The ride to Pastor Jim's was painfully silent. After Sam was fully checked over, John rushed outside, making sure I absolutely knew to stay with Sam this time- like I would ever let him out of my sight again for awhile after what just happened- to make sure the shtriga was really gone. No surprise that it was.

We all packed our stuff as quick as possible. Of course, I had to help Sam because his movements were slow and sluggish because he just woke up. I grabbed mine and Sam's bag and we were out the door and into the Impala not five minutes later.

I sat in the backseat with Sam because I needed to be sure for myself that he was actually okay. He seemed fine when I sat in the back with him but I was definitely staying back here with him and making sure nothing changes.

I didn't realize how lost in my thoughts I was until I heard Sam call my name. "Dean?" Sam whispered.

"What's wrong, Sam?" I whispered, giving him a once over.

"Nothing, but what's going on? What happened?" Sam asked.

"Nothing you need to worry about, Sammy." I told him.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, concern covering his face.

Yeah, cause I totally deserved his concern after I almost just got him killed! My thought made me sick to my stomach. When I saw the shtriga over my little brother I felt like I was couldn't breathe, like I was going to throw put. He could've died and it would've been all my fault. The little brother than I promised to protect.

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me." I whispered, finding it harder to talk.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. You should get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay, Dean."

Sam then lays his head on my arm. I tense for a moment before I wrap my arm around my little brother and pull him into my side. I feel how cold he is through my jacket and my heart threatens to beat right out of my chest.

"Sam, you're freezing!" I exclaim.

"I'm okay, Dean." He replies, not moving from my side.

I meet my Dad's eyes through the mirror. He looks down at Sam and back to me before he turns his gaze back on the road. "He's just cold." Dad says.

I know what that means. He's saying that it is not a real big sign of the shtriga effect. People get cold. Nothing to worry about right now. Did that help me feel better? Definitely not. Because I knew one of the signs. Not a big one sure like having trouble breathing a stuff, but it still was a sign. A sign that was telling me to watch for other signs on my little brother. Dad may not be too worried about it, but I sure was.

I quickly took off my jacket, without trying to bother Sam too much, and wrapped it around my brother.

Sam looked up at me with wide eyes. "Dean, you should keep your jacket. It's cold." He tells me as he moves to take it off. I quickly grab his hands in my on.

"I'm fine, Sam. I don't get as cold as you do. You need it more than I do. You keep it." I said. I could tell he was about to protest again but before he could I wrapped my arm back around his shoulders and brought him back to my side.

A few minutes later, and Sam is comfortably asleep in my side. So, right now I am wide awake in the back of the Impala with Sam asleep at my side with an angry John Winchester in the front driving us to Pastor Jim's. The silence was very uncomfortable. I can't go asleep because I am still in a panic of what happened to Sam and what could happen to him because of my stupid mistake.

I lost track of time and soon we were pulling up to Pastor Jim's place. I gently nudged Sam awake. "C'mon, Sam. We're here. It'll be more comfortably inside, kiddo, come on." I gently encouraged him to get up.

Sam slowly opens his eyes, blinking and looking around a lot before his eyes land on me. "Paster Jim's?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, Sammy. Dad said we are going to stay here for a little bit." I told him.

I helped him get out of the car, Sam leaning up against me groggily. "In a few minutes you can go right back to sleep, Sammy, okay?" I felt Sam nod his head against me.

We all walked into Pastor Jim's place. I sat Sam on the couch, while I started walking over to where Pastor Jim and my Dad were talking.

"Dean?" Sam called before I could get too far away.

"I'll be right back, Sam. I'm just going to talk to Dad for a minute." I told him and he nodded as I again started walking towards my Dad.

"I'll be back for them a week tops." I heard my Dad say to Pastor Jim as I finally reached them.

"Wait, you're leaving?" I asked incredulously. "But what about Sammy? After what just happened? We need to watch him! Make sure he is really okay!"

"Dean," My Dad sighed. "Sam is going to be fine. Plus your here to watch him and I just filled in Jim on what happened, so he is going to watch Sam too. Everything will be fine. I just got this hunt from Caleb and it is very important."

I felt like steam was coming out of my ears like they do in the cartoons Sam watches. "When are you leaving?" I ask with my teeth clenched.

"In just a few minutes." He said. "I'm going to check over Sam again before I leave, though." He stayed still for another second before he walked over towards a half asleep Sam. They talked for a few minutes before he walked back over to me. "Like I said, 'A week tops.'"

"Fine." I said. I didn't like it. Not one bit. Sam need us. Needs Dad to make sure he was actually okay, and he was just leaving! He just been attacked by a monster that could have killed him and Dad is leaving!

Dad stared at me for another moment before he walked out of the door.

I walked over towards the door and grabbed mine and Sam's bag. I then walked over to the couch Sam was sitting on, nodding at Pastor Jim along the way, and grabbed Sam's arm and helped him stand up. We then walked up the stairs together and into the room Sam and I usually stay in when we are at Pastor Jim's. I dropped both our bags on the floor beside the door and helped walk an unbalanced Sam to the bed that was the further away from the door.

"C'mon, Sam, almost there and then you can go back to sleep." Once we reached the bed, Sam collapsed on top of it. "Sam, you need to get under the covers, you already too cold." I pushed him as I reached to the start of the covers. We slowly got him under the covers, Sam's eyes were closed the whole time. I ran my hand through his hair a few times before I walked towards my bed. I stopped when I heard a whisper voice said, "Goodnight, Dean."

"Night, Sammy." I whispered back, while climbing into my bed.

My heart broke when I was fully laid down in bed. I almost lost him just a few hours ago. I could've lost my little brother and it would've all been my fault for leaving the stupid room when I knew not too.

I laid down for at least an hour, just thinking before I eventually fell asleep.

o0o0o0o

"Hello?" I call out. I'm alone in a dark room. "Is there anyone here?"

I keep looking around. I walk in circles. It feels like I've walked a mile before I actually see someone crouched down on their knees.

"Hey!" I call out to them, as I continue walking towards them. They didn't respond. "Hello?" I called out again.

The closer I got the more familiar they looked. About a yard behind them I realized who it was. "Dad!" I yell and start running towards him.

When I finally reached him, I realized that he was holding something or rather someone. I looked over his shoulders and saw that it was Sam. Panic instantly filled me. "Sammy!" I ran around my Dad until I crouched on my knees in front of Sam. "Hey, Sam! Wake up!" I say as I lightly smack his check, hoping to get a response. "Come on, Sam! Please!"

"I already tried, Dean." My Dad told me, finally looking at me. "He's gone."

"No!" I yell in his face. "He can't be! Sam was fine! He is fine!"

"No, he's dead. I felt for a pulse. He's dead and it is all your fault! You had to leave him with that syringa just to play games." My Dad seethed at me.

I yank Sam out of his arms, having to see for myself. He's lying. He has to be. Sam can't be dead. He just can't be.

"Come on, Sammy." I whisper as I felt for a pulse, but John was right. There was none. Sam was dead. "No!" I growl and start compressions that my dad taught me a couple years ago just in case. "Help me!" I scream at my dad.

"There is nothing we can do, Dean. Sam was its victim. He's gone. All you can do is live with your brothers blood on your hands."

O0o0o0o

I woke with a start, my skin was clammy and I was breathing heavily. Just a dream, I told myself. Sam's okay. I look over towards Sam's bed just in time to see him sit up in his bed.

"Sam, what're you doing up?"

"Are you okay, Dean? You sounded like you were having a bad dream." Sam said to me.

"It's nothing, Sammy." I told him, not wanting him to worry. "Now answer my question. What're you doing up?"

He had a miserable look on his face. He then replied, "I don't feel too good, Dean."

I am out of my bed without a second thought. I ran straight over to his bed and put my had over his head.

"Crap, Sam! You're burning up!" I give him a once over and grab his hand in mine. "You're shaking too! Sammy, why didn't you wake me?! This is serious!"

"You seemed so tired. I didn't want to mess your sleep up. You didn't sleep any in the car, Dean!"

"I don't care if I haven't slept in days, you wake me up when you don't feel good! What else is wrong?"

"Um…" Sam hesitated.

"Tell me now, Sam." I insisted.

"My chest hurts." Sam whispered to me.

"Your chest hurts? Like to breathe? Does it hurt to breathe, Sammy?" I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice to not scare him. I needed to keep it calm for Sam.

My panic rose a lot more when I notice the slight shade of blue on Sam's lips with the small nod of his head. "Okay, okay. It's going to be okay, Sammy. You're going to be fine, understand?" I ask him and Sam nods his head in response.

I quickly grab his and carry him down the stairs to Pastor Jim.

"Pastor Jim! Pastor Jim!" I call out to him while running to the kitchen with Sam in my arms. Luckily, he is where I thought he would be. "Pastor Jim, you need to look at Sam! He says he's not feeling good."

"Okay, Dean." Pastor Jim said calmly. "It is going to be alright. Let me look at him. "

I sat Sam down on one of the dining chairs in the kitchen. When I sat he down, I went to stand back, so Pastor Jim could get a good look at Sam, but Sam quickly grabbed my hand before I could move too far away from him.

"Stay with me, please?" Sam pleaded, his puppy dog eyes full force.

My heart dropped. Sam deserves someone way better than me. But he's my little brother, so of course I am going to stay with my little brother every step of the way. "Yeah, Sammy. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay right here with you." I say as I move right to his side, running my free hand through Sam's curly, brown hair. It was at that moment that I noticed that my hands were shaking. It wasn't the small, barely noticeable shake either. It was a very noticeable shake, I was just hoping that Sam would focus on Pastor Jim and not feel my hand shaking in his hair.

After I filled in Pastor Jim on everything that went down upstairs he said, "Okay, so we are going to take Sam here to the hospital just in case anything is wrong. They might need to take a better look on Sam's breathing."

My eyes widened in response, obviously Pastor Jim noticed and replied, "It is just in case, Dean. Sam is not doing that bad, okay?"

I nodded, not believing anything he said until I was sure Sam was going to be okay. I picked Sam back up and we walk to Pastor Jim's car and hopped in. Sam leaned on me the whole way to the hospital. He almost feel asleep more than a couple of times, so I made sure he stayed awake by talking to him about anything and everything.

When we arrived at the hospital, they were quick to get us back to look at Sam. They tried to get Sam to leave my side and get on the hospital bed, but he wouldn't budge. It took me getting into the hospital bed with him to do as the doctor and nurses asked.

After that everything went by as a blur. The doctor did some test on Sam and decided to keep him overnight for observation. The doctor said he was going to keep looking over the test. The doctor also decided to give him an oxygen tank to help Sam with his breathing. The doctor said he will inform us when she finds anything out.

Sam fell asleep after a little while, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. I, on the other hand, won't be getting any sleep for the rest of the night. I probably won't get any sleep for tomorrow night either. I need to stay up and watch out for Sam. I need to watch to see if he shows anymore signs.

"Hey, Dean?" Pastor Jim whispers over to me and I turn my head towards him. "Why don't you go relax for a second? You can go get something out of the vending machine. Go to the bathroom. Do something just to get out of this room."

I immediately shake my head. "No. I can't leave Sam. He needs me. If he wakes up and I'm gone…"

"Just for a minute, Dean." He encourages.

I shake my head. I won't do it. I won't leave him.

"Okay, why don't you go get you and Sam something from the vending machine? I'm pretty sure Sam won't like any food this hospital plans on giving him. Run and get him something."

He was right. Sam would hate this food. "Okay," I say. "But just for a minute."

I go out the room and rush to find a vending machine. I try to be as quick as possible. I quickly find it and get and get both of us a chocolate bar. I then realized that I actually did have to go to the restroom, so I make it that as quick as possible too. When I'm washing my hands, I finally look at myself in the mirror, and I did not look my best. My hair was all over the place and my eyes were red rimmed. I have never seem myself to pale and that didn't help the dark bags that I had under my eyes. I looked like Death himself. I quickly turn my head away from the mirror and rush out the bathroom.

When I'm walking back to Sam's room, I see a phone, which reminds me that I haven't even called my Dad to tell him about what happened.

I take my time walking over to the phone. Once I reach it, I slowly pick up the phone and put it to my ear while I put in my Dad's number. It rings a few times, but to no surprise, it goes to voicemail.

"Hey, Dad. It's Dean. I need you to come back here, like now. It's Sam. He's really not doing good. Pastor Jim and I took Sam to the hospital, but you need to be here. For Sam." I finish and hang up the phone.

When I make it back to Sam's room, Pastor Jim tells me that he is going to run to the restroom real quick before the doctor comes back with the news on Sam.

While Pastor Jim is gone, I pull my chair even closer to Sam's bed. He looked horrible. I have never seen him look so sick. And it was all my fault.

Sam's face looked so small with that huge oxygen mask over his face. He was just as pale as I was with matching dark bags under his eyes too. I noticed that his hands were still shaking a little, so I pulled the covers over him further.

I grab Sam's tiny hand in mine and whisper, "I'm so sorry, Sammy. This is all my fault. I never should have left you. I knew better. I'm supposed to protect you. Not be the reason you get hurt. It won't happen again. I promise!"

By the end of my monologue, there are tears burning my eyes. I blink them away as fast as I could, but not before one escaped. Just as I composed myself, Pastor Jim walked back in the room.

"Anything new?" He asked me. I shake my head no, not trusting my voice to say anything.

A couple hours later, the doctor came into the room. "Okay, so the test came back and I have a diagnosis for Sam." She looked at Sam on the bed and then looked back at us. "Sam is doing better than he was when you brought him in. Sam here has asthma." She stated firmly.

"Asthma?" I asked her.

"Yes. It is very common for children like Sam." She reaffirmed.

"But Sam has never shown any signs of asthma before." I inform her.

"It can be harder to tell for some than others, but it is true. Sam indeed does as asthma. And he's going to need an inhaler." She continued talking, but I wasn't listening. Sam could be using an inhaler for the rest of his life because of me. Because I screwed up. I should be the one to have asthma, not Sam.

The next day, we were out of the hospital, Sam attached to my hip as we were walking out. Still no news from our Dad, but I'm not worried about him now. I need all my attention focused on Sam. I had his brand new inhaler in my pocket, because there was no way I was leaving his side, so it only needed to be with me. I studied on how an inhaler works and when I need to use it for Sam. I have the instructions memorized by now.

"You okay, Sammy?"

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam said.

When we get inside the car, I make sure Sam is buckled in good and ready. Then, we were off towards Pastor Jim's place. When we got there, I helped Sam up the stairs and in his bed. I cut on the TV and let Sam watch the cartoons that he loves. I could tell he was really tired from the lack of sleep and the trouble breathing, but he refused to sleep even though it was really early in the morning, saying he wanted to stay up and watch cartoons with me.

"You okay, Sam?" I ask him for the hundredth time that day.

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam sighs.

"You want some breakfast?"

"No, I'm good."

"You need to eat, Sam." I tell him. "You barely ate anything at the hospital. You have to be hungry." Sam shakes his head. "What if I fix you something small?" Sam hesitates for a second before I add, "Please, Sammy,"

"Okay, Dean." Sam finally agrees.

"Okay, I'll be right back." I said.

I looked around Pastor Jim's kitchen. There was plenty of stuff, but not plenty of small stuff Sam would eat. After a few minutes of searching I finally found a box of Lucky Charms.

"Perfect!" I say as a grab the box. I pour the last of the Lucky Charms into a bowl for Sam.

I go back up the stairs and into mine and Sam's shared room and get onto Sam's bed. I went to pass the bowl to him but Sam shakes his head and pushes it back towards me. "Come on, Sammy. You love Lucky Charms." I tell him.

"I can't." Sam says and looks back towards the TV.

My eyebrows draw together. "Why not?" I ask, confused.

"I saw last night there was only left for one more bowl." Sam says like it explains everything.

"So?"

"So," Sam continues, his attention returning towards me again, "I ate the last bowl of Lucky Charms last time. So, this last bowl is yours."

My heart clenches again. He didn't want to eat the last bowl because I gave him a hard time about it last time. Nice going again, Dean. I think angrily at myself. "Nah, it's okay, Sammy. I really don't want it. I'm not very hungry, anyway." I tell him.

"No, I want you to have it."

"But I really want you to have it." I inform him.

"I'm not eating it. It's yours." Sam says.

"Well, if your not eating it, it is not going to be eaten." I tell him.

Sam sighs and turns back to the TV, that's really getting annoying.

"How about this?" I say. "We share the bowl?"

Sam thinks about it for a minute before turning back to me saying, "Okay."

I hand the bowl to Sam and rush downstairs to get another spoon. When I come back to the room, Sam still hasn't touched his bowl. Of course he wouldn't try it until I'm up there to take a bite at the same time.

I make sure to take slower and smaller bites than normal just to make sure Sam gets enough and more than me. We finish and I but the bowl on the nightstand beside me.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Sam asked looking at me intently.

I look at him. "Yeah, Sam, I'm good. Why would you ask?"

"You don't seem very happy. Did I do something wrong?" Sam asks the last part in a small voice.

"What? No! Why would you think that?! You did nothing wrong!"

"But Dad hates being at hospitals." Sam tells him, his eyes starting to water. "He's going to be mad at me."

"Hey! He's not going to be mad at you! I won't let him. I don't want you to worry about it, okay? I'll handle it. I promise you. Trust me. Everything will be fine."

Sam nods at me, seeming satisfied at my answer. He attacks me in a strong hug and I hug him back just as tightly.

"Thanks, Dean."

"Don't mention it, Sammy."

He doesn't need to worry about Dad being mad because of my mistake. Everything will be fine because Sammy is okay. That's all that matters. I will never make a mistake like I did. As long as Sam is safe then everything is alright.