Hey guys, so long time huh? I did take all your words to heart though, and this story will be finished, muse pending. I think this chapter shall be dedicated to Faye Dartmouth, for her encouraging words, and her comment that no chapter with intubation in it is a bad one, and that she enjoys my writing… (Totally squeeing!)

I also half dedicate this chapter to Rozzy07 who said, and I quote, 'Playing catch up here but just loved the opening chapter and the way you have taken it forward to the second - and so seriously pimping the limpness for our Sammy boy! Bad ghoulie Caliban slicing into our boy like that - someone really does need to salt & burn him damn fast.' I was laughing so much when I read this review, and it's high praise from such a great writer.

Anyway, a big thanks goes out to Tyranusfan, who continues to put up with my stubborn attitude, and my unedited chapters… He does such a wonderful job fixing them.

More thanks also goes out to the readers and reviewers of this story, who are the only the only things keeping me writing this story, because obviously my muses have decided to take a break until this story is done…

Anyway, enough of my babbling and rambling, read and enjoy chapter 4...

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"Family of John Fogerty?" Dean's head shot up at the question. He had been sitting in the waiting room, staring at the same dull white walls for over three hours, and was anxious to hear any news on Sam.

"I'm his brother," Dean stood, and walked over to the short, graying doctor. She gave him a smile that reminded him of his mother, and Dean's heart flipped.

"Hi Mr. Fogerty, my name is Dr. Meylo, and I was John's surgeon." Meylo held out her hand for Dean to shake, and squeezed reassuringly when Dean took the hand in his own.

"Dean," he let her hand go impatient, "How is he?"

Dr. Meylo took a breath, and looked up at him. "John pulled through surgery, and barring any complications he should fully recover." Dean's face lit up, and the hand that had been crushing his heart since Sam had been hurt let go. "Now," she told him, seeing his look; "that doesn't mean that everything is fine. John has a long, hard road ahead of him, and he isn't fully out of the woods yet." Dean seemed to deflate at the news, and Meylo felt bad for telling him, but she knew he had to know everything.

"We almost lost him a few times due to all the blood loss, but he's recieved a transfusion to replace it," Again the words hit Dean like a physical punch, and it was all he could do not to pull away. "As you know he was on a ventilator when he was brought in, and although that has been removed, John still has a nasal canula on to make sure he is getting enough oxygen." Dean let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding as the doctor told him that Sam was once again breathing on his own.

"What we're worried about now, is the likelihood of infection, more specifically, Septicemia. Septicemia is a blood infection, and is the most common cause of death for patients in the ICU of a hospital. With a wound like your brother's, Septicemia has a very good chance of occurring, and we've already put John on a run of antibiotics as a precaution. Other than that, John has a very good chance of pulling through, he is one strong young man."

Dean nodded as he took in all the information. He had heard of Septicemia; had even had a hunting buddy get it while in the hospital; but he had never thought that there would be a chance Sam would get the infection. The fact that he was already getting antibiotics to treat the infection and any other helped to put Dean's soul at ease, but it reinforced the fact that Sam was hurt badly enough to be in the ICU in the first place.

"Okay," he said slowly, looking the woman in the eye, "when can I see him?" There was so much that Dean wanted to know, but at the moment, his need to see his brother overrode any further questions. He was in protective big brother mode, and there was nothing that was going to keep him away from Sammy.

"Well, right now he is in recovery, and will probably be in there for the better part of an hour; but after he is moved to a room in the ICU, you will be able to stay with him." Dr. Meylo told him with a kind smile. "When John is moved into his room, I will send a nurse to take you to him." Dean nodded, mumbling a brief "thanks," as the older doctor left.

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Fifty two minutes and eight seconds later, a petite brunette in puppy dog scrubs came for him. Under normal conditions, Dean would have hit on her without a second thought, but with his baby brother laying in the ICU seriously hurt, getting a woman into bed was the last thing on his mind. She left him at the door of room 401 with a gentle smile, one which Dean struggled to return.

He pushed the door open, taking a deep breath before walking inside. His heart broke as he took in the sight of his little brother. He was still, so very still. Sam who had never been that still in sleep, nightmares and visions making him jerk and twitch, always in motion.

Sam was pale, as if all the blood had been drained from him. Tubes ran piggy-backed into the back of his right hand, one pushing a crimson liquid into his veins, and one ran clear pumping antibiotics and pain killers into his body. Wires ran under the neck of his hospital issue gown, monitoring his vitals, and as the nurse had told Dean, clear tubing ran under and into Sam's nose, keeping his oxygen levels up.

Dean walked to the side of Sam's bed, pulling up a chair, and flopping gracelessly into it. He reached over, and picked Sam's hand up in his own, not knowing if he was comforting Sam or himself. Sam was unconscious, and wouldn't know what his brother was doing. Dean was wide awake, and couldn't conceal the relief he felt holding Sam's hand in his own, feeling his pulse underneath his fingers.

Sitting there, he was content to just hold onto Sam, to make sure that he was really there, that he was really alive. Everything else, every other worry, every other thought, just seemed to take a back seat.

Keeping Sam's hand in his own, Dean reached over and smoothed his brother's ruffled hair, a small gesture that conveyed a lot of emotions. Ever since he could remember, Dean had run his fingers through Sam's long locks whenever he was hurt, sad, scared, or a combination of all three. The rhythmic motions had always had a calming effect on the younger Winchester, and it was a habit that Dean had never been able to break.

Sighing he sat back in the chair and ran his now free hand through his own short hair. It wasn't the first time he had seen Sam in a hospital bed, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but every time he saw his little brother helpless and hurt, a little piece of him broke. Dean placed his free hand over his eyes, and leaned his head back, all the while unconsciously rubbing the back of Sam's hand with his thumb.

Closing his eyes, Dean promised himself that he was just going to rest for a moment. He wanted to keep an eye on Sam, and he couldn't do that if he was asleep. It wasn't long though, before his eyelids were too heavy to lift, and he was slipping into the peaceful darkness of oblivion.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the idea for using 401 as the room number, totally came from Tyranusfan, who added a big, HA! at the end of his suggestion, I laughed and used the idea…

So anyway, since the first note was so long, I just want to tell you to take care, and push the lilac colored button on your left and leave me a review…

Take care,

OSS