A few notes on this chapter: It's a bit longer because due to finals, I'll be missing an update next week, so sorry! But Dean's making progress...well, you'll see. Big thanks to TheEliteLabRatsLover, Celtic Knot, Persephone Lupin, and freetobescary for the reviews! To the guest, I hope you enjoy what this chapter has in store ;)

If I owned Supernatural, which I don't, I'd try to shorten midseason finale breaks because come on!

November 21, 12:52pm

The bandages on Dean's head had been changed, and there didn't seem to be any external complications, which was good. He had been up for half an hour at a time, but there was still no movement as to vocalization, he was just…silent and confused.

Sam had since limited his walks to once per day, half so that he could get a break and time to himself and half so that Cas would have some time to talk to Dean. When Cas was gone, Sam kept talking. He talked about memories, again, anything happy that may bring a smile to his brother's face.

Right before one, Cas headed out again with the promise to return with something to eat. Sam nodded silently, the door was open and shut, and then it was just the steady beeping that filled the remaining silence.

"First time I ever broke a bone and had to stay overnight," Sam began absently, looking between his brother in the bed and his hands in his lap, "you snuck in, I don't know how, and brought me ice cream. The nurses were so pissed when they found out," he chuckled just a little, "but it was the best night in a hospital that I ever had."

When he looked back to Dean, the older hunter's eyes were barely open and not totally focused, but still open. "So, um, sorry I haven't brought you any ice cream yet, I know how much you hate hospitals." Sam tried for a smile and moved his chair ever so slightly towards the bed so he could get a better look at Dean.

His eyes were open more now as he watched Sam, though he still seemed confused. It wasn't a look that Sam often saw on his brother's face, and it was never one he had gotten used to. Dean seemed to always know what to do, and even when he didn't, the false bravado could convince anyone that he did.

"You with me?" Sam asked quietly. He waited, not expecting any kind of verbal response, but when Dean blinked slowly and then opened his eyes again to focus on Sam, he took it as a win. They had vaguely established a 'one blink for yes, two for no' system that had been working until he could get much of his speech back. "Missed, you, man, glad you're back."

There was another slow blink as if Dean were saying 'me too', at least that's what made sense in Sam's head.

"I mean, I know what you'd probably say, you've been here the whole time, where the hell was I, yadayada," Sam shook his head and smirked.

Over the beeping and his own heart beating somewhat wildly at the prospect at being able to talk to Dean again, even though it was one sided, he almost missed the sound that came out of his brother's mouth.

It was nothing more than an elongated 's', but Sam could see through Dean's slightly scrunched features that he was trying as hard as he could. There was no doubt in his mind that the 's' belonged to him in some form.

"Yeah, Dean, it's me, still here," he said, with an actual smile this time, because this was actual progress. Sounds could turn into words which could turn into conversations and answers and no more worries.

Dean closed his mouth again and looked at Sam, still confused, as if he were trying to figure him out somehow. He wasn't scared, he looked almost…wary, if Sam had to put a word on it.

"What's wrong?" Sam looked around the room quickly, half expecting to see some creature lurking behind them or a nurse standing in the doorway observing their "conversation". But there was nothing, and the room was empty aside from the two brothers.

Dean opened his mouth slowly, as if he were trying to figure out how to put what he wanted to say into two words, or two syllables, whatever he could manage. His eyes still blinked somewhat lazily, but there was an alertness in them that Sam hadn't seen since he had been awake.

" 'old," Dean muttered, his eyes looking right at Sam as if they could se through him.

Sam looked his brother over and nodded. "Cold, right? Yeah, I'll see if I can grab another blanket, it gets cold in here and it's literally freezing outside…" Sam trailed off because Dean was very visibly blinking his eyes twice in succession since he couldn't shake his head. "Not…cold then? You're good? No blankets?" Dean blinked once and Sam sagged back against the chair, not sure what he was supposed to do with that one word.

Dean did his best to repeat it again, to which Sam nodded again, still trying to decipher it. No other letters made sense in front of it, so was it just… "Old?" Sam asked.

Dean blinked once, as if he were relieved that Sam had finally gotten it, but he was still confused.

"What, I'm old? Dean, you're the older brother in the hospital right now, if you could see in a mirror-"

Sam cut himself off again for a different reason, to take a look at the ground for a split second. Because if Dean could see how he looked, he definitely wouldn't like the face he saw staring back at him. When Sam looked up, Dean was blinking again, just once, and it was Sam's turn to be confused.

"First question? You're saying I'm…old?" Sam asked, doubting that Dean would be agreeing with him on the second part of what he had mentioned.

Dean blinked again in agreement. Sam pushed a hand through his hair and let out a small sigh, completely lost as to what Dean meant. He was probably just still loopy, or he was commenting on how old Sam looked with being all tired and in a hospital chair…yeah, that was probably it.

"Too old to be babysitting you in a hospital," Sam said quietly.

But no, that wasn't it, either. Dean was still looking at him with the same exact quizzical expression. Every so often, his eyes would scrunch and his lips would open, but he would either decide against it or become too tired to follow up. He was trying to speak, to let Sam know what he needed and wanted to get across, but he couldn't. The words were stuck, jumbled up in his own head as he struggled to make Sam understand.

And Sam didn't understand. For as well as he knew his brother, they had never encountered something of this magnitude before. "Old?" What was Sam supposed to do with that? Go through every single possible meaning and scenario and find one that Dean blinked once for? If he could even stay up that long?

"I-I don't," Sam let out a breath and shook his head. "I don't know what you mean, Dean," he admitted quietly, and dropped his gaze for a moment as he kept shaking his head. "I know you're trying to say something important, I know it, and you know I'm trying to get it."

One blink.

"But I just…I don't, not yet, and I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry."

I'm sorry I wasn't with you during all of this. I'm sorry I can't be of more help. I'm sorry I don't know what's going on in that hurting head of yours. I'm sorry I can't piece this together. I'm sorry that I haven't come up with a way to fix this.

There were tens of ways that his apology could be interpreted, and Sam could see the gears trying to turn in Dean's battered mind as he deciphered each meaning. Sam could still talk, and Dean could see behind it, even in his state, and Sam was utterly lost given that he couldn't do the same.

"We'll figure it out," Sam sighed and nodded after a few moments of silence. "You'll get back to normal, and we'll go back to the Bunker and get you healed up."

Dean blinked once again, but that confused look was still stuck on his face, and it only got worse when Sam mentioned the Bunker. Maybe he didn't want to think about leaving the hospital just yet, Sam couldn't blame him for it.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Marian came in for one of her checks, and smiled upon seeing Dean awake again. "There's those pretty green peepers I like seeing," she greeted happily, and went to get the clipboard on the bed to jot down a few things.

It may have been just Sam's imagination, but he could have sworn he saw Dean's mouth try to quirk upwards in a smirk.

"How is he?" Marian asked, which Sam knew Dean would hate, he hated when he was talked about in the third person when he was right there.

"Fine, yeah, good," Sam nodded and smiled a bit back. "A few words, the blinking system is working so far."

Marian nodded at that. "Sounds like you're being a fairly decent recovery patient then, Dean. We'll get you a bit better in no time and have you transferred into another ward as soon as you're feeling a bit better," she looked between the two brothers.

Getting Dean out of the ICU would definitely be a step up, and a sort of light at the end of one of the many tunnels they would have to go through. Sam and Marian made light small talk as Marian did a few checks on Dean, asking him to squeeze her finger or follow a pen with his eyes. A few of the tests he didn't necessarily pass, but the majority of them he was able to complete, which was as much of a sign of hope as Sam could expect.

November 23, 11:47am

Sam was really growing to hate hospital chairs. They weren't the best, nor the worst thing in the world, but after almost a week of just hospital chairs, it was getting taxing. Still, sitting in the hospital chair was giving Sam a fairly decent view of what was going on.

Dean had been up more the past few days, so the nurses were working on extending his range of motion, as he was progressing in terms of what his body could manage. Today, that was sitting up on the side of the bed.

One of the nurses was in front of Dean and Sam was sitting in the chair off to the side, facing his brother. Seeing him attempt to move was so much better than watching him, motionless and pale in the bed. Seeing him up and around was just another reminder that he was there and that he was getting better.

Cas was standing at the foot of the bed, watching the scenario unfold. Sam still caught a look on his face sometimes, when Dean couldn't quite get words out or when he looked at them confused. Cas still looked…helpless, for lack of a better word. He wished he could help more, but he couldn't quite put it into words, and Sam couldn't correctly explain that Cas simply being there was all the help that he could give, and it would always be enough.

"Right, just going to get your legs off," the nurse instructed, "nice and slow."

Dean blinked once in affirmation, as a head nod or shake still hurt, but it was getting better. They had been able to downgrade from a complete wrapping to a semi-wrapping, as his wound was healing.

With some help from the nurse, he swung his legs off the bed and straightened his back. Ever the stubborn man, he blinked twice when the nurse tried to offer extra assistance.

"Really, don't strain yourself," she advised.

"Won't do much good," Sam mentioned with a bit of a smirk. Dean caught Sam's look and sent something like a smile back his way. "If Dean's anything other than a fast healer, he's stubborn, and he can sit up by himself."

The nurse looked back to Sam, a bit confused, to which Sam shook his head. "If he could talk, that's what he'd say," he explained.

She looked back to Dean with a bit of a smirk herself and shrugged. Dean took it as his opening and as soon as her hands dropped, he straightened again and braced his hands against the bed. Soon enough, he had his balance and his hands went to his knees and he was sitting up on the bed.

It was such a small thing and such a big thing at the exact same time that it had the whole room smiling. Even Dean, though he still looked wary and a bit annoyed at the fact that all he was doing was sitting. He could vault over fences and prop his feet up on tables, but hey, progress was progress.

"It's nice to see you up, Dean," Cas mentioned, to which Dean turned his head towards and smiled a bit again. It wasn't up as in standing, but it was progress.

Over the next few days, Dean went from sitting to standing and eventually to taking a few steps around the room. He has control over his body, which the doctors assured both Sam and Cas was a good thing. He eventually got moved from the ICU to the High Dependency Unit, where he also began meeting with a physical therapist. This meant that for a few hours a day, usually in the mornings, Sam and Cas had more time to spend at the motel, as they couldn't see Dean during that time.

The days became monotonous, but at least they were getting somewhere, Cas was sure to remind Sam of that. But still, the way Dean looked at him let Sam know that something wasn't quite right. He didn't shy away from Sam or Cas, but he was definitely still wary and confused.

The nurses assured that he could piece together a few sentences, but he hadn't said much around Sam or Cas for reasons unknown. It could, again, just be his stubbornness, but Sam knew his brother well enough to know that he'd be talking as much as he could to assure them both that yes, he was okay, and that they needed more beauty sleep. But he hadn't done anything of the sort, at least, not yet.

A week after Dean had been moved, Cas dropped Sam off at the hospital before he went back to the motel to help get some information on a case that they had handed off to one of the other hunters. Sam had assured him time and time again that yes, he was fine visiting Dean alone for a day, but Cas was still wary. Eventually, Sam was alone in the room with Dean and a looming promise over his head to text Cas once an hour or if something came up.

Dean had been looking at the small television in the corner of the room for the better part of fifteen minutes, but as soon as Sam had shifted his position in his chair, Dean's eyes were back on him. The same confusion and wary were still present, even with all the assurances that Dean was healing a bit ahead of schedule.

"Dean…?" Sam finally broke the silence in the room as he leaned a bit forward in the chair. His brother shifted in the bed, but didn't break his gaze with him. "You…you sure everything's okay? You just keep looking at me like…I don't know, but I also don't know what to do about it, and you stopped talking to Cas and I…" he trailed off, waiting for an explanation that may never come.

Dean kept looking at him, and Sam could see the gears turning in his battered mind. Even now, Dean was debating on how much of the truth he should tell Sam.

"Look, Dean, don't lie about this, not after everything, whatever you're worried about, don't, I need to know what's going on," Sam said honestly, but quietly. After all this time, he was too tired to beat around the bush when it came to Dean's health and mental state, especially when something was so obviously wrong.

"Yeah," was the quiet response from the hunter in the bed. Sam was half shocked by it, it was the first word he had heard from his brother in almost two weeks. Dean looked between the bed and Sam before he finally shook his head just a fraction. There were wheels turning in his brother's mind, the endless struggle about whether or not to tell Sam about what was really bothering him. "How…" he tried for the words, "how are you…here?"

Sam tilted his head, not really understanding, again, what Dean was getting at. "Cas and I heard about the crash on the news, we drove over, he's back at the motel, he dropped me off," Sam explained patiently, because yes, he had been told time and time again that Dean could forget simple things like that as he was healing.

Dean shook his head about as much as he could.

"Not that?" Sam asked and ran a hand down his face, and blinked a few times before he nodded. "Okay, can you do…one more sentence? I just need to know what blanks to fill in here," he said, as gently as he could.

Dean pursed his lips ever so slightly, but his gaze didn't waver from Sam's. "Hell." It was just one simple word, but again, Sam was lost on its many literal and figurative meanings.

"It's been hell on me? Hell on you? Hell here?" Sam asked, knowing he was asking too many things at once, but he was also just struggling so very hard to understand what his brother needed to.

"No. Hell. You," Dean said, a bit disjointed, and it wasn't because of the injury, it was because there were tears shining in his eyes. "You're in hell."