The way ended up taking it's sweet time. Nearly four days had passed. Bobby had decided to make a run back home for more research in his older archives. Dean got the idea it would be a quick trip, as clearly Bobby hated to leave them. Dean assured him they would be okay, that he was to take his time to find what he needed and to drive carefully. They already had enough going on with Sam in the hospital. He didn't want Bobby in here too because he'd rushed to get back to them. That earned him a frown and a grudging nod. Now there was nothing but waiting.

Dean spent nearly all his time in the chair at Sam's side. Only moving when he absolutely had to. Like now. Dean grimaced as he emerged from the fog he'd drifted into while thinking. His butt was numb and his tail bone hurt. He shifted in his chair trying to get comfortable. When that failed, he groaned and stood up. Ouch. The creaks and cracks that followed told Dean he'd sat too long. He leaned over and brushed Sam's chestnut hair from his forehead.

"Hey, Sammy. I'm gonna run to the cafeteria real quick. I'll be back soon, don't worry." The same stillness held the room except for the machines and the whoosh of the one breathing for Sam. Feeling low and needing a sense of normalcy, Dean added. "You know you owe me little bro. Crappy hospital coffee and food."

Nothing. As usual. But the nurse and doctor had told them Sam could probably hear them, so he continued to talk to his brother as it was the only comfort and support he could give. Turning to go, he near bumped into Jack.

"Hey." The EMT greeted entering and looking over at the beds occupant. Dean could see the shift in his eyes. It was the same look he and Bobby shared every time they returned to the room to find no change.

"Hey man. I was just on my way out. Think you can sit with him while I run down to grab a coffee or something?"

Dean and Bobby had both come to like and trust the man. He'd taken a personal interest in Sam. Seeing him this way wasn't as hard on him, but it certainly upset him. A job like his, you want to think what you do matters and you always hope for a happy ending. Jack hoped they'd all be getting one.

"Sure man. Take your time." He said this knowing full well Dean never left his brother longer than it took to race down, grab the first thing he could and come back. Jack was afraid Dean wasn't taking care of himself. He'd slept every night in the chair Jack now sat in, not to mention half the time skipping meals because the waits in the caf line kept him from Sam too long. Not that he could blame him after the scare they'd all had three days ago.

Bobby hadn't been gone an hour when Sam had a series of tremors rack his body. Though a full on seizure never manifested, it did shake up his breathing and his heart rate. Now Dean was afraid to even leave the room to go to the bathroom adjoining. Even the call to Bobby with a promised update had the hunter offering to turn around. Dean persuaded him to stick with the plan There was nothing he could do for Sam but what he was doing.

This man was lucky. His family loved him very much.

"And while you're there, eat something." Dean scowled. "I'm serious. Have you looked at yourself lately?"

His brows shot up. "What's wrong with the way I look?" Women found him charming. As one girl put it, he was hot. "I look fine thank you."

Jack snorted and nodded to the bathroom door. "Take a look Adonis. You might be surprised."

"Smartass." Dean grumbled as he trudged over to the little room and hit the light. He faced the mirror and frowned.

Okay. So he was a bit drawn. Who wouldn't be considering? And maybe he did have dark rings under his eyes and they were slightly bloodshot, but it only looked bad because he was pale... Ah crap. The kid was right. He looked like death warmed over. He winced as soon as that thought came. Not a good choice of words.

He sighed as he switched the light out and gave an annoyed look to his new friend. "Fine. I'll eat. But I'm bringing it up here."

Jack nearly laughed. Of course he was. But at least he was going to eat. He let the comment pass. "Thank you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He was on his way out, but turned back. "You want anything?" He knew Jack hadn't gone home yet, his shift had just ended. It was dinner time.

He shook his head. "I'm good."

Dean snorted. "Lecture me about skipping meals..." was muttered as he crossed the threshold.

Jack did laugh now. "Okay, point taken! Get me something." He called after him. A hand waved briefly from outside the door to let him know he was heard.

Shaking his head, Jack sat back in the chair and looked at Sam. The light mood faded and his eyes became sad. "Please wake up man. If you don't get better, I don't know what it will do to your family."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Jack couldn't remember how much time had passed. He'd been lost in his thoughts one moment, the next Dean's hand was on his shoulder. He gave a start. Dean held the hand up and backed a few paces away.

"Woah. Sorry. You didn't answer me."

Jack became sheepish. He couldn't believe he was getting all worked up like this. "Uh, sorry. I was day dreaming."

Dean didn't look convinced, but said nothing. Instead he offered up a to go container. "Dinner is served."

Jack smirked and took the warm box, eyeing it with amusement. "What is it today? Mystery meat?"

Dean knew he was being teased and glared at Jack. So he'd said it once. Come on. That days special had been nasty. He was a man who loved his red meat and what they'd done was a crime. A pre-packaged, reheated slab of unappetising meat coated in a funky, slimy sauce with a side of lumpy mashed potatoes? No thanks. He'd skip the mystery meat special from now on.

"No. Today I thought I'd get something I could actually eat." He smiled and popped open his own container with flourish. "Steak hoagie with potato wedgies."

Jack opened his own with enthusiasm. "Ah. Lottie's specialty." And one of the best things on the hospital menu. Thank goodness. It was hard enough to get Dean to eat as it was. He munched on a wedge, once again drifting off.

Dean noticed his friends change and after some hesitation decided to ask the question that had been bugging him for days.

"Hey man. I ah, wanted to ask you. How come you've taken such an interest in me and Sammy?"

Seeing Jack's expression cloud he added, "Not that I mind." And he didn't. He liked the guy fine. He was funny, your average Jo. He explained the medical stuff to Dean when he didn't understand what the doctors or nurses meant. But they were just some guys from the job. Jack didn't know them from Adam.

"I mean, it's just you don't even know us. We're just the job. But I can tell there's more to it for you." He'd suspected it all along, but let it slide. He didn't get the sense Jack was dangerous and despite himself he'd come to like the guy. With Sam more or less his only priority, that was an achievement.

Jack pushed his food away and frowned. He'd been thinking for a moment maybe he'd over stepped his bounds and worn out his welcome. Dean had been more than patient. He supposed it was time he gave him an explanation. At first the interest was personal, but it had developed into a real friendship, one he'd like to keep if he could. The first step was to be honest. Maybe then his demons would stop haunting him. This time could be different.

He nervously licked his lips and sat back in his chair. "You aren't wrong."

Dean paused in his own eating and listened with full focus. He knew it.

"I, uh..." He snorted derisively and continued. "I have a personal interest in your case I guess you could say."

Dean cocked a brow. A silent bid to go on.

"I had a family once. Cousins I was as close to as you are to Sam." He smiled sadly. "We were hardly ever apart. Did damn near everything together. Like brothers." He unconsciously gripped the chair arm and his knuckles whitened. "Until the night it all went to hell and our lives changed forever."

Dean felt a pit growing in his gut. He didn't like where this was going.

Jack pushed on. Having started it was like he couldn't stop. "Derek and Tim were on their way home from a game when a drunk driver hit them. Derek was banged up, but Timmy - he got it worse. His head went into the window with such force. They stabilized him, but he had severe brain trauma. He started suffering these seizures. He'd stop breathing, or parts of his body would go numb. That was the worse part. At times he'd be awake for it. He'd woke up and we thought maybe he'd be okay." Jack's eyes were wet as he stopped.

Dean looked at him sympathetically. "But he wasn't."

"No." Jack whispered. "Not even close."

Dean could swear he heard those white knuckles crack.

"He had a Grand Mal seizure and slipped into a coma. He never woke up."

Dean's breath left him.

"We sat by his side every chance we got, Derek would never leave him without being forced. Even for bathroom breaks. He was determined to get his little brother though it. But he couldn't do anything for him and that was just as maddening as the waiting. Finally one day the machines went nuts. Tim had had another seizure. This one killed him in his sleep."

Dean's own eyes grew wet as they swung over to Sam. Jack didn't notice and went on.

"I knew it would hit Derek hard, but I had no idea how much. No one did until after. It was like part of him, the best part, had died along with Timmy. I was in pain, but it was nothing like his, you know? I lost my baby cousin, but he lost a brother. As time went on though I realized I could lose much more, I could lose them both. He was on a downward spiral. No one knew what to do or how to reach him. I tried so hard. I was still there. I wasn't Tim, could never be, but I wasn't going anywhere.

He wiped a hand down his face. "None of it mattered. It was like without his brother life didn't matter anymore. He stopped taking care of himself. Didn't eat, drink and on the rare occasions he slept he was plagued by nightmares. He'd scream for Tim."

The food was growing cold, but neither man cared. Both had lost their appetite.

"It wasn't long after that he killed himself."

Dean swallowed hard.

"He couldn't go on without him. Didn't know how. I lost them both to that accident. And every day since I ask myself if there was something more I could have done to save him."

Now it made sense. For Jack it was a bit like history was repeating itself. He and Sam were like Derek and Tim, and Jack felt like he had to step in and try to fix a mistake he thought he made. Keep him from going off the deep end. And maybe help Sam by giving him a better chance at the start.

"So that's why you became an EMT." It wasn't a question.

Jack nodded. The men sat in silence for a while, not knowing what to say until finally Jack cleared his throat and sat up. Rubbing his hands down the legs of his jeans, he stood. "It's getting late. I better go. Early shift tomorrow."

Dean nodded. Both of them were rattled from the conversation. It weighed heavy on Dean's mind as he kept looking often at Sam. Now more than ever afraid to take his eyes off him. "Thanks man. I know it couldn't have been easy telling me all that."

He smiled weakly. "I know it couldn't have been easy to hear." Oh he had no idea. "But that was then and this is now. Things don't have to be the same with Sam. He's got a good chance. He's a fighter."

So Dean was being more transparent than he thought. Jack knew how his story had affected him and was saying what he needed to hear. And it was true damnit. Sam would make it. "Damn right." Dean looked at Sam and smiled. He pushed Sam's hair back. "You're stubborn, aren't you Sammy?"

Jack smiled, a real one this time. "I can't imagine where he gets it from."

He threw a pointed look at Dean, who smirked back and told him to get his butt home and get some sleep. After giving him the same advice, Jack left.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

It wasn't long after Bobby called. Dean answered in a whisper. "Hey. Anything?"

"I got a lead. An old tome I had gave a mention of another book. There's a chance," A slim one, but Bobby didn't want to dash the kids hopes when this was the first break they'd had. "It might have a ritual we can use to either bind Sam's powers or sever the link."

Dean let out the breath he'd been holding. Thank God, a lead. Finally. "Good work Bobby, thanks. How soon do you think you'll know?"

Bobby readjusted his hat as he spoke. "I know a guy. Rare books are his speciality. If it's out there to be had, he's either got it or knows who does. I'm packing now. I'll be on the road within the hour. It's about a 14 hour drive."

Dean bit his lip as he looked over at Sam. So far his condition was holding. He prayed it continued to do so while Bobby looked for a way to fix this.

As if reading his mind Bobby broke his thoughts. "So how's Sam doing?"

Dean gave a weary sigh. "The same. No better, no worse. He's fighting, I just - wish he'd wake up you know?"

"I know kid. Don't worry. We're gonna do all we can for him."

But would it be enough? He didn't dare think about it. "Yeah. Thanks man."

Bobby felt himself choke up at the lost sound in Dean's voice. He hated he couldn't be there for them, so he offered what comfort he could. "Hey, you stay strong too okay? Take care of yourself."

"Yeah."

"I mean it."

Dean gave a wan smile, responding to the affection in the older man's voice. He knew Bobby worried for them. "I know. I will."

"I'll call soon."

Dean flipped his phone shut and got up from the chair he'd called home since Sam's admittance. He swore it was molded to his butt by now. He stretched, checked on Sam and then made his way to the bathroom. He was washing his hands when he heard it. And odd sound, he couldn't place it. Frowning, he tossed the paper towel in the trash and made his way out. There it was again, louder now. This time it hit Dean why it seemed familiar to him and his eyes widened as he rushed to Sam's side. His own shocked gaze met frightened hazel as Sam fought the tube in his throat.

"No, Sam. Sammy stop! It's okay. It's a breathing tube, it's helping you."

It was like his brother was having trouble focusing on him and he continued to panic. The monitors were beginning to react to Sam's heart rate and respiration as Dean fumbled to hit the call button while keeping a hold of Sam. He grabbed Sam's head with both hands, as well as he could since one arm was casted, and leaned down forcing Sam to focus on his face.

A nurse came in but he ignored her, he spoke strong and steady. "Sam. You need to calm down. You hear me? Stop fighting it. You'll hurt yourself."

The panic in the eyes below his faded as they seemed to slowly focus on him for the first time. Seeing the patient calm, the nurse left to get a doctor. Recognition and concern were in those eyes now and numb, chapped lips struggled and flexed around the tube as Sam tried to speak.

"Dn?" Was all he got out. Sounding more like "Mn?" but Dean understood.

"I'm fine. We're both fine." Okay, little lie. But why overwhelm the kid all at once? "You're in the hospital. You've been asleep for a few days." A frown was appearing between Sam's brows, so Dean added, "It's about time you woke up. I was getting bored. And hospital food sucks."

He nearly cracked up in joy when Sam gave him the bitch face. His little brother was okay!

A short middle eastern doctor walked in and smiled kindly at Sam. "Ah, you're awake. Good. How are we feeling, eh?"

Both boys gave him a 'duh' look and he chuckled. "I bet you'd feel better if we got that tube out huh? Your readouts seem good, you're breathing on your own. So let's try it shall we?"

Sam nodded. The doctor gently held his shoulder, then went for the tube. "Okay, on 3 I'm going to pull it out. It might hurt a little because your throat is irritated and you may want to cough. Wait till the tube is clear. Ready?" Seeing agreement in his face, he counted. "1, 2, 3."

The tube came out and Sam did cough. He sat up as Dean rubbed his back. "You alright, Sammy?"

Dean felt alarm when he saw bloody saliva in Sam's hand as he moved it from his mouth.

"That's normal." The doctor assured him as the nurse handed Sam a cup of water with a straw. "Small sips."

Sam complied, even though he was parched and wanted to down it. Ahh. The cool relief slid down his throat and he sighed.

Dean smiled. "Better?"

"Yeah." He croaked. Ouch. Talking sucked.

"The discomfort will pass. Just try not to talk much for a little while. Your doctor, Dr. Richards, is off duty now. I'm Dr. Bombay. I'll be checking you over for him and give him an assessment later when he gets in."

Dean knew he should be distracted with other things, Sam had just woke up after days of worry. Still, he couldn't let it pass without comment. "Dr. Bombay? A better one than your namesake I hope."

The doctor smiled. He'd heard the jokes before.

"Dean." Sam choked out disapprovingly.

"I was never much of a Bewitched fan myself." He said before stepping over to the younger brother's side. He took out a pen light, the glanced at Dean. "I assume you want to stay for the examination?" He'd heard about the brothers. Everyone on the floor knew he rarely left his side.

"You guessed right."

He shook his head in acceptance and shined the light in Sam's eyes. "Good." He noticed Sam flinch when the brightness hit his eye. "Headaches, pain?"

"Headache." Sam admitted.

"On a scale of 1- 10?"

The young man paused, frowning. "A 5 maybe."

Dr Bombay shook his head. "Not bad then. I'll get you something for that in a moment if you'd like."

"No, that's okay." It wasn't that bad, not compared to before, he'd tough it out.

"If that changes you just let us know. Now, any strange sensations or pain?"

"Uh, yeah actually." He barely held his twitch as he saw Dean's concern spike. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to mention it, that the sleepy sensation would fade after he woke up. He had been laying in this bed for days. But it didn't pass and now ten minutes after waking he still couldn't feel his left leg. "My leg is numb. From the thigh down."

"What?" Dean gasped. His heart was beating wildly. Oh no. Please no. Let him be okay. What's wrong?

"There?" The doctor frowned as he took out a small silver instrument and ran it down Sam's foot. "Anything?"

Sam shook his head no. "I can feel a slight tingle in my middle toes, but the foot, nothing."

Dean was feeling sick. He was trying to keep his cool, but he felt terror building.

The doctor moved on to his leg, knee, and finally thigh. Same results. He could feel nothing. He jotted notes down and stood back.

"What's wrong with him?" Dean couldn't hold back the question any longer.

"I can't say for sure just yet. I'd like to consult with Dr. Richards and see what he thinks. My guess is this is a nerve issue left over from the head trauma your brother experienced from the seizure."

Sam's eyes bulged. "Seizure?"

"Uh. Yeah." Dean cleared his throat guiltily. "I was gonna tell you about it." Later.

His brother scowled at him. Didn't take long for that lie to catch up with him did it? He hated the talk this was forcing so soon after Sam's waking. He wanted to celebrate. To enjoy having his brother back. That would have to wait as the doctor began his explanation of Sam's admittance and condition up to the present. Sam listened quietly, somber.

"This doesn't mean the loss of sensation will be permanent. As your body recovers you may regain partial or full feeling in the leg. We'll have to wait and see."

He nodded and said softly, 'Thanks doctor."

He smiled encouragingly at Sam. "Anytime. Now you rest and we'll be back in later to talk with you."

The doctor departed along with the nurse and silence enveloped the room. Dean standing awkwardly by the bed, Sam staring at the hands folded in his lap. The ticking of the clock sounded deafening next to their gentle breathing.

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Sam beat him to it. "A seizure Dean? That's your idea of fine?"

Sighing resigned, the older brother ran a hand over his face and reclaimed his chair next to his brother. "What did you want me to say dude? You'd just woke up after days in a coma freaking out. Wasn't really the time."

Sam deflated. He was taking his fear and frustration out on his brother. "I'm sorry. You're right." He leaned back on his pillows. "This sucks."

Dean snorted. "Understatement."

He remembered what it was like to sit next to a comatose brother wondering if he'd ever wake up. Understatement indeed. He looked at Dean properly for the first time and noticed the cast.

"You really need to look up the definition of "Fine"."

Dean smiled. "Yeah well. For us this is fine."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You make my point." He smiled when his brother laughed. "So truth, how bad are you?"

He nearly shrugged, but caught himself. Bad idea. "Some bruises, few stitches and a broken arm. I got off pretty good considering. Dunno what would have happened if Bobby hadn't shown up."

"Bobby?" Sam's voice cracked and Dean passed him the water again as he answered.

"Yeah. He showed up just in the nick of time. Saved our butts. Got a little roughed up, but we got the fugly."

Sam frowned. He noticed Bobby wasn't around. "Is he okay?" He hoped the older man wasn't somewhere in the hospital himself.

"He's okay." At his brother's dubious look he added, "Really."

"Where is he?"

Of course Sam would ask. If he was okay, why wasn't he here? Dean shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Ah. I need to talk to you about that. We have a theory and he's tracking down a lead."

"On the hunt?"

"Sort of." Dean told Sam about his idea on the visions and the book Bobby was in search of.

Sam was quiet again as he bit the inside of his cheek and let his thoughts collect. "That does sound plausible." Sam said in a low, raspy tone that would be his voice for the next several hours. It turned bitter as the corner of his mouth twisted. "Like we needed this. Once again I'm a distraction."

Dean frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Sam made an annoyed gesture and bit out. "This, me. We should be focusing on you. The deal. Instead we're wasting time because of me."

"Hey." Dean felt his face growing warm and he tried to control his anger. "You are not and have never been a waste of time. You never will be. This is important. We can worry about me later."

The finality of Dean's voice only increased his brother's anxiety. "And you aren't important? Is that it?"

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to. The clock is ticking Dean. We're running out of time."

Dean felt frustration seeing Sam so upset, it added to his own unease. But he had to get through to Sam. "Sammy, this has to come first. These visions are killing you." His voice trembled. "You could die." You nearly did. "I didn't make the deal just to slack off and lose you now."

His brother clenched his jaw. "Please."

Dean looked so vulnerable and sad. He hated that look on his normally carefree brother's face. "Okay Dean. We do this first." As much as he hated it they really had no choice. He was no good to his brother plagued by the symptoms of the visions. He looked at his useless leg. He may be no good to him period.

Dean nodded, satisfied. They would work this all out and it would be okay. He was the big brother, it was his job to take care of Sam. His little brother just needed some time. His optimism dimmed however as he saw how long Sam's eyes lingered on his bum leg. The look on his face remained after he turned his head. Dean felt lead in his belly. Damnit. Why was this happening? He knew internally Sam was beating himself up.

"Sam - " He started.

"I'm tired, Dean." Sam interrupted softly. Not in the mood for another pep talk.

Dean was quiet for a second before dropping it. "Okay." Without being asked he helped Sam lay down again and adjusted the bed. "I'll be right here if you need me."

"You should sleep in a real bed." Sam prompted, knowing it wouldn't happen but needing to say it anyway.

"Nah. I'm good right here."

"It's got to be killing your back Dean."

In truth some days he walked like a hunched over old man for a few hours after waking, but Sam didn't need to know that. "Trying to get rid of me Sammy? The night nurse is kinda cute. But I think they frown on that kind of thing in hospitals."

As expected his brother groaned and rolled his eyes before closing them. "Goodnight Dean."

Dean grinned. "Night Sam."

He hoped they'd both rest well and wake to a better day in the morning. But that was too much to ask for right?

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

At around 3am Dean awoke to the sounds of distress. For a brief, terrifying second he thought Sam was having a seizure or something. "No. Dean. Don't go!"

"Sam." He said as he sat up and placed a hand on Sam's arm. "You okay?" He then realized Sam's eyes were closed. But he was thrashing.

"Oh God, no time." A sob now, tears were pouring down his brother's face. "Don't take him from me!"

Dean immediately knew it was a nightmare and what it was about. Feeling his own eyes sting and his throat trying to close up on him, he shook Sam gently. "Sammy, man, you're dreaming. Wake up."

His brother jerked into awareness, eyes snapping open, the remaining tears falling. Dean felt chilled by the raw desperation and loss he saw there before Sam seemed to come back to himself.

He cleared his throat, grimacing as he forgot how sore it was and wiped his hand roughly over his face. Both men were quiet. Sam looked gravely at Dean, but said nothing. Then he simply laid back down and rolled away from him as best he could.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean felt a stab of hurt. It wasn't long before Sam's breathing evened out again. Dean sat back in the chair, dejectedly watching his little brother sleep. Sam hadn't even talked to him. Didn't allow him to say any words of comfort. He scorned himself inwardly. Like he'd been offering a lot in the way of comfort when it came to the deal. He'd either blow it off, change the subject or act like Sam should suck it up. No wonder he didn't want to share his fears and pain. How often had Dean rebuffed him when he'd tried?

He didn't mean it like that. He didn't want to hurt Sam or make him feel like he didn't care. He did. He didn't want to die. He was scared out of his mind. Most important he didn't want to leave his brother. He was trying to stay strong for them both, but Sam couldn't see that. He thought it was all crappy self-esteem and bravado on Dean's part. In reality he was afraid to let go. Because once he did he may just fall apart. He was barely holding it together. If they couldn't find a way out...

His eyes took in the large frame in front of him. Sam would be alone, well not all alone, he'd have Bobby. But would he be alright? He'd always believed so. That Sam was stronger than him and would survive without him. Maybe move on and have a real life someday. But now he was starting to think it a foolish wish on his part. Sam was not alright and it got worse every day. Like parts of him were slipping.

He couldn't help but think back to Jack's story. Sam was his life, his Tim. But the reverse was also true. Would he spiral without him there to watch out for him? He didn't want to find out. Sleep eluded him as he watched his brother sleep. Eventually soft rays of light flittered through the window and he reached a decision. As much as he hated to, Sam needed this and Sam's needs always outweighed his own. If he needed to talk, they would. Maybe it would ease the load they both carried.