Sam returned to the room after a few hours with enough snacks to hold him out for at least a week. He sat in the chair closest to the bed; Dean saw the look of guilt on his brother's face as he stared at the bed.

'I should have stayed, I shouldn't have left him,' Sam thought. 'I don't know what I would have done if he would have woken up while I was gone."

"Sam..." Dean tried.

Silence was all that followed, Sam wouldn't even look up at Dean.

Dean got the message- Sam needed some alone time.

"I think I'll go and check out some of the nurses, see if any of them are hot," Dean said as he left the room, he still got no response.

Dean walked around and was more than a little disappointed when none of the nurses met his expectations. He was on his was back to the room when he bumped into the woman he saw before. Dean took this opportunity to apologize to her. He still couldn't help but feel guilty.

"Listen," Dean said rubbing the back of his head, "I'm sorry about before, I didn't mean to intrude-"

"Oh that?" she said, "Think nothing of it."

Dean gave her a confused look.

"You see, when someone is dying I come in and take it upon myself to hold their hand, anything to comfort them in their last moments," she explained.

"So you work here?" Dean asked with a cocked eyebrow, maybe there was a hot nurse after all.

"You can say that. It's my job, but no matter how many times I do it though, it still hurts me," she said.

"It's never easy to watch someone die," Dean said quietly, he knew all to well from previous hunts.

"Listen, I have some place to be," she began. "But maybe we can meet up later for coffee or something?"

"Definitely," Dean said with a smirk and the voice he reserved for picking up girls.

"See you around then," she said as she smiled and walked off.

Dean continued on his way back to the room.

Dean entered through the open door and sat down, but Sam didn't even seem to notice. 'God, he's in shock, he probably thinks that this is his fault for some reason,' Dean thought to himself. Dean began to pace as he searched his mind for the right words to say to his brother. He would have to do this carefully or risk Sam blowing up in his face.

Meanwhile, Sam was staring at the bed. 'It's been almost three days since I've spoken with either Dad or Dean,' Sam thought to himself, he was getting increasingly worried and he needed to stay strong, for both of them.

"Please, just wake up, I can't keep waiting like this," Sam begged one more time. No response.

It had been about an hour and a half since Dean arrived back in the room. No matter how much he thought, he couldn't quite think of the right thing to say. Everything that he would say would be followed by a quick reply from Sam with evidence to the contrary. No matter what he said, it would erupt into an argument. He finally gave up and decided that he would take the direct approach and confront Sam head on.

"Damn it Sam, you know I'm no good at these chick flick moments. That's your job. So come on, tell me what those wheels in your head have been cranking out."

Sam just sat there, staring at the bed.

Dean stood there waiting for Sam to respond. He was easily frustrated, and the stress he was under didn't help any.

Sam looked up at the ceiling suddenly and said, "Come on Dean, please."

Dean was taken back by this. It wasn't like Sam to avoid a talk. 'This is going to be worse than I thought,' he thought to himself.

Dean sighed and finally said, "Alright Sammy. We don't have to talk about it right now but don't think that I'm just gonna forget about this."

Dean continued to pace, he had to get Sam to talk to him.

It was day four, Dean was able to rest off and on, but Sam never slept- not since his last nightmare. Although this started to worry Dean, he couldn't blame Sam. That nightmare was really strange, even in Dean's standards.

Dean turned his gaze towards the magazine table. He didn't pick one up to read, he just looked at the covers, magazines were really never his thing. They reminded him of the ladies in beauty parlors that would go there to gossip too much. When he finally looked up, he noticed that Sam had drifted off.

A few minutes later, Sam was beginning to show signs of a nightmare.

"Here we go again. Just please don't suck me into your brain again Sammy," he said aloud as he started to walk over to wake Sam. But before he had taken two steps he was beaten to it. Sam awoke with a gasp as a nurse knocked on the door. Dean turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry Mr. Salpeter, did I wake you? We could come back another time..." the nurse apologized.

"No, no. Now's good. What is it?" Sam said in a tired voice while running a hand over his face.

"He felt well enough to visit," the nurse said as she turned around to grab the wheelchair she had concealed.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Dean yelled as he saw the person in the wheelchair. Sam flinched a bit at this.

"Dad," Sam said as he stood to greet his father, "I was beginning to worry."

Dean had fallen to the ground in shock. That couldn't be his Dad. His Dad is in the hospital bed to the left of him.

"Don't worry about me," John said, "How's Dean?"

"IS SOMEONE GOING TO TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Dean managed to yell out. Sam ignored his demand and rubbed his forehead. Dean could tell he was getting a headache.

"You alright son?" John asked with concern.

"Yeah," Sam paused as he sat, "Just a headache," he gasped.

"Just a headache or-"

"Just a headache," Sam said.

"You're sure?" John said as his concern grew.

"Ahh," Sam gasped, "Yeah Dad I just... I just need minute." Sam squinted his eyes and rubbed his head in an effort to lessen his headache.

After a moment passed and Sam's pain lessened a little and John repeated his question.

"How's Dean?" John asked softly.

"I'm fine, I'm right here Dad," Dean said frantically as he got up off of the ground. But his statement went ignored and he heard his brother say something that shook Dean to the core.

"He still hasn't woken up," Sam said as he looked back at the bed.

"No!" Dean said. Dean slowly turned to look at the person lying in the hospital bed. He hadn't been able to bring himself to look at the face since the ambulance ride. Dean was shocked at what he saw. All this time, he's been the one Sam was worried about.

"Oh my GOD!" was all he could manage to say before he fell back onto the floor.

Sam was glad to see his father, one less family member to worry about. Guilt still ate away at him for leaving Dean alone for those few hours. What if Dean had woken up and was alone? What would he think? Sam knew all of the horrible worst case scenarios that would cross his brother's mind. For Dean to think even for a moment that he had lost his brother and his father... It would have been torture. Let alone for the few hours that he was gone.

John saw the look of guilt on his son's face and it made his stomach churn. He had to say something to him before this got to far out of hand, if it hadn't already.

"Sammy, are you alright?" John asked, "You look like you've been to hell and back."

"Fine," Sam said absent mindedly without looking up from Dean.

"I know what you're thinking," John continued, "This isn't your fault."

"I was driving the car," Sam said devoid of emotion.

"What? You think that that's why Dean's hurt? What were you going to do, let Dean drive while he was unconscious, or me with a bullet in the leg? One way or another Sam, you got us to the hospital," John assured.

"Yeah, I guess," Sam said and he paused. "I broke my promise Dad, I left him."

"What?" John said confused.

"You told me not to leave him and what do I do? As soon as I have a nightmare I go for a walk. Dean would never leave me if I were lying there," Sam said.

"Is that what you're so broken up about? Listen to me Sammy, I'm not real excited about you leaving your brother but I understand- you needed a break. It has been four days," John said. "Since when do you follow my orders anyway Sammy?" John said half laughing to try and lighten the mood.

Sam still hadn't looked up at John until now, and John then wished he hadn't, it pained him to see how much Sam was torturing himself.

"Dean never did leave me, not even now," Sam stated.

"What do you mean Sam he's been unconscious?" John asked.

"He woke me up," Sam said, "From my nightmare."

"It was just a dream Sammy, just an everyday, run of the mill, naked in class-" John was cut off by Sam's laughter.

"That's exactly what Dean said the first time we had this conversation," Sam smiled at how much his brother and his father were alike.

"THAT kind of nightmare!" John said alarmed.

"No, not quite. It was a normal nightmare, if you can call our kind of nightmares normal, but Dean was there," Sam explained.

"I'm not following you Sam, so what, Dean was in your nightmare," John said.

"No I mean, he was there Dad, he was real," Sam said, "He came and told me I was having a nightmare and woke me up."

"I'm still not convinced, you've been under a lot of stress Sammy," John said.

"Dad, I felt him, not just in the dream, even now," Sam said.

"That's good Sammy, that means he's still here, with us," John said.

"Yeah, I guess," Sam said slightly relieved that his father wasn't angry.

Dean woke up in a haze on the floor of his room, man he had a killer headache. He stood up and everything came rushing back and he started to panic. "Okay, okay, so I'm outside of my body, worse has happened," he said to himself trying to calm down. 'How do I fix this,' he thought rationally. He needed to get back into his body, and fast. He could see that Sam and his father couldn't take much more of this. He investigated the ring of salt that surrounded his body, 'How bad could it be?' he thought to himself. Dean bent over and lowered his hand to touch the salt. Bad idea, that was about as smart as touching a hot stove, it felt the same too. Dean pulled back quickly and cried out in pain, he saw Sam wince out of the corner of his eye. He wouldn't be doing that again any time soon. "Damn, no wonder spirits are repelled by salt, it hurts like a bitch," Dean said to himself. He also knew that this was probably Sam's extra potent stuff.

"Okay, not your best idea Dean new plan," he said to himself.

Dean decided to try stepping over the salt; it couldn't hurt him if he didn't touch it. He smiled inwardly at his own brilliantness.

"See, you don't have to go to college to be a genius," he said to Sam before he attempted to step over the line. Dean hit a wall that pushed him back a few feet and he landed on Sam who immediately stood up startled at what hit him.

"Sorry Sammy," Dean groaned as he got up. "Out of everything Dad told us training, this is what you choose to remember college boy?" Dean said to Sam even though he knew that Sam couldn't hear him.

Sam stood up to fast, he felt a what he thought was a spirit hit him and it caused him to feel dizzy and he fell back into the chair. He couldn't take much more of this, Sam looked over at his father who had fallen asleep in the wheel chair, suddenly he laughed inwardly when he looked at John's hospital gown. John Winchester in a dress, where's his camera phone when he needs it? He silently wondered why he felt like he had burned his hand, he hadn't touched anything hot and there were no marks, he shrugged it off as imagination.

"Get a grip Sam," he said to himself.

Sam reached over and hit the nurse's button, a few moments later Dean's nurse entered the room.

"Anything wrong?" she asked.

Sam put his finger to his mouth in a silent shhh. Sam pointed at his father and motioned for her to take him back to his room, he needed his rest.

The nurse smiled and nodded to say that she understood and took his father away.

Sam leaned back over to the bed and started to talk to his older brother again.

"You're going to kill me when you see your car," Sam said to try and get a response.

Dean was standing next to Sam, he laughed when he heard what his brother said and replied with a, "Damn right I am."

Sam was willing to try anything to get his brother to wake up at this point and leaned in closer to say something into Dean's ear.

"Metallica is the worst band ever and you know it," Sam said with a smile. He thought he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head as if some one whacked him, but decided that it was nothing. Sam leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh.

He began to talk again, "I know that you're here and I know that you can hear me, I feel you in the room, don't ask me how, but I can. I need you to wake up, for me Dean. It's been over two days since I've had any sleep and I don't know if I can stay awake much longer. I'm still not excited about the nightmares, I can live with them. It's this that I can't live with," Sam swallowed waiting for any sign that Dean would wake up. "Dean please, I know you think that I can go on without you, that I have all these friends to go back to, but I haven't told you everything. After that shape shifter job, no one's called me or anything. Becky I understand, she's a little freaked still, but everyone else Dean, they've moved on without me. In the end all I have are you and Dad, and God knows that Dad will sacrifice himself in this hunt and that just leaves us. Dean please, I can't stand this anymore, you need to wake up."

Sam sat next to Dean for a few moments in silence, but they felt like hours.

Sam finally added one last bit, "I'm so sorry Dean. This is my fault, I don't care what Dad says. I was driving the car, maybe if I wasn't so caught up in my fight with Dad... maybe if I just would have listened to you and stopped arguing with him on everything... you might have come out of this better."

Then there was nothing left for Sam to say. He then put his head down on Dean's arm and fell asleep at his side.

This was about all Dean could stand, he couldn't watch his brother suffer like this. Dean decided to walk the halls, at least clear his head.

As he left the room, he made sure that Sam was still asleep, he didn't want to worry him if Sam couldn't feel him in the room.

Dean managed to find his father's room, Dean went in to check on him to see that he was alright.

John was sleeping so Dean thought it would be best if he left his father to his dreams. He went to investigate the nurses' station again and was yet again disappointed at what he saw. Dean decided to walk back to his room, there wasn't much he could do yet, no one could see him or hear him. Although he did entertain himself briefly by tapping the nurses shoulders to make them turn around.

It was then that he ran into her again, the woman from before. She looked up and smiled at him as she passed by. This was too weird for Dean. Something was up and he knew it.

"What the hell are you!" he demanded, "You can see me!"

The woman sighed and turned back around to face Dean "I was hoping to put off this conversation for a little longer, I don't think you're ready yet," she said as she was turning.

"No, I don't think you're ready yet!" Dean said before he yelled, "CHRISTO!"

Dean stood there stunned when nothing happened.

"Oh don't tell me you think that I'm a demon?" she said softly almost laughing.

"I don't know what to think, you never answered my question," Dean said suspiciously.

"What are you!" Dean repeated himself, "And you'd better answer before I decide to shoot first and ask questions later."

"First, shoot with what? You can't really do anything at the moment. Second, I'll answer your question, hear me out. I have many names in many cultures. You'll be hard pressed to find one that shows me for what I am, but I like Azra the most."

"I was never much for riddles, Azra. Tell me what the hell you are or I run back and jump into my brother's head and tell him what's going on. I might not be able to do much about you, but Sam isn't a force to be reckoned with, even when he hasn't slept," Dean threatened.

"I'm going to need you to promise not to freak out then, just keep in mind that if I was after you, you'd already be gone," Azra said.

"Fine, just start explaining," Dean said impatiently.

"I am Death," she stated.

Dean took a step back in amazement and although he didn't show it, fear.

"Um... I've seen death, stared it in the face even, and no offense but-," Dean was suddenly cut off.

"You're wondering why I'm so, to put it in your terms, hot?" Azra laughed, "I need to correct myself. I am the Angel of Death."

"Okay..." Dean said, she was definitely an angel by her looks, but death? 'It can't be,' he thought.

"What you saw before was not death in its true nature," she said, "Reapers were created by evil for evil purposes. By the way thanks for taking care of that one up in Nebraska for me, it was becoming a real pain in the ass."

Dean was surprised at what he heard. He had so many questions but the first to come out was, "Angels are allowed to curse?"

"Oh please Dean, do you think that God really has time to worry about every little word that a person says? He tends to frown upon it but He's kind of got enough to deal with without that. You of all people should know that," she let out a laugh.

Dean nodded, it made sense. But he was still wary and refused to let his guard down, this was Death he was dealing with after all.

"Dean you don't have to fear me as much as you do. I kind of get a bad reputation with the living, you know, the whole death personified thing," Azra told him.

He slowly felt himself trust her more although he couldn't understand why.

"Come on Dean, I'll walk you back to your room," she said.

Dean paused and after a moment accepted her offer.

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Thanks for all the comments so far! If you haven't commented yet don't be shy, I don't bite. Half way there, Ch. 2 out of 4. TBC...

This definately puts a different spin on things to say the least... This plot bunny was eating my brain all summer. MORE SOON.

'' Mr. Monkey Out.