AN: I don't know much about the medical aspect of this, so I am just trying to focus on the basic ideas. I apologize for getting anything wrong.

The cycle of researching and late nights didn't end. Sam hardly moved from the kitchen table, and only did so when Dean came by and put a hand on his shoulder, closed the book in front of him and encouraged him to go with him on a walk through the junk yard or to sit and watch television with him, go target shooting, anything just to get the kid to spend time with him just for a little bit.

As the weeks went by, Dean came less and less frequently into the kitchen to pick on Bobby's cooking, to get Sam to stop researching and move around, make sure that his legs still worked. It became Jessica's duty to go upstairs and check on Dean, she was the one who would go up and encourage him to get up and eat, to take his medication, to go to the bathroom, to get out of the room, to be social. Dean was becoming thinner, and at times incoherent, and disoriented. It was starting to scare her, and she knew it was scaring Sam and Bobby, because they immediately began researching round the clock, and cell phones, house phones and everything that was a method communication was being utilized and quickly.

Mark came by, at Bobby's request, and saw to Dean for a little while and came out and put a hand on Sam's shoulder, which only made Sam tense up, and his eyes that had been frantic turned wild, and at times, those wild eyes dripped tears onto the books he was studying.

After Mark's visit Dean spent several days in bed, too tired to get up and do anything productive, and Jessica was the one who came up and down the stairs and made sure Dean got something in his stomach, and woke him long enough to go to the bathroom, opened the curtains and had the sunshine shine over Dean's pale features.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked on one of her many trips, scaring her. He had been silent so frequently, not even a snore or a snort, or the sounds of rustling had come from the bed. There had been points in the last couple of days that she had taken the mirror from her compact and put it underneath his nose to be sure that he was still breathing, and each time she prayed with all of her might that he was still living, because she had no idea how she was going to tell Sam if it turned out that he had passed away with no one by his side. "Didn't mean to startle you." He said and sat up.

She took her hand away from her chest and gave him a smile, pushed her hair away from her face and sat down in the chair next to his bed. "He's downstairs researching,"

"Ahhh." He swallowed thickly, and she reached over to the beside table and filled up a cup with lukewarm water and handed it to him.

"If you want it cold, I'll go down and get some ice if you want," she said as she watched Dean drink the water greedily.

"No. I'm good," he said with the last bit of the cup's contents drained. "Thank you." He handed her the cup and she took it and set it back down on the table. "How long have I been out?" He struggled to get himself in a more comfortable position and she offered a hand and he waved her away.

"About three days. You've been up to eat and go to the bathroom, but otherwise, you've been sleeping pretty steadily. You feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Just foggy. I think the new meds that Mark put me on is making me tired."

"Mark put you on new medication?" She asked confused.

"Yeah, when he came."

"I didn't know."

"I didn't tell anyone."

"What is it for?"

"Pain." He said not able to look her in the eye.

"You haven't said anything."

He shrugged his shoulders. "No need."

"There is a need Dean. There are people down here that love you."

"Why do you care so much Jessica?"

"Because…you're going to be my brother."

"But, Jessica, I'm no one to you. I'm…"

"You're the brother that Sam idolizes."

"Sam doesn't idolize me."

"He does. And he's down there working so hard, so hard to find a way to save you. He's scared."

"He'll be fine without me. He's a strong kid. I made sure of that. He'll be fine. He has you." Dean said and readjusted himself again on the bed. "You are just what my brother needs."

"He needs you too."

"No. I'm his past. You are his future. He needs to look your way not mine. He'll stay safe that way, he'll…." Dean drifted back to sleep and Jessica sighed.

"How is he?" Sam asked without looking up when she came down the stairs.

"He was awake long enough to drink a cup of water. Mark put him on new pain meds and that's why he's been sleeping so much."

"Pain?" Bobby asked as he entered the living room.

"Yeah. Apparently he's been in more pain then he's been telling us."

"Stupid kid." Bobby said and his eyes looked tired and worried.

"I think we're reaching the end guys." Jessica said finally.

"No!" Sam yelled and stood. "No! My brother isn't dying!" he yelled and began to rant and rave and scream.

"Sammy." Dean said from the bottom of the stairs, hand holding onto the railing, his sweat pants sagging from his lessened physique. His tired, watery green eyes focused on his taller younger brother. Sam stopped speaking and hurried to his brother.

"Dean. Dean you should be in bed." Sam's wide hands gripped Dean's shoulders, shoulders that had shrunken and become thinner than he ever remembered his brother's shoulders to be.

"I'm good Sammy." He said and shrugged off his brother's hands. "I'm good." He repeated and looked at the assembled group of people.

"Sam. Stop. Just stop looking. I'm not going to know what's going on here soon. Mark thinks that it is getting bigger, I wouldn't let him take me to have a scan,"

"Dean….if he thinks…"

"Just wants to see it's growth. It's going to kill me no matter what. I…I…Sam…I want to spend my last couple of coherent days with you, bobby and Jessica, I want to just enjoy the end of my days. When I go, when my mind goes, you can continue with whatever you are doing. I'm going to quit taking the pain meds."

"No. No You can't." Sam said frantically.

"I am. I want to spend my last days knowing what is going on. And I want to be clear. I don't want to sleep the rest of my life away. So, what do you say Sammy?" Dean's eyes were earnest and sad. "Please Sammy."

Sam looked back to Bobby and Jessica, willing them to tell him what to do. Jessica nodded, and Bobby did as well. Sam turned back to his brother, and Dean gave a slight smile and a nod. "Please Sammy." Sam licked his lips and nodded, trying to keep the tears from his eyes and praying that God would send a miracle and save his brother.