Slowly the thick, cotton-padded sounds in the room began to take form and he focused on the strange noises. A sudden dread filled him as he recognized a familiar bleeping and his head pounded in perfect synch with the bleating pulse. Wishing that the annoying tone would leave him alone, he groaned softly and then heard a new sound. Compelled to open his eyes, he blinked in the painful brightness and then saw a blurred face loom into view.

"Oh, thank god!"

Realizing that his hands were being gently cradled either side of him, he then felt his fingers squeezed excitedly and frowned in confusion.

"Hey!"

Turning slightly, he saw another hazy face move into focus and sighed in relief. Unsure for moment exactly why he was so pleased to see that his brother was okay, he was nonetheless glad and felt his dry lips pull into a small smile.

"Dean?"

A gentle tap on his cheek and he realized he had closed his eyes. Looking back up at the two anxious faces, he managed a nod in reply.

"I'll go let the nurse know." Ellen offered, grinning merrily and winking in reassurance at Sam as she wandered from the room.

Sam watched her leave and then perched back on the chair beside his brother's bed. "Dude … I'm so sick of watching you lying unconscious."

Dean turned his head and frowned up at Sam. "Hey …?"

"You know where you are … right?"

"I … erm …" Dean licked his cracked lips and sighed wearily. "Hospital, I guess."

Sam smiled, "You remember what happened?"

Dean closed his eyes and thought over his response. Moving his free hand slowly across his abdomen, he winced slightly and gave a small nod.

"Man!" Sam laughed nervously, "What kind of crazy shit was that, huh? I mean, did you really think - "

"No."

Sam watched his brother turn and gaze at him with tired, sorrow-filled eyes.

"When it comes to you, I don't think." Dean continued quietly, "I just do whatever it takes. Okay?"

Sam flinched a little at the anger that laced Dean's voice and looked down at the beige linoleum floor beneath his brother's bed.

"Just like you did when you opened that book."

Sam flicked up his head with a gasp and, ready with his defense, was surprised to see the small smile that rested on his brother's pale face.

"I understand, Sam. I know why you did it."

Sam stared at Dean warily and took in what he could of his brother's calm expression. Unable to believe that Dean was offering a rational debate and at a loss without the blind fury that usually accompanied discussions of this type, Sam could only watch his brother in silence.

"Still doesn't make it the plan of the century."

Sam chanced a smile and nodded slightly.

"And really I ought to tear you a new one but …" Dean looked away and there was a hint of a grimace as he adjusted his position in the bed. "I know what you were trying to do ... and … I get it."

Sam could feel relief and doubt fighting for supremacy within him. As good as it was to hear his brother's words, this wasn't Dean. Surrender just wasn't in him. And it sent an icy shiver up Sam's spine.

"I guess we all have a breaking point, Sammy."

And Sam's heart sank. Thinking back over all the moments like this over the past few months when his usually indestructible big brother would show signs of cracking under the strain of it all, Sam wondered if this was more than even Dean could handle. And regret tasted bitter on his tongue.

Sighing heavily, Dean closed his eyes and swallowed back the lump in his tight throat. "I just wish you'd talked to me about it first."

"Would it have made a difference?"

Dean paused and then shot Sam a small smile. "No."

Sam matched his smile and felt it warm him a little. "Man …" He shook his head and slouched in his seat with a small, nervous laugh. "I think I'd prefer you to just launch at me … this calm talking is so not right."

"Oh, make up your mind, Sammy!" Dean sighed wearily, his smile spreading, "You want girlie chat or not? Dude! I can't keep up!"

"Sorry."

Dean watched Sam for a short moment and then shook his head slowly. "Me, too." He took a deep breath and winced as the action pulled at his injuries. "For so many things."

"No." Realizing he was still holding Dean's hand, Sam squeezed his brother's fingers and edged a little closer. "Man, I've lost count of the number of times you've pulled my ass out of danger … or taken a hit for me … or … well …" He sniffed back tears and nodded slightly. "I guess I never thank you for that."

Dean considered his brother's words for a moment and then a gentle frown settled over his eyes. Lifting his free arm, he studied the plastic IV line that tapered down to sink under the skin on the back of his hand. "Morphine, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. That explains it."

"What?" Sam urged worriedly.

"Why I'm sharing this shockingly sweet moment with you." Dean pulled his fingers free from Sam's and covered his face with his hands. "Dude … talk about picking your moments. You knew my defenses were down." He groaned wearily and then gave a gentle laugh. "Bitch!"

Sam wiped his wet face with the back of his wrist and chuckled softly. "Saw my chance and took it." He agreed merrily, swallowing back further tears. "Jerk."

"So …" Dragging his hands down his face and then flopping them onto the mattress either side of him, Dean sighed loudly. "Where is your demon buddy now?"

Unsure how to reply, Sam looked down at his hands and gave a small shrug.

"Sam?"

"I don't know."

"What?" Dean turned to his brother and frowned uneasily. "You let him go?"

Another shrug in response and Sam fell quiet once again.

"Sammy?"

With a groan of dismay, Sam stood from his chair and avoided his brother's gaze as he headed across to the window and peered out at the grey morning sky. Watching the rain running down the glass, he contemplated how to explain all that had happened and could hear Dean's repeated urges for a response becoming more panicked.

After a while, Sam turned and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. He rested back against the window sill and took a deep breath. "I still had to get the feds off your tail, man …"

Dean watched as his brother quickly told all that had happened in the hours since Bobby and Ellen had rushed him to the hospital, leaving Sam with the demon and a town-load of trouble. Not best pleased with the whole notion itself, he listened in silence as Sam spoke of hiding from the sheriff's department, scattering the last of the chaos demon birds and then fleeing from Henricksen.

Sam took a moment to allow his words to settle and his brother's expression was unreadable. But the rapid two-step of the heart monitor revealed all and it's shrill melody filled the room.

"But …" Sam shrugged and stepped away from the window, crossing the gap between them to stand over his brother. "I couldn't let him die there." He explained, recounting dragging Henricksen from the wreck and how close they had both come to going up in flames with the car. "I guess that's a good thing, huh? I'm not a monster, after all." Sam's flicker of a smile was lost in the worry that filled his face as he watched Dean close his eyes and roll his head away from him.

"Come on, man, I'm sorry." Sam urged quickly, leaning over the bed. "I was desperate and afraid. I know I fucked up but it worked out okay in the end. Didn't it?"

Dean was silent, the fast bleeping heart rhythm still betraying all as his chest rose and fell rapidly.

"Dean? Please, man. I need you to talk to me." Sam continued, his nerves making his words spill out in almost a jumble. "It's you and me, man. You're all I've got. I need to know we're okay." He timidly reached out to place his hand on Dean's arm and flinched as his touch was instantly shrugged off. "Aw, come on, Dean! Please! I said I'm sorry."

"Sam - " Dean began in a whisper.

"I didn't know what to do! I can't lose you. Not now. Not after everything." Sam closed his eyes and tears tumbled down his flushed face. "I was desperate. But it's okay now. Right?"

"Sam, shut up!" Dean suddenly shouted, spinning back to him and gasping as the movement pulled at his side. Grabbing at his abdomen, his knees and shoulders lifted from the bed and torn muscles screamed in protest. The pain was intense and he arched his neck, his face reddening with the strain.

"Dean?" Sam grabbed his brother's shoulders and leaned closer, watching him struggling against the pain he was in. "Dean, you gotta breathe!"

The infinitely fast heart rhythm was now slowing at an alarming rate and Sam shook his head in panic. "Come on, man! Relax, okay?" Sam then began to search for the nurse call button and stepped back from his brother for a second, glad for an excuse to look away from the open agony on Dean's face.

Suddenly the room door opened and, with a gasp of shock, Ellen quickly put down the coffee she held and hurried over to Dean. Glancing at Sam for answers and finding none, she leaned over the bed rail and placed her hands on either side of Dean's face. "Hey … honey, it's okay."

"Hu-urts!" Dean hissed through clenched teeth.

"Oh, honey, I know." Ellen quickly sought out the button for the morphine drip and gave it a firm push. She then moved back to face him and leaned even closer, holding his face in her hands and resting her forehead against his. "Just let it out. Okay? Let it go." She murmured softly and gently stroked his temples with her thumbs.

Sam took a few steps back from the side of the bed, feeling suddenly awkward and in the way as he watched the tender moment. And then he saw the way Dean began to respond and for a second, Ellen's blonde hair tumbling past his brother's face, he finally understood just how hard it had been for Dean to live the nightmarish wish the Djinn had created and how it must have broken his heart to leave. It was rare to see such open yearning in his brother and was disconcerting. And it saddened Sam that he had never missed their mother's presence quite as powerfully.

Dean reached up and grasped Ellen's wrists, sighing out a little of the breath he had been holding and then gasping a new as pain shot through him.

"Shh …" Ellen stroked her hands down his face and onto his shoulders, smoothing out the tension there. "Easy … let it go, honey … that's it …"

His shoulders finally resting back against the mattress and his knees down, Dean exhaled the last of the tension with a weary groan. Keeping his eyes closed, he let go of Ellen's wrists and whimpered slightly as she instinctively placed a small kiss on his forehead.

Ellen paused for a moment to ensure Dean was calm and then turned her head to look over at Sam. Her heart sank as she saw him slumped against the window, hanging his head in obvious sorrow. Stepping back from Dean and noting his lack of reaction as he succumbed to much needed sleep, Ellen walked round the bed and approached Sam slowly.

Aware of her nearing, Sam's shoulders tensed and he backed against the window. "Where's Bobby?"

Ellen sighed and halted a short way from Sam. "Repairing the car."

Nodding in understanding, Sam gave a brief, cold chuckle and lifted his head to face her. "And avoiding me."

Shrugging her shoulders, Ellen tucked her hair behind her ears and took a deep breath. "Who knows what the hell goes on under that godforsaken truckers' cap of his." Seeing the instant smile she was hoping for, Ellen moved closer and placed her hand on Sam's arm. "It'll be okay, honey."

"Yeah." Sam sighed, "I guess it has to be. Somehow."

Ellen's smile fell away and she blinked away tears. "God, Sammy … we'd have given anything for you kids to not know any of this life …"

Sam watched the sorrow of years filled with pain cross her face and stepped away from the window. Instinct took over and, before he knew what he was doing, he put his arms around her and hugged her against him. Feeling her respond and wrap her arms about his waist, he rested his cheek on the top of her head and pulled her even closer.

The roof of the hospital was awash with deep puddles of the relentless rain. Clouds hung low over the city and hid back the vain attempts the morning sunshine made to break through the water logged sky.

Usually busy with staff climbing up to the small terrace to catch a lung-full of nicotine in their mid-morning break, the drenched rooftop was empty except for the two dark shadows perched on the edge of the building.

Peering out over the rain-soaked city, the younger of the two lifted his face to the sky and moaned contentedly as water pounded against his pale skin.

"Oh, please!" The other scoffed derisively, "Don't tell me you have some romantic affection for this bag of skin and bones I created for you."

"Hmm …" Malphas murmured, sticking out his tongue to taste the rain. "It's been too long."

"Yeah, right."

Malphas lowered his head and turned to his companion, amusement flickering on his lips. "What? You don't enjoy this?"

"Enjoy what?"

"The sensations … the emotions … the very essence of 'being' rather than existing."

With a groan of disgust, the elder of the two shook his head and looked away. "You always were full of whimsical nonsense, Mal."

Malphas watched the greying man in interest and gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Then why choose me?"

"Because I knew you could be trusted to let your pathetic emotions get in the way."

Flinching at the sudden anger in his companions tone, Malphas frowned and looked down past his dangling feet to the street below.

"Anyone else and the prize would have been damaged."

His frown deepening, Malphas glanced up at the man beside him. "He certainly is powerful."

The other nodded happily.

"But …" Malphas took a moment to choose his words and looked out through the rain. "Perhaps not as dark as I feel you would wish him to be."

"Give it time." Came the assured response, "Confusion and chaos is your speciality and you have worked wonders on my boy."

Silence fell between them and rain spattered on their drenched shoulders. Malphas was lost in his thoughts and then suddenly aware of gentle, pitying laughter beside him.

"You like him … don't you."

Malphas gave a small shrug in reply.

"Oh, Mal … you've been living among them for too long …"

Malphas shook his head in quick protest, "I just don't - "

"NO!" The sudden fury seemed to echo in the air like a rumble of thunder and the bright flash of yellow in the older man's eyes mirrored the gentle flicker of lightning somewhere in the distance.

Malphas watched in silent dread and dared not breathe.

"You are here at my bidding and can be just as easily sent back."

Malphas saw the bright yellow glow begin to fade and sighed in relief, nodding quickly.

"You forget yourself, Mal." The elder demon continued, an icy smile pulling at his eerily calm face.

"Yes, my lord."

"Now … tell me everything you read from them." The yellow-eyed demon urged. "Starting with that meddling Harvelle bitch."