Merry Christmas everyone! Thanks for the reviews. It's been really helpful and supportive so far.

By the time they got Sam cleaned up, he was an emotional mess. He had been so weak, and Dean wondered what had happened. He stood back, watching as two nurses scurried around, trying to help him. One of them had ran out of the room, an urgency about her when she said she was calling the on-call doctor. Dean was getting frustrated that no one would tell him what was going on. His baby brother was almost whining he was so upset, and he called for Dean. Dean was there, but trying to stay out of the nurses' way. If he wasn't so focused on his brother, he would have done what John actually did: John grabbed one of the young nurse's by the arm and made her look at him.

"We have been waiting patiently while you work, but his brother and I need to know what exactly is going on." John had a dangerous edge in his voice, and Dean assumed this was the one from earlier.

"Sir, Samuel has a fever of 104.2. We need you to calm down so that we can try to help your son." She said in just as clipped of a tone, and John let her go. He met Dean's eyes for a minute before going to stand beside him.

Dean wanted to scream. Sam had been here all day and they just now realized that his temperature had risen. What kind of craphole hospital was this? Hell, he should have known something was wrong, that the fever was building. There wouldn't have been an issue about him being cold if he had been all right.

In a whirlwind, the doctor came into the room and went over to where Sam was laying back down now. The nurses had put cooling blankets on him to try to lower his fever, and now he lay there shivering. Dean reminded himself that Sam couldn't be cold, they couldn't wrap him up in blankets and make everything better. The chill was a product of the fever. Changing his perspective, he tuned into what the doctor was doing with Sam. He had looked at the vitals, and begin talking to him.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Yes, in the hospital."

"Do you know why you're here?"

"I'm sick." Sam answered and Dean almost started laughing at the look that Sammy gave him. It clearly read 'I'm here because I'm sick, not because I have a head injury.' He didn't even know what all these questions were supposed to prove.

"Can you tell me how you feel?" The doctor said, either ignoring or not noticing the look Sam had given him. This question made Dean start to snicker and he covered it up with a fake cough. 'I feel just peachy doc.' These people had to be more stupid than anyone he'd ever met. He tried to calm down, telling himself that he was worked up because he was tired.

"Um, my head hurts, I'm cold. I was nauseous, but not anymore. I feel really light-headed, tired." At Sam's description of his own health situation, Dean felt his heart clench up. He had to remind himself that Sammy had told him that he would do Chemo for Dean. Even if he wasn't going to do this for himself, for any feelings he may have, he was going to try this for Dean. How many times had he gotten Sam to do things that way, by asking him to do it for him? He used to get little Sammy to eat things by asking him to take a few bites for him, to take medicine when he had ear infections for him, and to do bow-hunting lessons for him. Sam had always wanted to please him so much that he had gone along with everything for Dean. He wasn't about to stop using that to his advantage now when it meant the difference between a chance and a failure for Sammy's life.

"Okay, son, I'm going to give you some more medication for the fever and keep these blankets on you. I know it's cold, but when your temperature comes down, we'll take it off and give you regular blankets. Okay?" Sam fought the urge to glare at this man who treating him like a child. Instead, he nodded. The doctor turned around and motioned for John and Dean to follow him.

Once out in the hallway, the man began talking to them. "Right now, he has an ear infection. You were informed of this in the emergency room. There's not much that we can do that we aren't already doing."

"Is that why he's so weak? Why he feels light-headed?" Dean asked. Nobody had told them exactly what was wrong with Sam, just that he had cancer.

"Yes, but with the right antibiotics he will get better." This guy seemed too artificial. 'Doctor Doolittle.'

"What was with all the stupid questions?" Dean asked, finally letting his anger get the best of him. John put his hand up to silence Dean but it was ignored.

"The questions were to test how alert and aware he is. I wanted to make sure we weren't dealing with something even more dangerous. Has he made any decisions regarding what care he'll allow us to give?" He was concise, blunt, and Dean didn't like it.

He sighed and rubbed his hands across his face.

"Sam will get Chemo." John stated. Dean had helped him to win the battle, but he felt he still needed to exert control. Dean took a deep breath. He wished his dad would be more of an ally than a dictator.

"Okay, let me go get the papers for him to sign and Dr. Lambert will start him on it tomorrow." He said it so casual, like this wouldn't make Sammy's life even more difficult before he got better...and he would get better.

The doctor went to get the papers and Dean looked at his father. "Do you think you could treat him better? He's not feeling well and your all over him. For once, be gentle."

He turned around and walked back into the room, leaving John standing in the hallway alone.

Hope everybody enjoyed this chapter. I will try to update sometime tomorrow.

Aniki19- At this point in the story, John and Dean know what the doctor originally told them, and Ch. 7 was more about John trying to strongarm Sam.