Summary: What if Sam had a heart problem that didn't surface until now?
Disclaimer: I'll have them home by curfew!
A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed. I was going to post this tomorrow, but I loved the reviews so much that I'm posting early!
A/N2: If you love me, you'll talk to me on AIM. I seriously love talking about Supernatural. So, if you want my screen name, it's on the profile. )
While We Can
It wasn't even remotely surprising to Dean that he couldn't sleep. He had been laying in bed, tossing and turning for twenty minutes, and when it came to be a half hour, he leapt out of bed, threw his jacket on, and returned to the hospital.
Each time he closed his eyes, he heard Sam screaming, and it pried his eyes open until he could barely blink.
In the Impala, he felt the same sickening feeling he had when he was driving back to the motel. All he could think about was Sam sitting in the passenger seat, trying to breathe but not getting any oxygen. Dean jammed the key into the ignition a little harder than he should have and started driving a little too fast.
The road was seemingly stretched out more than he had hoped. It seemed like too much of a long drive, and he wondered how long it had taken them to get to the hospital. He wondered how much time had passed before Sam could actually breathe.
He shuddered, and focused his eyes back on the road.
When he made it to the hospital, it was quiet. It was an eerie sort of quiet, like when you feel there's no way anyone else can live on this planet but you. He tried to sort things out so that he could focus, but his thoughts were getting mixed up in his brain. He found Carter standing in the hallway by Jack's door. He didn't want to talk to him, didn't think he could, but it was a little kid, and he didn't have to act strong in front of him.
He strolled over to him, realizing he had passed Sam's room in the process.
"Hey Carter." Dean greeted him, moistening his lips and then chomping down on the bottom one. "How's Jack?"
Carter pressed his hands against the cool frame of the door, watching his mother fuss over Jack, whispering things that Carter couldn't hear through the metal and steel.
"He's not getting any better. Doctor doesn't think he's gonna live through he week." He paused, and watched his mother for a second longer. "His lung collapsed."
Dean watched a single tear glide over the apple of Carter's cheek and he turned to sit down on the bench down the hallway. Dean followed him.
"Your brother's gonna be okay, Carter." Dean patted his shoulder gently, and gave him a reassuring smile. This little kid, no more than eleven years old, could possibly be witnessing his baby brother's death, and all Dean could tell him was that he'd be okay.
"You don't know that." Carter mumbled, swiping at the tear and letting out an exhausted sigh from crying too much in too short a time period. "I thought you were going home to sleep."
Dean merely huffed, and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, well..."
"How's your brother?" Carter asked after a while, unsure if he was overstepping his boundaries.
"He's still in surgery." Dean didn't bother looking at Carter, just stared down the hallway like it held the meaning of life somewhere behind the paint and bricks and woodwork. "He'll be okay, though. Always is."
...Supernatural...
Dean jolted awake about two hours later when he heard someone calling to him. He had no idea he had fallen asleep. He was greatful for the rest, but the chairs here were uncomfortable. Carter was no longer beside him, probably went off to see his brother. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly and looked up to see the doctor standing in front of him. Sedwick. He didn't catch his name before.
"Dean?" Dr. Sedwick asked, eyeing him up with both concern and sympathy. "Sam just got out of surgery. Would you like to see him?"
All traces of exhaustion quickly left Dean's body as he stood up. "'Course." He got his game face on and followed Dr. Sedwick down the hallway.
Dean felt like an outsider again. He felt like this simply couldn't be happening to him. To Sam. And it shouldn't have been happening. Dean had 8 months left with his brother. And, he sure as Hell didn't want Sam to go before him.
Dr. Sedwick led Dean to Sam's hospital door. "He's resting, but stable." He turned to Dean and let out a small sigh. With a forced reassuring smile, he patted Dean's shoulder, which only made Dean feel like he was 12 years old again.
Dr. Sedwick walked himself back to wherever the Hell he came from, and Dean watched Sam for a moment before he actually went it. It made him feel like there was a dead weight in his stomach, seeing his brother like that. He was so still, and so pale that it made him think back to when Sam actually died. Dean held back the wave of nausea that was trying to make it's way through.
He opened the door and clenched his teeth together to keep from breaking down right then and there. He took in a deep breath and sat down on a stool that he had pulled over from the other side of the room. Out of instinct, he pulled Sam's limp hand into his and rubbed his fingers over the cool flesh.
"Come on Sammy, I'm gonna be completely gray by the time I'm 30." Dean joked, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. Dean rested his head in one hand, while the other still clung onto his brother's. Even with a simple touch, he felt safer. He could feel that Sam was alive.
Sam was certainly alive, but he still looked so damned horrible. There were deep circles under his eyes that, at first glance, looked like bruises. His entire body looked gaunt and worn out, and his lips were pursed as if he was in pain, despite the fact that he was more drugged out than he had ever been.
It occurred to Dean at that point that the deep grimace, almost carved into his features, was something different entirely. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were squeezed so tight Dean thought he might explode.
"Sammy?" Dean asked, leaning forward to press the call button. Sam's eyes didn't open, but his fist clenched over Dean's hand as he let out a deep groan that sounded completely un-Sam.
The monitors surrounding his brother's bed started to wail and screech in unison, a sound that scared Dean half to death. Sam still didn't have his eyes open, and the groaning had become louder, his grasp on Dean's hand tighter.
"Come on, little brother." Dean cooed, brushing back the unruly bangs on his forehead. The nurse came in and called for Dr. Sedwick, who was looking a tad bent out of shape.
"What happened?" He asked, rushing forward to give Sam some sort of sedative.
Dean stood up, prying Sam's hand away from his own and trying to mask his horror.
"I-I don't know." Dean covered his mouth with his hand as he stared down at his now-calm brother.
"I'm going to have to ask you step out until we get him completely stable again." Dr. Sedwick sounded apprehensive, but stern.
Dean stared down at Sam for a moment longer, wishing he could be the one to calm him. He was so used to being his brother's doctor, and watching other people care for him just didn't sit right.
"Yeah...yeah, okay."
...Supernatural...
Dean returned to see his brother two hours later. He was completely calm, and Dr. Sedwick had even told Dean that Sam might wake up. He was partially thrilled at this thought, because with the Hell he had gone through, he would have given anything to see his brother's eyes. The other part of him couldn't bare with seeing him suffer so much. He wanted Sam to sleep through everything until he wasn't hurting anymore.
Again, Dean took Sam's hand in his. The machines had quieted by now, but the steady beeping caused a strange sensation to rise up in Dean. These machines were what Sam needed to live right now. He just wished they would have been a little quieter so he could actually think about something other than his brother dying.
For a few minutes, all Dean did was watch Sam rest. He carried with him a silent hurt. Dean couldn't quite catch what it was, but it made him nervous all the same. His body seemed too frail for a 24 year old.
Sam's eyes started to flutter open, his eyelashes like butterfly wings. Dean smiled.
"De...an?" Sam cried out, his hand gripping Dean's a little tighter.
"I'm here." Dean assured him, watching his brother's sluggish movements. Sam was silent for a moment, and then let a soft, but almost unhuman cry.
"Jesus." He was visibly fighting back the tears. Dean had to swallow twice to fight back the bile from seeing his brother in so much goddamned pain.
Dean again pressed the call button, making sure that his brother would get whatever pain medication he needed, and fast. He simply couldn't bear to see Sam like this.
"Take it easy." Dean rubbed over Sam's forearm gently. The nurse came in and saw that Sam was awake, but waited for Dean to say something.
"He's in a lot of pain." Dean muttered without taking his eyes off of Sam. The nurse upped his dose, adjusted his pillows and left.
As Sam started to get more comfortable, he also became more talkative, which was fine by Dean, as long as he wasn't pushing himself too hard by doing so.
"Why does it feel like my chest was ripped open?" Sam grunted, continuing to hold onto his brother's hand. The grip was desperate now, needy.
"Maybe 'cause it was." Dean suggested jokingly, hoping it wouldn't offend Sam. He didn't take offense to it. He just turned his head to stare at his brother.
"What is it?" Dean pressed, his stomach still churning nervously.
Sam was hesitant, and didn't answer until he was sure the pain of breathing was gone. "I had a vision, Dean."
Dean shut his eyes and sighed shakily. "Sam. You haven't had a vision in a long time. It was probably just a dream." His mind wandered back to when Sam was noticeably in pain, groaning and suffering. Could it have been then?
"Dean. I know the difference." Sam shook his head slightly, wincing a little. "No, this was a vision. I just don't know why I'm getting them now."
Dean merely sighed, running his free hand through his hair and over his face. He didn't want his brother to be having visions. After Sam was discharged, he didn't want to have to worry about Sam having more visions, nightmares, migraines. The kid had been put through too much. Dean didn't think he could bare it anymore.
"Well," Dean cleared his throat, "what did you see?"
...To Be Continued...