A/N: Thanks to everyone that has read, favorited, alerted and reviewed this story so far. I really appreciate the feedback and seeing as how your reviews are the only payment I get for writing, you all make me feel rich. I hope you enjoy this next chapter and please keep the comments coming! :D

Part II

Sam woke with a start, sweat causing the sheets around his legs to cling to his bare skin and tangle him up. He glanced about him and realized grimly that he was still in the same peach-colored room he had been in before, was in the same bed and in the same strange body, disappointed that it all hadn't been some kind of fevered dream.

However, the nightmare he had just woken from, the one that had him in its grip only moments before, was still fresh in his mind.

He could still hear the echoing screams of his brother as Sam was held back by the white-eyed demon, unable to stop the hellhounds that tore into his flesh and ripped him apart in front of his eyes. He could still see Dean's lifeless stare, feel the warm blood seeping through his finger and remember the utter devastation and sense of failure that washed over him. He hadn't saved Dean as he had promised- he had let him down. He was dead and it was his fault...

Sam realized after a few moments of disorientation, that the nightmare wasn't a dream at all- it was a memory and as he strained to remember it all, he also recalled the surprise of seeing Dean again months after that, brought back from Hell...saved by an angel.

Castiel...

Castiel had dragged Dean from Hell and brought him back and that had been nearly two years ago- or at least two years not counting the ten he had spent oblivious to the rest of the world.

That meant that Dean could still be alive. He had no evidence to suggest that he wasn't- he could still be out there somewhere. Perhaps he was just laying low or hiding out for some reason. There was no reason for him to over-react like he had when his nurse told him he had been in a coma all these years- he had to believe he could find him.

He searched his mind, struggling to recall what his last memory was before waking up, but he couldn't pinpoint it exactly-everything was muddy and unclear, like trying to remember the details of a dream before they faded away into oblivion.

"Hey...look who's awake." He was driven away from his muddled thoughts by a voice from his door and he turned, recognizing the same nurse that had explained a little of his current predicament before the world had been turned upside down for him. He still could not wrap his mind around the idea that he had spent the last ten years lying in a hospital bed- it was all too unbelievable.

"How are you feeling this morning?" She asked, obviously trying hard to sound cheerful. He didn't really answer, only shrugged a little as he watched her cross the floor towards him, carrying a plastic IV bag filled with an unidentifiable yellowish-white liquid. She walked around the bed and hung the bag up on the IV pole next to the clear bag.

"What is that?" Sam tested his voice, it croaked and cracked, but he was satisfied that it was coming back enough now for him to be heard and understood without having to resort to writing it all down.

The nurse gave him a bright, if not somewhat forced smile. "Good to hear your voice is coming back. It might take a while for those vocal cords to get used to being used again, but it should get easier for you to talk soon. Anyway, I thought you might need some breakfast before Dr. Morse comes back to see you off."

"That's breakfast?"

"Yeah...I know- it can't beat bacon and eggs, but with your feeding tube still in, you'll have to keep taking this formula until the doctor decides to have it removed. Until then, you won't be able to take in anything by mouth."

Feeding tube? He raised his eyebrows. He hadn't even realised he had one and Sam grimaced a little at that thought. But when she mentioned bacon and eggs, he could feel his stomach rumble in hunger and his mouth water. However, as soon as she raised his bed then pulled down his blanket and opened up the front flap of the hospital gown he was wearing, all thoughts of food went out the window.

This new, weaker version of his body was still a shock to see. With protruding ribs, hipbones and muscles emaciated and atrophied from years of disuse, he didn't think he could ever get used to the idea that this was actually his own body, but the tattoo etched into his chest that he and Dean both sported was proof positive that this was indeed his.

The worst part of what he was seeing though was seeing the plastic tube sticking out from his abdomen and watching as the nurse connected that tube to the one leading from the bag.

She was quick and professional as she set about the task, but even still, Sam felt his cheeks color in shame at having his body exposed like this and from the humiliation of being so helpless that he couldn't even feed himself. All the while the nurse kept speaking to him, trying to fill in some of the awkwardness with some unnecessary, one-sided conversation.

"I wasn't sure if you would remember me from last night, but my name is Pepper. I know...it's kind of a silly name, but my given name is actually Patricia and when I was little my Dad always called me 'Peppermint Patty'. By the time I was ten, it had been shortened to 'Pepper' and I guess it just kinda stuck. Pretty soon that's what everyone called me... I never really like the name Patricia anyway, so I decided to just go with it.." She finished inserting the tube and Sam watched with nauseating fascination as the liquid began to flow from the bag and directly into his gut.

"There- That should just about do it. " After said asshe closed up his gown once again and pulled the blanket back up. She gave him a sympathetic and knowing squeeze on his shoulder. "Don't worry. The tube won't stay in forever and pretty soon you'll be eating normally again. Just give it some time, Sam. No one who's been in a coma as long as you can just wake up one day and head out the door the next. It's gonna take time... but you'll get there. You'll get your strength back."

Even with all of her assurances, Sam had a hard time convincing himself that he could ever get this frail frame to fill out into the same body he was used to, but he knew that he was going to have to push himself harder than ever before to get in shape again and be of any use to his brother once he found him. He wasn't prepared yet to even entertain the thought he wasn't out there somewhere and thinking of Dean, Sam turned toward the nurse again.

"Pepper?"

"Yes?"

"Has anyone tried to contact my family yet?"

She was silent for a heartbeat as if hesitant to give him any more bad news, especially after his reaction to informing him that he had been in a coma for ten years the previous night, but to her credit she answered plainly and truthfully, without any unwanted platitudes. "I'm sorry, Sam. But, there isn't any next of kin listed in your records. We didn't even know your real name until you woke up- you've been a 'John Doe' all of these years."

Sam knitted his brows in confusion. "What?...How?...How did I end up here then? Who brought me in?"

"I don't know all of the details, but your medical record says that you were admitted to County General after you were found unconscious in one of the city parks and after it looked like you wouldn't be waking up anytime soon, you were transferred to our facility here at Shady Oaks. You've been a pretty big mystery since then and no one was ever able to locate any of your family. Rumor has it that the police scoured missing persons reports, sent out fliers and even ran your DNA and fingerprints, but came up with absolutely nothing- it was like you never existed." She shook her head. "It's pretty weird."

Sam wasn't too surprised that they hadn't found anything out about him. His whole life, from the time he was a baby onwards had been spent living under the radar and ever since he and Dean started hunting together again, he had gone to great lengths to cover tracks and leave nothing behind, even going so far as to hack into Stanford and the county registrar's office in Lawrence to delete all of his and Dean's records after their run-in with the FBI and Agent Hendrickson.

Yet still, he was left with more questions than ever now. How did he end up in Chicago in the first place and had Dean been with him? What caused him to fall into a ten-year coma? And most importantly of all: where was Dean?

"Didn't anyone ever come and visit me all this time?"

She shook her head sympathetically. "Sorry. I've been working here for over a decade and I never heard of or saw anyone come in and out of your room except for us nurses and occasionally, the doctors."

"Really? No one?"

"Perhaps your friends and family have been looking for you all this time, but couldn't track you down?" She suggested then added, "If you give me their names and addresses maybe I can try to look them up." She offered.

Sam shook his head, his mind a swirling mixture of confusion and conflicting thoughts as he tried to sort things out.

"That's okay...I'll try to reach them myself." He answered distractedly. He doubted she would be able to track Dean down since he had no permanent address, didn't pay taxes and changed phone numbers almost as often as he changed his socks. But, maybe she was right about one thing...what if Dean had been trying to find him all this time and just hadn't been able to find him either. That also meant that there was a good possiblity that he thought Sam was dead and had given up searching for him.

But.. if that was true, wouldn't Cas have been able to find him?

No...that's right...the angelic sygils. Cas had carved them into he and Dean's ribs and those would have shielded the angel from finding him.

He was back to sqaure one again and Sam came to the realization that it would be up to him to reach out to his brother and let him know he was still alive.

Sam decided that his search for answers would have to start with him and what he could remember, but his mind was like a solid block of Swiss cheese: full of holes. If only he could remember clearly what his last memory was before waking up...

"Well," Pepper started apologetically, interrupting his quiet, but fretful musings. "My shift is almost over and Dr. Morse will be here soon. He wants to transfer you to County General, so I don't know if I'll be seeing you again, but it was nice meeting you, Sam. Sorry I wasn't able to help you out more, but I hope you'll be able to get a hold of your family."

As soon as she left, Sam used what was left of his flagging energy to reach over and grab the phone. He knew it was a long shot, but he had to start his search for Dean somewhere.

Over the course of the next half-hour he must have dialed every single phone number of Dean's that he could think of-even some of Dad's old numbers- but all of them turned out to be either disconnected or wrong numbers. After exhausting all of the ways could remember to contact Dean, he tried each of Bobby's numbers as well, but those too were no longer in service.

When it became clear that he wasn't going to be able to reach either Dean or Bobby by phone, he resorted to trying to contact Castiel as well, closing his eyes and praying quietly out loud for him to come and give him some answers. "Castiel...if you can hear me...please...I could really use your help right now."

Nothing happened, even when he tried again, practically begging the angel to respond.

Alone and running out of options, Sam let his frustration dissolve into weariness. Too tired to think and sort things out any longer, his weak body demanded rest and he was powerless to overrule it any further. Allowing his eyes to sink closed, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

OOOOOOOO

As promised by Pepper, Dr. Morse arrived a couple of hours after she left, waking Sam as he barked orders to the staff. Soon after that, he found himself the center of activity as he was loaded up and shuffled onto a waiting ambulance.

Here and there he caught little snatches of what life was like now outside of the walls of his nursing home room. People wore outrageously hideous clothing now- women tended to go for boisterous, neon colors with loose fitting, shapeless shirts and many of the younger men followed a trend of sporting pencil-thin mustaches and long, bushy mutton chops. Seeing how things had changed left Sam feeling as though he was trapped in a time warp, stuck in the past while the rest of the world moved past him at the speed of light.

Once at the hospital, Dr. Morse went to work on Sam almost immediately, sending him out for MRIs, CT scans, X-rays, blood-work, EEGs and a whole host of other tests he's be hard pressed to identify, leaving him exhausted and irritable by the end of the day.

Adding to his discomfort at being in the hospital and unable to do much more than lie there helplessly much less get up and leave, the paunchy Dr. Morse who was charged with his care, despite his apparent thouroughness, would never go into Sam's book as one of the most personable people he had ever met. He eyed Sam more like a scientist fascinated by a lab rat spinning in its wheel than he did as a patient, which left Sam with an uneasy feeling whenever the doctor came anywhere near him.

The only thing that made that first night's stay bearable in the county hospital under the hawk-like presence of Dr. Morse was Pepper. He had been dragged through so many medical tests by the time he was wheeled back to his room that he could barely keep his eyes open and as soon as he had been helped back to his bed, he fell fast asleep. However, when he woke up though, a friendly face greeted him.

"Hi, Sam. Remember me?" She asked.

"Pepper?" He asked, wondering what she was doing there.

She grinned. "Good to see that I made enough of an impression on you to remember my name." She chuckled somewhat nervously then cleared her throat in an attempt to shoo away some of the awkwardness.

"I don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?" He asked. She didn't really know him from Adam, why would she want to see him again?

"Well...I dropped by because...well...this gonna sound kinda weird, but I haven't been able to get you off my mind, ya know? I couldn't sleep thinking about how you didn't have anyone around to help you adjust to all of this and I wanted to help. I mean...that's kinda been my job since you came to the nursing home...taking care of you..." She cleared her throat, her face blushing. "Anyway...I have this old tablet that I don't use anymore and I thought you might get some use out of it...ya know...to help you catch up on some of things you've been missing out on all these years."

She walked over to his bed and handed him the thin gadget and at first he mistook it for just a light, paper-thin square of transparent plastic that fit neatly in the palm of his hand. There didn't seem to be any 'on' button that he could find, but when Pepper reached over and waved a hand over the screen, it came to life, a screen forming in the center.

"Sorry... I forgot it was calibrated to my fingerprints. Here...I'll fix it so you can work it." She took the device back from him and started tapping away at the screen. When she was finished a moment later, she handed it back to him. "There...just touch the screen and it should recognize you now."

Sam did as he was instructed and the device immediately started to work for him as well and even after just a few minutes of fiddling with it, he was amazed at the speed and efficiency of it-it was far better than any computer he had ever used before.

"Thanks...this thing is incredible" He looked up at her gratefully. "You didn't have to do this."

"It's no problem, like I said, the thing is old and I'm sorry it's so slow."

"Slow?" He shook his head. "I'd love to see what you consider 'fast'."

"Well...I know you must be tired, so I'll get going..." She turned and started to walk towards the door.

"Pepper, wait." He called out to her before her hand could reach for the door knob. A sudden idea came to him, but he would need her help. "Do you think you could do something for me?"

"Sure, Sam. Anything."

OOOOOOOO

"When I said I would do anything, I didn't think it would be anything like this." Pepper complained as she came back into the room, but she had a sly, little smile growing on her face. "But then again, no one ever accused me of being a stickler for stupid rules and who can say 'no' to that lost-little-puppy-dog face of yours."

"Were you able to get it?" He asked.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out another tablet device, this one with the words 'Property of Cook County General Hospital' labeled on it's casing. "It wasn't easy, but good thing my friend Gail works here as a shift nurse and was able to get it." She grinned as she walked back over to him and took a seat next to his bed and handed it over to him. "All of your records from the last ten years and every test and diagnostic that's been done on you since you woke up."

He gave he his most appreciative grin. "Thanks for sticking your neck out like this. You could have said 'no' and I wouldn't have blamed you."

She shook her head. "It was nothing. Besides, if I had been in your shoes and woke up to find ten years of my life missing, I'd want answers too."

"Will I be able to work this thing?" He asked before he attempted to touch it, remembering how the other tablet only worked when it recognized it's owner's fingerprints.

"Yeah...don't worry. Gail set it to 'open' mode, so it should work for anybody."

He nodded and started working at the gadget right away, eager to find out more about what had been done to him the last ten years. He started at the beginning, going back to his admittance to the hospital in April of 2011. However, after just a few minutes of flipping through the digital pages, he was disappointed by how little was actually in there. All of his tests from his first admission to the hospital revealed no trauma, no head injury and no toxicology results that could give the doctors any clue as to why he was in an unresponsive state. Even his EEG back then had shown that he wasn't brain dead, but merely in a coma.

There was one thing however that struck him as odd. None of his chest x-rays had ever come out as abnormal as he would have expected thanks to Cas's angel shielding when Lucifer and Michael had been breathing down their necks. Perhaps it was just a glitch or something that had been overlooked...he couldn't say, but it did puzzle him.

He flipped ahead, skipping through years of entries that covered his day to day care in the nursing home until he came to the last few pages and the reports recently put into his records over the last few days. His brain scans were all normal, X-rays normal, blood-work normal and just about everything else Dr. Morse had put him through revealed little more than the fact that his muscles had atrophied over the years. He was an unequivocal medical mystery- even to himself, he thought bitterly.

"Well, that wasn't very helpful." He muttered, shutting off the device and handing it back to Pepper.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"It's not your fault, but hey...at least I think Dr. Morse is out of tests to run on me and should have an interesting paper he can publish about his 'mystery case'."

Pepper snort derisively.

"I take it you like him about as much as I do." He noted.

She agreed with a nod of her head. "That's putting it mildly."

"Why? He may be an asshole, but at least he's thorough."

"He may be that, Sam, but..." She paused as if considering whether or not she should continue.

"But what?" He prodded.

"Dr. Morse took over your case only a few weeks ago after your first doctor, Dr. Richardson retired. He made it pretty clear that he believed that the state was wasting its money with your continual treatment when it appeared as if you would never wake up again- he was always saying how it was 'cruel to let you linger on'..."

"He said that?"

"Yeah... and I hate to repeat gossip, but there was a rumor going around that he was going to ask the court to be declared your legal guardian so he could have your feeding tube removed."

Sam fought back a chill. "He wanted to let me starve to death? He can't do that."

"Laws have changed in the past ten years, Sam." She pointed out, but that did little to ease the butterflies in his stomach. "I don't know though, maybe that's what woke you up..." She shrugged. "What if somewhere deep in that brain of yours, you heard or picked up on what he wanted to do to you and that triggered something inside and brought you around... I'm just guessing here, but I don't have any other explanation for your sudden recovery and I've never been a firm believer in miracles."

Sam's creepy feelings about the doctor overseeing his care were more than confirmed now and his need to escape the hospital and find his brother grew by leaps and bounds.

Pepper didn't stay much longer after that and as soon as she was gone, he powered up the little tablet she had left him and started in on his search for Dean.

The computer tablet Pepper had given him was a technological wonder, but after a few hours of digging through records, even it was failing to give him the results he was hoping for. Unsurprisingly, there was next to nothing he could find on Dean and the last bit of hope he had in finding him through public databases fled when he found that the title for the Impala had been sold nearly four years ago and only listed the new owner, not any previous ones .

Things got even worse when Sam decided to go a different route and started a search out on Bobby. Simply typing in the name of Bobby's salvage yard yielded a result that took his breath away and twisted his stomach into knots.

There on the screen was an obituary in the local Sioux Falls newspaper from 2014 that left a gaping fissure within his chest as he read the headline:

Robert 'Bobby' Singer (December 15, 1950- August 20, 2014) Local salvage yard and auto repair shop owner passed away Friday night due to a sudden heart attack...

Sam couldn't bring himself to read the rest or to do much more than stare out of his window until the sun set and he had nothing but darkness to look at, quietly remembering the man that had been as much of a father to him as his real dad had been. He tried to wrap his head around it all, but couldn't. Bobby had always seemed indestructible to him- it was hard to believe that he was gone and his heart felt as though it might tear into a million pieces.

Sam didn't even bother with trying to search the computer tablet for any more leads on Dean's whereabouts that day- too afraid he might find something even worse than learning about Bobby's death and he didn't think he could handle it if he did.

Once again confusion, malaise and despondency gripped Sam tight and wouldn't let go. All seemed hopeless- He didn't know where else to look for Dean while still confined to his bed and too weak to do much more than sit up. And now, with Bobby gone and Castiel a continual no-show, he had no one else to turn to.

To Be Continued...