I had a couple requests for an epilogue, and honestly, it sounded like a good idea, so I made one!

Twice now Sam had felt himself get close to consciousness. Both times he could almost make out sounds… almost make sense of his surroundings, but both times he was swept back under before he got close to opening his eyes. This time he could focus on the sounds around him. The gentle clicks and hums… a soft beeping… He could feel the air delivered to his nose through a tube that tucked up behind his ears. He could feel the warm blanket tucked up under his torso.

Finally he made the final push to open his eyes. He immediately made eye contact with Dean, who seemed to have been watching him, likely noticing his change in breathing as he came close to waking. He seemed… older than Sam remembered. Not really, but the amount of stress and exhaustion settled in his eyes made him look older.

"Hey." Was the greeting he got, and Sam could hear how forced it was to sound casual.

"The damage?" Sam croaked, not wanting to wait until Dean got around to bringing it up.

Dean stood, grabbing a cup from next to his bedside, bending the straw and holding it out for Sam. Gratefully, he took a sip, the liquid soothing some of the dryness in his mouth and throat.

"It'd be faster to list what wasn't fucked up." Dean said, laughing nervously as he tried to keep his tone light. It didn't work, and he frowned. "You had two surgeries… They had to use wire on your collar bone and two ribs… and patch where one of the ribs had started to poke into your lung. And you had a skin graft done on your left calf…"

Sam looked down at the lump under the blanket, heavy bandages around both legs. Skin graft must've been for the worst of the burns.

"You uh… eight stitches in your neck. Had to get a blood transfusion. You… you lost a lot I guess. They… your heart stopped in surgery, they almost didn't…" He just let himself trail off, staring up at Sam's monitor in an attempt to avoid eye contact. He was keeping himself together, but barely.

Sam sighed slightly. "How long was I out?"

"A week and a half." Dean said softly.

"What!?" Sam snapped, looking over at Dean.

"You got an infection… It was kind of touch and go for a bit. They kept you out for a while… then they didn't know when you'd wake up, or…" Or if you'd wake up.

"Where's Dad?" Sam asked, looking past Dean but not seeing any other chairs set up for a bedside vigil. He noticed a blanket and pillow on the back of Dean's chair which told him his brother had most likely been sleeping there. He bit back a small smile as he thought of the fight his brother probably gave the nurse who tried to kick him out the first night.

Now however, Dean looked nervous. No, Sam looked closer. Now Dean looked pissed.

"He's gone, isn't he?" Sam muttered, his voice falling. He knew he shouldn't have expected differently, but it hurt all the same.

"He's chasing down a werewolf in Colorado."

"How long did he stay here?"

Dean shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"How long, Dean?"

Dean stood, and Sam knew he had hit a nerve. His brother paced away for a second, taking a deep breath before he came back calm enough to sit again. It still didn't cover the small quiver of annoyance in his voice. "Two days."

"Two days." Sam repeated softly.

"You came out of surgery, and they said you were stable. He was out the door." He didn't have to say, but Sam knew Dean would have called when he developed an infection. His Dad hadn't returned.

"He wants you to join him." Sam finished softly.

"He wanted me to come with him then." Dean hissed. "I don't care what he wants now."

Sam nodded quietly. He knew his Dad was probably breathing down Dean's neck to come out and meet him on the road. He also knew that as much as he gave his brother shit for being a mindless soldier, if there was one thing he'd stand up to Dad about, it was Sam. He was touched that Dean was still here after what was likely a direct order to leave.

"School?"

Dean rolled his eyes, reaching down and coming up with what looked like a brand new backpack. "Fucking nerd." He unzipped it. "Contacted your school, got all your assignments. One of your classmates even left a copy of the notes in here. Doctors say it's going to take a while before you can go back. You can do your work from here, and then we'll transfer you to wherever the next town is during winter break."

Sam nodded, feeling relief at not only the promise he wouldn't fall behind, but the unspoken assurance that Dean wasn't leaving him, nor pushing him to move. He had expected to transfer long before the end of December, and it would be nice to not need to switch in the middle of a semester again. It was much easier to join a school after a longer break. "Thank you." He muttered. He knew how little Dean cared about school, and it meant a lot to him that he had bothered to go through all this work for Sam's school work.

"Yeah whatever." Dean dropped the backpack back out of view.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam rested his eyes for a moment before he was aware of the fidgeting beside him. He frowned. That was very unlike Dean. He opened his eyes, looking back at his brother.

"What happened Sam?" Dean looked a little pale, and Sam realized that as traumatic as it was for him, Dean took his safety personally, and he probably hadn't forgiven himself for letting an opportunity for this to even present itself. "We told the doctors that it was a hit and run car accident. Only way to keep CPS away. You're probably going to have to talk to the police after you're a bit better… but what really happened to you?"

Sam smiled weakly. "Well… I was hit by a car." He coughed slightly to clear his throat. "I don't know… two things… they were trying to bait Dad out there… said when he noticed I was gone he'd follow them and they'd get him."

Dean laughed, but the sound was humorless, and his eyes were dark. "Dad didn't expect you to come back for days. He thought you walked."

"Yeah. I figured." Sam said softly, feeling equal parts embarrassed and mad. "Anyway, they hit me with a car, and… I woke up tied in a barn. I think they were feeding on me… on my neck." He sighed. "I got to my backpack, but silver bullets didn't even slow them down. I managed to burn one of them… then I sort of uh… cut the girl's head off with a saw I found."

Dean grinned. "That's my boy."

Sam managed a more sincere smile at the pride in Dean's voice. "The barn was on fire though, so I guess I got burned while getting out. Then I walked back to the hotel. I think we were only a few miles away."

"Miles?" Dean asked. "Dude, your legs were toast! You walked the whole way?"

Sam would have shrugged if his collar bone wasn't so thoroughly wrapped to remind him that would be a bad idea. "Wasn't gonna hitch a ride looking like that."

Dean surprised him by taking his hand and giving it a firm squeeze. "I'm sorry I didn't look harder for you." He had felt like shit ever since Sam showed up. Felt terrible for giving up the search so easily, for listening to his father…

"It's okay Dean." Sam said softly. He wouldn't apologize for leaving to begin with, but he didn't blame his brother.

"God, if something worse had-"

"It didn't."

Dean nodded, reigning himself in before he could spiral. "What were they?"

Sam bit his lip. "I don't know… they had sharp teeth, but I've never seen anything like them."

"Do you think there are more?"

Sam shook his head slightly. "I think it was just them two… and they're both dead."

Dean gave his hand another squeeze. "You're one hell of a hunter, you know that? You're gonna give Dad a run for his money soon."

Sam gave a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes, feeling a mixture of pride and dread at the sentiment. "Yeah." He whispered.

Dean sighed. "You should get some rest Sammy. I'll be here when you wake up."

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but a yawn escaped instead. Rolling his eyes, he relented, letting his head lean back against the slightly elevated cushions, and allowing himself to be washed away by the siren's call of morphine and exhaustion.

It'd take him quite a while to fully recover, but Dean would be there with him every step of the way. And the next time he was on a hunt, he knew. He was scarier than anything out there that wanted him dead.