I have the next chapter ready for you all. Now, I know that I promised more awake Sam in this chapter, but it just didn't turn out that way. I'm sorry, especially to who is going to be very upset that she doesn't get to see Sammy's beautiful eyes. I promise hon, there will be awake Sam in the next chapter. I just couldn't make it work for this chapter. There is much brotherly fluff between Dean and Daniel though. Hope that makes up for silent, sleepy Sam.

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"Dean…you asleep?" Daniel called softly, the eldest Winchester brother curled on the loveseat of the ICU family room.

Dean cracked open one eye and looked at his brother as he reclined on the longer sofa, his feet crossed, hands clasped together on his stomach. "Nah…can't sleep."

"Me neither," Daniel said as he uncurled himself and sat up then stretched his arms above his head.

Dean sat up and brushed his hand over his face before he ran his fingers through his hair. "Can't sit here while Sammy's down there," he said softly, his eyes turning to the door, staring at it as if he could see right through to Sam's room.

"I know. Why did Dad send us down here anyway? We could have slept there just as well…no, we could have slept there period," Daniel said.

Dean smiled as he eyed his brother. He stood, one eyebrow lifted and moved to the door. "You coming?" he queried.

"Where? To Sam's room? Dad'll be pissed," Daniel replied, rising from the loveseat nonetheless.

"He wanted us to sleep. We can't sleep here," Dean said.

Daniel gazed at his brother then nodded. They left the family room together and headed to Sam's room. Once they were outside his door, they looked at each other before Dean carefully pushed the door open and peeked his head inside, smiling when he saw his father draped in the chair, his head laid back, mouth agape. He scooted through the opening, pushing the door a bit wider so that Daniel could ease through. The brothers quietly crept up to Sam's bed, both watching their kid brother intently, looking for any signs of discomfort or distress. Seeing that he appeared to be sleeping peacefully for a change, the two looked around for places to sit. Dean pulled up the one remaining chair and plopped down into it. Daniel sat on the end of the bed, careful not to disturb his brother. He looked at Dean and smiled tiredly.

"I wish he could sleep this peacefully all of the time," Daniel whispered, his hand resting lightly on Sam's foot.

"He's drugged, Danny. We'd have to carry around a pharmacy to make sure he slept like this all of the time," Dean said.

"I'm just saying the kid deserves the rest after everything he's been through."

"I know. I have a feeling this is going to be the last peaceful night of sleep he gets for quite awhile."

"Yeah…the nightmares will come again. The panic attacks…the not eating."

"The guilt…"

"Huh?"

"The guilt. He'll feel guilty for Randy Gregory's death. Even after what the bastard did to him, he'll feel guilty."

"Shit. You're right. Sam blames himself for everything. Mom, Alisa…now this? He'll blame himself because we love him so much that we won't let anyone who hurts him live."

Dean gazed at Sam, reaching up to straighten his covers, his hand pausing on Sam's chest so that he could feel the steady beat of his brother's heart. His own chest tightened as his mind traveled back to two years ago and Michael Wilcox. Before him, Sam had been the epitome of innocence. Not quite seventeen and the kid had still been a virgin, in every sense. He'd never killed, never had sex. Yes, he'd helped on hunts, doing research and what not, but he'd never gotten his hands dirty with the real heavy stuff. He hadn't been allowed. As much as John had wanted Daniel and Dean to learn the family business and join the foray of hunting as early as possible, he'd fought just as hard to keep Sam away from that part of it. Of course, Sam had to go through all of the physical training, and the weapons training, hand to hand combat, all of it, but he hadn't been allowed to put all of that training to use. Deep down, John had been terrified of losing the one last bit of innocence and purity that his small family possessed. That was Sammy. He was trained to protect himself, but had never had to use his skills as he'd had a father and two older brothers who made sure that he was protected and sheltered.

He'd never had to use his skills until Michael Wilcox had come along. That's when Sam had had his innocence stolen away. That's when he'd had to make his first kill. What made it so much worse than either of his brother's, or his father's for that matter, was the fact that when Sam had caused the death of Wilcox, the monster had merely been a man. A human. His first kill had not been a supernatural being. Wilcox hadn't become that until after he'd died. So, Sam had lost his hunting virginity that fateful day. No, he'd had it stolen away, forced to kill the man who had planned to rape and kill him. And the kicker in that whole debacle? Sam had felt guilty. Not for actually killing Wilcox, but for not feeling bad about it. Dean gave a quiet, sad chuckle at that one, Daniel looking at him curiously from the end of the bed. Dean shook his head, thinking about how Sam had felt bad for not feeling bad. Crazy, mixed up kid. Daniel looked away from his weird ass brother and leaned back on the bottom of the bed, resting his head on his hand, his elbow pressing into the mattress. The faraway look was back in Dean's eyes and the eldest sibling wondered just where his mind was.

Dean tuned out his brother's gaze as his mind went back to Sam and Michael Wilcox. They had finally taken care of the bastard and then the work had begun on getting Sam back to them. It'd taken a long time, but Sam was strong and resilient and he'd finally gotten over the trauma, for the most part. He had his girl and his family and he had been happy. Then, a year after Michael Wilcox, his freaking, fucked up son, Trenton had come along to screw everything up again. By that time, Sam had done the deed with Alisa, and the kid was so in love he practically floated. Then, that horrible night in the park, Trenton Wilcox had stolen the love of Sam's life away, nearly killing Sam too. In a way, he had killed Sam that night. A part of Sam had died along with Alisa, and Dean cringed at the fact that his baby brother would never get that part of himself back again.

Trenton Wilcox had done horrible things to Sam when he'd taken him, stealing more of Sam's innocence away, in the end forcing Sam to kill him. The kid had proven that he was more than capable that night, and it had broken all of their hearts to know how he'd had to prove it. Sam had been lost, and really whom was Dean fooling? They'd all been lost after that for quite some time. Then, just like before, Sam had recovered, his nightmares diminishing, the boy proving just how strong he was. Then had come that night when Sam had handed John a simple piece of paper. A letter that would change all of their lives, again. A letter that said Sam would be leaving them to go to school where they couldn't be there day and night to watch over him, to make sure he was protected. John had not wanted him to go, but he couldn't deny the kid what he wanted. Maybe before the Wilcox's had intruded in their lives, it would've been different. Sam and John hadn't done much except fight before, and Dean was certain that John would have never let the kid go to Stanford without a fight. He'd probably have told Sam that if he left, to never come back. But, he had let Sam go, reluctantly. Then Randy Gregory had happened.

Sam had been so happy, even talking about a girl who he was kind of crushing on. And wasn't that a huge step in the right direction. After Alisa, the family had thought that Sam may never find someone again. He was so sure that he was responsible for Alisa's death and had once said that he'd never fall in love again. He'd said it would be too dangerous for anyone to get close to him. Then he went to Stanford and met some girl. He'd never said her name or how he'd met her, but Dean could tell the kid was smitten. Then they'd gotten that phone call. The one from Sam's friend and a whole new nightmare had begun. A nightmare that hadn't yet run it's course. Randy Gregory was gone, but they still had the nightmares and panic attacks to look forward to. The sleepless nights and the days spent trying to get Sam to eat, to drink, to live.

Dean was so damned tired of all of this. He was sick to fucking hell with all of the big bads out there coming after his sweet, softhearted little brother. His baby brother who felt guilty after having to kill something that was dead set on killing him. It wasn't fucking fair. Sam should never have to feel the kind of pain that had been forced on him so many times. Nobody should have to feel that kind of pain, but Sam was special. And not just because he was Dean's little brother either. Dean could feel it, could see it every time he looked at Sam, or whenever Sam smiled or laughed, or even cried. There was something special about him. Something that put him in a class all his own. Dean knew this with every fiber of his being, and he knew that his father and brother felt it too. They'd felt it the first time they'd ever laid eyes on the wiggly, pink little being with the thick mop of dark, curly hair all those years ago. Felt it the first time the little eyes had fallen on them, the perfect little lips curling into a smile, little spit bubbles popping out as the kid had gurgled happily.

Dean felt tears well in his eyes as he remembered the first time those sweet little fingers had wrapped around his finger. That had been the day he'd devoted his life fully and completely to that little bundle of absolute, pure happiness. Dean had seen the same look in his big brother's eyes when Sam had latched onto his finger, the two sharing a look that said it all. This is OUR little brother and nobody is ever going to hurt him without paying a very dear price. And they'd kept that promise.

"Hey…you okay?" Daniel's concerned voice called softly, and Dean blinked the tears away, looking up at his big brother with a warm smile.

"Yeah…just remembering," he said, his gaze shifting to Sam's pale, peaceful face.

Daniel nodded and followed Dean's gaze, his own eyes softening as he watched Sam sleep. "He always looks so young when he sleeps," he whispered affectionately.

"He's friggin' adorable," Dean said, clamping his mouth shut tight when he realized what he'd said. He looked over and cringed at the look of amusement on Daniel's face.

"Adorable, huh? Such a manly word, little brother," Daniel said with a soft chuckle.

"Uh…I…," Dean stammered, his face red. He narrowed his eyes, and glared at his amused brother. "If you tell him, or anyone else, that I said that, I'll kick your scrawny, big brother ass!" he hissed.

"Awww, Deanie…you are just so adorable! Makes me want to just get up and pinch your adorable widdle cheeks," Daniel cooed, moving his leg as Dean struck out at him.

"You're going to wake Dad up and then the shit will really hit the fan," Dean warned, unable to keep a grin from his lips.

Dean made to say something very witty, but a sudden yawn assaulted him and the perfect remark he'd had been ready with flitted away, never to be seen again. His eyelids were becoming heavy and he looked up to see that Daniel was looking a bit on the exhausted side too. He shook his head, yawing again and chuckling lightly when Daniel let out one of his own. "Let's get some sleep," he said as he rested arms on the bed and laid his head on them, getting as comfortable as the plastic chair would allow.

"Yeah…we better, before the old man wakes up," Daniel said in reply.

"Night, Danny," Dean said, his voice already sounding like he was halfway asleep.

"Hey, Dean?" Daniel whispered.

Dean lifted his head and looked at Daniel. "Yeah?" he said.

"He'll be okay. You know that, right?"

Dean glanced at Sam then back at his older brother, smiling as he gave his answer. "Yeah…I know. I just hate that he has to go through this again, that's all."

Daniel nodded, his eyes bright all of the sudden. "I know…me too. Poor kid. He's never hurt anyone his whole life, and this is what he gets for it."

Dean looked up at Sam, his throat constricting as Sam let out a soft whisper of breath as he turned his head to the side. He turned back to Daniel then rested his head on his arms once again. Daniel watched both of his brothers for a moment before he laid back on the mattress, his legs dangling over the side. He put one arm under his head and closed his eyes. Soon, both brothers were sound asleep, the knowledge that Sam was near allowing their harried minds to finally rest, both knowing that the peace wouldn't last for very long.

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John awoke suddenly, the man coming up from the chair, his eyes skirting around the room in a panic. He relaxed when he saw Dean and Daniel zonked out, surrounding their baby brother, just as he had suspected they would be. He knew that they'd never be able to stay in the family room with Sam right down the hall. The only reason he had sent them there was so that he could have a little bit of time alone with his baby boy. Sure, he'd been asleep the entire time, but he'd had Sam to himself nonetheless. It was always Daniel, Dean and Sam. The three were seldom far away from each other and it was very difficult for John to get any time alone with any of them. The nine months that Sam had been away at Stanford had afforded him the opportunity to get alone time with his older boys, but the second Sam was with them, they were inseparable. He cherished any time he had alone with his youngest, even if it was in sleep.

John walked quietly to the end of the bed and brushed his fingers softly through Daniel's short hair before he moved around the bed to Dean. One arm had fallen from the bed and dangled next to Dean's side and John knew it'd give him heck if he left it that way. He bent and lifted the arm, resting it back on the bed, giving it a gently squeeze. He went back around the bed and stood over Sam, smiling down at him affectionately. His baby, his sweet Sam. How could he have ever fought with the kid? How could he have ever thought negative things about him? How could he have ever considered Sam the weak link in their family when in reality, Sam was the glue that held them all together. What a fool he'd been. It'd taken the Wilcox monsters to show him what a treasure Sam was. Of course, he had always loved Sam, but had thought him weak…soft. He'd never been so wrong in his whole life.

John reached down and lovingly cupped Sam's cheek, smiling as the boy leaned into the touch. He gazed at all of his boys, feeling like the luckiest man alive. He had three wonderful, strong and unique sons. How could he ask for anything more? He pulled away from Sam and sat again. He let the soft pull of sleep take him away, secure in the knowledge that Sam was safe. That all of his boys were safe.

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That's it for this chapter. More to come.

Cindy.