Actions speak louder

Chapter 3

By teal-lover

Summary: Sam meant what he said the asylum. So how can he ever convince the one person in his life that knows him better than anyone, otherwise?

Rating: PG13, T

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural in any way shape or form, and I don't get any money for this, this is purely entertainment…hopefully:)

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Last time…

Sam stood a little to the left of the door, his hands raised, while an extremely nervous teenaged robber pointed a small caliber weapon back and forth between him and the clerk. The teen probably thought he could get the money quickly and be in and out before anyone would even notice in the isolated little store.

Sam's sudden appearance must have spooked the kid.

But it was Dean's sudden appearance and yelling that startled him into loosing his shaky grip on the trigger as he pointed at the newest intruder.

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Dean shifted to his right, but even as he did so, he knew it wouldn't be enough to avoid being hit. Hopefully, he thought, just enough to prevent a fatal injury. If he ducked, he'd probably get it in the head. Too far to the left, and the angle he had been standing at would probably force it too close to his heart. He made a split second decision and hoped it would be the right one.

Time seemed to move in slow motion as Dean realized that he wasn't the only one to make a split second decision. Sam had moved even before they heard the pop of the gun shot as if he knew what was going to happen. His long legs and lengthy strides gave him an advantage over Dean, and he used it to propel himself in front of his older brother, hoping for a tackle that would send Dean completely out of harms way.

Sam landed on top of Dean when they skidded across the floor, a jumbled mass of arms and legs before Dean finally rolled them both a bit and he banged his head against one of the shelves. He looked up in time to see the teenager jumping over them both and bolting out the front door. He was tempted to run after him, but the wave of dizziness that hit when he lifted his head drove that thought from his mind.

Dean couldn't believe that as tired as he was, his brother still had the presence of mind to react quickly in a potentially dangerous situation. He grinned as Sam lifted his head to meet his eyes. "Damn Sam, with that tackle, you could've gone pro."

"Nah. Hate football. Basketball, I think," Sam retorted softly.

Dean stared at him seriously. As a hunter, Dean had come to terms with the idea of being hurt or killed by some supernaturally evil force. And the thought that he had very nearly been taken out by some stupid punk kid that was probably just looking for spending money, had really shocked him. But even more so after what happened at the asylum, his brother's actions puzzled him. "Why Sam?"

"Because..." he answered with a goofy grin and spread his arms on either side of Dean's head and attempted to push himself up, only succeeding in falling back down moments later with a winded grunt.

Ignoring the heavy weight of his brothers body on top of his, Dean furrowed his brow worriedly and lifted Sam's head up. Looking into his little brother's face made his blood suddenly run cold. Sam's eyes were glassy and quickly becoming unfocussed. With a small hiccup, a steady stream of blood trickled out of his mouth.

Dean wrapped his arms around him, his fingers frantically searching for the wound he was hoping he wouldn't find. His hands came away wet and sticky and he held it away from him as if it were diseased. He scrambled out from underneath the taller man laying limply in his arms.

His eyes darted around frantically and he looked up to see the clerk's outstretched hand offering him a towel to apply pressure to slow the bleeding. Only now did Dean hear the sirens of the police and ambulance that tore into the parking lot. The clerk explained offhandedly, "I called as soon as the kid took off. Looked like your friend was going to need it. Don't worry, I know my little town probably looks like some backwater outpost, but the hospital's not far from here, and it's a regional trauma center too. They'll take good care of him."

Dean barely heard a word of what was being said or done over the next few minutes. The tears blurred his vision and the blood rushing around in his head pounded far too loudly to think clearly. He functioned on autopilot, running along side of the gurney as the paramedics loaded his brother into the ambulance.

When he tried to climb in, one of them stopped him. All traces of the cocky, confident, and swaggering Dean Winchester was gone. In his place was a brokenly terrified young man who uttered one word desperately. "Please?" Reluctantly, a hand was extended to help him climb aboard with a warning to stay out of the way.

When the paramedic hurriedly called out his patients stats to his partner relaying them to the hospital, Dean vaguely listened in a daze. They were loosing him. He was loosing him, and suddenly, he felt more lost and alone than he ever felt in his entire life.

He stumbled out of the ambulance on shaky legs while they rushed his little brother into the emergency room. As they fought to hold on to Sam's life, Dean fought to hold on to his own sanity.

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Sam sat up, wondering where he was and how he had gotten there as he looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. He began to recall the mini-market and guessed that he had been shot. He reached around to his upper back but felt no hole, no blood seeping through his fingers, and no pain. In fact, he felt nothing but a peace he couldn't recall ever feeling in his entire life.

And now he understood where he was...

It didn't surprise Sam at all after the terrifying dream he had had about Dean dying. It had been vague, and the only thing he had seen clearly was the doctor coming out in bloody scrubs informing him that he was sorry, and that they had done all they could. Sam hadn't known when or where, but the instant that Dean charged into the store, his sixth sense kicked in and he knew what was going to happen if he didn't stop it regardless of the personal consequences.

So he made a decision. And prayed that Dean would understand and someday forgive him for it. He sighed in resignation as he thought about the talk they hadn't had the chance to have, and probably never would now. He missed the opportunity to tell Dean how he really felt. He could only hope that no matter what else he had said and done to Dean in the past few months, one idea would stand out in his mind—actions speak louder than words. And Sam had said that he would die for him.

"Looks like I did."

"Not yet Sam."

He looked up startled to see the form towering over him, blocking out the light. From the angle he was sitting at, he couldn't see the features bathed in the shadows, only the feminine figure with flowing blonde hair draped around its shoulders. "Jess?" he asked hopefully.

She sat down on her knees smoothing his hair back gently and Sam was able to see her. This time, there was no confusion. He had only remembered seeing her once a few weeks back, and heard her voice through the briefest of words. Before that, he had remembered her only from pictures. Her soft spoken voice was music to his ears, and he cried, thinking he'd never hear it again. "Mom. I thought…"

Mary silenced him by pressing her index finger to his lips, "Shh. Don't worry about me. That was only my earthly spirit. A soul can never be destroyed, only returned to its rightful place. Now I need you to listen to me Sam."

Sam did as she asked, listening intently and absorbing all she knew of the evil that hunted him since birth. And of how things would only get worse before they got better. It seemed like she spoke for a long time before she kissed his forehead suddenly, ending her tale.

"You're going to forget most of what I just told you for a while. But it will come back to you when you need it. You have to remember Sam, and you will. I have faith in you. I'm so proud of you and your brother. And I love you so much. Now you have to go back, Sam. It's not your time yet."

Sam began to panic, "Go back? How the heck do I go back? I don't even know how I got here…"

"Listen to Dean. He's calling you. Follow his voice, baby, and don't let go. He'll guide you home."

He nodded uncertainly as he closed his eyes, praying that he would be able to do just that. His family's lives depended on it.

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Dean sat in the waiting room rocking back and forth, muttering repeatedly, 'Please Sam, I'm sorry,' the unspoken words of 'don't leave me' made all to clear. He wasn't sure how much time had gone by, but each time the double doors swooshed open, he looked up with a new wave of fear and nausea. Then the doctors would search out another anxious family member, both alleviating some of his fear—and heightening it at the same time.

He imagined his sandy-blonde hair peppered with newly gray strands with every passing minute. He didn't even want to think about what he would do if Sam didn't make it, couldn't fully wrap his mind around the idea.

It wasn't supposed to be this way, he thought bitterly. No matter what had transpired between them, no matter how much Sam hated him, it was still his job to protect his baby brother. Not the other way around. Damn it! What was he thinking! And the younger man's vague answer of 'because' simply wasn't good enough for Dean.

Dean was broken from his reverie by the sound of the doors opening yet again. The young doctor scanned the room, her eyes finally landing on him. He found it interesting that the scrubs they wore always seemed clean despite what they were doing, except this time. Or maybe he was just seeing it for the first time. Dean focused on the tiny drops of smeared blood and instinctively knew that the same blood also ran through his veins. This was his brother's doctor. He raised his eyes to meet hers, almost daring her to look away.

She held his gaze steadily and began to approach him, the saddened look in her eyes telling Dean all he never wanted to know.

TBC…

AN: It's not over yet guys :)

Let me know what you think...2 chapters in 2 days, see it makes me write faster & gives me ideas;)