Hey, sorry it's been so long, but I had homework and driving courses and things like that. Thank you all for the reviews I really appreciate them!

Here's the next chapter!

John stared at Mary, an unreadable look on his face. He hadn't seen her for twenty two years, hadn't been there when she had saved Sam and Dean. It was almost too much to see her now, and he didn't know what to do as she floated beside, what must have been Jess.

They looked alike, almost like sisters, and he could see why Sam had loved Jess. Even if his son didn't know it, or didn't remember their mother, a part of Sam saw Mary in Jess.

Mary and Jess flew straight towards Emma, aiming for her midsection. They knew that she couldn't really be alive after what Jess had done to her back in the warehouse. She was a wraith of a Nightmare Demon now, and could still be sent to hell!

As soon as Mary and Jess flew forward, Sam's eyes went black again, and Emma was lifted into the air, while Jess and Mary went right into her. Emma screamed, and combusted; and Sam gasped, his eyes shooting open, and the black starting to fade.

Jess and Mary faded, and John looked up, as if just noticing what Sam had done to save them all. Dean was at his brother's side, trying to take care of him as he shook. Sam had sweat on his brow, and the tremors that shook his body told John that he had a high fever, and though he was awake, he wasn't out of the woods yet.

John ran out into the hall, and yelled for help, all the while wondering why someone hadn't come sooner, when Sam's vital signs had gone up. He went back into the room, and walked straight over to Sam. Putting his hand against his youngest son's forehead, he felt the heat radiating off of his skin.

"Sammy?" his father asked, turning Sam's head to look at him. Sam's eyes were glazed and unfocussed, the usual bright eyes, now dull, and faded.

Sam tried to focus on the voice that seemed to be coming from far off, but couldn't quite manage it. He felt pressure gripping his chin, and his head being turned. There was a blurry figure standing in front of him, and he thought that it looked vaguely like his father.

...Then there were other voices, and more blurry figures that he didn't recognize coming into the room.

He didn't know where he was, but figured that from the incessant beeping that came from his right; that he was in the hospital. The last thing that he remembered was talking to Jess and his mom, while asking Dean if he could see them too. That seemed so far off though, and he wondered just how long it had been.

"Sammy?" he heard the voice of his brother call, and he tried to turn his head towards the voice, but it felt as if he had been weighed down. Everything was heavy, and it was hard to move. His head hurt, and his arm felt funny, and strangely immobile. He remembered feeling the bone break, but not much after that.

There were spurts of memory, and lights. Bursts of pain and moving, but he didn't really remember that much. He remembered hearing Dean's voice as he tried to fight his way out of the darkness that had consumed him, trying to tell him that he was fighting to get out of the dark, and that he loved him too.

"Dean?" His voice was weak and scratchy, and he heard other voices around him, voices that he didn't recognize.

There was a pressure on his hand, and he knew that it was Dean. A tear came to his eye when he realized that Dean was putting his macho posture away, and being there for Sam. Dean never would have held his hadn if he hadn't been hurt.

"I'm hear Sammy, it's going to be okay, just relax, and stay with us okay?" Dean's voice was soothing, and his vision was starting to clear. He felt the prick in his arm as a needle entered his skin, and blinked, trying to focus on his brother.

"Trying," Sam managed to ground out, as he saw the other people start to move away from the bed. There was another squeeze on his hand, and he saw Dean move away, before his father moved to where his brother had been standing.

His father picked up his hand and he tried to squeeze it hard, but could only manage a light presure on the hand that was now holding his own. "Dad?" he asked, his voice full of hope, and confusion.

"I'm here Sammy," the man said, and Sam's lips quirked upward.

"Missed you," Sam said, his voice getting low, and the edges of his vision starting to darken.

"I missed you too, Sammy." John said, his voice low, and soothing as he watched his son drift to sleep. He looked peaceful, and John couldn't remember the last time that Sam had looked peaceful, even in his sleep. The last time he remembered seeing Sam look like that was when he was little.

A seven year old Sam had had a nightmare, and had run straight to Dean's room. He knew that his eleven year old brother could protect him, and that he would be safe with him. He had fallen asleep as Dean had rubbed his back, and cooed him back to sleep. Both Dean and Sam had closed their eyes, so they hadn't seen John standing in the doorway, a heart warming smile on his face.

That had been the last time Sam had looked peaceful, and John was glad that he was at least relaxed and felt safe now, with both his older brother, and his father in the room, even if he was in the hospital.

Dean watched as Sam closed his eyes, and his father soothing him, had fallen asleep. He had watched as the nurses and doctors had left the room. He had moved to a chair and had watched as his brother rested peaceful, while his father had held his hand; until he had fallen asleep.

TBC

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Ana