Chapter 9

Sam tried to concentrate on his research, but the image of Dean's blank face kept intruding on his thoughts. Dean had refused to speak to him since threatening him yesterday morning. Sam thought he could jar his brother out of this foul mood with some jokes or a nice take out dinner. Dean did not even acknowledge the jokes and refused to eat. That was when he knew he was really in deep this time. Dean would not eat. Dean ate anything, anywhere, and as much of it as he could stomach. Sometimes Sam wondered where his brother could put it all.

He flipped the pages of his book, trying to look like he was working, but his mind was on Dean. What had he done that was so horrible? Dean made some comment about boys sniffing around and Sam had responded in kind, offering to find something for Dean to go kill, to work out his frustrations. Okay, maybe he should not have used that sarcastic voice when he said it, but the sentiment was real. Dean had to know that.

His cell phone went off. Sam checked caller id, hoping it was his brother but knowing it wasn't. Unknown. With a heavy sigh, he answered. "Hello?"

"Is this Uncle Sam?" The woman's voice on the other end demanded.

Sam winced as he recognized that voice. "Miss Grimmault?" he had been expecting this call, but to be honest, he had hoped Dean would be the one taking it.

"I am having some problems with Sammie," she informed him, "and I was hoping you could help me find a satisfactory resolution."

Sam chewed his bottom lip. This really was Dean's territory, but education had been falling to him, so what the heck? It wasn't like Dean was talking to him anyway. "I take it this is about Romeo and Juliet?" He had tried covering that play with Rae last year, but she really did not get it. Dean's constant comments about men in tights did not help.

"That's where it started," her voice came through loud and clear, "she had a few of her facts wrong, which led to some erroneous conclusions on her part. I tried to correct those facts and assumptions during class."

Sam shut his eyes. He had a pretty good idea where this was headed. "Now she refuses to participate in class, right?"

The exasperated sigh said it all. "I thought we were making progress, but now she won't even look at me."

Sam rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "You embarrassed her."

"Excuse me, but I did not!" Miss Grimmault snapped. "I simply corrected some of her mistakes."

Sam nodded at the library ceiling. "Rae has never been in a classroom before, Miss Grimmault. She's still figuring out how it all works. I take it when you corrected her mistakes, you mentioned her by name?"

There was an audible huff. "I simply said if Sammie could make these mistakes, so could anyone else in class. I did not single her out. I told the class that it was obvious they all needed a review."

Sam's head dropped forward. Shit, it was worse than he thought. "Miss Grimmault? I know you mean well, but if that's how you phrased it to the class, then Rae not only thinks you singled her out, but that the whole review was her fault. I have no doubt that she assumes if she refuses to say anything else in your class, then she can not be responsible for the class being punished."

"Reviews are not punishment!" Miss Grimmault snapped. "I had the review planned anyway because there is a test over the play on Wednesday."

"Then you should have said that," Sam replied, doing his level best not to sound angry or annoyed, even though he was both. "I'm trying to explain Rae's reaction, and you're arguing with me. Why did you call?"

The silence from the other end lasted so long, Sam nearly hung up. "Because I wanted to know why she seemed to completely shut down. And you told me." He heard a deep breath. "I'll try to be more sensitive in my wording next time. Can you and her father talk to her at home? Sammie has an interesting perspective and I would like to hear more from her in class."

"I'll try, but I can't make any promises," Sam told her. It might suck, but it was the truth. "Really, this is between you two. If you feel you need to talk to her about it after school, I'll back you up on that."

"Thank you for that. I'll keep it in mind. Let's see if the situation resolves itself in the next couple of weeks first."

"Okay. Please keep us informed," Sam said, hoping this conversation was over.

"It would be easier if her father answered his phone," she replied, the accusation clear, before the call disconnected.

Sam stared at the phone in his hand for a moment. Oh yeah, that woman was going to call child services next. Great. And what was that about Dean not answering his phone? Sam hit redial on his phone, wondering if Dean would bother to pick up this time. He checked his watch. Dean's lunch hour should be nearly over by now. No answer. Dean usually answered his phone during lunch, but Dean was usually speaking to him, too. He tried again.

"Hello?"

Sam did not recognize the voice. "Who is this? Where's Dean?" What, Dean passed off his phone so he wouldn't have to talk to his own brother? God, his brother was a jerk!

"This is Sam, right? Dean's brother?" the voice asked.

"Yes," Sam replied through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, uh, well…your brother had some kind of attack at lunch. Not real sure what happened, but the paramedics said it sounded like a heart attack."

Sam's anger flushed from his system, leaving him temporarily cold, void of emotion. "Paramedics? There's an ambulance there?" His voice sounded like it belonged to someone else, someone calm and rational.

"There was. They just took him to the hospital."

Sam nodded at the air. "Right. Of course." He pressed the button to end the call. After staring at his phone for all of half a second, the words 'heart attack' flashed back. Sam left the library at a dead run.

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Sam paced in the emergency waiting room. He hated this place. Of all places on Earth, emergency room waiting areas were the worst. No, sitting beside his brother after a terminal diagnosis, that was the worst, hands down. He felt the eyes of admissions nurse following him. She already spoke to him twice about upsetting other people in the waiting room. He really did not care. An annoying beep came from his pocket.

Sam pulled out his cell. The alarm to remind him to leave in time to pick up Rae went off again. Damn. He scrolled through his phone list, searching for someone he could call.

"Hello?"

"Karen? It's Sam. I need a huge favor," his eyes dropped to the watch on his wrist.

"Uh, Sam. I kind of think you're the last person to be asking for favors."

He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I know, but there's no one else I can call. Look, there's something wrong with Dean. I'm at the hospital. Can you pick up Rae at school?"

"Uh, well…What happened? You're at the hospital?"

"Yeah. They won't tell me anything yet." His pacing picked up. "Can you? Please? I'll really owe you big."

"Okay, okay. Calm down. I'll leave work right now and pick them both them up. Do you want me to come up to the hospital?"

"No!" He stopped, tried to regroup quickly. "No. Uh, Rae doesn't take things happening to Dean very well. Just tell her I had to work late. When I know what's going on, if it's anything to really be worried about, I'll tell her."

"Okay, fine. No problem. I'll take the girls to my house. Just let me know what you want me to do."

Sam heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Karen. You're a godsend. Oh, if Rae asks for the password, it's Ghostbusters."

"Password. Ghostbusters. Right, got it. I'm gone."

Sam slipped the phone back in his pocket, resuming his pacing.

"Mister Cooper?"

Sam spun around. Funny how easily he learned to answer to so many different names. He tried not to run to the doctor standing just outside the ER doors. "Yes?"

"Your brother is Dean?" The man was middle aged and built like a stuffed teddy bear, minus the fur.

Sam nodded. "Yes. Is he all right? Was it a heart attack?" He felt the pressure in his own chest. The words Dean and heart attack should never be spoken in the same sentence. Been there, done that, freed the reaper.

"Come here," the doctor led him through the doors. They stopped just outside a white curtain. He pulled it aside briefly, allowing Sam to see Dean for a moment. He looked asleep. The doctor thrust the sheet back in place. "It wasn't a heart attack," he said, his voice low.

Sam felt the air enter his lungs easier now. "So, what was it? Uh, gastritis? I've heard that can feel like a heart attack. And with the way Dean eats…"

The doctor shook his head. "Actually, it was a full blown panic attack. Has your brother been suffering from these long?"

Sam blinked. He blinked again. "Excuse me?"

"Your brother just suffered through a two hour episode. I've pumped him full of enough drugs he won't care about anything for the rest of the night. When he wakes up you can take him home, but don't leave him alone." The doctor wrote something on the chart he carried.

"Wait." Sam held up both hands. "Just wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me that Dean, my brother, had a panic attack?" He tried to look at the chart the doctor was holding. "You sure you didn't mix him up with another patient?"

The doctor eyed him. "So you're saying he didn't tell you about the other times?"

"Other times." Sam still was not processing this conversation. He was certain this man had Dean mixed up with someone else. "What other times?"

"Dean said those were not this severe. Something must have really set it off this time, but he refused to discuss it with me. I was hoping he already talked to you about this." The doctor's eyes were not unkind. It sounded like he was sincere.

"Not yet," Sam growled, "but he will." He pushed past the man into Dean's area.

Sam pulled up a chair to wait for his brother to wake. Dean's short hair was wet with sweat and his face flush. At least he didn't look like he did after his electrocution, that put part of Sam's mind at ease. But Dean having panic attacks? Dean and panic, those words were mutually exclusive in his mind. What in the world could possibly cause Dean, his big brother, killer of things supernatural, to panic?

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, mainly to hear the sound of his own voice, not feel alone. "Dean, you planning to wake up anytime soon?"

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Dean mumbled, "can't even let a guy take a nap."

Sam smiled in spite of himself. "Doctor says you can leave after you wake up."

Dean's eyes fluttered open. "Leave?" He looked around, clearly disoriented. "Yeah, I'm awake. Let's go." He moved to sit up. "Whoa!" A wide grin spread across his face. "Dude, is it me or is this a really nice ER room?"

A nurse appeared at that moment with Dean's release papers. "Mister Cooper?"

Dean's grin turned brilliant. "Hello."

"After you sign these, the doctor said you can leave. But he did recommend making a follow-up visit in a few days. If not with him, then with your GP. All right?" She handed over the forms and a pen.

"All right?" Dean repeated, his eyes roving over her. "I'd have to say, awesome."

Sam rubbed a hand over his face. He smiled apologetically at the nurse. "I think he's feeling better."

She laughed lightly, showing Dean where to sign. "You are driving him home?"

"Oh, yeah," Sam said with a nod. "Oh, that reminds me. I need to make a call. Can I use my cell back here?"

"No, you'll have to wait until you're outside for that."

"Who you need to call, Sammy?" Dean turned eyes bleary with heavy medication on him, a stupid grin across that otherwise blank face.

"Karen."

Dean's stupid grin broadened. "Yeah? You kiss and make up?" His eyebrows waggled.

"No, Dean. She picked up Rae from school. I need to call her to let her know she can bring Rae home." Sam hoped this would penetrate his brother's medicated haze.

"Rae?" His grin beamed now. "Love that kid. She's great, isn't she?"

The nurse giggled, taking the signed paperwork from Dean. "Yours?" she asked.

Dean dug his wallet out, which took some doing in his present state. "Here, look." He pulled out several pictures. "Isn't she just darlin'?"

Sam watched, a little stunned, as Dean showed off his pictures. He had never seen this happen before. The nurse crooned appreciatively over them before leaving, shooting Sam a sympathetic look as she passed. "A wheelchair isn't necessary from the ER, but if you'd like one?"

"No, no. I got it." Dean stood on shaky legs. "No problem." He tried shoving his wallet back in his pocket, but he could not seem to locate the pocket. "Sammy? Where'd my pocket go? Somebody take it?"

Sam sighed, standing. He took the wallet from his brother and stuck it in Dean's back pocket. "Found it."

Dean grabbed him by the shoulders. "You're a good brother, you know that?"

Sam shook his head, taking one of Dean's arms to lead him out. "You're drugged out of your gourd, you know that?"

"Yeah. It's nice." Dean giggled, leaning into Sam's grasp. "We should do this more often."

"I don't think so," Sam snapped.

"Why not? I'm having a good time." Dean smiled up at him.

Sam scowled. "Because I've spent three hours in the waiting room wondering if you were having a heart attack." He steered his brother through the automatic glass doors outside.

"Oh." Dean walked along in silence until they reached the car. He slid into the passenger seat and waited for Sam to sit behind the wheel before he said anything else. "That still bothers you, huh? The heart attack thing?"

Sam cleared his throat. Hell yes it bothered him. Dean nearly died, would have died. There was nothing the doctors could do. Not that anything silly like 'possible' or 'feasible' was going to stop him. But what he said was, "Yeah, I guess," as he started the car.

"It won't happen again," Dean said as they pulled on to the road. "I tuned down the tasers."

Sam nodded. He had no intention of going after a rawhead again. As a matter of fact, since he usually found their hunts these days, he tended not to pay too close attention to anything that looked like it could be a rawhead. Not that he was ignoring them or avoiding them, but there were plenty of other things out there to hunt. Sam pulled out his cell to call Karen. She agreed to meet them at the apartment with Rae.

He spotted her car in the parking lot when they pulled in.

"I owe Amy's mom a tune-up," Dean said as they parked. "You know, for picking up Rae."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that," Sam replied, shutting the big motor off.

"She's really a great kid," Dean said, grinning ear to ear. "You know it?"

"Yeah, I know. Come on, she's probably waiting for us." Sam motioned with his head.

Dean jumped out of the car. Sam winced when he noticed his brother stumble a little. He got out, trying not to look like he was rushing to walk beside Dean. "She's going to think you're drunk, you know."

Dean shrugged. "S'okay. Not like it'd be the first time. Better than the alternative." He shot Sam a strong look.

"I won't tell her if you don't want me to. But Dean, we really need to talk about this."

"Nah!" Dean waved a hand.

"Dean, you just had a severe, two hour panic attack. We really, really need to talk about this," Sam insisted.

"Nah!" Dean shook his head, which caused him to stumble from side to side. Sam grabbed his brother's elbow to steady him. "Sammy, you might be a pain in my ass," Dean looked up at him, "but you're a good little brother."

"Yeah? I try." Sam steered Dean to the apartment. Sure enough, there were three figures standing outside the door.

"Dad!" Rae came flying at them.

To his surprise, Dean broke his hold on his brother's elbow and dropped to one knee with both arms spread. "Hey, beautiful!"

Rae plowed into the waiting embrace. "What happened? You okay?"

Sam glared at Karen, who shrugged sheepishly. "She, uh, just wouldn't let up."

"Just fine, darlin'." Dean held out a hand without moving from his current position. "Amy's mom, thanks. I owe you a tune-up."

Karen's eyes flitted to Sam, who nodded, as she shook Dean's hand. "No problem. Glad to help."

"Come on Dean," Sam lifted Dean onto his feet, with Rae still clinging to him. "Time to go in."