Chapter 8

"Mr. Hetfield?"

Sam looked up in a daze, then realized the doctor was talking to him. He leaped to his feet, towering over the woman. She had curly blonde hair that she kept tied back in a ponytail and warm brown eyes. At the moment they were full of compassion.

"Walk with me," she said kindly.

Sam followed as she led him out of the waiting room and down a series of hallways into a quieter section of the hospital, away from the noise and intensity of the trauma ward.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked. "A cup of coffee, some water?"

"No. Thank you," Sam replied, his gut twisting. "How are they?"

"Your friend Jimmy will be just fine," she told him, leading him to a stretch of empty chairs next to a window where they could speak privately.

A small piece of the burden on Sam's shoulders lifted as he sat down next to her. He had given the doctors a different name for Cas in an attempt to avoid suspicion, not to mention detection in case anyone came looking for them.

"He was severely dehydrated and we believe he collapsed due to acute exhaustion," she continued. "Frankly, judging by his vital signs, he should have dropped days ago. We've got him on fluids now and he's resting comfortably. But he'll probably be able to go home in two or three days. So long as he swears to never run himself down like that again. It could have been much worse."

Sam nodded, glancing out the window and trying to maintain his composure. The ache in his stomach tightened into a painful knot.

"How's my brother?" he asked quietly.

The doctor looked at her lap, choosing her words carefully. Never a good sign.

"The seizures have stopped," she told him slowly. "His vitals are stabilizing. We've moved him to intensive care for now just to be safe, but if his condition has improved enough by tomorrow morning, we'll move him up to recovery."

Sam nodded again, not meeting her eyes. He could feel a massive "but" coming…

"Our scans indicate that your brother suffered a massive intracranial hemorrhage. Bleeding in his brain. We didn't find any signs of external trauma to his head, so we're thinking it was some kind of aneurysm. A big one, I'm afraid."

Sam tried to fight down the tears pooling in his eyes, but he could feel the pressure building in his head and heat rising in his face.

"Will… will he be OK?" he asked hoarsely.

The doctor folded her hands in her lap. "He's alive, but there's no telling what sort of neurological damage we could be dealing with here. We won't know the full extent of his condition unless he regains consciousness. But he's breathing on his own and his basic lower brain function all appears to be intact, which is very good news. We'll just have to wait and see about the rest."

Sam swallowed a painful lump in his throat, staring at his hands.

"Hey," the doctor said gently. "You couldn't have known. People can walk around with aneurysms for decades without ever knowing. There's nothing you could have done to prevent this."

The first tear dripped down Sam's face when she said it. He brushed it away. He knew she was just trying to be nice, but her words stung worse than a knife to his gut. She had no idea just how much this was his fault. Completely. Dean's screams as the archangel ripped him apart still echoed in Sam's head...

He should have never gone to the Cage. He should never have gone behind his brother's back, even to save his life.

He may very well have lost him anyway.

A/N: Still not over "Dark Dynasty." T_T

On a side note, you should all stop what you're doing and go to YouTube and search for the song "Skulls" by Bastille (love them!). The lyrics and the whole feel of the song are so perfect for Sam and Dean, I couldn't believe it the first time I heard it. There's LITERALLY a line that goes, "When all of our friends are dead and just a memory / And we're side by side, it's always been just you and me."

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/followed/faved so far! Glad you're enjoying it! :)