I'm not."

"Why didn't she?" Luke questioned quietly. He'd seen Rhiannon's panic attacks before and, in some cases, it didn't take much for her to have one . . . or at the very least start to have one.

"Sam needed her to be strong," was Ryan's only answer.

The first ten minutes after the ambulance pulled into the ER were torturous. X-Rays found a cranial bleed and Sam was rushed into emergency surgery. Rhiannon was left standing in the waiting room, determined to be strong for Sam, since Sam had always been so strong for her. She stayed motionless where she'd been left for what felt like either a moment or an eternity, before Dean's arm around her waist jarred her back to reality. "It's all right, Star-girl. It's just me," he soothed, guiding the shell-shocked teen toward a chair.

"Star-girl? You've never called me that before," Rhiannon informed him, a dazed look in her eyes. "What happened to 'Geek-girl'?"

"I just think this situation requires gentle handling than 'Geek-girl', Star," Taylor explained, with a telling look toward Dean.

Rhiannon blanched, even as her hands clenched fiercely in his jacket. "No! Gentle handling means that Sam's not gonna be okay. And he is! He's going to be just fine. He has to be!" she insisted, eyes going wide in easily recognizable panic.

Dean's arms tightened further around his little brother's girlfriend, trying to stave off the panic attack. "I know he is, Geek-girl, okay? Sam's gonna be just fine."

As if the nickname was some kind of on-off switch to Rhiannon's current state, the platinum haired girl calmed, sagging into Dean's arms. "He has to be okay, De, he just has to be," she whimpered as Dean sat down and pulled her into his lap.

Dean rocked her back and forth, like a father with a terrified child. "He's gonna be okay, Geek-girl. I promise."

Rhiannon completely broke down, clinging to her boyfriend's brother with single-minded determination. Taylor sat close, Dean's unoccupied arm reaching out to tuck her into his body. The three sat silent and scared for the rest of the afternoon and into the night, huddling together for comfort and drawing from each other for strength.

Meanwhile, Luke, Ryan and Harbor were trashing Illyria Prep. And everyone was gunning for the guy who took out their star. Sam may have been an outsider on the team who never quite fit in, but he was still their teammate. He worked hard, ran hard, and played hard. He was always the first to offer a hand to a fallen teammate and he'd led them to more than a few victories over the last two years. The move that took him down had been a low blow and Harbor School's soccer players were out for vengeance.

Sam had been right about his replacement. The back-up center forward was very green, a freshman who knew exactly how impossible it would be to fill Sam Winchester's shoes. Still, he had solid backup in his team. A team comprised of older, more experienced players who knew Sam and were determined to win the game in his honor. With less than ten minutes left to play, Harbor led with a score of 3 to 1. Ryan slammed into Mark at full speed once again, stealing the ball and taking it back down the field.

As he ran past the fallen player, Luke couldn't resist a small smirk. "How's the grass down there?" he taunted cruelly, before continuing down the field.

Duke Orsino and Viola Hastings stopped next to Mark and hauled him up. "Mark, you do know how to piss off all the wrong people," Viola snapped, just as Harbor's fans went crazy as Ryan Atwood was accredited with yet another goal. "What the hell were you thinking? Hitting the guy like that? You must have been out of your mind!"

Mark gave the two a small smile. "According to this guy I met last night, it's all gonna be worth it in the end."

"What guy?" Duke asked, eyes going narrow in curiosity.

"Said his name was Oliver," Mark said at the same moment Chip ran back toward the other side of the field.

Chip caught the name and furrowed his eyebrows, filing the name away and continuing the game. Luke and Ryan would take care of it when the game was over.

Harbor won the game and were awarded the national championship trophy. Luke accepted it with the Coach, holding it over his head and causing a riot amongst his teammates. "We did it, guys! We are the National Champs!" Glancing toward a quiet Ryan, he continued, "I think we should dedicate this win to Sam Winchester. He should be here with us right now. His talent and leadership helped us through an amazing season, culminating in the trophy I'm holding now. To Winchester!"

Ryan nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment, calling out, "To Sam!"

The rest of the team resounded the cheer, celebrating all the way to the locker rooms. They cheered as they stripped, showered and dressed. Ryan stood in jeans and boots, when Chip approached. "Atwood, you may want to know this."

Ryan picked up his t-shirt and asked, "Know what?"

"The guy who hit Winchester?"

Ryan turned to look at Chip, bringing Luke over as well. "What about him?"

"He met some guy named Oliver last night. Oliver's the one who told him to take out Winchester."

Ryan's shirt fluttered to the floor, and he dashed for the door with Luke and Chip hot on his heels. Illyria Prep was preparing to board the bus to go back home, when Ryan smashed into Mark and slammed him into the side of the bus. "Hey man! What the hell!?" Mark demanded, struggling against the other boy's firm grip and unmovable weight.

"Shut up," Ryan ordered, his Prussian blue eyes cold as ice as he slammed the other kid back again. "Oliver what?"

"Excuse me?"

"Easy Ryan. Your sister will freak if you get into any more fights," Luke coached, before turning back to Mark. "The kid you met last night? The one named Oliver? What was his last name?"

"Don't know. Didn't say. Prick manipulated me. Knew I'd never get to touch those girls."

Ryan's lips curled in fury at the offhanded remark, even as Luke continued. "What did he look like?"

"Dark hair and dark eyes. Rich punk, smirking like he knew a secret I didn't know."

"Congratulations dumbass! You just handed my baby sister to Oliver Trask on a silver platter! Without Sam to protect her, Oliver's got a clear shot!" Ryan roared, causing Mark to cower back against the bus in fear of Ryan's obvious rage.

"What are you talking about?" Orsino demanded, his eyes narrowing curiously.

Ryan dug in his jeans for his cell phone, leaving Luke to explain. "Oliver Trask has been stalking Rhiannon Atwood for awhile now. Sam, her boyfriend, and Ryan, her twin brother, have been the only people keeping Oliver completely at bay. With Ryan stuck at the game and Sam seriously injured, there's no one standing between them."

Ryan suddenly swore violently. "Stardust isn't picking up her phone, and I don't have Dean or Taylor's phone numbers."

"What about Sam's phone? Isn't it with his shit? Mrs Cohen's got Sam's duffel bag, right?" Chip inquired.

"Chip! You're brilliant!"

"Don't say that! You'll give me a complex," Chip joked, as the three took off toward where the Cohens were waiting for Ryan to come out. Orsino and Hastings, curious, followed.

"Ryan! Where is your shirt?" Kirsten demanded, at the sight of her bare-chested son.

"Where's Sam's phone? I need to call Taylor."

"Why?" Sandy asked suspiciously.

Ryan's temper was boiling and Luke stepped in to diffuse the situation. "Rhiannon's in trouble. Oliver's here."

"Oliver!?" Kirsten, Seth and Sandy all burst out simultaneously, confused as to why that makes sense.

Luke nodded. "Oliver's been stalking her and he manipulated a guy into getting Sam out of the way. He's here in Los Angeles and apparently Rhiannon's not answering her phone."

A light bulb went on over Kirsten then. Suddenly Ryan's fight with, and distrust of, Oliver made more sense. He'd been trying to protect his baby sister; it had been his job for so long, he didn't know how to ask for help with it. And, even though they hadn't had all the information about what was going on, Sandy and Kirsten had still treated him as though he was a juvenile delinquent. They hadn't listened to him, they hadn't trusted him, they hadn't even tried to understand where he might have been coming from. She fought to smile, even as she felt motherly shame burn hot in her cheeks. "Don't worry about digging for Sam's phone. I have Dean's phone number."

It had been nearly four hours since Sam had been rushed into surgery and he had just been moved into recovery. Rhiannon stood beside his bed, holding his hand as the anesthesiologist worked on waking him up. Bending, she pressed a sweet kiss to his skin just below the bandage wrapped around his head. "Come on, baby, wake up . . . for me," she murmured against his skin. "I love you."

Sam's fingers flinched in her own, causing a bright smile. "That's it, Sam. Come on back to me. Let me see those gorgeous green eyes."

Sam's eyelids fluttered even as he whimpered, "Sadira?"

"Yeah, Sammy-honey, it's me. Open your eyes."

Sam's whole body was eloquent with the struggle it took to open his eyes. "Sadi . . . " he slurred, his green eyes dazed and confused as he stared up at her blurry face. "Wha' 'appened?"

"It doesn't matter," she sobbed, her lips pressing frightened kisses to every square inch of his face. "It doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you're okay. You're gonna be just fine."

Sam nodded, his eyes slipping closed again. Rhiannon let out a sob, burying her face between his neck and shoulder. "I love you, Sam. God, I love you."

His hand never left hers, even as they transferred him to a bed in the ICU ward. His doctors were pretty sure that he'd be fine, bouncing up to a regular ward in a day or two, but the head trauma had been severe and it was better to be safe that sorry. Under the influence of some pretty good drugs, Sam was in and out a lot for those first few hours. Still, Rhiannon's heart soared every time his eyes fluttered open, locking on her face as he smiled and murmured, "Sadi," before slipping back to sleep. She wasn't sure exactly when "Sadira" had become "Sadi" but she wasn't going to ask about it now.

Dean and Taylor were another constant presence. Dean's quiet overprotectiveness and Taylor's constant, comforting chatter filled the room with a feeling of safety and familiarity that eased Rhiannon's frazzled nerves. She slipped in and out of sleep almost as easily as Sam, her head resting on the beside their entwined fingers and her free hand twisted fiercely into the cloth of Sam's hospital gown. It was almost 8 o'clock when Dean shook her shoulder. "Geek-girl?" he whispered, trying to wake Rhiannon but not Sam.

Rhiannon stirred sleepily, looking up at him in a questioning murmur. "De?"

"Yeah, Taylor and I are gonna go get some coffee from the cafeteria. You want a Dr Pepper or Mountain Dew? Anything?"

"A Dr Pepper, please? And something to eat that doesn't taste like cardboard?"

"Sure thing, Geek-girl," Dean chuckled, pressing a brotherly kiss to the center of her forehead. "Keep good watch, huh?"

Rhiannon gave him a sleepy smile and nodded. "Of course."

"Good girl. We'll be back," he promised, reaching back to grab Taylor's hand as they left. Rhiannon smiled at the easy way their fingers interlaced, probably without them even realizing it.

She turned back to the bed, smiling at the sight of Sam's eyes, open and lucid. "Hey you."

"Hi," he murmured, a dopey smile on his face that was no doubt a result of the drugs the doctors had him on. "How you?"

"I'm not the one who just had brain surgery," she teased, moving to sit on the bed beside him as she smoothed her fingers lightly over the contours of his face. "How's your head?"

Sam's eyebrows furrowed adorably as he obviously had to seriously examine the question. Finally giving it up as a bad job, he shrugged one shoulder lightly. "I guess it's okay," he answered, eyes starting to drift again already. "So tired."

"Sleep my love. You're safe here."

"But wha' 'bout you, Sadi?" he protested.

"Dean's keeping a close eye on me and besides we're in a hospital. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Famous last words," he slurred, before the tug of unconsciousness became too much and he once again surrendered to its pull.

From the door, an oily black voice spoke. "Famous last words indeed. Hello Rhiannon."

Rhiannon's eyes flew open wide and she whirled to face the door. Oliver Trask stood there, a gun in one hand and pointed – to Rhiannon's abject horror – at a sleeping Sam. "Unless you want me to shoot him, you're going to come with me and you're not going to make any fuss. Understood?"

She nodded, extracting herself from Sam as gently as she could even as she bent to kiss him goodbye. "I love you, Sam, and I'm sorry."

Coming to stand in front of Oliver, she flinched as he took her arm in a harsh, bruising grip. In an effort to protect Sam and keep him asleep for as long as he could sleep, Rhiannon stifled her cry as he wrenched her around and dragged her out of the room. "Why are you doing this?" she whimpered.

"You are the brightest star in Newport's sky, Stardust," Oliver gushed, his half-crazed eyes scaring as he pulled her along. What she wouldn't have given for a panic attack then, to call some attention to what was happening. Unfortunately, she'd been popping her meds like they were candy since Sam had been taken into surgery and there was too much of the calming agent in her system to allowed her the rescue of flipping out. Oliver continued with his explanation, oblivious to her distress. "You deserve the best of everything, Rhiannon. Your white trash boyfriend . . . "

Furious on Sam's behalf, she leaped to her boyfriend's defense, "Sam is NOT white trash!"

Oliver railroaded over her protests as though she'd never spoken. " . . . and your juvenile delinquent brother can't give you that. But I can, Stardust! I can give you the world!"

"I don't want the world, Oliver. I want what I have. My mom and dad; Ryan, Seth, Taylor, Sam and Dean."

Almost as if his name had summoned him, Dean appeared around the corner. His favorite mother-of-pearl handled Beretta was in his palm and pointed at Oliver, fire in his eyes as he shouted, "Get the hell away from her, Trask!"

Oliver growled and shoved Rhiannon into a room, causing a small scream as she fell into the room and hit her knees. The door slammed shut and Oliver threw the lock. Rhiannon almost choked on hysterical laughter as Dean let out a litany of both English and Latin swear words that would have made a sailor blush. She was pretty sure Sam had taught him the Latin ones; the English ones were all Dean. The door shuddered in its frame as Dean kicked it, trying to get in. "Rhiannon!" he bellowed, furious with himself for leaving her alone and with Oliver for taking advantage of the opportunity.

"Dean, please," she begged, shrinking back against the wall in an effort to present a smaller target as Oliver ranted and raged about the downward spiral of his plan, pacing across the room while he waved the gun around.

The door shuddered with each kick but hospitals were made to be sturdy and Rhiannon began to fear that she was going to die in this room, locked away from everyone she loved by a madman with a gun. Just then, there was another shout of her name, the voice as familiar as her own . . . the voice of the one person in her life who had, in his own way, never let her down. "Ryan!" she screamed, suddenly wanting her twin brother to hold her more than anything she'd ever wanted before. Oliver swore, taking a swing at her to shut her up. He missed, but Rhiannon let out a reflexive shriek regardless.

"Rhiannon! Calm down!" Ryan ordered briskly through the door, knowing from the sound that his sister was starting to lose her grip on reality. "I'm coming, okay? I'm coming, I promise."

"Ryan, he's got a gun!"

There was a long silence, before both Ryan and Dean swore violently. Dean finally stopped kicking the door, dropping onto his haunches and pulling a lock pick kit out of his back pocket. Taking out what he needed, he set to work on the door, all the while wishing that Sam was there. Sam had always been better at the lock picking part of the job. Ryan could hear Oliver yelling at Rhiannon for telling him about the gun and he could feel his twin's growing anxiety. Dean had told him about Rhiannon's constant pill popping, but Ryan had learned young how to read her silence as easily as he had ever heard the things she said out loud. He could feel a panic attack tugging at his twin, but whether or not it would be enough to frighten Oliver into releasing her was another question altogether. "Close your eyes, Stardust. Close your eyes and think of Sam . . . that New Year's Eve night you spent together . . . the weekend at the Links in Palm Springs . . . Christmukkah . . . just think about Sam, and I'm going to get you out of this. I promise."

Rhiannon bit down on a sob, burying her face in her knees and trying to block out the world. Instead, she tried to remember the happiest night of her life. The picnic she and Sam had shared under the fireworks on New Year's Eve, and the feel of Sam's strong arms around her, holding her tight against the evening's chill and protecting her from the evils in the dark that plagued Sam's nightmares. The shine of the lights in that bedazzling sky reflecting off the green of his eyes and flashing across his face in random splashes of color. If she just closed her eyes tight enough and tried to tune out the sounds of the world, she was back there again; that perfect, light-filled night when Sam first told her that he loved her.

Oliver swore at the sudden silence, broken only by the quiet snicks indicating that Dean had abandoned kicking the door down in favor of picking the lock instead. Wrenching her from her corner knocked Rhiannon from her comforting daydream and she screamed, the panic catching up to her at last.

The door flew open then and Ryan was the first one through the door, his blue eyes steel-cold despite the healthy dose of fear that he was hiding deep in his heart, Dean and Taylor only a half-step behind him. Rhiannon was lost to her panic, screaming and thrashing against Oliver's ironclad embrace, her eyes crazed and hazy as though she wasn't really there . . . was lost in the terror that consumed her. Ryan growled at the sight, knowing that there would be bruises on her arms come morning. "You want to let my sister go right now, or I swear to God I'm going to take great pleasure in killing you with my bare hands."

"You're in no position to negotiate, Atwood," Oliver taunted, though it was obvious he was struggling to keep his grip on the thrashing teen. "Look what you've done to her! Her star is falling, and it's all because of you and those damned Winchester brothers!"

"I'm not the one holding her against her will and at gunpoint, Oliver," Ryan argued quietly. "Look, you'll never take her out of her alive, unless you plan to go through my very dead, stone cold body, so just let her go. She needs her meds and she needs to rest. Most of all, she needs Sam."

"I love her!" Oliver burst out.

"No, Sam loves her. He'd give everything and anything for her. There's nothing he wouldn't do to make her happy, be it lying, cheating, killing or stealing," the younger boy murmured calmly, as though it was a fact in which he had complete faith.

"I could give her everything she's ever wanted; money, diamonds, nice clothes, Paris, London, Rome. What can that white trash, piece of shit give her?"

Ryan waved Dean off even as the almost 21 year old moved to retaliate on his baby brother's behalf. "Materialistically, the most he can give is a shiny diamond ring several years down the road. Realistically, even less than that. But he can give her himself. His respect, his understanding, his patience, his protection, his body, his soul . . . but most importantly, he's given her his love, his whole heart, which is all she's ever wanted anyway." There was a pause as Ryan cautiously moved deeper into the room. "She loves that 'white trash, piece of shit' Oliver. You can't buy my sister's heart; her love has already been given, completely and without restraint." Another pause as Ryan took another step toward the two. "Give her to me, Oliver, and all of this will just be over. You need help, that's all. I hold no ill-will and Rhiannon is just too good to be able to hate anyone."

Ryan's hands were on a calming Rhiannon, pulling her back to his chest as Oliver suddenly spoke. "Stardust, I'm sorry," was all he said, before he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger in a move to fast to anticipate.

Rhiannon's eyes widened in horror as blood and grey matter splattered over the floor and across her shirt. She touched a droplet in a shocked daze, before she began to scream anew. Dean tucked his gun into the back of his jeans and moved to scoop her up, out of a shell-shocked Ryan's arms, and turning toward the exit. Doctor's rushed to see if they could save the boy, and security began to clear the room. "Tay, get Ryan out of here," Dean ordered, knowing that Sam was the only one who could help Rhiannon now.

Sam was awake in his room, and fighting his nurses. Oliver's hadn't been able to get very far before Dean had cornered him and Sam had clawed back to lucid consciousness at the sounds of his girlfriend's terrified screams. Currently, the nurses were trying to get restraints around his wrists to keep the struggling teenager in his bed, while Sam was struggling like hell to get to his girlfriend's side. Dean strode in then with Rhiannon in his arms, blasting his brother with a harsh order, "Stay the fuck in bed, and lie the fuck still, Samuel James Winchester! Geek-girl needs you right now, so quit the fit. The rest of you get out!" The nurses balked about being ordered about in their own hospital, while Sam was simply following his brother's orders and fighting to calm down for Rhiannon's sake. Dean lost patience two seconds later, roaring, "NOW!"

Rhiannon whimpered at the anger in his voice, settling slightly as the sound of Sam's voice leaked past her panic attack. Sam reached for her body as the women fled, his hands grasping for her frantically as he felt his own heart start to race at every terrified sound. "Easy Sammy, don't hurt yourself," Dean soothed, even as he lowered the whimpering young woman into her boyfriend's arms.

Sam locked her to him, one huge hand palming her hip in a familiar grip as the fingers of the other threaded into her hair and anchored her head under his chin. "It's all right now, Sadira. You're safe now, Sadi, I promise. I love you, baby; I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you. But I'm here now, and I won't let anything happen to you, I promise. Come back to me, Sadira; please come back."

It was a constant mantra through the night and it was a long time before Rhiannon calmed enough that she could sleep. It was an even longer night for everyone who loved her, as they watched her toss and turn through nightmare after nightmare from her place by Sam's side. Lost in her nightmares, only Sam's voice seemed to calm her, as she endured through being back in Chino, Oliver's suicide, her molestation by Mike, her brother's abuse at the hands of her mother's various boyfriends and her all consuming fear of Dawn's latest boyfriend AJ.

All of the progress she'd accomplished had been destroyed in one foul swoop but Sam refused to let it beat them.

He refused to let it beat her.