A/N: Hope you enjoy the chapter! Read and review!
Disclaimer: I do not own any SN characters, only the plot.
Sam arose from his chair in the waiting room, it had been an hour since Bobby left to go back to the hotel he had been staying in; he promised he would stay in town so long as Sam needed him for moral support. He took a few long strides and ended up in Dean's room. He grimaced; no matter how many times he saw Dean in these past three days, he still couldn't get used to looking at his older brother in the hospital bed with all of the tubes and needles running in and out of Dean's flesh. He couldn't get over all of the tape that held them in place, and the worst part of it was the breathing tube.
Sam watched the steady rise of Dean's chest from the ventilator attached to the breathing tube. It scared Sam to see his brother unconscious in bed, so pale and motionless; he was afraid that the slightest touch could break his brother into a thousand pieces. He slowly approached the chair that was placed besides Dean's hospital bed. He sat down, his eyes welling with tears, and gently placed his hand upon Dean's, trying not to move the I.V. in his hand. He smiled sadly, if Dean knew Sam was touching his hand the way he was, he knew Dean would have killed him.
Although none of this was amusing to Sam, he couldn't shake the sad smile upon his face. "Why'd you have to do that Dean? Why did you have to be so impatient? Why—"Sam's voiced cracked, and he paused, taking in a deep breath, and exhaled. "Why do you always have to throw your life away to save mine, huh? Don't you realize that if you die; I-I don't know what will happen to me Dean, I don't know what will become of me." Sam whispered softly. "You have to pull through this, my life is depending on it; so many lives are depending upon it…" He whispered, his voice slowly dissipating into silence.
Sam lifted his hand from Dean's, and slowly folded them into prayer. "I know I haven't made the choices that you would want me to make, but this is not Dean's time, not yet. You can't take him away from me, you even pulled him from hell because he was so important; heal him, he still has work to do for you…" Sam trailed off. "If you do this for me, I won't use my powers, and I will do whatever it takes to stop Lilith from breaking the seals, but you have to do this for me…" Sam whispered faintly.
Thirty minutes passed, and as Sam almost drifted off into slumber for the first time in a day or so, he heard light footsteps approach him. Sam turned his head to see Castiel standing there beside him now, gazing at Dean's motionless body. "Hello Sam." Castiel whispered, not moving his eyes from Dean. "What do you want?" Sam questioned bitterly, he didn't trust Castiel or Uriel in the same way that they didn't trust him. "You called for me, and I came." Castiel answered, gazing upon Sam now, curiously.
"Dean… They think he won't wake up; you have to do something… You pulled him from hell, can't you heal him, and you are an angel!" Sam pleaded. Castiel frowned; he had grown to like Dean, and respected him. "Sam, sometimes we have to let things run their course. I can't always save people and pull them from their fate; that is not my power to do that. I can only do what I am commanded to do… And right now, I have no commands to heal Dean." Castiel responded, although you could hear a hint of disappointment in his voice. "Then get the hell out, if you don't need Dean, then Dean doesn't need you!" Sam yelled. "Sam—"Castiel began but Sam interjected, "Just go!" Sam yelled loudly, hurt and anger in his voice. Castiel just nodded and when Sam turned his attention back to Dean, he was gone.
A tear dripped down Sam's face as he watched his big brother lying there helplessly. Sam felt so helpless himself, so desperate. "Do you remember when I was eight years old?" Sam questioned, not expecting an answer, just silence. "I got into a fight with one of the school bullies, and I was beat to hell, and you came and you beat the crap out of that kid." Sam smiled genuinely now, a small laugh escaping from his throat. "I remember, we skipped the rest of the day, and you brought me home, cleaning my cuts and checking my bruises. I remember you told me that as long as you were around that I wouldn't have to worry, because you would always be watching, you would always be there…Dean, I need you to stick to that, and I need you to be here. I don't care what it takes, if I have to go find some hoodoo priest or a faith healer, I am going to keep you alive, okay?" Sam whispered, he felt like he was losing his mind.
A few Days later….
A few days had come to past, and still no change. Sam had fallen into a deep depression, almost certain that his brother wouldn't wake up. The doctors had begun to question whether or not that they should keep Dean on life support, and every time Sam refused to take him off. He kept telling the doctors the same thing: that Dean would wake up and prove them wrong. Sam sat slumped in the chair, dozing off to sleep, when he saw Dean's hand twitch. At first, Sam didn't do anything, he just assumed it was a muscle spasm, but then he saw Dean's eyes moving under his eyelids, and then his eyes shot open. He saw Dean was fully awake now, choking on the breathing tube. "Help!" Sam yelled, running in the hallway.
The nurse slowly removed the breathing tube as Dean coughed it up. They unhooked most of the tubes and needles, but some remained, controlling his pain meds. "Dean?" Sam questioned once the nurse left. He looked over to same with a wary face. "W-who are you?" Dean questioned hoarsely, not remembering anything, who he was, where he had been, or even why he was here. "Dean, it's me, Sam. Don't you remember? I'm your little brother." Sam answered slowly, realizing that some of the head trauma most likely induced the amnesia. "What do you remember?" Sam questioned, he was worried that his brother had forgotten everything. It would be difficult taking care of him until he remembered.
"Nothing, I don't even know who I am…" Dean responded, clearly still orienting himself to the hospital room, his voice was still husky and hoarse, and his eyes blinked rapidly, adjusting to the bright lights. "Can you move?" Sam questioned, just noticing that since his brother had woken up, he hadn't moved anything except his eyes. "I don't know…" Dean trailed off, as he tried to move his limbs, but failed miserably. "I-I can't…" He answered glumly, he sighed, depressed. "Listen, it'll just take awhile, you were out for almost a week, Dean, with a little physical therapy, I'm sure we'll have you back on your feet in no time flat." Sam said encouragingly, trying to lift his brother's mood. "I'm starving…" Dean mumbled. Sam let out a small laugh. 'At least that hasn't changed…' Sam thought to himself. "Alright, I'll go fetch a wheel chair so I can bring you to the cafeteria." Sam stated as he left into the hallway.