Thank you all so much for all the reviews. They were fantastic and really do fuel a person to keep on writing. Now admittedly chapter five is a little on the short side, but once you read it, you'll understand why. It was too important to lump it in with other scenes.
Heroes have a special meaning for all the Winchester men, especially Dean.
Please read and review, after all it's the only way I know what you guys are thinking.
Chapter Five- Heroes
John Winchester flew through the doors of the ICU wing, and stood rigidly outside Sam's door. The door itself was closed, but the plastic blinds to the window were half up.
The father pressed his palms against the glass and stared out at the scene, the scene itself threatened to destroy the reality the older man knew.
"Come on Sam..." John begged as he his eyes never left Sam's body, which nurses and doctors frantically worked on, trying to bring his child back from the dead.
John closed his eyes, and sucked in a deep breath.
He froze by the door, his hand resting on the handle. He knew who was on the other side.
Dean.
How could he explain this to him..? How could he even begin to try and make his eldest son believe that he'd done the right thing in leaving…? Bobby was right; he should have never left his children. Screw Bobby for being right. Screw the demon for taking Mary, screw everyone for making his life a friggin living nightmare.
Screw this entire situation.
Here he was, a grown man, too afraid to go to the sides of his children who both desperately needed him. He was scared. Scared to what would happen if he crossed the threshold and went to Dean and Sam.
He couldn't go in, he wouldn't go in.
Fear did funny things to the human brain.
He wouldn't lose his sons. Neither of them. Sam would be just fine, he was positive about that, and Dean would be just fine as well.
John Winchester sighed loudly and closed his eyes. He then started to do something he hadn't done in over fifteen years.
He started to pray that on this one occasion, he couldn't be wrong….
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Dean Winchester stood shaking, his legs feeling like jelly, his back pressed against the cold, cold wall of the room.
He felt sick, his empty stomach churning frantically; like an overworked muscle about to die.
Dean stood directly opposite Sam's bed. He couldn't see his brother's face thanks to the doctors obstructing his view. Images of Sam however, danced like a slideshow in front of him and every one of them had Sam smiling.
Dean prayed that smile wouldn't haunt him, Dean prayed with every ounce of strength he had.
"Please mom..." Dean whispered, as he watched as a doctor shoved a round of injections of adrenaline into Sam's veins, Dean winced for his brother. "Please don't take him..."
…..I'll always watch over you...
Dean swallowed, as Sam's words echoed like a bullet being shattered into his skull.
…..I'll always watch over you...
Dean closed his eyes and sank down onto the floor, his forehead resting on his knees. The situation was suddenly unbearable and the elder hunter was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. The essence of his brother's spirit was beginning to over power him, and the reality of losing his brother forever begun to dawn on Dean's crumbling confidence.
Dean then realised that since Sam had flat lined, he'd held his breath.
Suddenly, the sound of the scene taking place in front of him flooded powerfully back into his mind. The void in his panicked brain had switched itself into reverse now, allowing the big brother to see and hear everything in the most vivid techno colour available, apparently surround sound also came with the deal; Dean had to clamp his hands over his ears as his body adjusted to the sudden impact of the noise.
"Another 10cc of adrenaline..." Dr. Kessin demanded to one of the nurses, "Charging to 220…"
The hands moved away as the defibulator paddles were clamped down on Sam's chest, the machine and Sam's body both reacting violently as the volts cursed through Sam's unmoved form. The heart machine continued to wail in the distance.
"Come on Sammy..." Dean whispered from the floor, slowly standing up and walking numbly over, "Come on, Sam..."
"No pulse, no response..." Dr. Kessin reported, as Sam's vital signs were taken again, "Charging to 230..."
Dean closed his eyes, Sam had flat lined almost five minutes ago. Dean knew everything looked bleak.
However, for some reason Dean just wasn't accepting the situation. The elder knew Sam was fighting literally now for life, and yet it just seemed too surreal.
Sam was a hunter, a good one at that. Dean had always expected one of them to eventually lose their lives in the line of duty, fighting the good fight.
Not in some car crash by an idiotic driver who had not seen them coming.
Heroes weren't supposed to die like this.
That's why Dean knew Sam wouldn't die.
His brother was a hero, a reluctant one at that, but a hero none the less. Dean made a vow that once Sam woke up, he'd tell him.
He'd tell him everything that he'd kept hidden for years deep down behind layers upon layers of humour, wise cracks and jibes.
He'd tell Sam that he loved him more than anything. He'd tell Sam that he'd die for him in a heart beat. He'd tell Sam that he needed him more than his little brother would ever be able to comprehend. He'd tell Sam that he was the most important thing in his life. He'd tell Sam that this wasn't his fault.
None of this was Sam's fault.
For this to work, Dean only needed one thing from Sam.
For his little brother to stay alive, and right now Sam wasn't keeping his end of the bargain...
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John Winchester's hazel eyes scanned the hospital room, the noise was unbearable, and he was on the outside of the room! The father couldn't enter the room; he knew he'd do something horrible to the doctors and nurses in there.
The way they went about hammering, pulling, poking and probing his younger son's body, looked almost inhumane to the father, and while he understood they were trying to save his child, it would have taken a hell of a lot for the father not to go inside and not beat the whole medical team into wallpaper paste.
So instead, distraught, panicked and terrified, the father was left looking into Sam's world from the outside.
A hollow feeling grated at John's heart. He'd always been watching Sam's world from the outside. That's what the father had chosen. Sam was stubborn, head strong and emotional. John couldn't always handle those three Winchester traits in one solid dose, and often that was how Sam was.
John sank lifelessly into a chair, and thought about Sam's spirit coming to him.
A small smile flickered on his face despite the situation. Sam had looked so beautiful. His little boy had looked, safe, warm, and free of pain and desperation. More importantly to John, he'd looked happy.
He could still feel the warm, comforting touch that Sam had left in him. His little boy had always been able to do that, just by his touch alone, even when he'd been nothing but a child, John knew that he had a gentle warm touch. Whenever John returned to his sons slightly battered with visible cuts and bruises, little Sammy would try and copy Dean's movements and drag a heavy first aid kit over to John.
John smiled at the memory, Sam had only been five, and John had shouted at him for trying to move the heavy box. Sam had offered to kiss his daddy's cuts better. John had looked into those hazel eyes and seen that Sam had wanted to help, in his own little way. So, even in complete agony from the bruises, John had lifted Sam onto the chair with him and Sam had given him a kiss on the side of his head. John smiled again, he also remembered Dean walking into the room about five minutes later telling Sam that he'd given dad cooties. Yeah, that had gone down well in that house that night.
And now, Sam was dying. Bobby had been right; he should have stayed with Sam and Dean.
What would be the point fighting to keep his sons safe, if he had no children left to fight for.
John slowly got to his feet and looked back at the scene in the hospital room. John felt angry tears sting his eyes, crying, was something John hadn't done in a very long time. Not since Mary. Not since he'd lost his wife.
John swallowed, the lump in his throat trying to suffocate him.
John was now losing Sam, and as if on cue, the tears slowly begun to stream down the father's face...
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Dean was shaking, his hands frantically on top of his head; he didn't know what to do with his hands. Part of him wanted to pull the medical team away, bring his brother back himself and then kick the living day lights out of Sam, for bringing this nightmare situation on himself.
Dean felt the tears in his eyes. How could he possibly be angry at Sam? Sam had seen that the ones he loved were trapped, in pain, and clearly in danger. The younger Winchester had simply done what anyone in that situation would have done; got help.
Dean knew he'd have done it, if he could have.
"Come on Sam, we don't go out like this..." Dean whispered, "You know that, don't you...?"
Dean watched as the defibulator was reset again, this time the volts were 240, and he knew this was Sam's last chance. His brother had been disconnected from the ventilator for over ten minutes.
Dean swallowed, …….Sam will have brain damage...Dean suddenly realised,………He's had no oxygen to the brain in over ten minutes, his heart hasn't worked in over ten minutes...
"Oh, god, no..." Dean suddenly gasped out, his own heart bashed violently in his chest.
His brother was slipping away.
"Save him..." Dean begged as he grabbed Dr. Kessin's arm, "Please, please don't let him go..."
"Stand clear..." Dr Kessin said his eyes never leaving Sam, as the probing hands of the medical team were removed from Sam's body.
"Please Sammy, please..." Dean whispered in a chant, his eyes looking up to the ceiling, "Please, I'm begging you, come back, come back..."
Dean watched, his breath held tightly within his lungs, the tears falling from his hazel eyes. The pads to the defibulator were pressed nosily, and clamped to his brother's form causing the body to convulse. It was an image that Dean would never forget, engraved in his head like a nightmare.
Dr David Kessin leaned forward himself and examined Sam, he tried desperately to ignore the quivering, emotionally charged figure that floated like a shadow at his side.
"No response..." The male nurse said. Dean recognised him as one of the nurses that originally had guided him out of the way when Sam had first gone into cardiac arrest.
Dr Kessin sighed, and Dean's shaking become more obvious.
The words were said that Dean never wanted to hear.
"Call it..." Dr Kessin said, as Dean's scream filled the room.
The other nursing staff in the room moved out the way, as Dean collapsed hysterically on top of Sam's lifeless form. Dr Kessin's heart sank as he watched Dean bury his face against Sam's neck, pleading for his brother to wake up.
"Time of death, 4.32 pm..."
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John Winchester sank to the floor outside Sam Winchester's room.
He hadn't needed to hear the doctor say anything. Dean's reaction had told the father everything he'd needed to know.
The tears flowed fast, freely as his heart crippled with pain and sorrow heaved unwillingly. His eyes looked up to the heavens above as tears fell from his eyes.
The cycle of evil that was John's Winchester's life had claimed another victim.
His child was dead. His Sammy was gone….
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(hands a tissue to Dean and John) Poor boys…..Please remember to review, and I'll see you all next update xx