A/N: So this is the last chapter plus the epilogue, so I have to tell you all how amazing you are for reviewing, adding this to your alerts and sticking with me. Seriously, thank you.

P.S. Supernatural is back! Can I get a hell yeah?! Hell yeah.

Brothers, Always

Dean

Dean gasps as the air is forcefully sucked out of his lungs. It feels like there's an invisible energy pushing on his chest, compacting and crushing it relentlessly, killing him slowly. Just as his rib cage starts to burn and pull from the lack of oxygen, his whole being slams backwards, making him physically start. When he opens his eyes, chest heaving, the first thing he sees is Bobby standing over him with wide, panicked eyes. Then he notices that Bobby's mouth is moving but Dean isn't hearing any sound. He frowns and tries to shake the cotton from his head. Slowly but surely sounds start to come back. First, a constant, high pitched, frantic beeping comes into focus, and then Bobby shouting his name, then the sounds of a small crowd. For a moment he can't figure out what he's missing or what's going on, it's like there's nothing but a blank white wall in his head. But as the wailing of the machines grows louder and more distinct, it hits him like a gunshot. Sam had gone over the edge and pulled Dean with him.

"Sammy!" Dean shouts as he struggles to sit up but finds that he can't, because hands are holding him down, "Sonuvabitch, get off me! Sam!"

OhGodOhGodOhGod Sam went over the edge. There's no way he made it back alive. He said that jumping meant death. He'd gone over, he's dead, Christ, Sam's dead. What now? What is he supposed to do now?

"Damn it, Dean, hold still!" Bobby demands as he struggles to contain Dean's thrashing, "He's ok! Sam's ok, he's alive. But your nose is bleeding like a damn faucet and you hit that hard head of yours, just calm down."

The words barely penetrate through Dean's frantic thoughts of Sam lying motionless, bloodless, in a hospital bed with no breath and no pulse. But somehow it gets through and Dean pauses and tries to take it in.

"Sammy's alive?" Dean gasps and then chokes because sure enough, there's blood running down the back of his throat from his bleeding nose.

"Yeah, son, he's alive," Bobby replies softly as he helps Dean roll onto his side so he can control his nose bleed, "He's awake too, woke up about the same time you took a header to the floor, and did your impression of a dying fish. Damn near gave me a heart attack."

From the ground Dean tries to look around all the nurses that are crowding his brother's bed to get a glimpse of Sam. Things have seemed to calm down a bit and he can hear bits and pieces of their conversation, things like "miracle" and "thank God his brother wouldn't let us pull the plug."

Damn straight.

"Awake?" Dean repeats breathlessly as he holds his nose and stares at the bubble of people around Sam's bed.

"Yeah. Don't know what kind of condition he's in or anything, the machines started going off and the next thing you know this whole place is crawling with nurses," Bobby says as he keeps a steadying hand on Dean's back.

Dean nods and then blinks as feet appear in front of him. He follows the feet up to legs and eventually up to a white lab coat. It's Sam's main doctor, the jackass that Dean punched some odd days ago.

"Are you alright?" The doctor asks with a frown as he crouches down to get a better look at Dean, who looks like a homicide victim with all the blood coming out of his nose and running over his lips.

"I'm fine," Dean states with conviction and a glare, "how's my brother?"

The Doctor sighs, "Well, it's a miracle, that's for sure. I'm not sure how to explain it but he seems to be just fine. We'll need to run some tests to make sure that his brain didn't suffer any effects from the coma, and that his wounds healed correctly. He's also in need of some serious nutrition but I'd say that he's well on his way to a complete recovery."

Dean huffs out a wet, relieved laugh and then slowly moves to stand up. Bobby mutters "stubborn idjit" under his breath as he grabs Dean under his arm and helps haul him upright.

Dean has to blink spots from his eyes as soon as he's standing but he's proud of the fact that he doesn't topple right back over. Apparently, coming back from…where ever the hell Sam had them is one rough trip. What Dean doesn't get is the fact that they both took the plunge, so by all logic, they should both be dead and doing the hellfire rumba. How the hell did they both come back alive? For now, Dean decides not to question it as he falls back into 'his' chair and latches his hand onto Sam's arm, which for once, is warm. The last remaining nurse fills up some water and lets Dean know that Sam can have some if he wants and then leaves.

"I'm gonna go get you something for your nose," Bobby mutters before he disappears out of the room too, allowing Sam and Dean to have a moment.

"Sam?" Dean questions hesitantly, his gaze searching desperately over Sam's relaxed face and closed eyes.

Sam's eyelids flutter briefly before opening into slits, before they slide closed again.

"Come on, bro, don't cop out on me now," Dean murmurs and tightens his grip on Sam's arm reassuringly.

Sam's eyes open one more time and he flinches against the light, and blinks. After Sam works through the pain of the overhead fluorescents, he lands his gaze on Dean and his eyes widen to comical proportions.

"Nose," Sam husks as he gapes at Dean's face, panic clearly evident in his expression.

"Nose?" Dean asks and scrunches his face before he remembers that it looks like someone bashed in his face with a baseball bat, "Oh yeah, that. Gnarly, huh? Don't worry, it's nothing. Just hit the floor wrong or something. Bobby's bringing something back to take care of it."

Sam frowns at that, clearly confused, but he presses on, "What happened?"

"Well, first you tried to hustle a few wannabe Jackie Chan's, which is about the smartest thing you've ever done," Dean says sarcastically with a bitter smile, which immediately falls as he continues, "Then, uh…there was a fight and one of them stuck you in the back with a pocket knife."

Dean's throat closes up with a combination of lingering fear, panic and anger as the scene in the alley replays itself in his head, "You've been in the hospital ever since."

"How long?" Sam rasps after the pieces fall into place for him

Dean's lips purse as he tries to control his emotions, "A little over three weeks."

Sam's eyes do another anime impression while Dean frowns, and wonders if Sam remembers anything from when he was in the coma, like wanting to jump off a free floating floor in space.

Sam must be reading his mind because he asks "Floor?" and then coughs, making Dean immediately jump up to get him some water.

He comes back and puts the straw within reach of Sam, "Don't know, man. But one thing's for sure, when we get out of here? We are having one serious talk."

Sam glances up and comes face to face with Dean's "I'm your big brother and you're not getting out of this one" look. Sam directs his gaze back down, caught somewhere between disappointment and shame.

"Hey," Dean says softly but sternly as he sinks back down in the chair, "I don't know how much you remember of it but I meant everything I said. We have a lot of shit to work through but we'll do it. What you were about to do…"

"Dean…"

Dean continues firmly as if Sam never tried to interrupt, "It's not an option, not ever, I don't care how bad things get. And if you ever think of doing something like it again? I'll kick your ass."

Sam stares at him for a moment longer before smiling, a real, wide smile that Dean hasn't seen in a long time, "You're such a girl now days."

"Shut up," Dean says with his own smile as he flicks Sam's ear.

Sam flinches slightly but laughs, "Seriously, dude, I think you're really starting to love chick flick moments."

"Sam, I swear to God I will let some old wrinkly dude give you a sponge bath if you don't knock it off."

Sam laughs again and for the first time in almost four weeks, Dean feels the knot in his chest release.

Three days later.

"You ready to blow this joint?"

Sam's sitting on his bed, fully dressed and still pale but looking like a human again. Bobby left the day before with hugs and a demand that they take it easy and "let him know how they're doing when they're not playing ding-dong-ditch with death, idjits."

"Hell yeah," Sam says and smiles.

"Good. I'm going to get the paper work filled out so we can get out of here," Dean replies as he glares at the room.

Sam stares at his brother for a second and takes in the remaining dark smudges of his eyes and his thinner frame. From what he's gathered from the nurses, Bobby, and Dean himself, his brother didn't bother to take care of himself while Sam was out for the count. It simultaneously makes Sam feel all warm and fuzzy while irritating him to no end. Dean is notorious for ignoring his own needs and pain but sometimes, Sam wishes he would just stuff his pride and think of himself.

"Dude, are you listening?"

"What?" Sam asks and then blinks, realizing that Dean is now right in front of him instead of darkening the doorway.

Dean frowns, worry shinning through his eyes, "You ok? We can stay, you know, if you're not good to go yet."

Sam barks out a laugh, "Trust me, four weeks lying on my back is plenty of time. I'm fine."

Dean looks unsure but nods and turns to go out the door, "be back in ten."

Sam watches him leave with a slight frown. He'd never tell Dean but he feels weird, like he's only partly there or like he's watching everything from the outside. He doesn't know if he's just still a little off from being in a coma for almost four weeks or if he came crashing back from that alternate plane wrong. The fact that Dean's acting so…pre-hell Dean is only feeding his theory that something is seriously off. Like maybe when he fell off the floor he just fell into a different plane.

"You really do over think things, don't you?"

Sam jumps off the bed and turns around, wincing at the fast motion. Ethan is standing on the other side of the bed, with the same old amused smile on his face.

"Don't pull anything, man, you just got back," Ethan says and leans against the wall behind him, crossing his arms.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asks, a small pit of nervousness forming in his stomach.

Ethan shrugs, "I thought you'd have questions, figured I'd help you out. I am still your Guardian, you know."

"So what, you're going to be sitting on my shoulder from here on out?" Sam demands as he briefly wonders if he's ok with that idea or not.

"Hardly," Ethan grins, "This is probably the last time we'll cross paths. That is, unless you end up between life and death again, in which case, we'll be right back where we started."

Sam doesn't respond to that and Ethan continues, "So, you're probably wondering what you're doing back on earth instead of doing time in hell, right?"

Sam nods slowly, "Yeah, kinda."

"That's an easy one. I went against regulations," Ethan states definitively with a small grin that has traces of pride in it.

Sam blinks, "Regulations?"

Ethan lets out a short half laugh, "Yeah, dude, regulations. Everyone has rules, you know?"

"And you broke them?"

Ethan nods, "totally."

"I don't understand, why? How?" Sam asks as he frowns.

"What can I say? I like you, kid. It wasn't your time to go yet," Ethan says nonchalantly even though his eyes are really meeting Sam's anymore.

"Wasn't my time to go?" Sam repeats slowly, "So what, you saved me?"

"Yeah, yanked you out, plucked you right out of the air by your shirt collar…so to speak."

"What was all that crap you spouted off about things being so bad up here and that I'd be better off not coming back?" Sam demands, anger creeping into his voice

"The truth," Ethan replies immediately and firmly, "Things are shit here and everything you're doing is wrong, and you know it. But that's not what it's about."

"Then what is it about?"

Ethan shakes his head, "I didn't really get it before. I mean, I saw the negative because that's what I'm trained to see. Death is a business, you know? And souls are in high demand."

"I thought you said you couldn't make choices for people?"

"I can't, but I can influence and I can make them see the truths that they refuse to see. So everything I told you? Completely true…except one thing, the thing I didn't get before," Ethan says as he pushes himself off the wall and makes his way around the hospital bed, "I was wrong about your brother."

Sam tilts his head, defensiveness unintentionally brewing as Ethan talks about Dean.

"Everything on the surface told me that Dean was going to be fine without you, that he could've let you go with a little more than a second thought," Ethan says and pauses to watch Sam swallow with hurt, "But Dean's a tricky bastard and he totally made me."

Yeah, Sam won't deny that and he gives a small smile in agreement.

"Everything on the surface told me that he had let go but really? The only thing keeping him going was you being alive," Ethan states as he points at Sam's chest in emphasis.

"Me?" Sam repeats dumbly.

Ethan rolls his eyes, "No, the other brother that he's spent his life protecting. Yes, you, you moron! Were you listening at all while he was down there begging you to snap the hell out of it?"

"Of course I was, but…"

"Listen to me, Sam," The seriousness of Ethan's voice and stare make Sam stop cold, "Everything that's going on in that head of yours? About Lilith and Ruby and all that other shit? You need to erase it, forget about it, and fix things with your brother, permanently. You and Dean have to stick together, do you hear me? You have to stay. together. no matter what it takes, ok?"

Sam stares as he tries to figure out if Ethan's words are advice…or if they're a warning. The silent confirmation in the Guardian's eyes and his almost undetectable nod is the only answer he needs.

"Hey, Sammy, ready to hit the road?"

Dean's voice sounds through the room and Sam jumps in surprise. Ethan's gone, vanished, as if he was never there to begin with. Sam stands there and stares at the spot where the Guardian was standing while his brain tries to catch up and put the pieces together.

"Sam?" Dean asks, this time with evident concern and suspicion.

Sam forces himself to react and he turns to his brother, smile on his face, "Yeah, let's get out of here."

Dean looks unsure but starts to lead the way out of the room, letting Sam go in front of him. Dean takes one more glance around the room, determined to bury the memories that the cream colored walls hold before shutting the door.

The room is immediately cloaked in silence and Ethan stares at the shut door from his position by the window and sighs. Seconds later, a presence stands next to him.

"You broke our deal, Ethan."

Ethan rolls his eyes, a combination of irritation and fear crawling over his skin, "Get over it. I made a choice. I'm not on your leash, you know? You're not my boss."

"No, but I hear he's not happy either," the man says with an evident smirk in his voice, "In fact, I hear someone's dropping down a bit on the Reaper ladder."

"You angels are real dicks, anyone ever tell you that?" Ethan snaps as he puts more space between him and the other man, "Look, we had a deal, I broke it, there's not shit you can do. Just because you spend most of your miserable existence playing a sissy harp on a cloud and toying with other people's lives, doesn't mean you get to mess with mine. Rules, remember?"

Ethan stops to smile victoriously at the man's furious expression, "I let Sam Winchester go because he didn't deserve what was coming to him and neither did his brother. And quite honestly, this whole 'burn the world' crap you've got going on doesn't sit well with me. But most of all? I just really don't like you."

"Mark my words, boy, one day I will find a way to snuff out that dark little light that's keeping you going and none of your Reaper rules will protect you."

Ethan smiles wider, "Well until that time, Uriel, you can just suck it."

Uriel lunges for the Guardian but Ethan's gone, leaving behind echoes of his amused laughter.

A/N: Epilogue next. Was that a good, at least somewhat plausible explanation? I hope so. Let me know what you think !