Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter One.

Yes yes, it has been forever. But that's what happens when life gets in the way. A special thank you to Jill for helping with the medical jargon. It would be a very silly chapter without it. Enjoy and don't forget to review!

Chapter 3: Accusin' and Abusin'

2 hours and 37 minutes later found Dean pacing the waiting room like a caged cat. Every few seconds, he glanced up, checking to see if a doctor was exiting Sammy's room. The nervous glances from the other people waiting had not gone unnoticed, but Dean chalked it up to the waves of tension radiating off his body.

"Family of Sam Harris?"

Harris? Oh, right. Dean's head snapped up. It was a doctor in blue scrubs. Dean could see blood on his pant leg and shoes. Sam's blood.

"I'm his brother. Is he okay?"

The doctor glanced down at his chart. Dean sighed impatiently, knowing the doctor was just checking his notes. But for fuck's sake, don't call me over if you aren't ready!

"I'm Dr. Welling. You brought Sam in, correct?"

Dean nodded, tapping his knuckles together. The doctor barely noticed.

"Your brother sustained quite a bit of trauma to the chest, but he was very lucky considering. You said he fell onto a branch?"

Dean crossed his arms, nodding. He raised his eyebrows, daring the doctor to ask another question without giving any information about his brother. I will so make you a patient here, buddy.

The doctor gave a quick, polite smile and looked down once more. "Well, it seems that this 'branch' did a bit of damage to Sam's chest. It appeared to glance off to the right of his sternum. It cracked a rib and passed by the others, which is good. It missed his heart. Unfortunately, his lung was pierced and it collapsed. When you brought him it, it was already filled with blood. We had to insert a tube into his chest to clear the lung and to re-inflate it. It's going to stay in for a while until we are sure his lung will heal." The doctor paused and cleared his throat, obviously stalling. "I have to tell you, pulling the branch out of his chest was one of the worst things you could have done at the time. I'm just saying that it would have been better if you had called an ambulance to the scene instead of ripping your brother's chest apart. There's a lot of muscle damage and tearing around the entry wound. That will heal with time and probably with a bit of therapy."

If the doctor said anything else, Dean's brain didn't register it. An accusation of not doing the right thing by getting his brother to the hospital was more than Dean stand at the moment. He held his hand up, cutting the doctor off.

"Look doc." Dean gave his best 'take no crap' look straight into the man's eyes. "I did what I had to do to get my brother help. He would have bled to death, okay?" He continued without waiting for the doctor's reply. "Now I want to see my brother if you would be so kind as to give me his room number." Dean gave a small smile, barely cutting down on the sarcasm in his voice.

The doctor gave his own small smile back. "Of course Mr. Harris. But may I suggest you change first? I would like your brother to not have a heart attack when he sees you."

Dean glanced down, comprehending why the entire waiting room was giving off the 'scared kitten in corner' vibe. From his shirt down to his sneakers was one big blood stain, as if he had fallen face first into a crimson puddle. He stood quickly, his ears bright pink, and mumbled a 'thanks' before running to the bathroom door.

He smashed into the tiled room, barely making it to a stall before heaving everything in his stomach into the toilet. He gagged on the bile, vomiting again. He kneeled, eyes closed, with his head against the seat. Dean could feel his arms begin to shake, his body resisting from trying to do anything other than staying where he was. He forced himself to breathe evenly, knowing he wouldn't be able to stop if he let so much as a tear fall. Stop it Dean. Just stop it.

Dean stood, flushing the toilet and wiped his mouth. He walked to the sink, starting at his reflection in the mirror. He didn't look like a person so much as a red popsicle with human features. With a muffled cry, Dean ripped his shirt off, throwing it into the sink and turned the water on full. He grabbed paper towels from the wall, scrubbing his arms and chest clean of blood. Sam's blood. There's too much… no way someone can lose that much blood and still… don't think that. He's alive, the doc said so. But he didn't say he was okay… just alive. Oh, god, he has to be okay, damn it! He wiped harder, barely noticing his skin beginning to burn. Get off me, you don't belong on me. You should have stayed in Sam, where you are supposed to be. What the hell would do that to Sam's chest? "WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO HIM!"

Dean froze as the sound of a stall door opening brought reality back into focus. A blonde head poked out. A girl's head. Her eye's widened at the sight of a blood-stained, but very well muscled, man standing at the sinks, one of which was overflowing due to a shirt blocking the drain.

"Ummm, this is the ladies' room." She raised her eyebrows as the man turned around as if to find a sign to prove it. His face was suddenly red again, but not with blood. His eye's shifted down, obviously embarrassed beyond a normal range of embarrassment. Which made pointing out the fountain of a sink splashing onto his boots that much harder. "And you might want to stop that. Maintenance will kill you."

Dean suddenly jumped into action, turning the sink off and pulling his shirt free. He held it in one hand, staring at it like the lost cause it was. Too much blood staying on for too long. He glanced at the girl, who had made her way to the sinks during his fury of activity. She smiled gently. "I don't think you can save it."

Dean nodded, tossing it back into the sink. He thrusting his hands into his pockets, suddenly quite aware how odd he must look half naked with wet pants and squeaky boots. He turned, opening his mouth to explain to find her staring quite expectedly into his eyes. I don't think I've ever seen such dark eyes. Her eyes rolled, clearly annoyed. She raised her hand, pointing to the door. "Ladies room. Me girl. You boy. Me in. You out."

Dean's eyes widened; he nodded silently, practically running out. He could have sworn his ears were on fire when he heard a small laugh as the door swung shut. He glanced to the side, grabbing a pair of scrubs from a shelf before walking straight into the bathroom which would have a bit less resistance to his presence. Smooth Dean, real smooth.

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Okay, so I lied... this chapter was pretty short too. But I swear, they'll get a bit more interesting as we move along. And if you like SN videos, check out my first video Orange Sky on R&R helps, it really does!