okay, sorry this took so long, but it was a bad weekend, had to take son to the ER, and then my wordfile with all my stories somehow got damaged and after about 15 hours of trying to fix it, i had to reformat the whole computer...so, hopefully everyone enjoys!! thanks for reading and reviewing, bambers;)

Chapter Twelve

Dean barged through the double doors of the emergency room, gripping firmly around Sam's waist with his good hand, and dragging his younger brother into the hospital. Sam's arm hung loosely around Dean's neck, his head resting on Dean's shoulder.

"My brother needs help," he hollered, not caring if he drew attention to himself or Sam. "He's not breathing."

Several nurses and a young female doctor rushed toward them.

"Get a gurney," the doctor ordered, taking charge of the situation. Almost instantaneously, someone came forward with one, and they lifted Sam onto it.

Someone quickly checked for a pulse and heartbeat beat. "No pulse, doctor. No respirations."

"Code blue," someone called.

The doctor's authoritative voice cut through the din. "CPR STAT. Room four."

Placing a mask over Sam's mouth and nose, a nurse started squeezing the reservoir bag in rhythmic precision as a male nurse did chest compressions.

Dean followed as they rushed Sam to the exam room, listening and watching the flurry of activities, performed to save Sam's life. So many things were happening all at once, Dean's mottled brain had a hard time taking them all in. The nurses and doctor called out things in rapid succession, working together like a well-oiled machine.

"What happened, sir?" A triage nurse asked with pen and clipboard in hand, ready to take down a report of the incident. "When did he stop breathing?"

"Just stopped . . . almost made it . . . . and he just stopped," Dean mumbled, his terrified gaze never leaving his brother for a moment as the triage nurse continued to besiege him with questions he barely heard.

"Get his vitals and hook him up to a heart monitor," the petite blonde doctor dictated. "Hang a bag of O negative on the rapid infuser, then type and cross to match."

"BP 95/50. Pupils equal and reactive to light," A nurse relayed the information to the doctor.

"Multiple third degree burns, multiple lacerations to the chest and abdomen."

The doctor moved to stand at Sam's head. "Marlene, laryngoscope, 7.0 endotracheal tube, and suction." She elevated Sam's head, and opened his mouth. "Okay, suction."

Marlene quickly complied, suctioning Sam's mouth. The doctor grasped the laryngoscope in her left hand, spreading Sam's lips with her right, and inserted the blade, lifting upward and forward. "Okay, I'm in, bag him, and start on 100 oxygen."

Grabbing the stethoscope from around her neck, the doctor listened to each side of Sam's chest, then nodded to Marlene. Marlene wrapped adhesive tape around the tube, across Sam's cheek and around the back of his head fastening the other end of the tape around the tube.

"Crackles bi-laterally, possible pneumonia."

"Blunt force trauma to the stomach," the male nurse said. "Abdomen, rigid and distended. Possible internal bleeding."

"I need a portable chest x-ray, and we need to control this bleeding, and get him up to the OR," the doctor ordered, and several nurses hurried to comply. "Mark, who's on call in surgery?"

"Dr. Winestaff," the tall, brown-hair male nurse replied.

"Have him paged to the ER STAT."

The male nurse hurried to the phone and did as the doctor asked.

A few seconds later, Dean heard Dr. Winestaff's name being paged over the hospital intercom.

So engrossed in the life and death drama being enacted before him, he didn't notice the gray-haired female nurse speaking to him until she touched his arm.

"Are you all right, sir?" She studied him carefully. "You really need to come with me. You can't be in here." Her hand closed authoritatively on his arm. "I think we should have a doctor take a look at you."

Dean shook his head, never taking his eyes off Sam. "Not goin anywhere till I know my brother's gonna be okay."

"They're doing everything in their power to save your brother's life. Now let's take care of you."

"My job to save him," Dean mumbled, more to himself then to her. "Shoulda protected him better."

"Ventricular tachycardia," came an urgent voice.

"Defibrillator."

The male nurse handed the doctor two paddles, then squeezed clear gel on them. The doctor rubbed them together, held them over Sam's chest, and waited.

"Charging."

"Clear," the doctor hollered, and everyone stepped back from Sam as she delivered the shock.

Dean heard a strange thunking sound and Sam's back arched off the table.

The blonde doctor, turned her head and looked at the heart monitor. "Asystole . . .charge it again."

"Charging."

Hearing the steady buzzing of the heart monitor, Dean glanced at it, and saw a flat white line racing across the screen. Dean pushed away from the wall holding him upright, and limped toward his brother. The older nurse grabbed his arm, but he forcefully shrugged her hand off. "Come on, Sammy, fight for me. Don't you dare die."

"Get him out of here," the doctor shouted, not looking away from Sam.

"I'm tryin' Doctor Baker."

"Clear." Doctor Baker pressed the paddles against Sam's chest, delivering another shock.

Sam's back arched off the table again, then his body relaxed.

"Normal sinus rhythm," Mark said, and took the paddles from Doctor Baker.

"Okay, let's get him up to the OR."

"There ya go, Sammy, knew you could do it." Dean sighed in relief, knees buckling, he dropped to the floor, the last of his strength giving out. The room faded to a darkened blur, and Dean squinched his eyes, trying to stay awake. Weakly grasping the older nurse's hand, Dean glanced up at her. "D-don't let Sammy die — please don't let him. . . ." Dean's voice trailed off as his eyes slid closed, finally succumbing to his own injuries.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"You can't kill evil, Dean, it always comes back. Always." Charlie tightened his grip on Sam's hair, yanking his head further back, and pressing a knife to his throat. "You should know that by now."

Shackled to the wall, mouth gagged, Dean viciously fought against the metal restraints around his ankles and wrists, trying desperately to break free and save Sam.

Long curved metal prongs, Charlie laughingly called witch's spiders, hung suspended from the ceiling, clawed into either side of Sam's belly, and kept him upright even as Sam's knees buckled. Charlie jerked upward on the witch's spiders, and a scream escaped Sam's trembling lips as blood spilled from the deep gouging wounds. "Should've salt and burned me when you had the chance." Charlie chuckled maliciously. "Although I have to say I'm glad you didn't cause then I would never have gotten to see your face as I did this."

Charlie's gripped onto Sam's hair once more, and slashed Sam's throat open. Terrified, Sam's cry turn to a grotesque gurgling, gasping sputter as blood spilled down his chest. His body convulsed as he struggled to breathe. Sam's dull hazel eyes pleaded with Dean to help him, and then they slid closed, his body going limp, head drooping forward.

"Sammy!" Dean screamed, jolting forward in the hospital bed, searching around wildly for his brother, and a nurse who'd just walked into the room jumped, startled by the sudden outburst.

Oh, God, it was just a nightmare. Dean's body trembled as he wiped the sweat from his brow, then raked his hand through his damp hair, letting out a deep sigh of relief."Where's my brother? Is he okay? I wanna see him now."

The pretty young nurse with short wavy black hair, and sparkling gray eyes, rushed toward him, and placed a hand on his arm. "Calm down, sir, let me get your vitals, then I'll get the doctor for you."

"Don't think you understand." Dean glared, shrugging her hand away, he started to get out of the bed. "I'm gonna see him now, even if I have to tear this hospital apart to find him."

She hesitated for a moment, biting at her lower lip, and then nodded. "All right, I'll go get Doctor Baker if you promise to stay in bed."

Dean reluctantly agreed, leaning back against the pillow. The nurse left, promising she'd be back shortly with the doctor.

The moment the door closed behind her, Dean pulled off his covers, sat up, briefly noticed the cast around his leg, and slowly got out of bed, cringing as his put pressure on his injured foot. Grabbing hold of the metal IV stand with his uncasted hand, Dean used it as a makeshift crutch, and hobbled around the room searching for his clothes. Damn it, what the hell would they have done with my clothes?

The door creaking open, ended his fruitless search, and Dean swung to look at the doctor who had taken care of Sam.

"I heard you were awake." She glanced up from the clipboard she was holding, and noticing Dean was out of bed, she frowned. "Sir, you need to be in bed." The no-nonsense look in her dark green eyes, told Dean she wasn't going to take no for an answer. Setting her clipboard down on a table, she marched to Dean and carefully help him settle back into the hospital bed. "My name is Doctor Baker and I took care of your brother when you came into the ER yesterday. And your name is?"

Dean thought for a moment, trying to recall the name on his current fake driver's license and credit cards. "Dean Macmillan. . . . How's my brother?" Dean unconsciously held his breath waiting for her to respond.

Doctor Baker stared at him for several long seconds as if trying to figure out what to say. When she finally spoke, her voice was strong and authoritative. "Your brother is in the ICU right now. Complications arose from loss of blood due to his injuries and from pneumonia. Your brother went into cardiac arrest twice on the operating table, but we were able to stabilize him." She drew in a breath, and continued. "His spleen ruptured due to blunt force trauma, but Doctor Winestaff was able to successfully remove it."

As the doctor continued to speak, she examined Dean, first checking his blood pressure, listened to his heart and lungs, then took his temperature. "He is scheduled to undergo surgery in about an hour to repair the damage caused by the third degree burns."

Dean swallowed hard, his head swimming with all the information she was throwing at him. "How do they do that?" he managed to choke out, his voice low and strained.

"They'll take skin from a donor site, probably his thigh, and graft it to the burned areas."

Hearing what they planned to do to help his brother, Dean's stomach churned, tears stinging his eyes. "I need to see him."

"That's not possible at the moment, Dean. They're prepping him for surgery."

Dean grabbed her arm, eyes beseeching, he pleaded with her. "Please, even if it's just for minute. I have to know he's gonna be okay."

"I'm sorry, we can't risk any sort of cross-contamination. I promise, we'll let you know as soon as he is in recovery."

Doctor Baker headed to the table, grabbed her clipboard, wrote down Dean's vitals, and turned to look at him. "Look, I know you're worried about your brother, but you really need your rest." She flipped through the pages of Dean's chart, and shook her head, her long blonde ponytail swishing back and forth. "You lost a fair amount of blood, and just underwent surgery yourself to repair the damage to your hand, wrist, and knife wound to your shoulder. Not to mention the puncture wound and broken metatarsal bone in your foot."

"Don't care about that . . . only care if Sammy is gonna be okay."

The doctor gave a curt nod of her head as she eyed Dean. "I thought you might say that, but you really need to start caring about getting better because your brother is going to need you to be strong for him as he recovers." She took several pamphlets off the clipboard, strode to Dean, and handed them to him. "These pamphlets will help explain your brother's treatment and also will prepare you for after he is released from the hospital. Burn victims and victims of extreme violence tend to suffer physical, mental and emotional effects from their injuries. Sam is going to need you more than ever before, and that means you have to take care of yourself now so you can be there for him."

"I'll try." Dean stared at her, teeth clenched, the muscle in his cheek jerking as he angrily thought of the man who had so viciously tortured Sam. The nightmare Dean had came back to him full force. Sam would never feel safe if he knew there was the possibility of Charlie's spirit coming back to finish what he had started. I have to salt and burn Charlie's bones, and I have to do it before Sam gets out of the hospital.

"I need my cell phone."

"Cell phones are not permitted in the hospital, but I'll have them turn on a phone for you." Doctor Baker turned to leave, but then stopped and said, "By the way, the police have been here twice, and said they would be back sometime tonight or tomorrow to take a report."

"Thanks." Dean tried to smile, but failed miserably, his lips pressed against his teeth in a grim line, brows drawn into a deep scowl. "Good to know."

"You're welcome." She turned and headed out the door, shutting it behind her.

Damn it, we are so screwed, Sammy.