Author's note: Only one more chapter to go.
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"Hey Sammy, remember when Mac took us to that carnival when we were staying with him? You were four and the most energetic kid anybody had ever seen. We were in the fun house when that clown came out of nowhere, scared the pants off of you. So you know what you did? You went ahead and gave him a kick, with your tiny foot, to his family jewels. I've never laughed so hard in my life, and neither did Mac, or he tried to as he lifted you up and comforted you. My point is, Sammy, you've brought one of your biggest fears to its knees and I know that you can bring this infection to its knees too. Show it who's boss, huh Sammy."
John smiled fondly as he stood through the doorway of Sam's room and listened to Dean's monologue as he spoke to his unconscious brother from his position in the chair next to the bed. Thankfully, the cocktail of meds in Sam's IV had prevented any further damage to his heart, and an echo had confirmed no lasting damage. His lungs, however, were pretty weak and struggling. Therefore, the ventilator remained, and Mac had to put in a chest tube in the kid's side to drain the infection from his pleural area.
"I need you, Sammy. So does dad, and Caleb, and Joshua, and everyone. We all have red eyes that a hunter could easily mistake us for a group of junkie vampires. Please come back to me Sammy. I need my brother." Dean's voice broke at the end, and he placed his head on the bed, still gripping his baby brother's hand tightly.
John took this as his cue to abandon his hideout and approach his eldest, sitting down on a chair next to him and wrapping an arm around him
"Dean, Sammy's going to be fine. You heard Mac this morning, his heart is okay and his lungs are getting better slowly. He'll start weaning him off the sedation in a couple of hours."
Dean shrugged and flashed him a quick smile before it disappeared again "I know, but what if something goes wrong, and he gets worse?"
"Then we'll deal with it. Just like we always deal with hard situations. Like the time you broke your leg, shattered your bone. Remember?"
Oh boy, did Dean remember, it was one of the worst kinds of pain he had felt in his life and he couldn't walk for three months. But he remembered how his family had bent their lifestyles so that he could be comfortable. Not one of them went on any hunt, they put up a wheelchair ramp on the stairway and catered to Dean's every need without letting him feel embarrassed or overwhelmed. And Sam, sweet, sweet seven-year-old Sam, had waited on Dean hand and foot, his only goal for three months was to keep his big brother happy and relaxed.
John could see the different emotions flitting across Dean's face as he remembered the events that took place during the time when Dean broke his leg, and saw that the teen had gotten his point when he nodded.
"We'll do the same thing here." Dean said.
John nodded "Exactly. Now, even if Sam wakes up, he's still going to need the vent until his lungs heal. And you know how freaked out he's going to be when he wakes up with a tube down his throat, so we need to calm him down. Think you can do that?" John asked.
Dean stared at his father "When have I ever not been able to calm Sammy down?"
He had a point. Dean had a way with Sam that nobody else did, and vice versa. John could tell that their bond would only get stronger as they grew and wondered how close his sons would be as grownups.
"Yeah you have a point. Now all we can do is wait for Sam to wake up."
Several hours later found John, Dean, and Joshua standing around Sam's bed.
The child's eyelids had been moving around for a while now, and he was moving his hands a bit.
"Come on, Sammy, it's time to show us those puppy dog peepers of yours," Joshua whispered as his thumb stroked Sam's brow softly.
And it finally happened, Sam slowly opened his eyes, hazy and lethargic, but awake, and looked around the hospital room.
"Hey buddy, welcome back," John said smiling.
Reality caught up with Sam, however, as he noticed that there was something in his throat, constricting his breathing. His eyes widened as his hands shot up to his mouth to remove whatever was choking him.
The three other hunters sprang to action, Joshua grabbed Sam's hand gently before he could cause any damage to the breathing tube, John carded his hand through his child's hair soothingly and Dean slipped next to Sam on the bed.
"Sammy, leave it, You need it to help you breathe. Just focus on me, and let it breathe for you. Just focus on my heartbeat." Dean murmured into Sam's ear as he edged closer to Sam so that his little brother's head was on his chest.
Slowly, Sam's choked gasps quieted down, and the tears rolling down his cheeks ebbed as he stopped fighting the ventilator and let it do its job, and focused on his big brother's heartbeat.
Joshua and John watched, still amazed by Dean's incredible ability to calm Sam down, even though they've seen it countless times, ever since Sam was a baby and Dean a four-year-old toddler.
They watched as Sam seemed to fight the pull of the drugs that were dragging him back under so John, who's hand was still in Sam's hair, palmed his baby's cheek lovingly.
"Go back to sleep tiger, we'll be here when you wake up." He said as he watched Sam's eyes clip close, the child comforted by the presence of his family.
The next time Sam woke up it was to John holding him in a sitting position as he felt a cold object moving around his back.
Lifting his head from where it was resting on his dad's shoulder, John took notice of that and immediately smiled.
"Heya, Sammy."
Sam just lay his head back on his dad's shoulder and wrapped his arms around his father, drawing comfort.
"All done." Came Mac's voice, and Sam felt his upper body being lowered back down to the reclined bed. He winced as he felt a twinge of pain in his side.
Mac came into view, placing his stethoscope back in his pocket "Hey tiger, are you in any pain? Blink once for yes and two for no." he said, having noticed Sam's wince.
Sam blinked once then pointed to his side, and couldn't talk due to the breathing tube.
"That's the chest tube, what do you say we take it out?" Mac asked as he sat on a chair and rolled it closer to the bed, as he saw that it was no longer draining anything.
Sam nodded and the corner of his mouth lifted around the breathing tube to give his father and surrogate father a smile.
Mac donned sterile gloves then turned to John. "John, press the morphine button, so Sammy here won't feel anything."
John obliged, then held his son's hand and gently turned his child's face away from what Mac was about to do, whispering reassurances and distracting the clearly spooked kid.
Mac, in turn, quickly grasped the chest tube and pulled it out in one swift move, then placed a pressure bandage on the small wound to stop the bleeding before he could stitch it up. Quickly placing sutures on the wound, he placed some gauze on it and taped it into place.
"There, all done," He told them as he removed his gloves and sanitized his hands.
Before the doctor could get up, he felt a small hand wrap around his own large one. Looking up, he saw Sam staring at him, gratitude in his expressive eyes the emotion plain and clear despite not being able to talk due to the breathing tube, and his heart melted.
Squeezing Sam's hand, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the child's forehead. "You're welcome buddy."
And Sam was lost once again to the land of dreams as the morphine took him under.
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