Here's the next chapter. Not very long (lol), and I hope you like it. Thank you for all of you reviews.
Dean watched over his little brother. Today, things were going to be really stressful. Today they were going to have the surgery. The early morning rays of light came through the window and sunlight landed on Sammy, yet he didn't wake up. Glancing at his watch to gauge how much time they had, he noticed that it was half past seven and smiled a little. Normally, his brother would be up and ready to go, but now the sunlight didn't even disturb his slumber. He brushed back the hair that still hadn't completely fallen out and looked at his brother more closely. The extended period that he had been sick had left him looking haggard, skinny. Maybe the next gig could be in Florida or California, someplace sunny and warm so he could get his tan back. Or he could make something up at Stanford, hack into the little guy's e-mail and send messages to everyone in the "friend" file saying he would be there. He could leave it up to him to tell them what had happened, but he could start the ball rolling. It couldn't be that hard to figure out a password for someone almost as predictable as the tides. His brother shifted, either in his sleep or as a part of waking up and Dean stepped back a little. It was far enough to not wake him up if he was waking, and close enough to help if he was needed.
Sam felt the anxiety well up in him before he even opened his eyes. It was like going to take a really important test and he hadn't studied for them. His brother was standing right there; he had become so accustomed to him that he could literally feel his presence. It had been cute a few weeks ago, but now it was just annoying. He didn't have the energy to fight him either. "You know, Dean, I'm still going to be here if you sit down in your chair...or turn down the heat in here." There was a bright light and he knew if he opened his eyes, it would become a blinding light. For a moment, he thought maybe Dean really wasn't there, that he was just imagining, but then the light was gone and he felt himself become much cooler.
Dean heard the grumble come forth from his brother, but more importantly heard him complain about the heat. For one moment, he thought Sammy might have a fever, but he looked at the sun and how it was directly beating down on him and went to close the blinds. "How does that feel, Sammy? You still hot?"
"No Dean, thank you." He sounded so sick and Dean wanted them to hurry and up and do this. He didn't want another chick-flick like they'd had the other morning, and he wanted to see his brother better. More than anything, he wanted this all to be over. That would solve both of the problems.
"That's good. Hey, Sam. It's about seven forty-five. They're going to come in a couple of hours. What do you fee- think about this all?" Dean said, clearing his throat as his almost mistake became almost known.
Sam didn't notice, though. The anxiety was building up in him, and he felt scared. Something bad was going to happen. "Hey, Dean, do you remember how I knew what was going to happen with that Jenny lady and her kids in Lawrence?"
"Yeah," Dean was edging around this, not quite sure where this was all coming from.
"Dean, I have a feeling that something bad's going to happen." His voice was barely louder than a whisper and rattling, but it made Dean want to laugh. Sammy was wrong. He knew that Sammy was wrong. They had been so used to bad things happening lately that Sam just expected for bad things to happen. Nothing was really even wrong this time, but Sammy was so freaked that he expected something bad to happen.
"Okay, so did you have a dream, see something? What exactly should we be looking for?" He asked, not meaning for the laughter to be in his voice, but not being able to hold it back. In no way did he want Sammy thinking that he was making fun of him.
"Samuel, this has to stop. You're stressing out yourself and your brother. Nothing is wrong and you need to quit trying to make something wrong." Their father's gruff voice echoed through the room. They were both silent for a moment, and Sammy seemed to shut down at the words of his father. Dean spun around, fully ready to yell at the man. The only time that he had been a force for anything lately was to yell at Sam when he was already down and it was starting to piss him off. The look on his dad's face stopped him, though. He was just as tired as they were, just as worn out and worried, and he carried them to some degree. Their dad had always been short with them when he was stressed out about something, and Dean didn't know why this was any different. Stress was the thing that had allowed the two Winchester men to fight and to alienate Sam for four years, though and he had to stop this.
"Sam, are you actually having the dreams or visions?" Dean asked, looking back at his brother. He would always take priority.
"No...but I know something bad's going to happen." He said, looking back at his hands, at the IV as though he wanted to rip it out, and Dean wondered if he would be tied down by the end of the day.
"Listen, a lot of bad stuff has happened lately, and so you're just expecting something to happen. You were worried about the catheter, and that worked itself out fine. I'm here and Dad's here. We're not going to let anything bad happen to you, okay? Look, here." Dean calmly told him this, and then took the protection necklace from his neck and put it around his neck. "You can wear my necklace and nothing bad will happen, okay?"
Sam nodded his head. "What time is it?"
"It's about five minutes after the last time you asked." Dean said, chuckling a little at his brother's impatience. "Don't make it sound like you're going to your execution. Besides, they're putting something in you. I'm the one that's going to be in pain. They're taking something out of me, and I have to walk to around after."
"Little violins are playing all around the world, just for you, Dean." Their dad said, quietly but Dean still heard it and gave him a really dirty look.
"Why don't we find something to watch. "Good Morning America" should be on." Dean said, omitting the fact that they would be well on their way to an operating room once it was over. 'Let's give Sammy a few minutes to feel secure before he has to go do this.'
Sam and Dean sat there watching the morning show and talking about light things, little things that were on the show. He knew he shouldn't be making Sam stay up so long, that he should be saving his energy for the long day ahead, but he cherished these lucid times, and it wasn't as though Sam were fighting him on it. His head was up against the pillow, and he looked like he wouldn't be able to hold it up himself to save his life, but he was talking and that's what mattered. 'Nothing bad is going to happen. We already had bad happen, and there's some kind of quota that can't be exceeded.'
John was working things out with the doctor as his boys watched television. He needed to know what was going to happen with everything. Both of his boys were going in there, and while he had yelled at Sammy, told him not to worry, he was scared. He could deal with any kind of evil thing out there, because he knew what to expect, but he hadn't been here before. He had never been through this, and all he knew was that his baby was hurting, was dying and that their only solution right now was to take bone marrow out of Dean and put it into Sammy.
"I assure Mr Winchester, this is a safe procedure. All we have to do is take Dean into the operating room, take some of the bone marrow from his hip, and he'll be done. He will be given an anesthetic. I'm going to follow what you told me about his pain tolerance and give him a general anesthetic. It could be done with a local, but we're going to accommodate his comfort. He will be given a blood transfusion to replace the blood. Then, he will placed in a recovery room for a few hours. He'll have a large bandage over his hips that will need to stay on for twenty-four hours, but he will be fine. I'm not saying he's not going to hurt for a while, but we're giving him pain medication to take for a week." Dr Lambert told him, clearly explaining the process to him.
"What about Sam?" John asked. He hated to think about it being worse for him, but knew realistically that he had to be worried.
The doctor looked at him, and sighed. "Well, you know about the long-term risks associated with this procedure, but today should run smoothly. As soon as we get Dean into recovery, we'll start on Sam. The procedure is basically the same, except we'll be giving him the bone marrow. The only thing that will be tricky is managing the right amount of anesthetic due to how weak his body is. Don't worry, the anesthesiologist is very good. There should be no complications. Your sons are in good hands."
John knew that the doctor was very confident of himself and of the rest of the staff, but he didn't feel the tightness in his chest lessen. "Okay, let's get this done with." He said with a sigh, noticing that Dean was already being asked to go with a nurse. He looked at his son and wished him well with a glance, before following the doctor in to take care of his younger son. This had to work out.
Dean saw the look that his dad shot him, and knew that they were in good hands. His dad would be there for him and for Sammy. The kid had been asleep when he walked out of the room with a nurse. After over an hour of fighting the sleep, he had fallen asleep, and now he would wake up and not see him. The next time he would see him, would be when they got out of the recovery and even then, he was supposed to wear a mask, gown, and gloves- what would have to look as comforting as a spacesuit to his brother.
John saw them wake up his youngest, explain what they were going to do and then they asked him to leave so that they could prep him. And John Winchester was momentarily shut out of both of his son's worlds.
Hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to give any kind of review that you would like.
Daquiri- I love long reviews. I find they help me know where I am and what I need to work on as a writer. It's almost necessary. Thanks for the compliment on my grammer. I had a really good creative writing teacher in high school, and he taught us to reread and speak what we wrote, see if we would understand if we were being told the story. I hate MarySue's or OFC's too. Emily was not meant to be one. Also, with Sam's reactions to things: Fear, pain, and helplessness tend to change how a person reacts a little bit. I'm glad that you noticed these things, and I hope that you will continue to read and review. Hope chemistry goes well. :)