Author's Note: I don't think I've ever written a fan-fiction that has gotten more response than this one so quickly. And I'm incredibly touched and pleased that everyone enjoyed this story. Thank you, everyone for your awesome reviews.
A second note: I think I might've spoiled the next episode for myself by reading something someone posted on a Fan Board. I won't spoil it for anyone else, but I'm really sad now. I hope the spoiler was wrong! Damn them for posting it so that I could find it and not talk myself out of reading it or else I'd die of curiosity! Okay, I'm done now. Except for the fact that I don't know how I'm going to get that little spoiler out of my head as I finish this story. (Drat)

Chapter 4: (Sam's POV)

For the first time in his life, Dean fell asleep in his little brother's arms. Even as children, it was Sam who'd sneak into Dean's bed and fall asleep near his brother to chase away the monsters that haunted his dreams—never the other way around. It was enough to shake Sam to the core, knowing that Dean had to be seriously hurt.

Sam bit his lip further, as he stared at his hands. They had stopped bleeding a while ago; scatters of small cuts marked them—a remnant of his burst of rage against his own guilty reflection. The cuts would heal quickly, he thought, faster than the damage they had caused to his brother and their relationship.

Dean looked uncomfortable, and even in sleep, his brow was contorted in pain. He lay on his side, shirtless and becoming cold, the shivering and twitching becoming more frequent. Sam had to get him off the bathroom floor; the problem was that there was no way of moving him without causing him more pain. He'd have to wrap his arms around his chest to lift him and there was no way that he could move Dean without waking him first.

Resting a hand on the top of Dean's head, he rubbed his short hair slightly, softly calling his name in order to wake him. When he didn't immediately open his eyes, Sam's heart jumped in his throat. Moving to shift Dean off his legs and flat on the ground, Sam yelled Dean's name as he ran his hands gently down his body, focusing on his ribs. He was becoming more and more concerned when Dean didn't waken.

A moan escaped Dean's lips as Sam ran his knuckles down his sternum in his desperation to wake him. "Dean! Wake up!" Sam fought hard to keep the panic from overtaking rational thought. "Shit!" Jumping to his feet, he ran to get the cell phone that lay on the nightstand where he threw it after the wrong numbered call and dialed 9-1-1.

"9-1-1. What is your emergency?" The man on the line sounded bored and robotic.

"Help. My--my brother, Dean---He's hurt. Unconscious on the ground. I need help." Sam yelled into the phone, running back to his brother's side and immediately checking for a pulse. The light thumping of his pulse under his fingers a reassuring sign that Dean still alive.

"Sir, where are you located?"

Confusion rose as panic overtook him, making him forget the name of the cheap motel that they rented a room from, "I--Um--A motel, it's right down the road from the Asylum. We're in room 211. Hurry. He's been having trouble breathing and now I can't wake him."

The man was calm as he answered him, "Alright, I have the police and an ambulance dispatched. They should be there in about three minutes. Is your brother breathing now?"

"Yes." Thank god, Sam thought. "Dean! Wake up!" He tried again, this time shaking his shoulders. Another pitiful moan was the only response. As his breathing became more labored, Dean's lips started to turn blue. Sam felt helpless as he just stared--there was nothing more that he could do. And it was all his fault. Depression, guilt, hopelessness, and fear all fought for dominance.

What seemed like an eternity later, the sounds of sirens filled the air, making Sam jump from his thoughts. Lightening speed, he ran to the door to wave down the help that had finally arrived.

"HELP! In here!" Sam flapped his arms, waiting until the police officers that had driven up nodded and started to follow before running back to the bathroom and to his brother's side.

Medical emergency personnel soon filled the small motel room; one of the E.M.T.'s had grabbed hold of him, pushing him out of the way as his partners soon strapped Dean into a gurney to take him to the nearest hospital.

"Dispatch, this is Metro 454. I have a 26 year old male with a possible pneumothorax; non-responsive. Vitals are stable, yet high with heart rate of 121, BP of 180/92. Respirations are erratic. ETA to C.M.C (County Medical Center) about five minutes." The EMT turned to Sam, "Are you coming with us?"

Sam could only nod, his hand covering his mouth to keep from screaming in frustration and fear. He jumped in passenger seat where he was pushed. The sirens flashed and the ambulance was on it's way, speeding down the road at a speed that Dean only attempted in the blackest and quietest of nights.

And as the sirens filled the night air, Sam prayed.

To Be Continued…

Author's Note: Wow. I think this story has gotten away from me… Oh, well, more angst ahead.

Please review.

Oh, and I think I might use a little part of the spoiler I heard about 'cause I can't get it out of my head. Sorry in advance if you wanted to be surprised.