Hi everyone. First up THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed! I was so surprised to open my e-mail and see so many comments. I keep forgetting to put this up, but I always respond to reviews and if you do NOT want me to send you a response please let me know in your review. Anyway, I was going to make this longer but decided to break the chapters up so I could get something out there in this lifetime. The end is in sight, but there are a few more things I want to get out before I let this one go. So, without anymore bs from me here is chapter 7!

Disclaimer: I own only those characters who you haven't seen on The WB.

xo SJ

Chapter Seven

Dean's tears had started out as a slow trickle of disbelief but had steadily grown into breath stealing sobs of anguish. A loop of images flowed through Dean's mind, images of all the things Sammy would never get a chance to do. A graduation from college, a wedding, the birth of a child, and seeing that child's life pass. Dean had robbed his brother of those chances. As Dean continued on his guilt trip he finally remembered what he'd learned from the science project he'd done in middle school. By performing CPR on Sammy he'd only made things worse. He'd been forcing Sammy's heart to pump frozen blood through his body. The guilt Dean felt only made his sobs increase until he could no longer catch his breath. He knew if he didn't calm down he'd start to hyperventilate and would make himself physically ill, but Dean just couldn't find it in himself to care. So what if he couldn't breathe? Sammy would never breathe again.

"God, Sammy, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Dean sobbed as he ran his hands through the younger Winchester's hair, pushing Sam's long bangs away from his forehead. Dean, so lost was he in grief, that he failed to notice when Sam's fingers began to stretch, or that his chest was beginning to rise and fall slowly. It was only when Sam took huge, gasping breath, one that nearly drew him up off the bed, did Dean notice that his brother had a pulse. Sam was not, in fact, dead.

"Jesus, Sammy." Dean gasped as he pulled his brother, who had yet to open his eyes, against his chest in a fierce embrace.

"Dean?" Sam rasped, reaching out with his fingers to feel who held him.

"It's me, Sammy, I'm right here." Dean replied as he took Sam's outstretched fingers in his own. Alive again, Sam found that the cold he had felt in the in-between realm had not left him and he felt his body begin to shake.

"Dean, I-I-I'm s-so c-cold." Dean winced as he heard Sam's teeth click together when he gasped the four simple words.

"I know; I'll fix it." Dean vowed. Easing Sam back onto the bed, Dean grabbed the bedding they'd stripped earlier and threw it on top of Sam, adding the comforter from his own bed. With a last reassuring glace at Sam, Dean took off for the bathroom where he turned the shower on, making the water as hot as he could. Returning to Sam he proceeded to pull all of the covers from him only to find that Sam had curled himself into an impossibly small ball.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but this is going to be cold." Dean apologized as he pulled Sam's sweater and jeans off, leaving his undershirt and boxers on. Sam shook harder.

"Dean, I-I-I c-c-can't br-breathe." Sam gasped. Each breath felt as though a thousands knives were being driven into his chest, the pain intensifying each time his body shook.

"I know, Sammy. You stopped breathing for at least two minutes and you've been frozen solid. I'm going to get you into the shower to warm you up." Dean explained as he picked the younger man up, cradling him as though he were a babe. Sam, still weak, let his head flop against his brother's strong shoulder, one of a pair that had seen Sam through some of his most trying times. Aware that Sam would be unable to stand in the shower, Dean stripped down to his own undershirt and boxers and sat behind Sam in the tub, also hoping to offer what body heat he could, as the water rained down on them.

"Dean!" Sam cried out in pain as the hot water beat off his frozen skin.

"I know, Sam, I know it hurts." Dean replied, anguished that he was causing his brother more pain. Sam struggled against his brother's embrace, trying to get away from the water, but Dean held him firmly in place, resting his chin on Sam's head, trying to lend whatever comfort he could. He could feel Sam sobbing in pain, though whether the pain was from the water or from the pain in his chest Dean couldn't be sure, and could not hold back his own tears, these tears of happiness and regret that he was still hurting his brother. So, Dean tried to distract him from the pain, telling him stories from their childhood, asking Sam questions about their adventures, praying that it was working. Dean wasn't sure how long they sat under the stream of hot water but he was aware that Sam wasn't getting any warmer and had started coughing, hard, bone shaking coughs that cam from deep within his chest. Dean wasn't helping his brother.

"Sammy, we need to get you to a hospital." Sam nodded, his hair tickling Dean's nose.

"I-I-I'm just s-so t-tired."

"Sammy, don't you dare go to sleep on me!" Dean cried, sliding out from underneath his brother. Sam's eyes were mere slits, but when Dean yelled at him, Sammy listened. It had been that way all their lives. Dean yelled only when it was serious, when Sam needed to pay close attention.

"There, that's better." Dean said more softly as Sam opened his eyes dramatically. "Just keep your eyes open for me, Sammy. You can do it." Dean assured as he pushed Sam's wet hair out of his eyes. Sam blinked at his older brother, too frozen and tired to nod. Dean, with a final look at his brother, moved quickly into the other room where he shed his wet clothing for a dry, peat colored sweater and jeans, grabbing more clothing for Sam. In the bathroom Dean was distressed to find that Sam had drifted off to sleep again, his mouth under the water, nose following closely.

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean cried as he hauled the taller man out from the tub. Sam leaned helplessly against his brother, who was trying to dry him off.

"Sammy, I could use a little help here." Dean ground out, trying not to drop his brother and still dry him quickly. Sam couldn't afford to stand around soaking wet. Sam's only response was to drop down on the covered toilet seat, breathing raggedly. Dean studied Sam for a moment, deciding just how much trouble Sam was having with his breathing.

"I. . .I'm. . .okay,. . .Dean." Sam comforted, catching his brother's looks. Dean shook himself and got back to drying Sam's still purple skin off. Trying not to think about the horrific color Sam's skin had turned; Dean pulled Sam's clothing off and helped him into a pair of dry boxers, an undershirt, a short sleeved tee-shirt, a long sleeved tee-shirt, and a sweater. Sam felt a small laugh bubble up within him, but it turned quickly into another bone rattling cough.

"Sammy!" Sam shook his head to let Dean know he was okay, he just needed a minute.

"I. . .I'm. . .okay." He repeated his earlier statement. Dean looked at him skeptically but let it go.

"What's so funny then?"

"Think you brought enough clothing in for me?" Sam smirked.

"Dude, not even gonna comment on that idiot nature of that comment." Dean replied, helping Sam pull on a pair of thick wool socks and his running shoes.

"I think I can make it to the car," Sam offered trying to stand up but dropping back to the toilet seat weakly.

"Yeah, sure you can." Dean replied, wrapping Sam's arm around his own shoulders and practically dragging Sam out of the bathroom. In the main room of their motel, Dean helped Sam into a jacket and hat, zipping the jacket when Sam's hands shook too much to do so. Just keep him talking. Dean thought over and over to himself as they made their way slowly to the Impala.

"Sammy, were did you go?"

"What do you mean?" Sam mumbled. He was so tired, why wouldn't Dean just let him sleep? He hadn't thought he'd said the words aloud but he must have because Dean responded a moment later, "I can't let you sleep because you might not ever wake up again." Sam shook his head, he was really beginning to lose his mind. They finally reached the car and Sam didn't even bother to protest when Dean opened the door for him and buckled his seatbelt. Sam leaned his head back against the seat and sighed. His chest hurt, felt as though someone were sitting on it, and he hadn't really caught his breath since waking up, and his physical shaking wasn't helping matters either. Added to that he felt as though his head weighed a ton, and Dean turning the heater up to ninety some degrees was only making Sam feel more and more exhausted. He thought Dean might be speaking to him, but he was just too tired. Dean will understand if I go to sleep for just a minute. Sam reasoned. It was his last conscious thought.

Dean looked over when he realized that Sam hadn't responded to him in a few minutes. His brother had fallen asleep; his head leaning against the headrest, arms wrapped around him self, as he shivered, even in sleep. Dean sighed and pressed his foot against the accelerator a little harder. He tried to calm his racing heart. Sammy was going to be just fine. He'd come back from the dead, hadn't he? He'd come back when he'd had no pulse and hadn't been breathing for some two minutes. Sammy would make it to the hospital, he make it through whatever treatments the doctors prescribed, and in a few days, when Sammy had gotten his strength back, they would leave Oklahoma and everything would be okay again. They were going to be alright.

Don't forget to review! I know by my little hit counter that you're reading so don't be lazy! Let me know what you think, and don't forget to point out any gramatical mistakes! xo

SJ