DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, I do not own Sam or Dean. They belong to Eric Kripke (lucky!) And I am just playing with the boys for my own twisted entertainment.

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CHAPTER TWO: WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!

The doctors couldn't believe it, nor could they explain it. Sam was fine. A full recovery. It was a miracle! Dean knew Sam was going to come around, but even as he told himself that, there was a bad feeling in the back of his mind. Like a little voice saying that Sam was never waking up and Dean had let his little brother down. Again. But now, Sam was awake and everything was okay.

"Do you need anything else, Sammy?' Dean asked, continuing to look him over for any sign that he wasn't okay as he said he was. "You want some water? You look like you could use some water." He opened his mouth to yell for the nurse, but Sam stopped him.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam assured him, raising his brows in confusion. "Why are you acting like this?" He knew why. Dean was afraid that he wasn't okay. But he was. Honestly. And he needed to figure out a way to let Dean know. However, there were too many questions spinning around in his head for him to actually come up with a good plan. "Dean, what happened to me?" he finally asked, his gaze lowering to stare at a spec of dirt on the otherwise clean floor.

Dean sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "How much do you remember?"He frowned as he watched Sam stare at the floor. As he always did when he realized Sam was off in his own little world, he wondered what Sam was thinking. Was he remembering something that might indicate what lead to his recent hospital visit? "Sam?"

Sam's eyes snapped up to meet Dean's. "Uh, the last thing I remember? We were at the bar, looking for the succubus, and when we found her, she knocked you out and had me pinned to the wall, choking me. And then I remember blinding pain shooting through my body." He looked up Dean again, his eyes having traveled down to the bed sheets during his story. "And then I woke up here."

Dean knit his brows in confusion. Sam hadn't mentioned remembering going back to the hotel. "You don't remember going back to the motel? Don't-Don't remember telling me to check you over later because you were tired?" Sam shook his head, which made Dean's frown larger. Sam had lost time. Was that normal?

"Dean, how long have I been out?" Sam asked, frowning, his eyebrows knit with determination. He needed to know how much time he had spent holed up in a hospital sleeping. There was no time for him to rest to like this. Not when Dean's life had an expiration date on it. And expiration date, which by the way, was coming way too fast.

"Three weeks," Dean answered softly. "Bobby's been here a few times. Oh, and Ellen and Jo found out, too. They came by once." Dean stood. "I should-I should call them and let them know you're all right." He turned, ready to walk out when Sam's large hand gripped his wrist, causing him to turn around again and look down at Sam. He looked...scared. "Sam, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to stay here, Dean," Sam explained. "Can you just...wait to call them and sign me out? I want to go back to the motel. I want to get out of this hospital gown and pull my jeans back on. I want...I want my computer back." Sam's eyes didn't leave Dean's as he used them to beg his brother to get him out of there. He had things that needed to be done.

Dean sighed, nodding his head. "Okay, Sammy, I'll get you out of here." He went to move, but Sam still had a hold of him. "Uh, Sam, you have to let go of my arm if you want me to sign you out. I have to go talk to the nurses."

Sam quickly released Dean's arm. "Yeah, right, sorry," he muttered, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. "I forgot I was holding you in place." He smiled up at Dean, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he watched Dean go. Once he was out of here, he could get to his computer and catch up on some long overdue research. There was still time to save Dean, and Sam wasn't going to give up. Never going to give up, even after Dean was gone. He'd go down to Hell himself and drag his brother out if he had to. Even as he thought about saving his brother, he tried to ignore the slight pain that shot through his chest once he couldn't see Dean anymore.

Bobby stared at Sam, a wide grin on his face. Finally, he closed the gap between himself and the younger hunter, hugging him tightly. "Oh, Sam, we thought you were a goner there for a minute," Bobby admitted. Pulling away, he gently slapped Sam's arm. "What were you thinking? Scaring us like that, you idjit?!" he half joked, half demanded. "Dean was worried sick. I couldn't even get him away from your bedside to eat a cheeseburger!"

Dean frowned. "That's not entirely true, Bobby," he argued. "Don't listen to him, Sammy, I ate." Dean walked over to the bed. "Sleeping, however, was a completely different story. I didn't get nearly enough, so be quiet over there." Slowly, Dean crawled into the bed, pulling the blankets up to his neck as he closed his eyes, prepared for some much needed rest. Honestly, if Bobby hadn't been there, he probably wouldn't have gone to sleep. After all, the last time he got a good night's sleep, he woke up to find a comatose Sam. But if Bobby was sticking around, Dean felt that it was safe to take his eyes off his little brother.

Quietly, Sam opened his laptop and began researching ways to relieve Dean of his contract. There was a small chance that he was going to find anything, since he had been researching for six months, now and he had found zip. But there was no way he was giving up. Never. He tensed as he felt Bobby looking over his shoulder.

"What are you looking at, boy?" Bobby asked, reading the page Sam was looking at. He knit his brows in confusion as he read the text; however, when he realized what it was, his expression became sad and almost sympathetic. "Sam..."

"I'm not going to just sit back and do nothing, Bobby," Sam explained, frowning. "There has to be a way to save Dean, and I'm going to find it. And if I can't--" He sighed. "Well, that's not an issue because I'm going to find it. I have to." He lowered his head, his eyes filling with tears as they shifted over to his brother's sleeping form. "I can't live without him, Bobby." Again, he looked up at Bobby, his expression hard. "I won't live without him."

Bobby frowned, nodding. "I know you won't, Sam," he said, taking a seat at the table beside the younger Winchester. "But you have to accept the fact that in a few months, Dean might be gone. And I know that's hard. It's hard for me and he's not my blood. I don't spend every second with him like you. So, I can only imagine what you're going through. But...you just have to accept it."

Slowly, Sam shook his head. "No." He was done with this conversation. Turning his attention back to his laptop, pulling up a new page since the one he was looking at was giving him nothing. His glance shifted from the computer screen to Bobby as he noticed the older man was grabbing a book that Sam had planned on looking at later. "What are you doing?"

"I'm helping you with research, you idjit," Bobby replied, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the question.

Sam smiled. "Thanks, Bobby," he answered, turning his gaze back to the screen. After a few more minutes of silence as they searched, still finding nothing, Sam sighed. "So, what did the doctors say? Why-Why was I in a coma?"

Sighing, Bobby closed the book he was looking at. "Dean told me the doctors said you had internal bleeding. In your brain. That succubus must have hit you pretty hard for that to happen. But you weren't strong enough for them to operate to stop the bleeding, so they had to wait." He looked at the table. "They said you weren't going to wake up, and that Dean should have just let you go. But he wouldn't. Honestly, when I got there, Dean was about to clock the guy. I stopped him, though."

Sam frowned. "How did I wake up, then? And why am I not bleeding anymore? There's not even any evidence that I was bleeding? How is that possible?"

Shaking his head, Bobby sighed. "It's a miracle! We have no idea, but we're definitely not complaining."

Sam gave him a small smile as he turned back to his computer screen. He had a bad feeling bout the way he just miraculously woke up, so he pulled up the obituaries, thinking that maybe Dean did something to help him like Sam had done for Dean a couple years ago with that faith healer, Roy. When he read the names of people who had died in the last few weeks, his eyes widened in shock, and he felt a deep sense of dread. The sound of Bobby's voice mixed with his confusion, which was quickly turning to anger.

Dean jerked awake as he felt cold water splash over him, dampening his face and shirt. "What the hell?!" he asked as he blinked away his sleepiness, looking for the source of the water. That's when he saw Sam standing over him, holding a glass in his hands that was glittered with water droplets. "Sam, what are you doing?!"

Sam's expression was hard, and Dean could swear that he saw a look of hurt buried in those warm, hazel eyes. That was until anger flashed in them and Dean was being ripped from the bed by Sam and slammed into the wall. "Why didn't you tell me?!" Sam yelled, shaking Dean slightly.

Dean pushed Sam's hands away from him, frowning. "What are you talking about?" Man, what had Bobby and Sam been talking about while he was sleeping? And why the hell was Sam throwing him against walls again. Weren't they over that little phase? Because he thought they were. But, apparently not seeing as how Sam had just done it. Boy, Dean was going to get him back for this new and unwanted pain in his back.

Sam held up the paper that he had printed, raising his eyebrows at Dean. "Why didn't you tell me William Martin killed himself?!" He was verging on tears as he spoke, both for the sympathy he felt for William's mother, and the betrayal he felt that Dean hadn't told him. "And look, Dean, he killed himself exactly two weeks after he was infected by the succubus!" He shook his head. "But that can't be possible because we killed the succubus, so he should have been fine. Once the succubus dies, so does her curse! And she's dead, Dean. right?!" When Dean didn't answer, Sam shook his head. "Right, Dean?!"

Now, Dean understood why Sam was so bent out of shape. Looking away from his brother, he shook his head. "No, Sammy," he whispered. "She's not dead." He looked up at Sam, seeing that he had cooled off and was backing away from him, shaking his head. "Sam..."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked, afraid of what the answer might be. Did Dean and Bobby think he was infected? Were they seeing if Sam was going to go crazy and feel an overwhelming need to be next to the person closest to him? But that was impossible. It would have happened the night he was attacked, and that was three weeks ago. He would have been dead by now. At least that was the pattern.

"Because you just woke up, Sam!" Dean all but yelled. He hated the fact that Sam was retreating from him like he was some kind of monster they were supposed to hunt. Damn succubus problem. Damn Bobby for telling them about this hunt. And damn Bobby for saying it was going to be an easy gig. "I didn't want you to worry about this after--" Slowly, he shook his head. "I just got you back. I didn't want to risk you having a relapse, or whatever." Kneeling in front of Sam who was now sitting on the bed, he lightly punched his arm. "Hey, are we okay?"

Looking into Dean's eyes, Sam could tell Dean was sorry. Anyone who knew Dean could tell that. Especially if they looked into his deep jade pools like Sam was doing right now. A small smile pulled to Sam's face as he shook his head. "Yeah, we're okay. I-I get why you didn't tell me." He touched Dean's shoulder and said in a serious tone, "And you're not going to lose me. Okay? Neither of us are losing each other. No matter what."

Instantly, Dean knew what Sam was talking about. And that broke his heart even more than lying to Sam about shit. There was no way out of his deal without hurting Sam and he knew that. But he would never tell Sam. He couldn't break his brother's hope like that. Well, not until after he was gone because then he didn't have to deal with it. So, he went along with Sam's little shred of hope. "Okay, Sammy."

Bobby, who had been standing off to the side as the boys argued, stepped in now. "Well, I guess we have a succubus to find and kill, now, huh?" When Sam and Dean gave him their 'No, really?' looks, he frowned. "So, what do we know so far?"

"Well," Dean started, pulling back to his full height, "we know that I injured the bitch last time we ran into her. And now she's hiding. No one has been attacked since William, which is a good thing. Bad news, she's good at hiding, and there's no way to find her unless she strikes." He sighed. "And she won't go back to the bar we found her at last time, unfortunately, which means she probably moved on to a new town. The bars in this one are kind of dull."

Sam and Bobby nodded, knowing Dean was right. Finally, Sam pulled to his feet, going back to his laptop and searching for any signs of the succubus while Bobby read through books and Dean went out to get food. Dean never really was any good with research, so he always managed to make himself scarce when the time for it came.