Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in Supernatural, I just borrow.
Thanks for all of the reviews and reads! This is the last actual chapter. I might post an epilogue if I feel like it eventually. My next story is actually already in the works; it's a lot of angsty! Sam and sick! Dean.
John Winchester sat by Dean's bed, listening to the hum of the ventilator. It had been twelve hours since he had brought Dean into the hospital- four since he had been taken out of the operating room. It had taken six hours to repair the internal bleeding, to remove his spleen, and slowly pull the rib out of his lung.. It had taken another two to insert a few pins into his broken leg.
Dean was now sporting a black cast on his leg, and another one on his arm. His face was covered in lacerations and bruises-some were stitched up, but the others were just superficial. He also had a case of pneumonia-he was on antibiotics to clear it up.
And he was in a coma.
John just wanted Dean to wake up, to breathe on his own. He wanted to see his son grinning, eating a piece of pie-hell, even teasing him. He wanted his son back.
John's phone rang-it was Bobby. He walked outside of the ICU before answering.
"What's up?" he asked, nervous. He would never forgive himself if Sam was hurt.
"He's got a sprained wrist, a minor concussion, and a fractured femur, but otherwise he's fine," Bobby answered. "He just woke up."
"He was unconcius?" John asked, suddenly alert.
"I think he passed out as I got there," Bobby answered, his tone clipped. He was furious with Winchester-who left their ten year old son alone in the woods?
If John Winchester hadn't forced his sons to do this training excercise, Dean wouldn't be fighting for his life in the hospital.
"How's Dean?" Bobby asked. As pissed off as he was at John Winchester, he could sympathize with the man-John loved his sons more than anything.
Not to mention that Bobby was worried about the boy who had become almost a son to him.
"He's out of surgery, and breathing with a ventilator. His spleen was taken out, a rib penetrated his lung, and he had some internal bleeding, but they were able to fix it. He's-" John had to pause to take a breath. The devastating reality of the situation was beginning to sink in; Dean was in a coma. "He's in a coma."
Bobby managed to hold back a gasp. He had been expecting the news-but it was hard to imagine the lively, active teenager he knew lying in a hospital bed.
"Well, he's a fighter," Bobby managed to choke out. "He'll be up and around by this time tomorrow."
"We'll see," John replied, looking down at his son. "I'm going to go, I want to grab a cup of coffee in the cafeteria quick. I'll keep you updated."
John Winchester hung up and looked down at his son, hoping to see a twitch or any type of movement. Of course, he didn't-just Dean's battered, broken body.
"You've got to fight, Ace," John said, kneeling down by Dean's bedside. "You've got to fight."
SPNSPNSPN
Dean was struggling against an invisible wall, trying to fight his way back towards the light.
He was in agony-every part of his body was on fire. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of his family.
How could he leave Sam, his innocent, smart-ass little brother? How could he leave his father, the brave man who'd done so much for him? He knew he couldn't; he wasn't ready to leave them behind.
But he was hurting. He just wanted the pain to stop; as he began to sink again, he heard one phrase.
You've got to fight, Ace.
Those words gave him strength; he dug in and continued to fight, hoping that he would see his family again.
SPNSPNSPN
Sam Winchester was scared.
He was going home today-a week and a half after being admitted into the hospital. He would be sent home with two casts and a wheelchair, because he couldn't use crutches with his sprained wrist. All-in-all, he was fine.
But Dean wasn't.
He'd been in a coma for the past week and a half, not even breathing on his own. Sam hadn't seen him, hadn't talked to him-but he'd heard all about it from Bobby and his father. They were talking about reapers, and that scared him.
If Dean died, Sam wouldn't be able to live.
"Are ya ready to go, Sammy?" Bobby entered the room and grabbed Sam's backpack. "I was thinkin' we could watch a few movies at the motel."
"Yeah," Sam answered, pushing himself off of the bed. He banged his wrist on the wall, but he was so hopped up on painkillers he didn't care.
"Easy, kiddo," Bobby told the boy, helping him into the wheelchair.
When they reached Bobby's truck, Bobby had to help him into the cab. Sam hated every moment of this-his inability to do nearly anything pissed him off.
But there was one thing he could do, one thing that he had to do.
"Bobby, I want to see Dean," Sam told the grizzled hunter as he started the truck. "I want to see my brother."
"Sam..." Bobby began. He was unsure of what to say; if Sam saw his older brother as he was now, he could be traumatized for life.
Especially if Dean didn't pull through.
"I have to see him, Bobby," Sam begged. "He's my big brother, and he wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for me."
"You hold on a minute!" Bobby shouted. "None of this was your fault, Sam. None of it. You didn't know Dean's rope would fail. You didn't design it. So I don't want to hear that EVER again."
"Okay," Sam quickly backed off. "But still, I have to see him! Please?"
Bobby bit his lip, but sighed. "Fine."
As they drove to the hospital, Sam hoped and prayed that his big brother would be alright.
SPNSPNSPN
When John saw Sam and Bobby entering the hospital, he was worried. He had no issue with Sam seeing Dean, other than the pain it could cause Sam. He knew that the kid adored his older brother.
He walked out into the hallway, where Bobby had stopped. Sam just stared up at him, waiting patiently.
"Sam, are you sure you want to do this?" John asked. "He's not awake."
"I need to talk to him, Dad," Sam answered. "Please, just let me talk to him."
John couldn't say no to his son; Sam had been through a lot in the past couple of weeks, and this could be his only chance to talk to his brother.
"Okay," John agreed. He pushed Sam's wheelchair into the room, and then turned to Bobby. "Let's give them some time."
The two adults left, leaving Sam alone with Dean.
SPNSPNSPN
"Dean?" Sam queried, inching closer to his sibling. "Can you hear me?"
Of course, there wasn't an answer.
"Okay, I'm going to act like you can," Sam continued. "Dean, you've got to come back to us. Dad misses you; I miss you. You've always been here for me, and you've told me to go for my dreams, but if you're not around, what's the point in it?"
Sam thought he saw Dean twitch; he held his breath. Would his brother wake up?
"I need you here with me, Dean. You keep me on track, and if you leave me alone with Dad, we're going to end up killing each other. I need my jerk of an older brother here, to save me."
For a few moments, there was nothing. But slowly, Dean began to stir-just as John and Bobby walked in.
"Dean!" John exclaimed, rushing to his son's side. He was relieved-his son was alive and well.
Within ten minutes, the ventilator was out, and Dean could speak. He looked down at his brother, grinning from ear to ear.
"I'll never leave you alone, bitch."
"Better not, jerk," Sam retorted, smiling. He'd gotten everything he wanted.
Dean was alive, and their family was still whole.
That was all that mattered.
Thank you for following this story!