Thanks for the continued following guys!

Just so ya'll know, everything wincesty that happens will be around the pg stage. Just so i don't have to keep sayin it. Cause there is another tiny spot in here.

I always appreciate my readers, whether they review or not. So thanks for stickin with me. Hope you enjoy the new chapter. :)

Ch. 9

A nurse comes to get him when Sam is settled back into his room. They're keeping him there in ICU in case any problems arise from the surgery. John is reluctant to leave Dean. In the end, he resigns to the fact that he'll have to split his time with his two sons for a while. It isn't too far, around a few corners and down the hall, but it's far enough.

Walking into the room, he lets out a sigh when he sees Sam. Considering, the kid looks good. Not too awfully pale, and clean now. No mud and dirt caked to him like when they were found. Now that he can see Sam clean, he understands what the doctor saw. Dean does look worse for the wear. A few bruises on his face. Some random cuts. Sam… he's almost spotless.

Sighing not in disappointment but in worry, he pulls a chair next to Sam's bed. "You did your fair share of protecting too, didn't you? I saw that display you put on. I guess confusion was understandable at the time. You were so exhausted and dehydrated, it seems no one is surprised you had trouble comprehending a rescue. But you were ready to protect him. Even when you knew he was dying. You did good too, Sam." He falls back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face before running it up and through his hair. "But you're both idiots."

He laughs quietly to himself for a minute, letting a few tears escape now that his sons are safe and sound. He can't be mad at them for protecting each other, but he knows they were both probably stupid when it came to doing so. But that's his fault, isn't it? Or is it just their nature? Maybe he'll never know. Whatever the reason, he's glad they had each other.

Sam wakes up first, opening his eyes to an empty room. As the fog starts to clear from his mind, his eyes snap over to the empty side of his room. Where, "Dean," should be. He swallows dryly, barely able to even hear his own voice. Where's, "Dean?" He tries to push himself up, letting out a cry and falling back against the pillow. "Dean!" should be in here with him. Where is he, damnit!

"Sam!" A nurse comes in, running over to the side of the bed. "You need to keep still. We had to-"

"Where's Dean?" he gasps frantically.

The nurse frowns.

His heart lurches.

"I don't know. He isn't-"

"What do you mean, you don't know?" He tries to push himself up again.

"Sam. You need to lay still."

"I want to know about my brother," he growls, trying to push himself up yet again before gasping. "Damnit! I want to see my brother!"

Another nurse had gone to get John by now, having heard the commotion. She leads him in before going over with the other nurse to give Sam more pain medication.

John rolls his eyes at Sam's most recent string of curse words when he finds he hurts too much to get up and go see Dean. Not usually one to be the most creative with his expletives, hearing Sam curse is always amusing. "Sam. Easy. Lay back." John pushes him back, bringing the sheets back up.

"Dad." He latches onto his father's arm. "Hey."

John chuckles. "Hi." He ruffles Sam's hair. "Now relax. Dean is fine."

Sam lets out a sigh, but doesn't relax. He turns his puppy eyes on to his dad. "I want to see him. Why isn't he in here?"

"You had to get surgery. This is ICU. Dean is in another hallway under different care."

"I want to see him."

"Sam, you can hardly move without hurting. Just wait, okay? He isn't even awake right now." He sits in the chair next to the bed.

Sam frowns at that last part. "Why not?"

"Infection was pretty bad for a while. Fever finally broke early this morning while you were in surgery."

Sam bites his lip. "But he's okay, right?"

"He's going to be. I promise."

Sam finally lets his head fall back with a sigh. "When can I see him?"

John sighs too. "We'll see how you feel tomorrow."

"This sucks."

A deep chuckle. "I know."

Sam looks to him with a small smile. "You look tired."

John shrugs. "Haven't been back to the motel in a few days."

"You should. Get some sleep and stuff. We're safe now. And not dying."

John chuckles. "You sure?"

Sam nods. "Yeah. I'll make them call you if anything happens."

John rolls his eyes. "Yeah. You'll make them."

Sam huffs. "Go away."

John laughs as he stands, hand reaching out to ruffle Sam's hair again. When Sam's head jerks away, he laughs again. "You be good. You hear me?"

Sam rolls his eyes, voice rising as the talks in annoyance. "Yes, Dad. I'm gonna cause trouble while I'm confined to this bed!"

John shakes his head, waving him off as he leaves the room. He has a wide smile on his face. At least Sam is still his same snarky self. He checks on Dean one more time before he leaves, patting his arm and leaving with a soft, "You be good too."

At night, things quiet down. Less nurses are walking around. The last check-ups are made. It's then that Sam snaps awake, as if feeling the change. He takes a few steadying breaths, feeling his chest finally loosen. Not soon after John left, the pneumonia that had been clinging to him had been fighting hard. It's going back down now though. Good. He'll need his breath for this.

Earlier, the lights were too bright. Way too bright. He kept his eyes closed most of the time, even when he wasn't knocked out from the pain killers. After being underground for… however long they were, light is a sensitivity that's new. But the dark… that's unwelcome too. At least alone. So that's what motivates Sam to slowly start untangling himself from the confines of his bed.

He wants to see Dean. Now. Not tomorrow. He wants to be with his brother if he's going to be in the dark all night. He doesn't want to be alone with the memories. With the leftover fear of never being found. Awake or not, Dean will make it better. And the only way to see Dean is to get out of this bed and find him. He's glad for the painkillers he knows they gave him, easing the pain a whole lot.

He grumbles both about the little pain he still has and the stupid hospital gown as he slowly slides his legs over the side of the bed after throwing the blanket off. Breathing through the discomfort in his chest, he finds where the IV leads to, reaching up to lift the bag off of the hook. He'll hang it in Dean's room. Doesn't really want to make the nurses mad by pulling it out just yet. Besides, if he starts hurting, they'll be able to give him more pain meds without poking him or making him take pills.

He winces as he ties the gown shut, but gets that done easily enough. Then he starts walking gingerly out of the room. After checking that the hall is clear, he leaves ICU and wonders where they would have put Dean. Then he sees the computers. He bites his lip, making his way over to sit slowly down into the chair. He doesn't really know how they have things set up on this, but it can't be that hard, right?

Glancing around guiltily, he starts going through the already open windows. He grins triumphantly when one is the patient records. Searching for Dean is hard because he doesn't know what name his dad had given them. Eventually though, he finds a Dean Johnson. Looking at the medicines on his list, he frowns. They're giving him ampicillin-sulbactam. That must have been one hell of an infection. But he knows that's Dean.

Finding the room isn't too hard. He's happy that it's at least close to his. By the time he gets to it, he has to lean against it to catch his breath before opening it. In the dark, he can barely see his brother sunk down into his pillows and blankets resting around his waist. He's still propped up a little. He lets out a sigh of relief before smiling when his eyes open. "Hey."

Dean clears his throat. "Hey. You should be in your own bed." His voice is hoarse, but still has that big brother firmness to it saying he doesn't approve.

"It's too dark," Sam murmurs, walking over and slowly reaching up to hang his own IV on one of the other hooks next to Dean's. He lets out a sigh of relief when he lowers his arm without too much pain and turns to Dean. He smiles softly. "You okay to move over?"

Dean chuckles, gingerly scooting himself over to make room. "At least I'm not the only one who will have a grudge against the dark for a while."

Sam grins. He makes sure Dean's pillows are still supporting him before turning and slowly scooting himself up onto the bed backwards. He lets out a breath when he gets up there, making sure to turn his body with his legs as he lifts them onto the bed. He groans when he's finally all into the bed.

"You okay?" Dean asks softly, reaching out to rest a hand on his back.

Sam turns onto his side, curling up next to Dean and resting is arm over Dean's waist to rest his hand over Dean's bandages with perfect precision. "I'm fine. I'm more worried about you. They said you were out for a long time with a fever. When did you wake up?"

"Honestly? About fifteen minutes ago. I was debating whether or not finding out if you were okay was a good reason to use the emergency button."

Sam snorts. "I have awesome timing."

Dean chuckles, reaching up to card his fingers through Sam's hair when his brother rests his head down on his shoulder. "How about you? What's the diagnosis?"

Sam sighs. "Two broken ribs. One cracked. Pneumonia that didn't make it more than a day. Nothing too bad."

Dean growls deep in his throat. "Two broken ribs? And you were moving around like that down there? Damnit Sam…"

"Hey. I did what I had to do." He turns his head up to look at his brother. "I was doing all I could to make sure you made it out with me. Don't you get mad at me. You would have done the same thing."

Dean sighs, his eyes falling closed. "Still. Two broken ribs? I just… and all I had was a cut. I guess I didn't do too good at protecting you."

"Dean. All you did was protect me. That wendigo attacked you. And you kept me calm all those times I was panicking. You were great. Okay? And you have worse. I know you do. You just keep it from me."

Dean snorts. "Whatever." He turns his head to kiss Sam's forehead.

Sam lets loose a blinding smile, glad his brother hasn't reverted back to his old self now that they're out of the tunnels. His smile fades though as he works up to asking for more. "Dean…"

Dean sighs. "Sam."

"Don't. Just… not today. Okay? We'll talk about it later. But… can we please just leave it as it is for now? I just love you so much and after all of that…"

Dean silences him with a kiss, other hand tilting his head up to angle it perfectly. It's the best kiss so far. When Dean pulls back, he looks seriously into Sam's wide eyes. "We will talk about this. Not now. But we will. We'll come to a decision together. It may not make us happy. It may all be okay. But we'll make a decision and keep it. Okay?"

Sam sighs. "Okay." He scoots closer, laying his head down on his brother's shoulder again. He turns his head to tuck his nose into the soft skin and breathe deeply. "I love you."

Dean continues to card his fingers through Sam's hair. "I love you too, little brother. Always." He kisses Sam's head, rolling his eyes at himself. There's not way he's going to be able to tell both Sam and himself "no" when they sit down to talk about this. He's in too deep. "Even if you are a little bitch," he mutters without too much heat.

"Jerk," Sam breathes half-consciously.

Dean chuckles, laying his head against Sam's.

It's three o'clock in the morning. The floor is empty. The few nurses that stay the night are mostly in the break room seeing as the patients are asleep. If they're needed, the alarms will sound. One nurse though, Tami, goes in to check on the youngest Winchester. The boy was having trouble breathing earlier. The pneumonia in full force until the antibiotics help. The struggle had pulled on her heart, the puppy eyes still working through their droop as he demanded updates on his brother.

She opens the door quietly, wanting to just look in and listen to his breathing. See if he's sleeping comfortably. She gasps when the bed is empty. She turns and starts to run for help, but stops only a few feet away. Thinks. Shakes her head as she sighs. Then she turns to go down the hall towards Recovery.

The older brother wasn't under her care, but in keeping the younger updated, she knows what room he's in. She wonders to herself if the younger had to look in every room until he found his brother. Is in awe of how much it probably took of his already weak energy to get there. She isn't surprised when she cracks open the door to see him in there. What does get her attention is how they're laying.

Her eyes move over the two forms laying in the bed, tears almost springing to her eyes at the sight. The younger brother is tucked up against the older, head under his chin laying on his chest. An arm is thrown over his brother's waist, resting on his side where the blanket has been moved down to show the bandages. It looks like he's protecting his brothers wound, hand resting right over it. His eyes are closed and he's breathing perfectly.

The older brother has his head laying on the younger's, his left hand resting on his brother's arm that's over his waist. The arm with the IV is curled around the younger's shoulders and holding him to his side. The hand is up on top of his shoulder, fingers playing with his brother's hair.

His eyes are open, sparkling black in the dark as they look at Tami. A mix of dangerous and protective. He raises the hand resting on his brother's arm to rest a finger against his lips. Quiet, it says. It's both a warning and a dare. Don't wake up Sam, and, I dare you to separate us. She sees them both loud and clear.

She gives him a small smile, backing out of the room and letting the door click quietly shut. She has no doubt that if she had woken the younger up, she would have faced a very angry older brother. As she walks away, she has no doubt that it was having each other that saved their lives in whatever situation they had been in. She hopes them the best.