Chapter 19: A Bullet for a Brother

Sam! Sam!

A dizziness suddenly swept over Sam as Jessica's voice hit him. He shut his eyes to make the room stop spinning only to find himself somewhere else when he opened them. He was sitting in the grass under a willow tree and in front of him was a tombstone. Next to it sat the girl, Jessica.

"Emily," the girl corrected.

"You're alright," Sam said to Emily, "I should thank you for saving my brother."

"Now's not the time for thanks," Emily said hurriedly. "Dean is in danger again."

"How?" Sam asked, fear tinting his voice.

"He knows about Her!" Emily replied, "I told him and now she has come to get rid of him. She thinks it was Jessica who told him."

"Where is Jessica?" Sam asked, "Is she alright?"

"She will be if you save Dean!" Emily insisted, "Now go!"

"Sam? Sam?"

Sam opened his eyes; he was in the hospital again and the doctor was calling his name.

"Sam, can you hear me?"

"Dean," Sam breathed, "I have to go!"

He leapt from the examining table, pushing past the doctor. He knew which room his brother was in and ran there. He only hoped he wasn't too late.

Dean didn't have much time to register what had happened. One moment Mrs. Hoffkins had the gun pointed at him, the next she was spinning towards the door, as if anticipating something, or having a premonition…then Dean realized that she had foreseen someone as the door to the room sprang open.
But no matter what he did Dean couldn't stop what happened next. A thousand times afterward he tried to envision a way that it would have ended differently, but even he knew there was nothing he could have done; that still didn't stop the guilt from eating away at him.
He saw Sam rush into the room and, even without psychic powers, knew what would happen.

"NO!" he cried, leaping from the hospital bed.

Everything else was a blur to Dean. There were two gun shots. He saw the surprise in Sam's eyes before he staggered back, his body falling forward. He saw the woman flee, but he wasn't concerned about her any more. He fell at Sam's side, trying to fight off the panic that was engulfing his brain.

"Sam…Sammy…" he choked, pulling his brother into his arms, cradling his head against his body. "Oh God, Sammy…"

He pulled off his over shirt, pressing it against the two bullet wounds. God, there was so much blood…

This can't be happening…he told himself, no longer angry at anyone anymore, only scared.

"Dean…"

The fear, the pain, the weakness in his brother's voice tore at Dean's heart like a knife.

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm here," Dean said softly, trying to keep the tears out of his voice, from spilling from his eyes.

"Emily…told me…you were in trouble…"

It was too much. The tears came and he couldn't stop them. He buried his face in his little brother's hair and a sob escaped him.

"Oh God, Sammy, don't leave me. Don't you dare. Just hang in there. Everything's gonna be fine."

"You wouldn't…be crying…if you really thought that…" Sam's mouth twisted into a weak smile.

"Come on, little brother. Don't talk like that," Dean forced himself to say.

"I love you…Dean…"

Dean shook his head, swallowing a lump in his throat that must have been his heart. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. He didn't want to say good bye to his brother. He had fought his way from that well to protect him and now he was failing him.

"I love you too, Sammy," Dean whispered, laying his forehead against Sam's.

Distantly he heard voices, but all he concentrating on was Sam's heartbeats. How weak they sounded…How strained…But as long as he heard them it meant there was hope, and that hope was what Dean was clinging to. No more words needed to be said; all Dean could do now was hold his brother and try a hand at prayer.

Then there were doctors taking Sam away and men in white coats telling Dean to 'be patient. They were doing all they could'. Then men calling themselves the doctors were saying things to Dean that he couldn't understand. He sat in the waiting room, covered in Sam's blood, dazed, studying the bruises on his arms and wrists where spirits had grabbed him. That seemed like an eternity ago now, although it had only been hours. It was another time, another world, another Dean. Now it was only Sammy and this haze he was struggling in. Then he found himself struggling through a weak prayer.

God, if you're there…Then save my brother, please. I know I don't have any right to ask and I know I don't deserve anything from you…but please. I'll never ask you for another thing ever again. And Sammy doesn't deserve to die… If you have to take someone, then take me. I'd be willing to die for Sam. Just don't take him away from me….please.

There are no words to describe my fear at that moment. I kept having to tell myself that it wasn't my fault. And really, it wasn't. But that didn't change anything in my eyes. I'm his big brother. I'm supposed to be able to stop bullets, fly, and leap tall buildings in a single bound. I know I can't do those things, and so does Sam on the outside, but deep down he still truly believes that I can. And that's why I failed him. But life's too short to pretend I'm a superhero. Life's too short for guilt. It's even too short for regret.