Title: Chipping Away

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.

Summary: If tomorrow comes….

A/N: Am I dragging this out too much? Do I need to end it quick and clean or draw out the torture? I don't want people to lose interest by posting to fast. (I'm serious here!)

Alone Dreaming….as always. Hit me, hurt me, make me find better words.

"Panic attack?" John said disbelievingly. "Dean had a panic attack? What are you talking about?" He towered over the Dr. Hendrix, Dean's attending physician. Hendrix, a short, portly man of indeterminate age and ineffectual personality, was trying to explain the situation without overly annoying John. Sam met John's stare and shrugged.

"What I'm trying to say, Mr. Winchester, is that something has upset your son to the point that he's spiking a fever again. " Hendrix shoved his glasses back up his nose and tried desperately not to show how much John intimidated him. "When Nurse Rogers came in he was hyperventilating. His body is under a lot of stress and it's important that he remain calm. He's done very well up to now, much better than we had hoped, but it's a fragile balance."

"Well, what the hell upset him?" John demanded, giving Sam another once over. John had just come up from the parking lot to pick up Sam and was on his way to say a few words to Dean when it appeared all hell had broken loose. Jesus, it was barely noon!

Dr. Hendrix spread his hands. "It may just be a reaction to his hospitalization. I understand from you that he has a problem with hospitals. His experience with the ventilator and the fact that the medication we're giving him is making him quite nauseous is enough to produce an episode like this. There may have been some sort of external stimulus that set it off, but it's just impossible to tell. If I may say so, Mr. Winchester, Dean is not the most cooperative patient we have ever had!"

John's mouth tightened, but he found he really couldn't argue with that. "Well, how is he now? Can we see him? Sam and I have to get ready for graduation, but I want to see Dean first."

Hendrix nodded. "Of course. He's been vomiting off and on a result, I feel, of the stress and the medication. His fever appears to be going down but we're monitoring him very closely. If his breathing deteriorates or his fever goes up, we won't be able to release him when we had originally discussed and he may have to go back to ICU. It would probably be best if you didn't stay for too long. He really needs to rest undisturbed." Dr. Hendrix stepped aside and gestured them toward the half-closed door of Dean's room.

Worry had settled on John's face. This was not like Dean. He gauged Sam's expression. "Do you have any idea what this is all about? You were here. How was he?" John's voice was soft but it meant business. He was no fool and sensed something was amiss here.

Sam, already writhing in self loathing, shook his head. "He was upset because he couldn't be at the graduation ceremony. I know he's frustrated with all this," Sam shrugged helplessly. "Maybe it just hit him all at once. He seemed fine and then he just started freaking out." You lying bastard, he thought to himself, you know exactly what caused this. Coward! Shame burned in his eyes but he wouldn't let John see it.

John stared at Sam a moment longer then turned and pushed into Dean's room. The lights were dimmed and the curtains were closed. Dean was lying on his side, head pillowed on his arm, the other draped over his stomach, hands turned awkwardly to keep the IV's from pressing into the bed. He opened his eyes as they approached but closed them almost immediately. His body jerked as he coughed.

John reached out and brushed Dean's leg with his knuckles. "How you doin' there, kiddo? They tell me you've been puking again. What gives?"

Dean shrugged. "Just a couple of times." He cleared his throat and coughed again, wincing.

"Or three. I'm okay." His voice was hoarse and dull.

"Did something happen today?" John was not comfortable trying to get inside Dean's head, but he knew it was necessary. After all, lack of understanding had led to this situation in the first place. Though it was painful to stifle his first reaction, which was to tell Dean to suck it up and get well so he could go home, he had to try. "You were doing a lot better this morning."

Dean's eyes, two pieces of sharp green glass, fastened on Sam who was leaning against the wall as far from the bed as he could get without standing in the bathroom. He wouldn't raise his eyes to meet Dean's. Dean rolled his head against the pillow in a slow negative answering his father's question. His shifted his eyes away from Sam. "I wanta go home." He knew he sounded like a petulant five year old but he didn't care.

John frowned, listening to Dean's breath saw in and out. This was so unlike Dean, he was starting to feel a little alarmed. "Dean, you know you can't go home yet. Day after tomorrow if you're doing better. You keep throwing up all over the place and running a fever and they're gonna keep you here." John tried to make it sound a little like a joke, but it wasn't happening. He glanced over at Sam. "Sam and I have to get cleaned up and get to the graduation. I know you're upset that you can't go, but we already talked about that."

"I'm not upset about that." Dean turned to John. "I don't think I…. really want to go, anyway. It's

not that big a deal." Dean's eyes settled back on Sam who was watching him now, tightlipped.

John's frown deepened. Obviously, something was going on he wasn't privy to. He wanted to know what the hell it was, but he didn't want to start something in front of, or worse with, Dean right now. He glanced at his watch. "Sam, we need to get going if we're gonna get changed and get back in time." He leaned closer to Dean and rested his hand on Dean's forehead briefly. He was definitely warm. Dean had always been a difficult patient, whether at home or in a hospital. John sighed, squeezing Dean's shoulder. "We'll come back afterwards."

"I'm not going anywhere," Dean replied in the same flat voice

John straightened and walked past Sam and out the door. "Come on, Sam. Maybe he'll feel better later."

Sam pushed away from the wall, taking a few steps toward the bed. "Dean, I—"

Dean's cold gaze never left Sam. "If you're leaving, then leave," he said, driving each word like a

nail into Sam's heart. Dean turned his face away.

Sam paused, could think of nothing to say. He left the room, walking slowly after his father. He was almost to the elevators when he heard Dean yell his name. Sam raced back to the room.

Dean was sitting up shakily, coughing. Sam paused in the doorway, then came slowly into the room, stopping at the foot of the bed.

Dean had to cough before he could get the words out. "I didn't mean that….Sam. I'm sorry….." He gasped, his body rocking with each breath. "You knock 'em dead." Dean winked and gave Sam a twisted smile.

Sam broke into a grin, his eyes blurring. "Thanks, Dean!" He clasped Dean around the ankle and tugged. "I'll see you later."

Dean lay back again. "I'm not going anywhere," he repeated, swallowing. Sam nodded with a small laugh and took of after their Dad. The door swung closed behind him.

Dean coughed against his hand. Christ, his chest was killing. His mind was aghast with the knowledge of what he had just done. He had just given Sam permission to walk out of his life. To take everything he had to live for with him… He pushed his face into the pillows, his hand coming up to cover his eyes. He lay like that for several minutes and when his body finally started to shake, he made no sound and even if he had, there was no one there to care.

Wearing his only pair of somewhat worn dress pants with a clean button down and tie under the dark green, satiny gown, Sam sat in his assigned place with the other graduates in the small class of 208. Around his neck was draped the tassels and scarf of the honor society. He knew his father was in the crowd of parents and relatives crowding the gym but he wasn't sure where. Dean wasn't there and his absence was more palpable than John's presence. Sam was truly disgusted with himself and the fact that Dean was so willing to forgive him had not helped.

When his name was called he arose and accepted his diploma. Nothing changed in that instant. He wasn't transformed into a clear thinking adult. The moment was almost surreal in its nothingness. He didn't suddenly have all the answers he needed so much.

All he had, was a ticking time bomb, covered with Dean's blood.

Read and review please. I need to know people are reading this. To all of you who do review, bless you for the contact, it means a lot. I look forward to seeing your names.