Thanks to everyone following this. This chapter won't answer your questions, but those answers are coming! They have been written!! (Not blessed by hotshow, who is still on vacation, but written!)

Chapter 5

Sam was once again surprised by his big brother when Dean walked into the hospital and called the receptionist by her first name. A few passing nurses stopped to talk to him and somehow Dean knew all their names, too. Since when did Dean remember women's names? They called Sam 'Sammy', which he automatically corrected.

"Jeez, Sammy," Dean mumbled as they headed up the stairs, "relax, would you?"

"What?" Sam looked over in surprise, more shocked to see the quick grimace of pain on his brother's face. Damn it, they shouldn't have taken the stairs. "What did I do?"

"Liz and Emily. They were just being nice. You didn't have to jump down their throats like that," Dean explained. Sam noticed all possible emotion drain from his brother's face as he looked for additional signs of pain.

With a sigh more of frustration than remorse, Sam nodded. "I just hate other people calling me that."

"Sure. Now."

Sam flinched. That's right, he probably knew those nurses when he had that freaky amnesia. Sam was pretty sure Dean had no idea just how rare regressive amnesia was. The one time he tried to explain it, his brother just brushed him off. He suspected that had been harder on Dean than his brother ever let on.

"Sorry," he mumbled. How much worse could he feel? He wondered if there was any more crap just waiting to dump on his head.

Sam pushed his hand along the stair rail when it slipped off into space. As he lurched forward, his balance thrown temporarily off, Sam clutched at the empty air searching for the railing. An ear shattering crash from below of metal on tile told him what happened to the rail.

When his shoulder was caught in a vice-like grip, Sam was not surprised. He glanced into Dean's worried face. "You okay, Sammy?"

Sam nodded, unable to understand why the rail would just fall away like that. "I'm okay, Dean. No one was hurt, were they?" He tried to move closer to the edge of the stairs to look, but his brother held him back.

"We'll check from upstairs," Dean said as he was forced to climb the last few steps to the second floor. With a final shove, Dean passed him to look out over the lobby. Sam had to settle for looking over his brother's shoulder. He let out a loud sigh of relief at the fact it looked like no one was hurt.

"Ginny!" Dean shouted down. "Hey, what the hell happened? Anyone hurt?"

"No," the woman with silver hair called up from the receptionist's desk. "Everyone down here is fine. I'll call maintenance."

Dean waved before turning around with a scowl and furrowed forehead. "This is weird."

"That's not something you see everyday," Sam agreed, still trying to get a better view of the damage below. Dean shoved him away. Sam would protest, maybe even try to force his way back, except for two things: one, Dean was acting like he should, the big brother, and two, he did not want Dean to hurt those ribs any more by struggling with him.

Sam followed his brother until Dean stopped short at the waiting area. Once again his brother's face was inscrutable. Sam stepped around him to sign Dean in to see George. As he signed in Dean Cooper, a familiar voice made him look up.

"Mornin' Sam!"

"Hey, George." Sam grinned. "Good to see you."

"Been a while." George stepped up behind the receptionist to check the book. "Just one person ahead of your brother. See you in about fifteen minutes." George waved behind Sam. Sam glanced back to see Dean offer a short wave. George disappeared behind a door.

Sam walked back to where Dean found a place to sit. "George said it would be about fifteen minutes."

"Translation: sit around for at least half an hour before we get to you." Dean snorted. "You and your brilliant ideas."

Sam rolled his eyes. Honestly, Dean could really be a pain in the ass. "You're about to run out of pain pills, Dean."

Dean shrugged, looking at him. "I can get those if I need them."

"How?" Sam demanded, glaring.

"I'm not helpless," he mumbled, eyes drifting away.

Sam turned to see what caught his brother's attention, but he saw no signs of a woman walking past. He ran both hands through his hair, attempting to reign in his frustration. This was unknown territory. Dean had always just been Dean. Now that Dean was not acting like himself most of the time, Sam felt out of his depth. He was in unknown waters and squalls kept popping up to blow him off-course.

"Dean," Sam worked to keep his voice soft and level, "I never said that. I'm just worried about you. I'd like to be sure it's just your ribs." His mind screamed 'since you won't let me check,' but he managed not to let that out.

"Since when?"

The question was so soft, Sam was not sure it came from his brother. He looked around, but no one was near them. "Since when what?" Sam asked.

Dean's eyes were cold when they focused on him. "Since when have you been so worried about me?"

Sam clutched the chair he sat in. "Oh, I don't know," he hissed, feeling that anger rise up again. "Maybe since you had a heart attack? Since you were in a coma in the hospital? Since you were out cold for at least fifteen minutes in the middle of a graveyard!"

Dean waved off Sam's response like it didn't matter. Sam slumped down in his chair, frustration coming over him like a tidal wave. He refused to speak again until they called his brother. Clearly Dean had the same idea. His brother would not even look at him.

"Dean Cooper." A nurse poked her head out of the door George disappeared behind earlier.

Dean stood without sparing a glance for Sam and headed for the door. Sam fell in step behind his brother. If Dean thought for an instant that little disagreement was going to stop him from going in, big brother had better think again. Sure enough, Dean shot him a dirty look as he stepped into the small exam room. Instead of the nurse asking the usual questions about why they were here, she and Dean engaged in some small talk about her family before she left them alone.

"So how much were we at the hospital last time, anyway?" Sam asked, still blown away by the fact his brother seemed to know everyone.

"Too much," Dean sighed.

"Because of the strokes?" Sam asked, keeping his voice soft. Dean nodded, still not looking at him. "But that wasn't why you met George, was it?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope. That was because Doc Wayne is a freaking busybody."

"Which is why he's such a good doctor," George's voice cut through the room as the door shut behind him. "So, Dean, you're back." He grinned widely as he shook Dean's hand.

"Good to see you, George," Dean said with a smile.

"And what brings you here instead of meeting me at a bar?" George asked, opening a folder and flipping to a fresh page.

Dean glared at Sam. Sam guessed that meant he should answer for his brother. "Dean fell a few days ago. I'm worried that he may have cracked some ribs."

"Let me guess." George's eyes sparkled as he looked at Dean. "It's nothing, right?"

That lop-sided grin emerged on Dean's face. "Yep. Nothing."

"Good." George beamed and Sam's heart sank. What was wrong with this guy? "Then you won't mind removing your shirt so I can take a look."

Sam's heart instantly lifted as Dean's face fell. He always did like George. Really.

"I don't see why," Dean protested. "It hardly bothers me."

Sam snorted. He didn't mean to, but he did and he was not sorry in the least. Especially when he saw George's eyes narrow on Dean.

"Then you shouldn't mind if I take a look, Dean. Come on, or will I have to cut it off?" George headed for the cabinets on the far side of the room. He took out a large pair of scissors.

Dean scowled, so Sam put in, "And I'll help him."

"Fine," Dean sighed, sounding like he was barely putting up with them. He slowly removed his outer plaid shirt. Before lifting his black t-shirt, he took a deep breath. Sam watched, intrigued. Sam always wondered how Dean could appear perfectly fine when there was something really painfully wrong with him. Holding his breath, Dean lifted the black t-shirt up.

Sam gasped, eyes bulging. Dean's left side was one huge bruise, angry red and purple. "Looks worse than it is," Dean said, catching Sam's eye. It would have been more convincing if his brother didn't sound out of breath when he said it.

"Uh-huh." Sam crossed both arms over his chest as he glowered at his stubborn brother.

A low whistle pierced the room. "Fell, huh? Off a house, maybe?" George lifted Dean's left arm to peer at the battered flesh. "I want to do some x-rays."

Dean's eyes rolled and Sam felt immense relief. George grabbed Dean's chin then. "Did this happen when you fell, too?"

Dean nodded, eyes cold.

"Then we'll get some x-rays of that. I'm sure nothing could pierce that thick skull of yours, but let's make sure." George jotted something down in his folder. "Don't bother getting dressed, I'll get a gown for you to wear while we do the x-rays." He glanced up at Dean's face. "Okay, so I owe you a couple of beers now. Happy?"

"Thrilled," Dean muttered as a smile flashed across George's face.

"Back in a minute." George hurried out of the exam room.

Dean glowered at Sam. "Happy?"

Sam beamed at his brother. "Yes, I am."

"Because I'm sitting here half-naked waiting for x-rays?" Dean demanded, arms crossing over his bare chest.

"No." Sam pushed off the wall so he could stand over his brother and look him in the eye. "Because now I won't have to sit around wondering if there is something really wrong with you." He took a deep breath before plowing through with the admission he needed to make. "Because this has all been my fault. I've been pushing too hard lately. And Dean, if anything really bad happened to you because of me…"

"Hey, whoa! Slow down there!" Dean's eyes widened in alarm. "Your fault? Sam, it isn't your fault I got myself thrown halfway through a cemetery." Dean shrugged. "Occupational hazard. That's all. Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?" Sam demanded, stepping closer. "And if the same thing had happened to me, would you not worry about it?"

"Sam," Dean had that bewildered expression, "that's not the same thing."

"Really? And why…" But Sam's next question was interrupted by the door opening again.

"Here you are, Dean." A thin hospital gown, the kind with the ties in the back, landed on Dean's head. Dean pulled it off scowling.

"I can leave my pants on, right? You don't need to x-ray below my stomach." Dean slipped it on, grimacing as he reached around to secure the ties. Sam reached out to take them from his brother and tie them himself.

"That's fine," George agreed. "No one wants to see your ass hanging out anyway."

"Well," Dean grinned, "I don't know about that."

Sam rolled his eyes at George, who chuckled. "The x-ray technician is a guy."

"Nevermind." Dean agreed with a nod, sliding off the exam table. "Not my type."

Sam followed closely, determined that Dean not squirm out of this at the last minute. Besides, he wanted to see Dean's x-rays for himself. He needed to know that the only thing wrong with his brother was just some cracked or broken ribs. Dean could recover from that, it wouldn't be the first time. Just so long as there weren't any internal injuries. He tried to push the image of Dean in a coma from his mind, but it kept filtering to the front.

"Sammy?"

Sam found Dean staring at him. "Huh? What?"

"You okay?" Dean wore that classic worried-big-brother expression which brought a smile to Sam's face.

"Fine." Sam nodded to reassure his brother. "No problem."

Dean hung back, grabbing Sam's arm. "You looked, well," Dean's voice dropped to a whisper, "scared."

Sam grabbed his brother and spun him around to march into the room where x-rays were conducted. "I won't be once I know there's nothing else wrong with you." He shoved his brother toward George.

"Okay, Dean. I'll try to make this quick," George promised. Sam hoped that was a promise George could keep. His brother was not always long on patience.