A/N: I just want to say big, huge thanks to everyone that has taken the time to read and review. I am grateful that everyone that has read has enjoyed. There are only two more to go after this one, so hang on for the rest of the ride!

You have all been awesome!

Chapter 25

Sam watched in sheer astonishment as Dean started twitching in front of him while his lips were turning a deathly shade of blue. He'd heard Harrison scream at his partner to drive faster and suddenly felt the ambulance lurch left and right as Charlie, the partner that now had a name, weaved in and out of traffic at a ridiculous rate of speed doing exactly what Harrison had ordered him to while Harrison himself tried to determine the reason for Dean's sudden lack of air intake. It took all of three seconds for him to realize Dean wasn't twitching , he was making a feeble attempt at coughing, and was actually choking.

Harrison laid his meaty hand on Dean's shoulder to brace him as he delivered a well placed blow to the center of his back, square between his shoulder blades with the palm of his other open hand, causing Dean's eyes to open wide at the shock of the jolt, only to close again once it passed. The first attempt unsuccessful, he drew his hand back and readied himself to give another when Sam finally pulled his head out of the trance he'd been in and started screaming at the man.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? HE'S DYING DAMN IT, DO SOMETHING!" His voice came out shrieked and panicked, but the medic ignored him as he again pounded his hand hard against Dean's bare back and once again shocking his eyes open as they filled themselves with a pained look.

"He's choking Sam," Harrison said in as calm a voice as possible considering the circumstances as he landed a third fruitless blow and prepared for the fourth, planning on the fourth being the final attempt he'd make before he took more drastic measures. The Heimlich would probably not be in Dean's ribs best interests at the moment, but if he had to, he would resort to it because death wasn't in Dean's best interests either.

The fourth blow that he finally delivered, with a little added force then the first three, garnered the desired results as blood sprayed from Dean's lips and stained the denim of Sam's knees. Sam didn't care though as he listened to his brother suck in a deep breath before he started coughing. Sam finally let out the breath he'd been holding in himself as Dean's coughing finally quieted and he rolled himself onto his back again, his hand reaching for Sam's and Sam taking it as he wiped the blood from his lower lip with his sleeve, intent on not letting his brother's hand go.

"Sam," he said in the loudest voice he could, pulling his brother towards him as he tried to speak, wanting to tell Sam what was on his mind before he couldn't speak anymore. "Promise me something Sammy," he whispered in his ear now that Sam had his head closer to Dean's lips.

"I don't like the way that sounds already Dean," he told his brother, squeezing his hand just a little bit tighter, sensing what was coming was nothing Sam really wanted to hear.

Dean ignored Sam's remark and kept talking, desperate to clear his head. "Sam, promise me you'll finish this if I don't make it. You can't just let it go, you have to end it."

"Don't talk like that man, you're gonna make it, you have to. I can't do this alone," Sam was trying to keep it together but every word he heard coming from Dean's lips only made it harder and harder. Sam could tell what Dean was thinking by his words and tone and if Dean was giving up, was there really any hope left?

"I don't think so Sammy, not this time. Promise me, please."

Sam fought to control the tears he knew were starting to well in his eyes, not wanting Dean to see him break down and cry. No way was he going to admit to himself that his brother was going to die, and making that promise to him was an admission of defeat in his eyes. Making that promise was saying Dean was as good as dead. "Dean, please don't say that. You sound like you're giving up. You've never given up on anything your entire life, why are you starting now?"

"Not giving up Sammy, just facing reality. I'm so tired, and it hurts so much, I just want it to stop, and I don't have a whole lot of fight left anymore," he said with a moan when the ambulance jerked to a halt and doors were thrown open wide as medical personnel scrambled all over everywhere to rush his brother inside, all of them knowing full well that Dean was coming and what he was coming for. That was it, that was Dean caving in.

Sam kept pace with them easily as he followed everyone in step for step, his brother's cold hand still clutched tightly in his own as they made their way through the doors and into the treatment area, not one person giving him a second look as the familiar face of Dr. Matthews approached him, that very familiar pissed off face.

"I told them you can stay, but make no mistake Sam, if you get in the way you will be escorted out, do you understand?" She stood there staring him down with her hands on her hips just waiting for Sam to respond.

"Yeah, I understand," was his answer, eyes firmly planted on the swirling design adorning the tile floor under his feet as if he was utterly fascinated by it.

"Good. First things first, we need to get some x-rays taken. While they are doing that, may I have a word with you, in private?" Not giving Sam an opportunity to answer, she grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him out into the nearest hall, his hand reluctantly pulled away from his brother's as she dragged him out with her. "Well, I knew you'd be back, but I didn't think it would be like this. Let's get one thing straight Sam, the only reason you are being allowed to stay is because frankly, it doesn't sound like you're brother is going to live through the night. I will do everything in my power to make sure he does, but from the sounds of it, it doesn't look very promising. If you think he was poisoned I'm sure you have your reasons that I'm anxious to hear, but that will just have to wait. I assume you can tell me everything he's had to eat and drink in the last twelve hours, right?"

Sam didn't need to even think twice before he answered her. "Right here in this bag. This morning was the first time he's eaten in a couple days, and all he had was oatmeal. God, Dean hates oatmeal, why did I make him eat it? Of all the things I could have given him, his last meal may be one of the things he hates the most. I'm such an …"

"Focus! What else Sam, what else has he ingested?" She cut him off quickly since she really had no patience for his mind wanderings as time really was of the essence, every second precious.

"These pills you gave him, he took them last night and this morning too," Sam produced the bottle from the bag and handed it over to her. She twisted the cap off and dumped them into her hand and stared at them for a few seconds before reading the label on the bottle, the look on her face a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

"Sam, these pills on the top aren't the ones we gave him. There are three capsules here, the rest are tablets, which is what they are supposed to be. Somehow these were added to the bottle, and they're not the pills that were prescribed. To be perfectly honest, I don't even know what they are. How many of what you gave him this morning were these capsules Sam?"

"I don't know, I just took out four and he took them, I didn't look at them."

"Why did you give him four? He's only supposed to take two." She shot him a dirty look at that answer. She was definitely going to get the whole story, one way or another.
"It's a long story. You don't think the pills were what poisoned him, do you?"

"I don't know, but we need to find out, and the sooner the better." She took a few quick steps to the nurses station and handed the entire bottle over before dishing out her order. "I need to know what's in those capsules, and I need to know what's in them NOW!"

The nurse took off without saying a word, rushing to the nearest elevator and pushing her way in as Dr. Matthews grabbed Sam and returned to her patient. Sam retook his place at his brother's side and quickly took his hand back in his own, trying to be careful of the new IV line that had been stuck into it since he'd been gone and surprised at how cold it was considering how high his fever had gotten. Dean breathed a small sigh of relief now that his brother was back, but now that the doctor was back too, he knew the real fun would now begin.

A lot had happened in the few minutes the two of them had been gone, the heart monitor now making its presence known as it beeped away, each hand sporting a needle and tubing attached to it, the one currently in Sam's hand dripping blood back into his body now that he'd vomited up most of what was probably coursing through his veins and the damn nurses had sucked out the rest for their tests that they always seemed to need to run, at least that's how it felt to him anyway. They'd taken their x-rays, removed the bandages from his hand to reveal his mangled mess of fingers that had finally scabbed over but still looked like ground beef, leaving it open to the air to make it easier for them to poke him whenever they felt like it. He tried to listen to everything they were saying but was having trouble concentrating on anything other then the pain he felt in just about every part of his body, different areas hurting the most at any given moment. He was thankful that he hadn't needed to throw up for the last few minutes though, at least that was a relief. He watched as someone came in with the x-rays they'd taken and heard the doctor say something he was sure meant bad news.

"Ok, either there's a blockage in the GI tract, or Sam's right, there's a large dose of something in there. Sam, how long ago was the first thing Dean ate, drank, or took today?"

"About an hour, maybe hour and a half ago, I think. Not much longer then that," it was Sam's best answer since he really had no idea how long it had been. Everything was moving in slow motion and making it feel like hours, or even days.

She studied the x-ray just a few minutes longer and formulated a suspicion before turning around and crossing the distance in just a few steps back to Dean, who had finally broken his gaze with Sam and now just laid there glassy-eyed, staring at the ceiling. His face no longer held any emotion as he stared, almost as if he'd fallen asleep with his eyes wide open, an occasional blink the only thing indicating the he was still alive. She rested her hand gently on his shoulder as she spoke to him in a calm, compassionate tone, a far cry from the one she reserved for Sam.

"Dean, can you look at me," she asked, waiting to continue until his eyes had met hers and she could tell he was listening and comprehending. "If I sit you up a little, do you think you could drink something for me to help clean out whatever is in your system right now?"

He scowled at that suggestion, not wanting to put anything anywhere near his mouth anytime in the near future, but the way she gave his arm a soft, gentle squeeze and looked into his eyes, he could almost feel how much she really wanted to help and before he knew it, he was shaking his head yes before he could even stop it.

"Good, it may taste a little odd, but you need to drink it all and as quickly as you can, ok?" She had already motioned for one of the nurses to start cranking the back of the bed up until Dean was upright enough to swallow easily. She handed him the little bottle with a straw inside, but for some reason he just couldn't hold it, and as she grabbed his wrist and calmly forced his arm back down onto the bed like it was no big deal, she handed the bottle off to Sam, giving him that look Sam had only seen a couple of times but already didn't like.

Sam took the bottle readily and guided the straw into his brother's mouth like he had already done so many times over the last day or so and watched him start drawing in the dark fluid, his face scrunching up at the nasty taste. He struggled to swallow and it took an almost Herculean effort to get the first mouthful down, but he did, and everyone that had been watching let out a little sigh of relief.

"What is that stuff?" Sam finally asked as Dean started on mouthful number two and sported the same discontented look he had the first time.

"Activated charcoal. It'll help clean the toxins from the stomach and intestines."

"Tastes like shit," Dean chimed in after his second gulp before he reluctantly started on the third.

Dr. Matthews chuckled slightly, somewhat grateful her patient was still relatively alert. "Quit complaining. If you'd been here half an hour ago, you'd be enjoying our housekeeping services with a good old fashioned stomach pump right now. Be glad all you're getting is the crushed up briquettes." That actually drew a small smile from Dean, the first real one he'd had in over a week. "You finish that, I'll be right back."

Dean instantly froze when she gave him one more quick squeeze and made to leave, and Sam instantly knew something was wrong. Dean pulled him close and quickly whispered a few well chosen words into his ear before Sam put down the bottle and started following her, fumbling through his pockets for something, anything personal he could find. He stopped her with a hand to her shoulder a few steps away and she gave him 'that' look again when she turned around. Sam got the distinct feeling she didn't like him very much at the moment, and judging by the look on her face, he was probably right, and he probably deserved it.

"Dr. Matthews, Dean's still in a lot of pain, Is there something you can give him to help? He won't admit it, but I can see it in his face," Sam asked her in an almost begging tone with his best puppy-dog eyed face he could come up with. It actually made her soften up to him, just a little bit. She never noticed his hand brush over her pocket and drop something inside as he asked.

"We already have Sam, I'm sorry, but until we know what exactly we're dealing with we just can't risk giving him anything else, and we need him awake as long as possible. I'm counting on you to help do that, ok?"

"Anything you ask," he answered as he turned and went back to Dean, taking up the little bottle and continuing where they'd left off.

"Well?" Dean voiced his one word question as he forced himself to finish the crap he was being forced to drink yet again, thinking he'd rather have Sam's damn Gatorade, then rethinking that thought when he remembered the Gatorade could be the very reason why they were here in the first place.

"She never noticed. If it's her, it'll still be there when she gets back."

He may be dying, but he was still a hunter, but this time he knew he was still the prey too. Dean said nothing, just shook his head and continued mindlessly sucking on the straw and swallowing until he heard the joyous sound that came from an empty bottle, that sound he could always annoy his little brother with if he just kept sucking air. Sam pulled the bottle away and shot Dean that 'Cut the shit' look, causing Dean to produce yet another smile, this one accompanied by a quiet snicker.

"Dude, do you ever quit?" He asked as he just shook his head and smiled slightly himself, the look on Dean's face the first good one he'd seen since they'd come to Rockford.

"Nope. I'm gonna annoy you 'til the day I die," Dean said, and instantly regretted it when he saw Sam's face fall and wished he could catch it and put it back on before it hit the floor and broke into a million pieces.

"That's not funny Dean."

"Sorry Sammy, didn't mean it."

"It's Sam, jerk," he retorted, letting the small smile he'd had return, and let it get wider when he saw Dean's had returned too when he gave him a gentle punch in the arm.

"Bitch," he let out his favorite response. The brief moment of Winchester normality ended quickly as they both visibly stiffened when they saw Dr. Matthews had returned. They looked at each other first, then fixed their gaze directly on her.

"Well, did you get all that yummy stuff down?" She asked through a forced smile, sensing his sudden anxiety and approaching slowly, her hand on his shoulder again giving him that warm fuzzy feeling, the visible sign Sam had left on her helping him to relax.

Dean shook his head in response like a proud six-year old on kindergarten graduation day. His happy face lasted about another twenty seconds, and everyone saw the instant facial change that came over him, both Sam and Dr. Matthews visually seeing up close what was coming when he sat up and turned to his side. Sam moved first as he grabbed the nearest bucket-type container he could find, immediately bringing it to his brother's face before all his hard word ended up being for nothing as it made its way up, out and into the bucket. Sam wasn't sure if he should be worried or relieved as he watched yet another episode of pained retching when he noticed the contents of the bucket had no shades of red inside. That had to be a positive, right? After a few long minutes, Dean finally relaxed and dropped himself back against his pillow, breathing heavily and soaked with sweat, totally spent physically and completely wrecked emotionally. He said nothing, just laid there with his eyes closed, shivering occasionally.

"You ok?" Dr. Matthews asked first as she patted his arm softly. He just gave her his usual shake of the head reaction, never once opening his eyes.

"Sam, can I speak to you for a minute?" She asked him as she motioned to the hall and started walking away, fully expecting him to follow her, which he obediently did. He had no intentions of annoying the woman anymore then he already had. She waited until they were fully out of earshot before she began.

"I'm sorry Sam, but we're going to have to put a gastric tube in place and run that solution directly into his stomach. He has to keep it down somehow, and I'm afraid that may be the only way. I'm assuming that's not going to go over very well, so we may as well get it over with now. I'm hoping you can keep him calm because this isn't going to be fun."

"Whatever it takes, do whatever you need to."

They both returned to the little cubicle sized area they occupied and prepared for what was not gong to be a very pleasant experience for either brother. Sam retook his position as his brother's side for the umpteenth time and waited for someone to deliver the news to Dean, who had pretty much already shut everyone and everything around him out. Sam watched as nurses scurried around him, but went tense when he saw they were ready to begin, and somehow Dean sensed Sam's distress, cracking his eyes open to see what was up since the room had gone entirely too quiet. Sam figured the news would best be delivered by him and started to explain what was about to happen before anyone else could speak up.

"Dean, Dr. Matthews is going to put a tube into your stomach and drop that crap right in. That's gonna make it a whole lot easier on you? Now you won't have to drink it anymore. You just need to relax and let them do it, ok?" Sam started to cringe once he'd stopped talking and the deathly silence sank in, fully expecting stark defiance from his obstinate brother at the mere mention of anyone shoving anything anywhere, but he felt nothing but dejection when all he got was another muttered, one word response.

"Whatever," was all they would get from him. He was done, completely done. He didn't care what they did to him anymore. He just laid there as Sam took his hand again in an attempt to comfort and support him as he felt the cold plastic start at his nose, working its way down the back of his throat and forcing him to swallow, only to gag slightly as it continued it's trek down to his stomach. Little by little they fed it in, and he knew they were close when he felt the cold metal against his abdomen and heard the good doctor say triumphantly "It's in." He didn't realize he'd tensed up as hard as he had until he felt himself relax, the grip on Sam's hand almost crushing it and hoped now they would just leave him alone. He didn't think they could possibly poke and prod and stick him anywhere else, but at this point, he really didn't care. He couldn't even do it for Sam anymore. All he could muster was a small grunt when Sam asked him if he was alright, and Sam knew it would be best if he just left it alone for now. So, in silence they sat, until Sam just couldn't take it anymore.

"Dean, why don't you try to get some sleep?"

"Don't want to," was his somewhat nasal response, and as bad as he felt, he almost wanted to laugh at how he sounded.

"Dude, you seriously need some sleep. Who knows how long you're going to be here. You can't stay awake forever."

"I said I don't want to," he told him again, the irritated tone coming through loud and clear.

"Why not? You can barely keep your eyes open as it is."

"Because I may not wake up if I do," was the blatantly obvious answer, and Sam wanted to kick himself yet again for even asking, the comment leaving him speechless. For one of the very few times in his life, Sam didn't know what to say, and thankfully, didn't need to wrack his brain trying to figure it out either. No, he'd been saved by the very patient doctor that was doing her best to keep his brother alive, and so far was succeeding.

"Hey guys. We're ready to move you to a room Dean. Sam's going to come with me for a few minutes if you don't mind, and we'll meet you upstairs," she smiled at him, but Sam read something else altogether, something very ominous was written across her face and his heart started to race. Dean didn't answer, just waved his hand at her, and Sam got up to leave as orderlies showed up behind her to take him wherever they were going.

"Hey Sam, don't let her out of your sight," he tossed back at his brother as they walked out, and Dr. Matthews let out a little laugh at that, not really knowing what the hell Dean meant by it. Sam watched as they stood in the hall as he was wheeled by, his face turning from stupidly smiling to deadly serious once his brother was out of sight.

"You know something. What's wrong with my brother?"

"Sam, if I said things were bad, that would be the understatement of the century. I don't even know where to begin. I think we better sit down," she told him as she tried to figure out how to tell Sam what she needed to tell him.