A/N: ACK! What am I doing to the brothers? I really do ask myself that question often...just a reminder on this next one--I teach high school language arts. Medicine is not my thing. So when I write hospital scenes, you can bet I'm basing it on some melodramatic moment in ER. This chapter comes curtesy of geminigrl11's amazingness as a beta. And this chapter is up early for JJ Phoenix, who is amazingly awesome, and is the first person to attempt joining the prestigious SFTCOL(AR)S. Which totally made my day and Gem's! Information regarding SFTCOL(AR)S can be found on my bio :)

Chapter Ten

Sam felt his body bouncing.

"Sammy?"

Dean? He felt himself jolt again.

"Are you awake?"

It was then that Sam realized his eyes were open and he was staring up. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam."

He could hear the relief in Dean's voice. His eyes took in the closed space, the equipment, the man in the uniform standing at his side, finally his brother, who was watching him intently. "What happened?"

"You passed out, little brother."

"Sam?" the man on the other side was talking to him. "Can you look at me, please?"

It slowly occurred to Sam that he was in an ambulance. His eyes wandered back to the EMT.

"Good," the man said. "Follow the light."

Something bright was shone into Sam's eyes and he squinted, trying to turn away, but found himself immobilized.

"Good," the man said again.

He was so tired. Every muscle ached like he had had an electrical shock. He flashed briefly to an image of Dean, lying motionless and pale in a puddle of water, his heart no longer beating.

His stomach turned and he closed his eyes.

"Sam?"

Sam tried to swallow away the growing nausea, squeezing his eyes more tightly shut. "M'okay, Dean..."

He drifted to sleep without meaning to.

When he awakened, he noticed he wasn't bouncing anymore. The lights were brighter here though and it smelled funny. He was at the hospital.

He raised his head quickly, trying to figure out what was going on.

Gentle hands pushed him back down.

"Easy, little brother."

Sam fought a wave of dizziness. "What's going on?"

Dean could hear the fear and confusion in Sam's voice, and he left a hand on Sam's chest, patting it protectively. "We just got to the hospital. Do you remember the ambulance?"

Sam remembered the bouncing and the EMT. He nodded.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. At least Sam hadn't forgotten anything. That had to be a good sign.

Sam felt something tight on his arm, something putting pressure on his finger. His eyes sought wildly until he recognized the person at his side as a nurse, smiling as she fiddled with the blood pressure cuff. Looking down, he saw the clip on his finger.

He let his eyes follow the line from the clip stretching up behind his head, intermingling with a host of other cords, which he suddenly realized were all hooked up to him.

He felt himself tensing as he heard voices speaking all around him.

"...we'll need a CT..."

"...vitals are stable..."

"...get the saline started..."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Sam?"

He wanted to ignore them; it was a dream, always a dream.

"Sammy, open your eyes."

Dean's voice was stern and uncompromising. He opened his eyes and flinched when he didn't see his brother.

"Sam," a doctor said. "How are you feeling?"

Sam felt Dean's hand still lingering on his arm. He swallowed. "I'm fine. Just a little tired."

The doctor offered an empty smile as he accepted a printout from a nurse. He pursed his lips as he read it. Then he peered over the half-moon of his glasses at Dean. "I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to leave for a bit while we run some tests."

Dean started to rise, but Sam reached for him, his movements frantic and jerky. He couldn't be alone. Not again. Not when it was always so close. "Dean, don't leave me."

Leaving was the last thing Dean wanted to do, but he was worried about Sam. In fact, it was fair to say that since seeing his brother writhing on the floor of their bathroom, he was terrified for him. All Dean wanted was for the doctor to figure out what was wrong with Sam so that he could get better.

"Just relax, Sammy," Dean said, gripping his hand. "They've just got to figure out what happened, okay?"

"Dean—"

"I'll be right in the other room, okay?"

Sam felt his heart race for a moment, but the sure look on Dean's face made his protests dissipate.

"It's going to be okay, Sam."

Sam held Dean's gaze for as long as he could, until he disappeared behind the swinging doors of the trauma room.

He felt himself being moved, lifted, and repositioned. As his eyes focused, he realized he was surrounding by people, all hovering around him and moving purposefully, doing thing, doing important things...what were they doing?

"I'm Dr. Siela," the man with the glasses said, meeting his gaze. "Do you remember what happened?"

Sam grimaced as he felt hands probing his body. "I…I was in the bathroom."

"Anything else?"

Sam tried to shake his head. "I…"

A light shift of air settled over him and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Betrayer.

It was here.

"Sam?"

It was here. How could it be here? How can it be everywhere?

Sam tried to focus, tried to turn his attention back to the doctor, but he felt his resolve shaking. No. Not here. Not again.

"Sam?"

You are the betrayer.

He had to get out of here. The doctors and nurses paid no heed, still moving about him. What were they doing?

"His heart rate is increasing."

"BP's rising."

Someone cut away his shirt and Sam shivered.

"No. Don't. Look," Sam said with a nervous laugh. "I'm fine. I don't need—"

They didn't listen, and their fluid movements seemed to become more rapid above his head.

"Please," Sam said again. He had to get out of here. Pulling at the wires attached to him, he tried to sit up. "I don't—"

He found himself restrained. A head wavered above him, looking down at him. "We're here to help." It was a nurse, a pretty one, too. She was young, blonde. Dean would like her. Her smile was full and she had a dimple in her left cheek.

Her smile assuaged his anxiety and he let himself relax.

"You need help," she said, her voice suddenly too sweet, dripping with something Sam couldn't place.

Then her eyes, once round and blue, blackened, and her smile twisted sadistically. "You are weak."

Her voice was like acid now, and it burned his mind. "No…" he protested, pulling again as best he could. As he flailed for freedom, hands anchored him, tied him down. He had no escape, nowhere to turn, and he could not take his eyes from the face above him.

"Surrender, betrayer."

A chill racked his body and he struggled futilely against his bonds. He had no recourse. He was completely vulnerable to whatever they tried to do to him.

Distantly he could hear the noise of the trauma room, the hurried tones of the doctors. "…sedate him."

"He pulled the IV."

"Doctor, I think he's seizing—"

He could barely feel their hands now, working about him, and his vision tunneled darkly, until all he could see were the eyes above him.

You are mine.