Not Like This – Chapter 4

The tube had been removed and Sam could finally speak. Dean watched as his brother struggled to form words, his voice hard and grating, his throat raw from the tube and lack of moisture "Dean – what happened?" Sam's eyes were wide, pleading, childlike and Dean put a hand on his upper arm, gently caressing the bicep, massaging.

"You got sick Sam" Dean felt his stomach clench and his body felt weak with relief as three days of pent up fear came rushing out of him "Why didn't you tell me you felt so bad?" he found himself clenching Sam's muscle tightly now, anger and panic flooding out "If you'd have said something we could have gotten you to a doctor sooner and none of this would have happened"

"Sorry Dean" Sam seemed to visibly deflate and Dean felt instant guilt; the doctor had warned him that Sam would be weak, disorientated, maybe suffer from mild depression. 'Great Dean' he berated himself angrily 'Great way to help your brother'.

"No I'm sorry Sam" Dean sat down on the bed and brushed a hand across Sam's cheek "I should have taken more notice, I should have taken more care" he picked up a glass from the bedside table and poured some water to give to his brother "Things are so fucked up"

Sam took the water and sipped it gratefully. Since waking up he had been prodded, poked and had a fair amount of blood and other fluids taken out of him. His back was sore through the lumber puncture and his neck and throat still ached and burned. He felt slightly sick and disconnected, as if his body was here and his head somewhere else. The only real solid thing at the moment was his brother and he wanted to cling to Dean like he had done when they were children, when his big brother was not only his friend, but his protector and his hero. "The doctor says there's no lasting damage right?" his voice sounded wrong, even to his own ears and he coughed, sipping again at the water "I mean – I'm gonna get out of here?"

"She's pretty confident your going to make a full recovery – yeah" Dean smiled, wiping the water from Sam's chin "But you are gonna have to stay in ICU for a few more days and then at least a week on a normal ward" he grinned, a slight but reassuring sight "And then she recommended two weeks recovery at home"

"Yeah – right" Sam's smile was slight, only touching his dimples "I don't understand what happened Dean? How did I catch meningitis? Why me?" his voice wavered on the last question and Dean swallowed hard. What could he say?

'Why me?" It was his brother's mantra and Dean could hardly blame Sam for feeling self pity right now. Sam had gone through so much and felt as if there was so much more to come. He had lost his mother, his girlfriend and his dad; he lived in constant fear of becoming something evil; he had to endure painful visions and long spells of guilt when these visions came true without Sam being able to prevent them. They had both been to hell and back these past few months and it was hard to know just how far they had to fall before they could start climbing back up again. Dean huffed and fidgeted on the bed; he missed his dad, he missed him so much that it hurt both physically and mentally. He had lost the better part of his family and now all he had left was Sam – and Sam was broken – and Dean just didn't know how to put him back together again "It wasn't anything you did or didn't do Sam" Dean stroked his brother's arm "It could have been some snotty kid in a diner sneezing on you for all we know – I guess it's just one of those things"

"I thought it was the flu" Sam winced as he shuffled in the bed. It was hard to move with the IV's stuck in his hand; his bladder felt full and his head hurt "I'm sorry Dean – I just thought it was the flu"

"Don't keep apologising Sam" Dean felt a sudden rush of anger "None of this is your fault ok? Don't beat yourself up over it – just be thankful that you are out of it – all in one piece and with your brain intact – that's all you can do"

"Maybe it would have been better if I had died" Sam's eyes were bleak, distant "Then I wouldn't have to hold you to the promise you made"

"Fuck Sam" Dean shot of the bed, his voice raised in anger. He was aware of the other people in the unit staring at him and he shrugged an apology, leaning against his brother's bed, his forehead pressed against the headboard "I don't want you to die Sam" he hissed, through gritted teeth "You are all I have and I'll fight to the very last to keep you safe, to make sure that you stay my irritating, annoying, whiney little brother – I'm not worried about the promise I made Sam – cos you ain't ever gonna turn evil – not whilst I'm around – not whilst I can do something about it"

"Dean" brightness flickered in Sam's eyes and lifted a hand to touch Dean's face. It was trembling, unsure, weighed down by IV needles, but it was warm and alive "Dean – I need to say this ok? Please don't stop me – just let me say it – just this once"

"Sam" Dean sat down again, leaning into the touch, feeling the tenderness in his brother's caress. He knew what was coming, fuck he had avoided it for years, decades, but he couldn't avoid it any longer, it was time to get it out in the open and maybe then they could move on.

"I love you Dean" Sam's voice was firmer now "You are everything to me – and – if I cling to that – then I think we can get through this"

"Sam" Dean sounded as hoarse as Sam did and his body was shaking. He wanted to respond, to reply, but he had no words. Instead he just leant into his brother's touch and let his brother love him. TBC