I went to bed last night happy that my story was doing so well and when I woke up this morning and checked the reviews I almost passed out. 22 Reviews is enough to make any writer want to jump up and down with joy! Thank you guys so much, and a special thanks to tricksters apprentice for her great beta-ing of this story!

Here is the next chapter... Hope you all like it!

"We did all that we could, and I'm sorry..." the doctor started and both father and son felt the impact of the next words... "But Sam has lapsed into a coma, and shows little signs of waking up." The man looked sorrowful, and for a minute Dean didn't know if he should be devastated that his brother may not wake up, or relieved that Sam wasn't dead.

"Thank you for telling me... Dr?" Dean asked, his voice unsteady.

"Dr. Jesse MacGlashing," the man said, and Dean nodded.

"When can I see Sam?" Dean asked, and Jesse could tell that everything that was happening was taking a toll on Dean, but being away from his brother was doing the most damage.

"He is being moved to a room in the ICU right now, you can see him right now, and stay with him as long as you like. Sometimes it helps patients to hear someone they know talk to them," Dr. MacGlashing said, and Dean nodded, indicating for the doctor to show him the way.

Dean put the phone back up to his ear, and told his dad that he would see him soon, and John told him that he would be there as fast as he could. Dr. MacGlashing just faced forward, but could hear the break in Dean's voice as he talked to his father.

Jesse stopped in front of a room in the ICU, and told Dean that he could go in. When the doctor started to walk away, Dean grabbed his arm, and said, "When my dad, John Winchester, shows up, can you send him here?" When the doctor nodded, Dean sighed. "Thank you, for everything." Dean said as he turned away, and walked into the room.

Sam was laying in the middle of a bed that looked over size when Sam looked so fragile, small, and broken. There was a tube going down Sam's throat, helping him to breathe, and tubes and wires ran everywhere, over his brother's pale body.

Wires ran under the neckline of Sam's hospital gown, There were two IV's in his right hand, the one that was uninjured from the ceiling collapse, one was transfusing blood, and the other was pumping antibiotics, and painkillers into Sam's prone body.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said as he pulled up a chair and sat beside his brother's bed, taking his hand. "You need to wake up and tell me that it's Sam, little brother, you are way too quiet at the moment." Dean laughed a little at the irony of his little brother who was strong, and usually fought off the monsters, protecting the weak; now lying here, being one of the victims himself.

"Dad's coming, he wants to see you, so you need to wake up, and tell him how you feel when he gets here." Dean looked helplessly at the limp hand that was in his own, and decided that he may as well tell Sam what he had been too afraid to while he was awake.

"Sam you mat not know it, and I know I don't say it often enough, but I do love you, and so does dad. Traveling with you has been the best experience of my life. Knowing that you were always there to watch my back, and that you trusted me enough to watch yours was a great feeling. God, you're making me go all chick flick moment, and for that I hate you Sammy." Dean said, a tear trickling down his cheek, as he sobbed a laugh.

"All those things that you thought were your fault aren't Sam. You help too many people than you should, and take on too much responsibility for any person to handle. You really are one of a kind and no one could ever replace you. I mean even having your 'Shining' thing isn't what makes you special, it's your ability to stand up to dad, to defend people who are too weak to defend themselves. Hell, it's your blatant knowing when I need you, and when you need to quit at things, or never give them up." Dean's voice choked, and he gripped his brother's hand tighter.

Dean leaned his head back, content to just watch his brother, and make sure that nothing else would go wrong. "Please Sammy, just wake up." Dean said, and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep, not feeling or seeing the person who was standing in the doorway, and had seen the whole thing.

John Winchester watched as his eldest son tried his hardest to help his youngest. He had seen Dean let go of everything, and tell Sam exactly how he felt, and had watched as Dean slowly broke down, the state of his brother being too much for him to handle.

The sight before John was almost too much for him to take, and he didn't know how Dean had stayed together for so long. Sam was pale, too pale, and there was a tube helping him breathe, because he couldn't do the simple action on his own.

It was his fault that Sam was here. If he had found the boys, and come to them when the had gone back to Lawrence, none of this would have happened. Missouri had told him that his sons had needed him, but he hadn't gone to them, hadn't been there when they needed him. He hadn't been there when Sam had needed him after Jess' death.

John had gone to the funeral, and had watched from behind the cover of trees as Sam had placed a rose on Jess' casket. He had watched Sam cry over the loss, the first time that he had cried since he was seven from a scrape with a Wendigo. He had watched as Sam had to be led away after the funeral by Dean, who had put his arm around Sam's shoulders, and coaxed him to leave.

John walked over to the bedside, and gently moved some stray hair of Sam's off his forehead. His hair was stubborn just like the man it belonged to, and sprang right back into the same place, and John sighed exasperated, yet amused.

Seeing Sam weak and vulnerable like he was; was almost enough to break John, and he had been slowly cracking as the hunt for Mary's murderer was slowly growing cold. Father's weren't supposed to outlive their sons, and it looked as if that might happen. John was determined not to let Sam die, and there was nothing that was going to deter him from his determination.

John walked over to Dean, and put his hand on his son's shoulder, gently shaking him awake. When Dean looked up, he almost jumped. John smiled, and told himself that he was going to have to have Dean hone up on his sensing skills. Dean stood, and did something that he hadn't done in years, he hugged his father, tightly.

"Dad, I can't lose him." Dean sobbed, and almost started crying. John held his son as his shoulders shook, understanding that Dean needed this right now. Dean hadn't done anything this emotional since Mary's death, and it didn't surprise John that it was only Sammy, besides his mother, that could bring out this side in him.

"I know you can't Dean, and we won't. Sammy is going to pull through, and you two will be at each other's throats again about your choice in music or girls again in no time," John said, and felt his son laugh, before Dean pulled away, and immediately withdrew into his strong shell again.

"Sorry about that," Dean said, his voice and face showing his self consciousness and embarrassment.

"Don't be, we all have our moments," John said, and looked over to Sam again, his face still pale, and his body unmoved, but something felt different about him. He looked at the monitor, and saw that his brain activity level had gone up a little since Dean had started talking to him.

He was about to say something to Dean about the change, when the door banged open. In the doorway stood, Emma; her face set into a scowl.

TBC

So what do you think? Am I evil for bringing her back?

But I think you're happy that Sam isn't dead... right?

So what did you think? Thank you all again for all the reviews. They are the only reason that I write!

R&R!

Ana