Author's Note: Sooo, this is the last chapter, you know, that regulation 'finish up' chapter, all lovey-dovey… well, not like that, but bit of a chick-flick moment. Anyways, thanks to everyone who's reviewed, and I hope everyone's enjoyed this story!

Chapter 23: Covering Up

"Then they rushed the guy off to patch him up. A doctor took a good look at Ash's leg, and my arm, told us we'd live." Dean gave a chuckle, absently scratching at the bandage around the arm the hellhounds had bitten. "We told them we had come across the guy being attacked by a pack of dogs. Not too far from the truth really."

The hunter sighed and leaned forward on the bed, determined not to be down. His eyes roved over Sam's form. His still unconscious form.

Still, Dean wasn't going to be upset by that. According to Doctor Ellis, Sam was a miracle. Last night he had been all but gone, crashing about one in the morning. When the demon had been killing him. And then, just as they were about to call it… Sam's heart had started again. The doctors couldn't believe it.

Dean could. Sam always had been a stubborn guy. Like now. It was noon the next day and he was refusing to wake up. He was off the ventilator, for which Dean was thankful. He hated seeing Sam on that. And he was healing. In fact, Ellis said Sam was healing faster than normal. Just another step on the miracle, the doctor said.

Dean shifted on his seat. He had told Sam what had happened twice already. No response still. He sighed again and leaned back, continuing.

"I couldn't believe Morgan," he said with a shake of his head. "Guy calls himself a weekend hunter. Hunts on his time off and when there's something in the city. I guess that's why we've never actually been here before. Knew it was a demon after checking out Mahone's little lair, the one that was supposed to be his parent's place. Found traces of sulphur and everything. Not bad, I guess."

He paused, eyes roving once more, though this time he was checking the monitors. The one for his heart was steady, strong, calm. Ellis was beyond relieved at that fact. Apparently Sam's heart had gone back to normal almost immediately. And his pneumonia was fast disappearing.

He chuckled, turning his sight to his hands. "I gotta say, the cop came in handy. I don't think we could have taken the demon without him. Though he did kinda panic when the hellhounds showed up. And he was kinda useless after that. But I think that was because he didn't have a gun. Still, first time a cop's come in handy. Well, not including that chick with those hicks. Or whatshisname, Holden, back with those vampires. But the rest of the time…"

He trailed off, looking down at Sam once more. Then he looked away, feeling frustrated. He just wished his little brother would wake up. Ellis had spouted some prattle about his body needing to rest, but Dean found he didn't care. He just wanted Sam back.

He sighed, rubbing his face and looking down as he leaned back. This chair was so uncomfortable. Shifting for the thousandth or so time, he gave another chuckle.

"I saw Landly again this morning," he told his unconscious brother for the third time. "Damn near shit himself. I swear he started hyperventilating, the freaking pussy."

"You made him wet his pants?"

The hoarse, whispered question made Dean jump to his feet, heart pounding. Sam was moving, eyes flickering beneath closed eyelids. But he had spoken. His eyes weren't open, but he had spoken.

Dean grabbed Sam's hand. "Sammy, can you hear me?"

Sam mumbled something else sleepily, apparently falling back to unconsciousness. Dean felt a trill of fear.

"Hey, Sammy, open your eyes for me." No response. "Sammy, come on, you can do it. Just open your eyes, come on."

Sam groaned, shifting his head. But his lids fluttered, and his eyes opened and Dean had to lock his knees to stop from collapsing with the relief he had flooding his system.

"Man, isn't that a sight for sore eyes," Dean whispered, grinning idiotically. He thought he had good reason.

Sam gave a half smile, looking around. "What happened?" he asked, eyes coming back to rest on Dean.

The older brother took his seat again, not letting go of Sam's hand. What had he been saying about that? He didn't care.

"I found you, Sammy. Got you out of there. How you feeling?"

Sam shrugged and then winced, half lifting his hand in an attempt to put it over his injured shoulder. It fell back before it rose more than five inches.

"Like I was run over by a car," he said, wincing. He was still hoarse, but Dean didn't even hear it. He grinned a little more.

"You kind of were, Sam," he told his little brother. Sam gave him a disparaging glance.

"I know, I remember. Can I have a drink?"

Den jumped, hearing Sam's hoarseness for the first time. "Absolutely, sorry." He grabbed a glass he had been using and placed it at Sam's lips. He paused as his little brother drank, but continued as he put the glass back. "How much do you remember?"

He had to know, but his resolve was almost shattered as Sam glanced away, blinking back memories. The younger man shook his head.

"Everything," he said. "Even when I shouldn't. I know I was out of it after what the demon did… but I remember all that." He gave a weak chuckle. "I thought you weren't real."

Dean smiled with him. "I know. You said I smelled funky."

Sam's nose wrinkled. "You did. What had you done, gone swimming in shit?"

Dean laughed, more from relief than anything. He cut off as the door opened and Ellis walked in, shocked.

"Sam, you're awake!"

The younger man looked at Dean, who smiled comfortingly. "This is your doctor, Doctor Ellis."

Sam looked back at the man. "Hi," he greeted uneasily.

Ellis nodded back, smiling. "How are you feeling?" he asked, grabbing a tiny light from his pocket.

Sam avoided shrugging this time. "Tired. Sore. Sore. But I think that's a good thing."

Ellis nodded, only half-listening. "Opposed to what you were feeling yesterday, yes."

Sam looked at Dean again. "What was I feeling yesterday?" he asked, stare flicking between the two men. Ellis shook his head.

"Nothing," he explained. "At least, most of the time. And that was bad." Sam nodded in agreement. "But you're getting better now. I'll be back later to explain some things, answer your questions." He shot a look at Dean. "But for now I think I'll give you two some time."

Dean thanked him with a glance and watched him leave. When he turned back, Sam was frowning. "What is it?" Dean asked, mirroring the look.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing. How's Ash and Anya?"

"Didn't you hear me telling you?" Dean asked with a grin. When Sam shook his head, confused, the older man shrugged. "They're fine. Ash has a sore leg, but it's not broken or anything. Some holy water in the car cleaned up the hellhound wounds pretty well."

Sam frowned again. "Hellhounds?" he demanded. "So you managed to kill the demon then?"

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. "Give me some credit, Sammy. Besides," he added, losing his good-naturedness and smiling sadly. "You wouldn't be alive if I hadn't. Well, actually the hellhounds did…" He trailed off as Sam looked away, and he felt the air grow tense with discomfort. Dean sighed mentally.

"Sam, Anya told me…" he began. Sam snapped his head around, eyes glinting somewhat dangerously.

"Told you what?" he asked, voice hollow. Dean shrugged, refusing to look away.

"Everything," he replied. "As much as she knew. And I'm just saying, if you ever need to… you know…"

Sam cut him off by looking away and closing his eyes. When he looked back, he was Dean's strong little brother once more. "I'm fine… Well, not fine, exactly, but I will be. Thanks Dean, but no thanks. I'd rather just forget it."

Dean nodded, probably far too quickly. "Just, you know, if you ever need it… just say the word."

Sam smiled. "I will. Thanks." He paused, before grinning again. "So how exactly did you get rid of the demon?"

Dean glanced at him before smiling. Leaning forward, he settled down to tell the story for a fourth time.

Evening found Sam sitting by himself in the hospital garden. He watched the sun set, so glad that he could. If he focused on that swollen ball of weak light, he could almost drown out his own screams.

He sat on the bench to the side, unaware Dean had occupied the same space just over twenty-four hours earlier. He sat a little uncomfortably, the bullet wound in his hip making it hard. His arm was in a sling, held close to his side, and the doctor, Ellis, had said he would have to have it on for a while yet. He hated the damn thing already.

But he was alive. And that was all he cared about.

He heard Dean coming long before he saw his older brother. Could hear the pounding feet, questions, demands aimed at no one in particular and anyone who would answer. Sam supposed he shouldn't have just left the room by himself like that. Even if he had taken his IV stand with him… most of the way.

Dean raced across the windows looking into the garden, and Sam chuckled as he almost missed seeing his younger brother sitting on the bench to the side. The older hunter did a double take, pausing and twisting his body almost comically. Then, giving a furious scowl, his brother pushed the door open and stormed over.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Dean demanded as soon as he was close enough. Sam smiled comfortingly at the garden's other occupant, an old man in a wheelchair, and the man grinned back, all-knowing. Then the younger hunter slid over on the bench with a wince, making room for Dean. His brother took the seat instantly, turning to watch Sam.

"What were you thinking?" Dean asked again, somewhat gentler this time. "You shouldn't be walking about yet. Christ, you only woke up a few hours ago."

Sam gave him one of those shit-eating grins. "I had to get away from Anya and Ash. I mean, they're great, but they're worse than you when it comes to mothering."

Dean looked torn between amusement and indignation. Sam gave a snort of laughter, and Dean shook his head.

"Well, you seem a lot better," he observed, sitting around in the seat to watch the sun as well. Sam gave a half-shrug with his uninjured shoulder.

"As well as can be," he muttered back. Dean nearly flinched, but ignored it.

"Do you know how freaked Ellis was when he found you gone? And then when he found the stand. Nice ditch by the way, a broom cupboard, I like."

The younger man grinned. "It's an art…" he trailed off, losing his good mood. "I went to see that couple."

Dean gave a start. "What?"

Sam half-shrugged again. "I wanted them to know I was sorry."

Dean looked away, glancing down. "What did they say?" he asked quietly. Sam looked away as well.

"Nothing," Sam answered hopelessly. "They didn't want to see me."

Dean gave a growl. "They just don't understand, Sam," he began, but Sam shook his head, interrupting.

"No, they know about what happened. Why I told about their room. But they're still… not angry, I guess, but still working through it. It's going to take them awhile, I think." The younger man sighed. "I guess that by the time they actually do though, we'll be long gone. It doesn't matter."

Dean shifted uncomfortable. "We're not going anywhere for a while yet, Sammy. You've got a lot of rehab to work through, getting your shoulder back to full strength."

Sam shrugged again, testing said shoulder as he did so. "We'll see. It's not like we've never skipped out on that stuff before."

Dean nodded. "True. But we've never been shot before. We'll see how we go, hey?"

Sam nodded and they fell into silence, both watching the sun as it set above the hospital roof.

"Did Dad say anything to you?" Sam asked after a moment. He glanced across at Dean. "Before he died."

Dean paused before answering, feeling his heart thud, and putting on one of those confused looks. "Like what?" the older man asked carefully. Sam shrugged, wincing as he forgot about his shoulder.

"Like… don't worry. Never mind." He sighed, looking away.

Dean shifted on the bench, not believing he was about to say any of this. "Dad said…" he began, before trailing off. Sam looked back at him. "He said, that he loved us," the older hunter said, looking down. "Told us to be careful. That he was proud of us." His voice began to choke as he continued, and it wasn't all for the grief he still felt. "And he told me to watch out for you. To keep you safe. Told me to tell you to watch out for me, too."

"And that was it?" Sam asked, looking up at the setting sun. Dean nodded.

"That was it."

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, and even the sunlight raining down on them didn't seem so great. Dean glanced away, slightly uncomfortable. He could never remember a time when he had lied to Sam like this before. He could already feel he weight.

And then Sam, oblivious to Dean's sudden burden, smiled and chuckled. Dean frowned at him.

"What?"

Sam chuckled once more, looking Dean square in the eye. "I can't believe Landly actually pissed himself."

Dean laughed as well, and even though it started out hollow, he felt the warmth fill him again. And they laughed together, watching the sun set on their problems for another day.

So, just wanted to get it kinda back on track with the show, with Dean's all emotional stuff and etc, etc.

Anyways, hoped you liked it, and there will be more. I mean, if you want…