Chapter 2

They pulled to a stop at the doors to the ER and the paramedics lifted Sam's gurney from the ambulance and hurriedly wheeled him inside. Doctors and nurses joined the paramedics and were filled in on the patient's condition. They rolled Sam into an exam room and began furiously working to stabilize his condition. Dean and Riley tried to follow but were stopped by a nurse and told they had to wait outside. Dean would follow his brother into any fight, but he realized with sadness that he couldn't follow him into this one.

Riley saw the agony of helplessness written on Dean's face. She didn't know what to say to Dean, so she settled for taking his hand and standing with him as he watched the doctors fight a battle he couldn't.

Several minutes later there was a flurry of activity as the doctors attached monitors and IV bags to Sam's gurney before pushing him back out into the hallway and toward the elevator. Dean raced after them.

"Wait, where are you taking him? Is he gonna be ok?"

"He's bleeding internally but we've managed to stabilize him and we're taking him up to surgery. Are you a relative?" one of the nurses asked.

"Yeah, I'm his brother."

"Alright, I'll show you where you can wait." she turned to Riley and noticed her injuries. "Have you been checked out yet?"

"No," Riley replied, "I'm alright."

"You don't look alright, you look like you can barely stay on your feet. I want you to stay here and have one of the Docs check you out," she commanded.

"No, I'm really ok." Riley protested.

Dean turned to her. "Riley, he beat the hell outta you. You should really get checked out."

"I'm staying with you."

"Riley, I'm worried enough about Sam. I can't take worrying about you too!"

"Ok," she conceded, "I'll come find you when I'm done."

Dean squeezed her hand then turned and followed the nurse. Another nurse approached Riley and led her to an exam cubicle.

Riley fingered the fresh bandage on her forehead that covered 19 stitches then signed a release form stating that she was leaving against medical advice. She handed the form to the disapproving nurse. "I'll still be in the hospital," she told the nurse defensively, "but I need to be with Dean and make sure Sam is ok."

"Alright honey," the nurse said, her expression softening, "but if your symptoms worsen, you better get your butt back down here."

"I will, and thanks for these," Riley said gesturing to the clean scrubs she was wearing because her own clothes were covered with blood.

"You're welcome," the nurse replied with a kind smile. Riley gathered the plastic bag containing her clothes and her purse, which a police officer had brought to her when he took her statement, and followed the signs to the cafeteria. She purchased two cups of coffee and some sandwiches before heading toward the 4th floor O.R. waiting room where she was told Dean had been taken.

Dean sat alone in the waiting room, his elbows resting on his knees with his head in his hands. Sam had been in surgery for over two hours and so far, no one had brought him any news of his brother's condition. The last time he had been this scared was when Sam had been abducted by some psycho hillbillies in Minnesota and he hadn't been able to find him. This was worse though because, while last time he didn't know where his brother was, he was at least able to take action and find him. This time he knew exactly where Sam was, but he was powerless to help him. That fact was slowly eating away at him.

Dean heard someone enter the waiting room and he jerked his head up, hoping for good news but fearing the worst. A mix of emotions crossed his face when he saw it was Riley walking towards him. He was relieved she was alright but disappointed that he still had no news of his brother.

"Hey," she said softly as she walked toward him wearing blue hospital scrubs, her arms laden with her belongings as well as two steaming cups of coffee. She set the cups on the coffee table and stifled a groan as she gingerly sat down beside him. "Any word on Sam?"

Dean sighed. "No, nothing. It's killing me not knowing!"

"I know Dean. I'm sorry," she murmured placing a comforting hand on his back. "I brought coffee—and a sandwich in case you're hungry."

"Thanks," he said as he reached for his coffee and took a sip. "How are you? What did the Doc say?"

"I'll live. I have a concussion, and my ribs are a little banged up. They stitched up the gash on my forehead."

"I'm surprised they didn't want to admit you for observation," Dean commented.

"Well, they offered but I declined. I wanted to come and wait with you. Besides, I'm in a hospital. If I pass out help won't be too hard to find."

Dean looked at her and shook his head. "You're stubborn."

"Yeah? What's your point?" Riley shot back.

Dean cracked a small smile. "Thanks for being here."

"You're welcome." She pulled the sandwiches out of the bag and tossed one to him. "Here, you should eat something."

"Yes ma'am."

They ate quietly for several minutes before Riley broke the silence. "They told me in the ER that it looks like the clerk is gonna make it."

"Thanks to you," Dean replied

"I didn't do anything. The doctors are the ones who patched him up."

"Yes," he insisted, "you did. If you hadn't spoken up and helped get him out of there he would have bled out on the floor. That took guts."

"Yeah, well, I'm not so sure they would have listened to me if Sam hadn't backed me up with his pre-law knowledge."

"Gee, it looks like I'm not the only one who's uncomfortable with the hero thing," Dean chided.

"Whatever," she said, throwing her sandwich wrapper at him. Her face grew serious again.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"The gunmen, Jake and Aaron, they both died." Riley sighed and looked down at her hands. "And I guess I don't know how to feel about that. I mean, I feel terrible because these were two living, breathing people and now they're dead—but at the same time, what they did to us—what Jake almost…" her stomach lurched in revulsion at the memory and she closed her eyes to shut in the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Dean's jaw clenched as he watched Riley relive the events of this horrible day. Riley took a deep breath then continued. "There's this part of me that is relieved they're dead—and I hate myself for that."

"Hey," Dean said, tilting her chin up so she looked him in the eyes, "listen to me, feeling relieved they're dead does not make you a bad person. You have every right to feel the way you do," he told her with conviction.

A doctor entered the waiting room and Dean and Riley jumped to their feet. Dean took a shaky breath and reached for Riley's hand. She squeezed it reassuringly. Dean could barely breathe and it seemed an eternity passed before the grey-haired doctor spoke.

"Are you Sam Winchester's brother?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I'm Dr. Porter," he noticed the anxiousness and fear on Dean's face and continued quickly. "Your brother made it through surgery, but I won't lie to you, he's not out of the woods by any means. He took a bullet at close range to the abdomen. He suffered substantial blood loss and the bullet ruptured his spleen, which had to be removed. He can survive without it just fine, but his body has suffered a massive trauma and he remains in critical condition. We're moving him to the ICU on the 5th floor."

"Is he gonna make it Doc?" Dean asked, his voice shaky.

"I don't know son, the next 48 hours will be critical. We've done all we can and now its up to him." Dr. Porter placed a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "The good news is that Sam is young and strong. He wouldn't have made it this far if he wasn't a fighter."

"Can we see him?"

"You'll have to wait another half hour while they get him settled. And only family is allowed in the ICU," he said glancing toward Riley.

"She is family." Dean informed him.

"Alright, talk to the nurse at the main desk on the 5th floor and she'll show you where to go."

"Thanks Doc,"

It was nearly 5pm before they were allowed to see Sam. Dean's stomach dropped when he saw Sam's still form laying in the hospital bed hooked up to various machines and IV's. Riley hovered in the doorway and watched Dean absorb the shock of seeing his little brother so broken and frail. Raw emotions were radiating from Dean in almost tangible waves and Riley closed her eyes and asked God to heal and comfort them both.

When she opened her eyes Dean was still standing frozen in place staring at his brother. She watched his shoulders shake with pent up emotion then rise as he took a deep breath and walked toward his brother's bed. He lowered himself into a chair, took hold of Sam's hand, and bringing his face near his brother's began to speak softly. Riley felt as though she was witnessing something that was private—sacred even, so she quietly left the room and wearily sat on the bench across the hall.

Dean tried to breathe around the lump in his throat and the fear in his heart. "Sammy," he said, his voice choked with emotion, "you gotta fight little brother. I wish I could help you fight, but I can't. That time I was dying… you wouldn't let me go and you wouldn't let me give up. So I'm gonna return the favor. I'll be right here ridin' your ass until you wake up. You're not dyin' on me, Sammy, you hear me?" Dean held Sam's still hand in his and waited, waited for his brother to wake up, waited to breathe again.

Riley watched Dean keep vigil over his brother from her spot across the hall. Her heart ached for him. Glancing at the clock on the wall she saw it was almost six. She had been AWOL for 12 hours.

"Crap!" She rummaged in her purse for her cell phone. The screen showed her she had 7 missed calls from her coach and fellow Judo players. She quickly called her coach and explained her absence from the morning workout and afternoon practice.

"I'm a little banged up so I'm probably out of commission for a couple days," she told him. He made her promise to take care of herself and keep in touch before hanging up.

Riley dialed her teammate Ryan next.

He answered the phone with, "Riley! Where you been?"

"Hey Ryan. I sorta got held up—literally."

"Huh?"

"Did you hear about the hold-up at the 7-Eleven this morning?"

"That was you? Are you ok?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, I'm just banged up, but one of the guys I was in the hold-up with is in pretty bad shape so I'm gonna stick around the hospital."

"Are you gonna be ok to fight at regionals? Its only two weeks away."

Riley sighed, "I hope so. Look, I need a huge favor from you."

"Sure, what?"

"I'm supposed to teach the 10-12 year-olds class at 7pm. Do you think you can cover it for me?"

"Sure, no problem." He said quickly. "What were you working on?"

"It's a new class—beginner level, so we were just working on the proper ways to fall."

"Ok, I'm all over it," he assured her. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I will. Thanks Ryan," she said before ending the call.

Riley eyed Dean and stood up. She couldn't take away his pain or make his brother wake up, but she could make sure he didn't go hungry. She grabbed her purse and headed toward the cafeteria.

Dean looked up when he heard Riley enter. "Hey, where ya been?" he asked.

"Waiting outside," Riley replied. "It seemed like you needed some time alone with him and I didn't want to intrude. She pulled a chair next to his and sat down. "Here, I got you some dinner," she handed him a paper bag containing a burger, potato chips and a can of soda.

"Thanks Riley," he said gratefully as he pulled the food from the bag. Riley pulled a sandwich and an apple from a second bag and the two ate in silence. When she was finished, she leaned back in her chair and sipped her diet soda thoughtfully as she looked between the two brothers. Dean noticed her gaze.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked.

Riley shrugged, "You guys are really close."

"We are brothers," he replied.

"I know, but it's more than that. I have a sister who I love dearly and if she were lying here I'd be heartbroken. But it's like you guys have this bond that goes beyond blood, like the two of you, together, are a unit—a team. I saw it when we were in the hold-up. You guys had entire conversations with just a look—like you intuitively knew exactly what the other was thinking. And when I look at you right now, it's like you aren't all here because Sam's not here." Riley shrugged, "or maybe it's just the concussion talking."

"No, you're right," Dean said quietly. "Our mom was killed when we were little—I was four and Sam was just a baby. My dad kinda fell apart for awhile and then just became obsessed with trying to find what, er, who had done it. He would leave us with various friends while he went off to follow leads, or he would take us on the road with him. It was basically my job to take care of Sammy. And since we moved around so much, there was never really time to make friends or get close to anyone, so Sam's been like the only constant in my life," Dean's voice wavered. "I don't know what to do without him."

"I'm sorry…" Riley whispered. "I'm sorry, gosh, for all of it. I can't imagine what that was like."

"We made it through," Dean said quietly, "but my family means everything to me because it's all I have—all I've ever had."

Riley slid her hand into Dean's and they fell into thoughtful silence. Dean was taken aback by how comfortable he felt with Riley. Maybe what they had been through together that day had forged a bond between them because he wasn't really the open book type, and yet he had practically bared his soul to this girl.

After awhile the silence became too quiet, laden with tension and sadness for Riley. "So Dean, would you rather brood in silence or do you want to talk to pass the time?" She shrugged, "I want to help but I'm not sure what you need."

"Well, the silent brooding thing is killin' me. I just keep thinking what if he…" Dean sighed and ran his hands through his hair before continuing. "Yeah, by all means, talk to me. Help me keep my mind off all the scary scenarios running around my head."

"Ok, what do you wanna talk about?" Riley asked.

"I don't know, tell me about yourself. What do you do? I heard you on the phone earlier talking about missing practice. Do you play a sport" Dean asked as he leaned back in his chair.

"I'm a Judo player so I spend most of my time at the Olympic Training Center training. But of course that doesn't make me any money so I teach some classes at a dojo and do some substitute teaching at a couple schools to pay the bills."

"Well, that explains the ass kicking you gave that bastard. Judo's like Karate, right?"

"Not exactly," Riley replied. "Judo is a martial art from Japan but there's no kicking or punching involved. It's closer to wrestling—but with a ton of different throwing techniques. You can earn partial points for certain things but the main goal is to score a full point, called an ippon which ends the match like a knockout in boxing."

"So how do you score one of those?"

"You can either pin your opponent on their back or shoulder for 25 seconds, or get a perfect throw on them so they land hard on their whole back, or you can get an ippon by getting them in an arm bar or choking them to the point where they submit and tap out."

"Damn!" he exclaimed. "Wow, so you're like an actual Olympian?"

"Not yet. I was a favorite to make the Olympic Team in 2004, for my weight class, but I blew out my knee in practice a couple weeks before trials. After knee surgery, I spent the next year and a half rehabbing and getting back to the level I was at before my injury. So now I'm working to make the team for the Beijing Olympics in 2008."

"That must have been really hard to come so close and have your dream fall apart." Dean said thoughtfully.

"It broke my heart. But I just had to hold onto my faith that everything happens for a reason and trust that eventually everything would work out for the best."

"So how'd you get into Judo?" he asked.

"I was a total tomboy growing up and I hung out with the neighbor boys--three brothers. When I was around 11, their parents started sending them to Judo and I begged my parents to let me learn, and I fell in love with it. I even went to college at this tiny school in Wisconsin because they had a really good Judo team." Riley turned in her chair to face him and curled her legs beneath her. "And that's pretty much the gist of my life story, so how 'bout you Dean? What's your story?"

Dean thought for a moment. "Sam and I are P.I.'s—private investigators. We've basically been traveling around the country doing jobs. It's sort of the family business," he began, "In searching for our mom's killer, my dad started taking jobs and helping other people and he basically raised us to do it too."

Riley nodded beginning to get a picture of Dean's life. "So where's your Dad now? Have you called him? Does he know about Sam?"

"The thing is, we don't know where he is. He was working on a case a few months back and he just disappeared. Sammy and I have been looking for him ever since."

"Jeez, Dean. I'm so sorry."

"Sam bailed on us and the P.I. thing a few years back to go to college and when I couldn't find Dad, I got Sam to help me follow a lead. We never found Dad so I took him back to Stanford—he had an interview for law school. I swear, the kid's too smart for his own good," he said smiling sadly. "Anyway," he continued, "he got home to find his girlfriend Jess had been killed with the same signature our Mom had. So now we're back to the original mission: find who killed Mom, and now Jess."

"Holy crap! It's like someone is targeting your family," Riley said slowly.

"Yeah, it looks that way."

"Do you think, I mean, your Dad disappeared…" she trailed off.

"No, we're pretty sure Dad's alive. We've gotten cryptic messages from him leading us to a couple jobs but he's made it pretty clear he's working on a case he doesn't want us involved in and he plans to stay off our radar."

"Wow," she breathed and silence settled over them again.

Dean looked at Riley, watching her mull over what he'd just told her. He wasn't even sure why he had told her! He just knew that it felt good to be able to share his life with someone—even if he hadn't really told the whole truth. It was enough for her to be able to know who he was and where he'd come from. He wondered if she would think he was crazy if he had told her everything, the same way Cassie had. Telling Cassie the truth about himself had been a mistake—one he didn't want to repeat.

Dean sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was bone weary. He looked at Sam. It scared him to see his brother lying so still and hooked up to machines and IV's with various fluids dripping into his veins, but he found comfort in the continuous rise and fall of Sam's chest as he breathed because it meant he was still with him. Dean took hold of Sam's hand once again and waited.

Please review!