AN: Next chapter, finally. Sorry for the wait, school ya' know? Also, sorry if John and Dean seem a little OOC, but seriously…who wouldn't be crying? Plus I'm a sap… Thanks for all of the reviews, they make me smile. This chapter is unbetaed, so all mistakes…anything unclear…all my fault. So, chapter six!
"This isn't good or bad. It's just the way of things. Nothing stays the same."
Chapter Six
Previously:
John wrapped his arm around Dean's shoulders, pulling the young boy closer. "You're not to blame, you hear me?" he asked.
John felt Dean bury his head against John's chest, Dean's emotional barriers finally crumbling as tears flowed freely from the young boy's eyes as he nodded.
"Everything's going to be alright."
The two of them sat like that, Dean's tears subsided not long after starting, when John noticed a man in hospital scrubs walk into the waiting room.
"The family of Samuel Winchester?"
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John stood up as the doctor walked into the waiting room, feeling Dean scrambling out of his own seat mere milliseconds after his him.
"I'm his father," John told the doctor, who had walked over to stand near the two elder Winchesters.
"Dr. Swartz, I'm Samuel's doctor," the man introduced himself.
Dr. Swartz appeared to be a man of his late thirties, but years of the job seemed to have taken a toll on the good doctor. He had a genuine look to him; the kind of guy who wouldn't be telling him any bullshit – which John was grateful for.
"Samuel came to us in pretty bad shape, suffering for a pretty massive amount of blood loss due to the hemorrhaging from the deep wounds on his stomach, which we were able to stop during surgery."
"Is he going to be okay?" John asked with a hint of impatience, unconsciously holding his breathe, waiting for an answer.
"He should be, yes," John released his hold, chest heaving considerably, a slight smile gracing his lips in relief. "He also had a minor fracture to his left wrist which we have already had set and plastered into a cast that he'll have to wear for a couple of weeks. After some rest and relaxation we're hoping he should be able to bounce back to one hundred percent. We're moving him into recovery now; someone will be down to tell you when you can go in to see him. He's going to be pretty out of it for a while from the surgery, so don't worry when he doesn't wake up right away. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work."
After shaking hands and a slight nod from the doctor, Swartz departed, leaving John and Dean alone in the room to wait.
…
Dean stood slightly behind his father as the doctor relayed all the information about his little brother. The boy's hazel eyes, still red and puffy from his breakdown earlier, watched the exchange taking place in front of him.
"Is he going to be okay?" Dean heard his father ask, but the words that reached Dean sounded distorted, muffled from the blood rushing through his ears and his rapid heartbeat echoing loudly in his head.
This was one of those times Dean couldn't help but be scared shitless.
When the noise in his head subsided long enough for him to actually listen, Dean was able to gather from the doctor that Sam was going to be alright.
'He should be, yes.'
And if that wasn't the sweetest sounding statement Dean had ever heard he didn't know what was. Well…maybe a close second to 'You're going to be a big brother, Dean!'
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Forty Minutes Later, 9:56 p.m.
John and his eldest son silently walked down the hospital hallway towards the youngest member's hospital room; both too lost in thought to actually speak to the other. They had yet to say a word since the doctor had left, waiting silently until the nurse had come to retrieve them.
John had still yet to believe that everything was going to turn out okay. Sam would be fine. Even after all the shit that had gone wrong tonight. Thinking back on the events that had taken place only hours earlier, John's body couldn't help but give an involuntary shudder from the memories.
"You two can go in," Sam's nurse, a kind-hearted, middle-aged woman named Cindy, told John before walking back to the nurse's station.
John cautiously approached the hospital room door, feeling as if a sudden movement could bring on disaster. Reaching out a hand to the doorknob, he gradually inched the metal to the right, pushing against the wooden door with the other hand as he did, causing the door to swing open.
John took a deep breathe before entering into the room, Dean a step behind him, and closing the door softly.
Sam was lying on the hospital bed in the middle of the room, surrounded by numerous machines. The steady beep of the heart monitor would've bothered John on any other day but today it was welcomed, a constant reminder that Sam was alive, that his heart was still beating.
Sam himself was pale, his white face easily blending in with the white of the hospital sheets and pillowcase. His eyes were closed, sleeping off the drugs, body repairing itself in the forced slumber, chest rising steadily with each intake of air.
…
Dean was the first to move from the doorway, carefully walking towards Sam's bed before stopping a foot away from the edge. He just stood there, watching Sam sleep, a salty tear slipping out of the corner of his right eye. He hurriedly wiped the escaped tear away before his father could see him. Dean had to be strong for Sam now, and that meant no more crying.
As the walls built themselves back around Dean he edged closer to the bed. When he was so close to the bed he could feel himself bump up against the metal frame, he sat down on the edge and leaned over enough to slip his hand under the one which Sam had been resting on his own chest, before Dean grasped it in his. Dean could feel the rise and fall of Sam's chest as he breathed, could feel the thump of his little brother's heart as it beat.
Dean sensed more than saw his father approach the bed from the other side, his attention being only on Sam at the moment. So small. So pale.
Dean's eyes flickered up to see his father standing over Sam. He watched as the elder hooked his foot around the leg of a chair in the corner of the small room, sliding it as close to Sam's bed as he could get it before sitting down.
Dean saw his father lean over in his seat and place his hand on top of the same hand Dean was still holding, before sliding it off and taking a hold of Sam's other hand, squishing the small body part between both of his hands.
Dean let his attention shift back to Sam's face. He looked so peaceful, so innocent.
That's when Dean first realized that everything had changed. Sam wasn't innocent, at least not in the way he used to be. He had gone on his first hunt. He had had his first true injury. The first of what Dean knew would be followed by another…and another…
Dean changed his position so that he was lying next to Sam on the hospital bed on his side, facing Sam.
He stayed like that, unmoving, until sleep finally overcame him.
TBC…
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Sam's okay! Aren't we all happy about that? I hope that was good. Just a couple more chapters after this, don't forget to review, they help my mind work faster –wink wink–