Disclaimer: refer to chapter one

NOTE TO READERS: I've been amazed at the number of reviews this story has received so far. Thank you! Also, I wanted to say thanks for all of the positive comments and reviews toward the way I've written Ellen and Jo. I still hold true my comments in chapter one, but I'm happy to hear that I'm portraying them in a positive light and surprisingly a lot of readers are very happy with the Dean and Ellen moments. I'm glad. At any rate, I just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to review and comment. I appreciate it.

Chapter Three

Holding the Light

By Dawn Nyberg

The OR was a flurry of activity. One noise was heard above everything else. The solid wail of the heart monitor indicating Sam Winchester's heart wasn't beating.

"He's not responding," the young intern panted as he continued compressions while his mentor continued to locate, suture and cauterize bleeders as he found them.

"Push another high dose Epi," Dr. Paquet called out as he continued to work.

The room was at a fever pitch. The OR had turned into a battle ground for a young life. It was clear that Sam was slipping and Dr. Paquet hated to lose.

"Dr. Paquet, he's still flat. I'm not getting anything."

"Be more aggressive with your compressions. Push an amp of atropine. Circulate the meds." The doctor barked as he continued to work. He finally felt like he was getting ahead of the snowball effect happening until another problem developed. "Damn the liver sutures are oozing," the doctor complained.

"He's in V-Fib," the intern suddenly shouted.

"Give me the damn paddles," Dr. Paquet yelled. "Set at 360. Clear!" He applied the paddles to Sam's chest and watched the young man's body jerk upward as the shock entered his body. Everyone looked at the monitor. "Dammit, come on kid. Charge to 450! Clear!" Sam lurched upward yet again.

"Holy crap, we got him. It's a weak pulse, but…"

"But, nothing," Dr. Paquet commented as he returned to his work inside Sam's abdomen. "Something is better than nothing. Now you just keep his heart beating." The doctor looked around Sam's abdomen and sponged and suctioned. "How the hell," the doctor barked to himself as he continued to examine Sam's oozing liver.

"What?" The intern asked. "Maybe it'll clot. The clotting factor we gave him seems to be slowly taking effect." His mentor shook his head.

"This isn't going to clot," he lifted Sam's liver and pointed to yet another laceration buried along the anterior side of a small part of his liver. "I'm going to have to remove a small portion of his liver."

"His blood pressure is dropping again," the anesthesiologist notified.

"Push an Epi bolus," Dr. Paquet ordered. "I just need another thirty minutes. Keep him going."

Thirty minutes later, Dr. Paquet surveyed his completed work and noted that he saw no new bleeding or oozing after the partial lobe removal. "I'm ready to close up. Looks good. How's his pressure?"

"Well," the intern began. "He's got one."

"That's something," the seasoned surgeon replied to his young intern. "I want a new blood count on this kid even before he goes to recovery. And, I want him to have type specific transfusions until his levels are stabilized." The intern nodded. He drew a blood sample from an IV port quickly. Dr. Paquet continued to suture Sam's surgical site closed.

Meanwhile, twenty-minutes later in the ICU, Dean's Room

Dr. Rosen walked into Dean's room. Ellen and Jo both looked up. Dean despite his best efforts to not fall asleep had done just that about an hour ago. "You have news?" Ellen whispered as she stood up. Dean even with the extreme fatigue of his injured body woke immediately at the sound of movement and Ellen's voice. Once a hunter always a hunter.

"Sam? How's my brother?" Dean cleared his voice looking at the doctor.

"He's in recovery. His condition remains critical. They almost lost him in the OR, but were able to resuscitate." Dean fought to control his emotions at hearing his brother's heart had stopped yet again. Dean interrupted the doctor.

"The bleeding," he began. "Was the doc able to stop it all?" Both Ellen and Jo listened intently.

"Yes, it appears so. They were able to give Sam some clotting factor and it finally began to help. Unfortunately, Dr. Paquet discovered another laceration in Sam's liver that was hidden and he was forced to remove a portion of your brother's liver." Dean felt the bile creep up his throat, but he forced it back down. Dr. Rosen noticed the stricken faces of everyone in the room. "But," he added quickly. "He's not going to miss it. In fact, the liver can actually grow new liver tissue over time. And, given enough time his liver will be the way it was before the partial removal." The tension eased only a fraction.

"You said," Ellen started. "Sam's heart stopped again," she took a breath. "Has there been any damage to his heart?"

"Nothing permanent. He suffered a cardiac contusion in the animal attack, but it wasn't severe. The cardiac arrests are almost assuredly caused from the blood pressure issues, and blood loss. He's a fighter."

"How long will he be in recovery?" Ellen asked and Dean felt glad for the woman's presence. She was asking questions he wanted to, but he just couldn't find his voice as often as he needed it.

"I suspect a couple hours or so. He's had major surgery. They are monitoring his blood counts closely and they aren't taking any chances right now."

"But, he's stable," Dean hedged.

"I wish I could say yes to that Dean," Dr. Rosen answered honestly. "He survived the surgery and he's holding his own. He's alive and let's work with that for now, okay?" Dean felt like a deflated balloon. He was desperate and his emotions were griping his chest like a vise. Ellen could almost feel Dean's fear and desperation as she reached out without really thinking and dropped a hand on his forearm patting it gently and then resting it there for a brief moment to offer a reassuring squeeze.

"Will he be taken back to his room after recovery?" Ellen asked the doctor as she gave one more quick squeeze and released Dean's arm.

"Yes, once they feel he is stable enough for transport and his blood counts aren't showing any signs of going down Sam will be returned to his room."

"What if his counts drop again?" Ellen voice was insistent.

"Then they may be forced to take him back into surgery."

"What? No!" Dean barked suddenly. "How much more do you expect him to take? He almost died in there. He goes back in there … he'll die. You people will kill him," Dean hissed violently as his own heart monitor beeped wildly.

"Dean, Hun, calm down," Ellen tried to urge gently and when that didn't work she had no other choice. "Dean!" she barked. "Calm down now," she commanded. "You can't fall apart now when Sam is going to need you," she met Dean's frantic eyes. "And, he will be needing you," she asserted as her eyes softened. It had been a simple reassurance, but he'd take it. There was something in her eyes that made Dean believe and he clung to that hope.

"Dean," Dr. Rosen began tentatively as he made sure his patients heart rate had adequately dropped into normal limits. "How about this…" the doctor offered. "Once Sam is back in his room I'll see about letting you sit with him for a while. Your recent blood counts were good, and as long as you're still willing to accept your physical limitations right now and follow my orders, or," he paused with a smile and looked from Dean to Ellen, "or your aunt's gentle direction then I'll let you have some time with your brother. Deal?"

"Thanks Doc."

"Deal?" Dr. Rosen needed to hear it from Dean. "You'll follow doctor's orders?"

"Yeah, whatever I gotta do to see Sam."

"Good. Now get some rest. Sam will be in recovery for at least two hours I suspect if not longer." Dean nodded.

The room was silent for a long moment and then Ellen spoke. "Jo Beth keep Dean company while I run to the bathroom."

"Yeah, okay."

Dean and Jo sat in silence. He didn't feel like closing his eyes just yet, and Jo seemed entranced with picking at her fingernail cuticles. Dean just stared straight ahead and watched the busy activity in the ICU unit through the large window between his room and the unit.

"Dean?" her voice was soft and held no cockiness to it that he was used to, in fact she sounded nervous. Dean turned his head met eyes with Jo.

"Yeah?"

"About what I said," she began with hesitation. "Back at the roadhouse … I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken everything out on you. You didn't do anything." Dean squinted at her for a long moment and then proceeded to look around the room with an air of observation. "What are you doing?" Jo questioned as she looked wherever he looked. "Well?" she asked.

"I'm lookin' for the candid camera," Dean replied with a soft smile. Jo realized it was Dean Winchester's version of an olive branch.

"Ha-ha very funny," she complained. "So we're okay?"

"Yeah," Dean answered quietly. He was silently happy for the brief moment of levity her apology offered. "So how bad did that hurt," he countered lightly referring to the apology.

"You have no idea," she replied with a rueful smile.

"And, I thought I might have to referee when I got back?" Ellen mused from the doorway. Jo shrugged at her mother.

"Nah, Mom, we're good." Dean nodded.

Four Hours Later, Sam's ICU Room

Dean sat watching his brother. He was glad they were all leaving him alone with his little brother. A nurse came in every 10 minutes or so to check various fluid levels, drains, and tubes coming from or going into Sam. "Sammy," Dean's voice was soft as he held his little brother's hand. "The doc says you're fighting," his voice shook. "I know you gotta be tired little brother, but you can't let go, okay? I can't do this without you." Dean ignored his own pain as he reached up to stroke his brother's chestnut colored hair. He watched the mechanical rise and fall of his sibling's chest. His face was pale and his lips almost colorless. He found himself staring at his brother's dark eyelashes and wished desperately that they'd flutter and his brother would open his eyes, but nothing happened.

Dean held Sam's hand tightly within his own trying to infuse some of his own warmth into his brother's cold, slack hand. "This is so fucked Sam," Dean choked as he fought to contain a sob. He felt his little brother's light flickering and if that light was lost he knew he'd never find his way out of the darkness. Sam had always shown a light in his big brother's shadows and kept the darkness inside him at bay. Sam was his hope, his light. Dean clung to his brother; he clung to the light that was Sammy. "I'm not letting you go," Dean whispered to his brother as he fought back the tears. It was a losing battle against the wet tracks that cascaded down his face.

"Dean?" Dr. Rosen spoke softly from the door. He could feel he was intruding on a private moment between the brothers. Dean glanced at the doctor, but he returned his eyes to his brother. "We should get you back to your bed. You've been with Sam for a half hour now. You need to rest and I'm ordering another blood count for you. We need to do some things for your brother."

"What?" Dean turned sharp eyes toward his and Sam's doctor.

"We need to take new blood counts on Sam and the surgeon is coming in to check and change out some tubing and drains. Also, the nurse needs to do some things for him."

"I want to stay."

"I'm sure you do, but remember our deal. After I make sure you're not doing damage to yourself and you get some rest … I promise you can sit with Sam again."

"My blood counts are fine. They have been every time. Just let me stay."

"Dean the last time I checked I'm the one that's your doctor and I think you're so focused on your brother that you could care less about yourself." Dean interrupted him.

"Nothing wrong with that," he hissed. "He's my little brother. He…" Dean wasn't aloud to finish.

"Dean," Ellen's voice spoke up over the two men. "Please, you know Sam wouldn't want you to push yourself. And, what if he's hearing all of this? You want him to worry about you while all his energy should be directed toward getting well." Dean looked at her. When did she become so pragmatic? She smiled ever so slightly. "So, move your ass kiddo," she chimed softly. Now that was the Ellen Dean was familiar with.

"Yes, ma'am," Dean cast one last look at Sam before they started to wheel him back to his room. "Hey Doc?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Yes?"

"When should Sam be waking up?"

"His body has been through a lot and he's also been given a mild sedative to keep him out for a while. He has a lot of healing to do. It may be a couple days before he wakes up," he paused. "Or longer, it'll depend on Sam when it comes down to it."

Dean nodded.

Two Hours Later, Dean's ICU Room

Dean stirred and opened his eyes and saw Jo leaning into her hand with her eyes closed. He hated that he'd fallen asleep. He looked around the room briefly and quickly saw Ellen wasn't there. "Where's your mom?" His voice startled Jo.

"Sitting with Sam for a little bit. She told me to get her when you woke up."

"Is Sam okay? Did something happen?" Dean struggled to try and sit up, but again the pain pulled him back down. "Dammit!" He pounded his fist against the mattress in frustration over how his body was betraying him and letting Sam down. He should be with his brother.

"Hey, take it easy there," Jo stood up from her seat. "He's the same. I'll get my mom." She left the room quickly and Dean recognized her coping mechanisms were close to his own. His theory being if you bob and weave enough maybe you can avoid the uncomfortable moments. The theory sucked, but he'd never admit it out loud.

"Dean?" Ellen appeared in the doorway alone. "I had Jo sit with Sam." Ellen assured the older brother. She wanted to make sure that he knew Sam wasn't alone.

"How is he? Jo said he was the same. I want to see him."

"Yeah, well your blood pressure is lower than the doctor would like, so you've been grounded until it comes back up. So, you need to rest. You're pushing too hard. Sam is holding his own right now."

"Don't you get it," Dean hissed. "It's my fault. That damn wendigo," he paused. "It should be me in that shape. Sammy got its attention away from me. That fucking hunt was my idea. He's lying in there fighting for his life. Don't you understand," Dean barked. "If something happens to him … I … I… did this to him."

"Shut your mouth Dean," Ellen warned. "That boy is alive because of you. If you hadn't stayed conscious long enough to fire that flare gun he'd be dead and you right along with him. The doctor couldn't even believe you stayed conscious long enough to do anything because your concussion is so severe. Sam is alive because of you, so no more of that self blaming crap, you hear me?"

"You call that living," Dean replied with venom. "He's plugged into so much shit you can hardly find him under it all. He's not even breathing on his own … no a fucking tube down his throat hooked to a machine is doing that for him. And, his liver, hell, you heard the doc … they had to take out some. His liver for Christ sake! What if …" his voice trailed off as he felt his eyes begin to sting as he fought the tears. He wouldn't cry in front of Ellen.

"Dean," her voice softened as she saw his internal struggle play out across his face and in his eyes. "Look," she sat down next to him. "No what ifs, alright? Maybe, there could be some set back, maybe not. And, you heard Dr. Rosen, he said Sam's liver will heal given time." She urged. "He's alive now, and you still have your brother." Ellen and Dean sat silently with one another for long minutes. In many ways they were being silent comfort for the other. He was silently glad she was here for Sammy and for him.

Jo appeared in the doorway suddenly. Ellen and Dean both looked at her and saw the distress in her eyes. And, the flurry of activity running by Dean's room window set both Ellen and Dean's heart's racing. And, Jo's fearful words shattered the tenuous moment, "Something's wrong with Sam."

To Be Continued

Well, let me know what you're thinking. I know another cliffhanger, sorry! Only two more chapters to go and this story will be done. Thanks again!

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