Chapter Two
Disclaimer: Still don't own
The Impala pulled into the parking lot of the motel and Dean and John got out. John went to the trunk of the car and Dean went and unlocked the motel room door and walked inside.
"Sammy! We're back!" Dean called, looking around the room. When he didn't see his brother on either of the beds or in the kitchen he went and sat on the couch.
'Must've gone for a walk.' Dean thought to himself, which really was quite ridiculous considering it was nearly 2am.
He looked down at the coffee table and saw the folded up note with his name on it. He picked it up and read it quickly before throwing it back onto the table and running into the bathroom. He nearly gagged at what he saw. Sam was as white as death and lying slumped against the wall next to the shower, the knife next to his right hand and blood still steadily creating a pool on the floor at his left wrist.
"Sammy!" Dean took two steps towards his brother before dropping to his knees next to him and slapping him lightly on the cheek a few times. "Sammy, god, wake up. Please wake up."
A finger on Sam's right hand twitched. Dean grabbed a clean tea towel from the kitchen and wet it before wrapping it around Sam's arm and picking him up.
"Dad, we need to get Sam to the hospital." Dean said as he walked quickly out of the room and John lifted his head up from out of the trunk.
"He's just sleepin' Dean, go put him back in bed," John said, going back to what he was doing.
"He's not sleeping dad. There's a note on the coffee table and…go look at the bathroom."
The panic in Dean's voice was enough to make John close the trunk of the car and run into the motel room.
Dean managed to open the back door of the car enough to put his foot it the gap and pull it the rest of the way open with his foot. He lay Sam down on the back seat before closing the door and getting into the front passenger seat.
John ran out of the motel room then, barely stopping to lock the door behind him, and he go into the car silently and sped out of the parking lot and to the only hospital in town.
They pulled into the parking lot of the hospital nearly 10 minutes later and Dean was out of the car and pulling Sam out of the backseat before John had even opened his own door.
"Dean ran into the emergency room ahead of his dad.
"Someone help me! Please!" he yelled.
A gurney was wheeled quickly over to him and Dean put Sam down on the bed. The nurse started to wheel the gurney away and Dean went to follow it but was stopped by the doctor.
"You can't go back there son." He said.
"He's my brother." Dean said as John ran in.
"Where's my son?" John asked the doctor.
"He's been taken into a room down the hall for treatment." The doctor said.
Dean pushed past both his father and the doctor and ran down the corridor, glancing in the rooms he ran passed. He got to the room at the very end and saw Sam still unconscious, lying in the bed while a nurse stitched up the biggest cut on Sam's arm.
"You can't be back here; you need to wait in the waiting room." A voice said and steered Dean back down the corridor and into a room full of sad and stressed looking people.
John wasn't there but Dean didn't question it. He just slumped down into one of the chairs and stared at the floor.
The door to the waiting room opened but Dean didn't look up until he saw the shadow of someone standing in front of him. He was angry and shaking Sam's letter in Dean's face.
"Did you know about this? About this…insanity?" John tried not to yell.
"Yes." Dean whispered, looking back at the ground.
"Why didn't you tell me?" When Dean didn't say anything he asked, "When did you find out?"
"When he was 6." Dead still refused to look at his father.
"10 years? Why didn't you say anything Dean?" John was angry. "We could've stopped this, but now your brother is dying, and all because you couldn't speak up."
"You think I don't know that? You think I don't know this is all my fault!" Dean yelled, getting to his feet.
"This is your mistake Dean, you fix it. I'm leaving the Impala here and I'm going." John shoved the letter into Dean's chest and started walking away.
"So you're just gonna walk away from Sam? While he's dying?" Dean yelled at his back.
John stopped in the doorway. "This isn't my problem to fix Dean; it's yours. Don't even try to call me or find until it's fixed, and that means Sam alive. If he doesn't make it though this…don't bother."
John walked out the door and Dean crumpled into his seat and shoved the letter in the pocket of his jeans. He tilted his head back and refused to le himself cry. He had to be strong for him brother, especially now.
Dean stayed in the waiting room for hours, drinking cup after cup of coffee to stay awake.
"You've been here a long time, you should go home and try to get some sleep." A voice said next to Dean and he looked over to see a woman, who looked just like his mother, holding a sleeping baby.
"My brother will wake up soon. I just have to wait for him to wake up." Dean said, looking away again and finishing his coffee.
Before the woman could reply, the waiting room door opened again and Dean looked up to see Sam's doctor walking up to him and he stood up, throwing his empty Styrofoam cup into the bin next to his chair.
"At least tell me he's alive." Dean said before the doctor could say anything.
"He's alive. Barely." The doctor said and Dean let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "But before you go in and see him we need to ask you a few questions."
Dean answered all the usual questions (name, date of birth, medical conditions) but then came the 2 questions Dean really didn't want to answer;
"Where you the one that found him?"
As Dean nodded his head the image of Sam lying in a pool of blood on the bathroom floor flooded his head and he had to close his eyes to stop from crying.
Then came the last question. The one he was dreading;
"What exactly happened to him?"