Here is the next chapter. Thank you for all the reviews that you have given me. It just amazes me. Hope you like this one, no Mary and no Sammy, but good anyways.

It had been only a few minutes since Dean and John had been exiled from the room where the youngest Winchester laid, but it felt like a million years. Dean knew that he was dangerously close to hyperventilating. John hadn't moved him from the ground, simply let him sit there huddled up and broken. He stood right over Dean, hand gripping onto his left shoulder. They needed to prepare themselves in case this didn't end well. Dean would need him a lot if they did lose the baby. For years, they had done everything for Sammy, had viewed him as their last connection to the woman they both loved. He made things seem less ominous, and now he was the cause of the darkest moment that either of them would ever have to face. Even seeing his wife, the only woman he had ever loved and who had looked past his rough exterior, pinned to the ceiling, bleeding, and on fire had been nothing compared to the anguish of seeing his baby boy laying there lifeless as doctors pounded on his chest with a defibrillater to try to restart his life. 'If he lives, I promise that I'll never take him for granted again. I won't leave them again. I promise I'll take care of them. Just please spare his life. Take me instead!'

Dean had no sense of time or anything that was going on around him. His baby brother had needed him, and he had slept through it. Sammy had yelled for him to help and he woke up too late. If he had woken up even a couple of minutes earlier, he could have gotten help for him. He could have made him fight, not let him say that he loved him and then leave. Dean's own breath was coming in rugged gasps and he knew he was losing the battle against hyperventilation. This was all his fault!

John looked down at his son, who had up until this point been sitting there quietly. Dean was now rocking back and forth on his legs and repeating "I'm so sorry, Sammy. Please don't die." It was so heartbreaking and once again John said a silent prayer to any god that had ever protected his family to please spare Sammy so that he wouldn't lose his whole family.

Once the rocking had eased, John knelt down on one knee on the floor and looked his son in the eye. He knew his other son would be all right for at least a little while, because most of the doctors had left and the two that were left were moving medical equipment that John could only guess were to assist breathing into the room. "Come on, Dean. Let's go sit in the lobby and wait for the doctor to come talk to us." He gently coaxed his oldest son. The soft quality to his voice was surprising, even to himself.

Dean looked up at him with huge eyes stained with tears. "It was a game! How could I play a game with him like that? It was quality time that I could have just spent it in the room making him fight. He would have been fighting and I would have gotten to spend some more time with him. Ohmigod, dad, he can't die. We can't let him die. Dad, I can't let him die. I shouldn't have gone to sleep. Ohmigod, I should have stayed up and watched him and kept telling him how much he was loved and needed and maybe this wouldn't have happened. Dad, he called for me! He cried out for my help, but I was asleep and I just kept sleeping. What if he dies, Dad? I could have just killed him!" He was hysterical, and it was so uncharacteristic that John pulled the mess of his son to his chest, unconsciously mimicking the way Dean had held Sammy in Lawrence.

"This is not your fault. You probably just had a vivid dream. There's no way it was even physically possible for Sammy to have been calling for you so loud that it would have woken you up. Even if it were true, we both made mistakes. I thought I heard him wheezing, but he was cold, so I let it go. I was out by the nurses station asking for another blanket when this happened. If I had taken the focus off his comfort and told them that he was wheezing this wouldn't have happened. So, if you want to blame yourself, then I'm to blame just as much." Dean sat back from him, took a shuddering breath, and begin crying once more. They both knew what the cold meant: Sammy's weakened body had been shutting down. As the vital organs were requiring more of the body heat to keep them going and the blood was going to the vital organs, the hands and arms and feet and legs were getting colder. Sammy's body had been shutting itself down and neither of them had done anything. A dark shadow fell over the two Winchester men and they looked up almost simultaneously.

"Would you gentlemen care to go talk down the hall?" Dr. Lambert asked them, motioning for them to follow him to the lobby. John lifted himself up and helped Dean up with one hand. Together, they walked down the hall to hear what was going on with Sammy.

"How's my son, doctor?" John asked him directly as they each sat.

"Right now, he's on a ventilator. The infection in his lungs developed into pneumonia and his lungs were filled with liquid. We've put a shunt in his chest to help drain out some of the liquid, and in a few days he should be all right. These are going to be hard days, though. His heart may not be able to handle the strain and give out. I'm going to discontinue the chemotherapy. The treatments are not working. The cancer is unaffected. Plus, frankly, his body is too weak to handle anymore of the treatments." The doctor told them, and while they should have been comforted by the fact that he was alive, Dean still feared that this wouldn't end well.

"What else can we do? I'm not just gonna let him die. What else can we do to stop the cancer?" Dean demanded. It made him so angry that his brother had been put through hell and it hadn't made a damn bit of difference.

"There is another treatment we can try: Bone marrow transplantation. This means that we need to find a donor. The best candidate for a donor would be a sibling, so Dean, are you willing to give this a try?" The doctor explained to them. 'Am I willing to give it a try! I would lay my very life down for him!' Dean screamed in his head.

"Yes! I'll do whatever it takes." Dean told the man, none of his usual humor in his eyes.

"Okay, in order to start the process, we need to get a sample of your blood so that we can determine whether you are a match. We've already destroyed much of the cancer-producing bone marrow, so we will just need to give him medication to kill the rest of it off and then we'll replace the bone marrow with yours. This will be done by harvesting the bone marrow found in your spinal column." Dean almost laughed out of the irony. Just a couple weeks ago, he was saying how horrible a spinal tap would be, but he would do anything for his brother. He then turned to John. "Dean should be okay within twenty-four hours and moving around like nothing happened within three or four days. Sam, though, will be very susceptible to infection so you will both need to wear masks, caps, and gowns before entering his room for two to four weeks, maybe longer depending on how long the bone marrow takes to develop new white blood cells. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes. When do we start this process?" Dean asked, speaking before his father could say anything.

"As soon as possible. We have a sample of his bone marrow on file, but I will need a sample from both of you. In case Dean is not compatible, we need to have other options." Dean and John both nodded, and stood to their feet.

"Can we go in and sit with him now?" John asked the doctor.

"It might be best if you were to go home for a while. He won't know that you're even there, and I'm sure both of you could use the break." The doctor said. Although John knew that he was just trying to be caring, he clenched his jaw.

"Can we go in and sit with him?" He asked curtly. He and Dean didn't care if he knew they were there or not. They knew they were there, and that was all that mattered right now.

"Yes, of course. I'm going to come in the morning to take your bone marrow samples. Good luck, and I'll see you in the morning." The doctor said, befuddled but polite. He'd seen devoted families before, but none as close-knit as this one.

Together, the remaining member of the Winchester clan went to go care for their youngest. It would be a long night, but Sammy was worth it.

Hope you liked this chapter. Please feel free to post any kind of review. Have a nice night.

Oh, and...

AtticusFinchFan- I'm sorry about your grandma. I'm not gonna say any of the plethora of useless stuff that people say, but I hope that you are able to find someone who will find something to say.((((hugs)))))