Summary: What if Sam had a heart problem that didn't surface until now?
Disclaimer: I'll have them home by curfew!
Author's Note: Sorry. Go ahead, hate me for the late update. Ahhh! It's kinda hard getting this done, now. I've done a lot of RPing and it's so much fun that I stop with the fics. I hope you understand if updates are a little more spaced out from now on. Thanks for the reviews, and I hope that you're all enjoying this story so far. I appreciate the support!
While We Can
Sam shut his eyes and for a moment Dean thought he had fallen asleep. Reluctantly, his eyes opened again and he turned his head towards his brother.
"I saw you." Sam spoke quietly, like speaking was too much a burden.
"You're not the first who's had dreams about me." Dean winked and beamed at Sam, the smile only reaching his lips.
Sam gave Dean one of those looks where Dean knew he shouldn't be joking around, but all the same felt the need to lighten the mood.
"Sorry." Dean muttered, absentmindedly rubbing at the back of his neck.
"You were, uh, at the Gates of Hell." Sam said without looking at his brother. As he spoke, it was like he was telling a story inside of his mind without realizing there was an audience.
It was peaceful, for some strange reason. Everything was quiet. It was dark outside, and the clouds were black with rain and thunder. Dean was standing in a sort of gateway. There was light coming from it, and Sam thought it may have looked heavenly somehow, if it hadn't been for the hellhounds at his brother's feet, baiting him. Dean looked down at them and got this pained look on his face, as if going to Hell wasn't enough of a punishment, and the hounds were a constant reminder. At that exact moment, Sam wanted to dive in through the gate to save Dean. He loved his brother more than anything and he simply couldn't stand the way he looked, the eerie silence, the waiting hounds.
"You weren't fighting with anyone. You just kind of...looked back at me and smiled." Sam hung his head and swallowed.
Dean hung in the balance between heaven and hell and sighed, his lips upturning in a sad smile. Sam shook his head, reached for his brother. His mouth formed words that Sam couldn't make out. Dean kept the smile, soft tears pooling up in his eyes, and stepped into the gateway.
"Well that's not the way I would have expected myself to go out." Dean cocked his eyebrows.
"You're not going out at all Dean." Sam's jaw tensed and there was an immense determination behind his eyes.
"Sam." Dean lifted his head so that he was staring directly at Sam. It was the kind of look he gave him when he demanded Sam's full attention. "You need to stop this. The researching, sneaky phone calls to everyone in Dad's journal, it has to stop." Dean rubbed a hand over his jaw and tried not to focus on why Sam was here. All that stress the poor kid was carrying with him, all that fear, anxiety. It was too much, and he couldn't carry it with him anymore. "You've gotta let it go."
Sam's chest tightened and he felt the familiar sinking sensation fill up the hole in his stomach. "You're a selfish bastard, Dean." Tears pooled up and Sam had to bite down on his lip to keep them from falling. With the emotional exhaustion from the hospital trip, and the vision Sam had about Dean, he was falling apart, and quickly.
Dean lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose to keep himself calm. "Sammy, we can talk about this later. My first priority is getting you fixed up." Always.
Sam just rested his head on the pillow and sighed, shutting his eyes out so he wouldn't see his brother watching over him.
...Supernatural...
"Hey, Carter!" Dean smiled as he saw the little tyke at a vending machine, getting a soda.
"Hey, Dean." He forced a smile, opening the soda and taking a sip. He looks tired, and much older than he is, despite the fact that he's probably only 11 years old at the most.
"What's up?" Dean asked, sitting down on the bench, shoulder to shoulder with Carter.
He looks sort of crestfallen, like a little lost angel on your shoulder.
"Eh. Jack's not getting any better."
Dean nodded, pursed his lips, and turned to the other direction, watching the people move about without really seeing them. "What'd the doc say?"
Carter shrugged, "Nothing I could understand. I just know they don't even have a release date for him."
Dean shook his head. Why do the worst things have to happen to the best people? "That bad, huh?" He scratched at his head absentmindedly.
"Yeah.."
"I'm sorry, Carter." Dean apologized. He gave him that soft smile and clasped his hands together, hanging his head in the process.
"'Not your fault.." He mumbled. "'My job to take care of him." He said.
Dean turned to look up at the little boy and was silent for a few moments. This little boy was exactly like Dean, put in the same situation. He had to take care of his little brother Jack, just like Dean had to take care of Sammy. It was the only job he had in this world.
"I know how you feel, Carter." Dean said, gazing off down the hallway. "Like it's your job to protect them." He turned back to Carter, who nodded wearily.
"Well," Dean continued. "Now you've gotta let them do their job."
"What's their job?" Carter asked, his eyes laced with mixed emotions.
"They've gotta find their way back."
...Supernatural...
Sam was in and out of a restless sleep when Dean came in again. Truth be told, the way he had acted before was nagging at him. Sam was never one to hold a grudge, but he also couldn't do much for his guilty conscience.
He shouldn't have told Dean he was selfish. To an extent, he meant it, but there was no point in arguing with him when he didn't have much time left. Sam needed to get back on top of his game so he could get back to research. He needed to find the solution.
"Hey Princess, how ya feeling?" Dean smirked, perking an eyebrow. He sat down on the uncomfortable hospital chair and leaned over towards Sam's bed. He looked tired, as if he hadn't been getting enough sleep. It wouldn't come as a surprise to Dean, because Sam usually didn't get much shut-eye.
"Good." Sam lied. He paused, wondering whether or not he should 'go there'. "Actually, I was wondering if you could bring me my laptop." He cleared his throat and cocked his head to the other side.
"Sam." Dean said in an almost annoyed tone, raising his eyebrows. "You're not doing research."
Sam gawked at his brother, even though he knew that Dean was being completely reasonable. "Why, Dean? I feel fine."
"Because I'm the oldest, and I said so." Dean smirked for Sam's sake. He didn't return the easy smile, just huffed.
Dr. Sedwick slipped into the room, with a smile on his face. "Glad you're awake, Sam. How are you feeling?"
Sam hated being taken care of, hated feeling weak and vulnerable, and Dean that Sam wanted more than anything to get out of this hospital as fast as he humanly could, whether he was fully healed or not.
"Good." Sam declared cheerily, and Dean could see right through it.
Dr. Sedwick moved to Sam, pressing buttons and changing IV bags and fixing things on the monitor. Dean had no idea what was going on, and didn't pay much attention to what the doc was doing, just so long as it helped his brother.
"Well, Sam, you did well in surgery, everything seems to be okay." He nodded. Dean nodded back at him, his eyes on Sam.
"The tubes in your airway and bladder will be removed after a few days, once we make sure your body is strong enough to handle it."
Dean still kept his gaze on Sam as his little brother spoke. "So, uh, once the tubes are out, I can go?"
Dean shook his head. The kid was always trying to push himself. Dr. Sedwick's smile fell slightly. "Well, Sam, you are going to need lifelong care. Checkups are going to be mandatory to make sure you don't run into any more problems with your heart."
Sam's jaw dropped. "Lifelong?" He turned his head to Dean, who had his lips pursed and was silent.
Dean's mind went into overdrive. Once he was gone, how would Sam take care of himself? His brother was persistent, and there was no way that Sam would agree to going back to live a normal life. He'd go and find a way to bring his brother back, and by then, they would have come full circle. Back to hunting. If Sam was on a hunt, if he faced something dangerous, he wouldn't be able to take care of his heart. For once since the Deal had been made, Dean wanted to get out of it, to save his brother, to keep him from danger. 'Couldn't show it though. He had to be strong for Sammy.
Dr. Sedwick stayed with them for a few more minutes, describing how Sam's recovery would be, and gave it a few months until he'd be fully healed and ready to go. But, to Sam, that was far too long. The doctor left and the two brothers were left alone.
"Sammy, we're gonna have to stop hunting, you know that, right?" Dean fingered the pendant wrapped around his neck absentmindedly.
"Dean, no. We're gonna hunt." After Mary, Jess, and John had died, the brothers wanted more than anything to kill the Yellow Eyed Demon, and they were successful, but now they had a different obstacle to overcome, one that Sam in particular was not going to give up on. His brother was not going to die, and they certainly weren't going to completely take themselves out of the Supernatural world where Sam wouldn't have much of a chance to stop his brother's fate.
"Sam. Listen to me. Your heart is what's important to me, not the deal, not demons, nothing." Dean's voice was rough and harsh, a tone that forced the reasoning into Sam's head.
Sam didn't feel like arguing, he was too tired to bicker over this. Either way, he was going to find a way to save his brother. His mind started to go into an almost catatonic state. His nerves were frayed, he was stressed out, and the entire ordeal with Dean was putting more strain on his heart, which he wasn't taking too kindly too. He just wanted to get out of here, just wanted to go back to a hotel where they could research and find a way to save Dean. His heart meant nothing right now. If Sam had to live with this defect, then so be it, but he certainly wasn't going to go through it without Dean.
He didn't know when it happened, because he started to lose track of time, but he started to tremble. It was a tremble caused by neither cold nor fear, and it overtook his body like it was nothing. His limbs started to feel tense and hard, and started to jerk. A violent twitch that had Dean screaming, and doctors worrying. He couldn't hear Dean's voice, just knew he was shouting, knew he was trying to pull Sam back from wherever he had gone.
Dean was hovering above him, watching his brother's taut muscles jerk and flail. A seizure? Doctors and nurses rushed past him, sending him out of the room. One muscular doctor wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him away. Dean pushed and fought, watching his brother seize, and the heart monitors wail.
And boy, were they screaming.
...To Be Continued...