Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters …

Author's Note: Yes, my muse has returned and I'm finally back on track with this story – or it may have something to do with the copious amount of chocolate I've just consumed. As always, I cannot find words that express enough how much I appreciate the reviews. They are inspiring me to keep writing.

Obstruction

Chapter 10

Dean paced impatiently, his boots wearing a beaten path on the stained linoleum waiting room floor. He put his own tiredness aside as he walked, momentarily absorbed by the repetitive motion. The glass sliding door swished open, and he stopped, raised his eyes, searching, hoping for answers. His shoulders slumped as another name was called.

He glanced across at Bobby who hadn't moved from his uncomfortable position on the plastic chair, surrounded by anxious relatives, whining kids and a couple of insolent teenagers. Bobby retained his position despite the jostling, knockings and noisy commotion. He seemed oblivious to the surroundings that were increasingly fraying Deans barely held patience. Eating away at his sanity.

Thirty minutes.

They'd been waiting in this crowded room for thirty minutes already without any word.

It felt like an eternity.

He'd been able to stay with Sam at first, when he'd been laid on a gurney and the nurse had stripped him of his shirt. He would have liked to have make fun of Sam at that point, but the humor escaped him and he couldn't form a single word of teasing to lighten the mood. He just stood by Sam's side, fingers clenched in firm firms, worry etched across his brow.

He listened as the doctor and nurse conversed across Sam's prone body, taking readings and shooting off instructions. Sam laid there, compliant, wheezing breaths fogging the oxygen mask now covering his pale face. Dean kept a comforting hand on his brother; on his thigh, his arm, his shoulder – moving around to keep out of the doctor's way. He wasn't letting go.

He'd kept his sure hand on Sam until they'd wheeled him away for tests and x-rays. He wasn't allowed to follow. Instead he'd been ushered out to the waiting room, with the promise of information as soon as it was available. He'd joined Bobby; appreciative of the support the older man gave, just by being there.

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Sam felt the isolation hit him as he was wheeled away from his brother, unmindful of the medical staff still at his side. He wanted Dean to come with him, to chase away the feeling of vulnerability, but he was too weak to voice his request.

He lay on his back, watching through half closed eyes as the fluorescent lights flickered overhead as he was pushed down the corridor. The nurse at his side kept up a one sided conversation, but he heard her voice rather than the actual words. Her soothing voice offered little comfort.

He remained mute as he was prodded and jabbed, too tired to protest the ministrations.

He worried about Dean.

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"Family of Sam Archer?"

Dean snapped to attention, his senses on full alert. Not missing a step, he strode purposefully over to the nurse, making his presence known. He felt Bobby's supportive hand on his shoulder, and he braced himself for the news.

"I'm Dean, his brother …Sam …How is he? …Can I see him?

"Sir, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to your brother."

He walked quickly beside the nurse, unconsciously urging her to move faster. Bobby kept an even stride behind them.

They were ushered into a ward and Sam was revealed as the nurse pulled aside the curtain surrounding his narrow bed.

Dean moved quickly to Sam's side and laid his palm across his brother's limp hand. He was rewarded when Sam opened his bleary eyes, acknowledging his presence.

"The doctor will be back to speak with you in a minute." The nurse stated before moving away.

"Ah …thanks" Bobby spoke to her retreating back as he stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed.

"Hey kiddo, how ya feeling?" Dean asked, searching his brother's face. Sam still looked pale and fevered, but his breathing sounded slightly improved.

Sam fumbled for the oxygen mask, trying to pull it down so that he could answer.

"No. Leave that on …you need it." Dean placed his hand over Sam's fumbling fingers, halting their progress. He pushed the mask firmly back into place over Sam's mouth and nose.

"God Sam …you trying to push me into an early grave? …You gotta get a grip on this breathing thing dude…I mean …you've been doing it for years …and ah …now, you suddenly forget how its done? … …You know Bobby's pretty pissed about that lamp man …soon as we get back, you're gonna have to clean up that mess you made…I'm not cleaning up after you …and Bobby …well, you're gonna have to buy him a new lamp…soon as we get you out of here… "

Sam closed his eyes, letting the sleep wash over him as Dean's voice droned on in the background, soothing and comforting.

Dean stopped his tirade as the stocky middle aged doctor approached Sam's side, unhooking his chart from the end of the bed. After a quick glance at Sam and a look over the chart, he turned his attention to Dean.

"Sam ...my brother ...what ...how...?" Dean fumbled over the question in his desperation to get answers.

"Mr Archer, after the medical history you gave us on your brother, we've run a number of tests, and Sam has had a few x-rays taken. To be honest, I'm very surprised that you didn't bring Sam in straight away for a check-up after that choking incident you mentioned. You had to give him CPR, is that right?"

"Ah, yeah."

"And you didn't think that maybe it would have been prudent to seek medical assistance after such a traumatic event?"

"Ah …well …he seemed okay …I…"

"And, after Sam nearly asphyxiated, you what …you took him on a hunting trip?"

"Well, we… that is …I …ah…"

"And during this hunting trip – I'm not even going to ask what it was that you were hunting by the way – Sam trips and falls, hits his head and slashes open his side?"

"Ah …yeah …but …"

"And Sam briefly lost consciousness after the fall; after hitting his head, am I correct?"

"Yeah."

"So, you just decided to take him home and stitch him up yourself?"

"Well, I …ah …thought it would be …"

"I have to ask Mr Archer, from where exactly did you obtain your medical degree?"

"Ah…"

"Because I've got to tell you, in all my years as a medical professional, I have never seen such a blatant disregard…" The doctor paused and took a deep breath, reigning in his temper.

"You should have sought medical care immediately. When somebody chokes, when you have to administer CPR, those actions can have serious consequences. You don't take them hiking, you don't even take them on a picnic; you take them to the hospital. I'm not even going to start on his other injuries."

Dean felt as though he'd been punched in the gut as he listened to the doctor's words. He listened to each accusation, to every mention of his shameful neglect. He felt the blame and could find no excuse.

"Wasn't his fault …I …I wouldn't let him bring me …to the hospital." Sam whispered from the bed, eyes still closed. He held his oxygen mask slightly away from his mouth, but the words were still slurred and weak. He let the mask fall back into place before dropping his hand back to his side.

"No Sammy …this isn't your fault …I should have insisted…" Dean stroked a hand across his brother's fevered forehead, moving the damp curls of hair off his face before turning his attention back to the doctor.

"What's wrong with him?" Dean asked; an edge of fear in his voice as he looked at the doctor's somber face.

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Author's Note: Thanks for reading – just a few more chapters to go.

Reviews are love.