Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1
A/N: I apoligize for the lack of updates. hides I promise I won't make you go through a withdraw like that again. Anyways here is more for your enjoyment.
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Chapter 7
"Man Sammy, these pudding cups are made of pure awesome, just like me. You really don't know what your missing ." Dean smiled at Sam as he twirled his finger around at the chocolate remains in the cup.
"When you wake up I'll have you a big bag of M&m's right here, no more 'food through a tube' for you buddy." Dean heard the monitor make a small buzz. "Okay, okay I guess M&m's are my favorite, we can get what you want then." He lightly swept his hand through Sam's long bangs. Dean could see a small movement underneath Sam's closed eyelids.
Yep, Sammy's still in there. He can hear me.
"Dean?"
Dean turned his attention to the strawberry blonde women standing in the doorway. " Dr. Reye would like to see you in his office to go over some test results." Gail replied.
"I'll be right back Sammy." He gave a light squeeze of Sam's hand before he followed Gail down to Dr. Reye's office. Dean watched as Gail set the tan folder down in front of the doctor.
"Thank you Gail, would you close the door on your way out please."
She gave a nod an shot a smile at Dean before she left the room.
"Take a seat." Dr. Reye took out his reading glasses and adjusted them on his face.
"No thanks , I'd rather stand if you don't mind." Dean replied.
"Suit yourself." He opened the tan folder and skimmed over its contents. Dean folded his arms and tapped his foot on the floor.
"Don't be nervous Dean." Dr. Reye said, looking up from the papers to studied Dean's nervous movements.
"I'm not nervous." Dean reassured.
"That's good, cause you shouldn't be. The tests came back negative."
Dean raised an eyebrow at the doctor. " What do you mean the test came back negative?"
"You and Sam are do not have the same blood type. Your blood type is O, far from AB positive."
Dean unfolded his arms and placed his hands in his pockets as he paced back and forth. He gave a low sigh as his eyes drooped to the floor. "I don't believe this."
"It's not that uncommon for siblings to have different blood types, actually is sort of rare to find ones that share the same type. I thought your reaction to this would be different."
Dean shook his head. "Different how? Should I be happy about this? Break out the keg it's Miller time." He said, throwing up his hands in frustration.
"No, how about a little relieved that you didn't have to go and do something stupid like kill yourself in order to save your brother."
Dean stopped pacing. His jaw tightened as he stared coldly at the doctor, the anger welling up inside of him was about to erupt.
"So now saving my brother is stupid huh?"
Dr. Reye's mouth fell open as he shook his head, struggling to get out what he meant to say. "Dean, I didn't mean…"
Dean stopped him with a raise of his hand. "You know what, save it! I don't think you get it, I would do anything for Sam, as he would do the same for me. I bet you have a family of your own right? You have the pictures of your kids playing in the yard propped up on your fancy desk. Well Sam is my family, so I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get him back. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go tell my brother goodbye."
Dean stomped out of the office, slamming the Plexiglas door behind him. Dr. Reye sat back, twiddling his thumbs as he thought about Dean's last comment.
He meant he was going to tell his brother goodnight…..I think.
The ICU, Sam's room
Dean furiously threw on his jacket, popping up its collar as he usually did. He breathed heavily, it took every inch of self-control for him not to reach across that desk and strangle Dr. Reye with his bare hands. He walked over and took Sam's cold, clammy hand in his.
"Looks like we're on our own Sammy. But I don't want you to worry cause I have everything under control." He glanced at the clock as the hour was nearing eleven.
"Sammy, make sure you remember everything I told you." Dean leaned down, attempting to pull Sam into an awkward hug. He wish he could hold on to this moment forever, shielding Sam from the world one last time.
"Goodbye Sam."
Manley's Motel, 11:25 p.m.
Dean paced between the two motel beds, trying to plan out how he was going to do this. He had to make sure to make it as quick and painless as possible. He opened the duffel bag full of weapons from the trunk of the Impala. He took out a long rope, tying it into a noose. He looked at the metal bar in the closet, but could tell right away that it wouldn't be high enough to make it a quick and clean hang.
Besides, they probably wouldn't find my body for weeks.
He placed the rope back in the bag, taking out the silver 9mm that he kept in the side pocket. It shined in the light as he sat down on the bed. This would be perfect, one blow to head, quick but he wasn't sure about the painless part. Someone was bound to hear the gun shot, he was in the middle of suburbia, so a gun shot wouldn't be too common. He took out a bullet from the case and opened the barrel. He placed it into the empty hole and clicked it shut, spinning it once until its stopped on a random socket. He was sure it was it was on the right one, but he didn't want to check.
Russian Roulette, just great.
He laid his head on the pillow, bringing the loaded gun up to his left temple. He let out a deep, shaky breath as he turned off the safety. He squeezed the trigger slightly, closing his eyes. He secretly hoped that it wouldn't go off, that it wasn't on the right socket, but he wanted this to be over…now.
"Wow, who would have thought." a voice called out.
Dean opened his eyes, he recognized the voice. It was so familiar, yet it sounded foggy and warped. He sat up, turning his head to the bed farthest from the door. A tall, lanky figure sat on the bed. Its body seemed to give off a white, transcendent glow.
"Sam?"
The first thought that came into Dean's head was that Sam was dead, that he had died at the hospital and his ghost was sitting right in front of him.
"Sammy are you?…."
Sam looked up at Dean, fully aware of what he was going to say next. "No Dean, I'm not dead."
"So w-what are you doing here?" Dean stuttered, he could feel the cold radiating off from Sam's body.
"Watching my brother make the biggest, and the stupidest mistake of his life. I mean, I thought if you were to die, God forbid a hunt gone wrong, it would be fighting to save someone else. Not like this, not going out like a coward." Sam said coldly.
"Sam what are you talking about? I'm saving you. If I don't do this your going to die, and it will be all my fault." Dean lowered his head, a tear rolling down his cheek.
"Did you ever think of what this is going to do to me? Having to live with the knowing that my brother killed himself to save me all because he felt guilty about what he did. I know you take that risk everyday, with every hunt we gone on, but this is just wrong Dean, there has got to be a better way. To be quite honest, I would rather die than have to make funeral arrangements for my brother, not to mention my best friend. Do the right thing."
Dean looked up at his baby brother, watching him slowly disappear from the room. He wiped his face of wetness as his phone rang. He reached over and flicked open the buzzing phone.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Winchester?" the voice said, sounding hurried and out of breath.
"This is he, who's calling." Dean said, not recognizing the voice right away.
"This is Dr. Reye, you must get down to the hospital right now."
"What's wrong? is Sam okay? What happened?"
"I'll explain it all when you get here, just hurry!"
Dean closed his phone and grabbed his jacket before running out into the motel parking lot. He jumped into the Impala, peeling out of the lot in a under a second. As he pulled up to the entrance of the hospital, he could see an ambulance wheeling in a covered up body on gurney. He rushed inside to the 4th floor of the ICU. He was met by Dr. Reye at the elevator.
"Dean." Dr. Reye said.
"What's wrong with Sam?" Dean said, trying to catch his breath.
"Sam's fine, but we have great news. We have a heart. There was a car accident involving a Honda civic and a large black pick up truck."
"Really? Do you know what the license plates on the truck were?" Dean asked. He had gotten another text from his dad last night saying that he would be in town to work another job, and to see why his boys haven't completed theirs.
Dr. Reye looked down at police paper work faxes. "Um CSG 8R3, Kansas plates. Why do you ask?"
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