Okay, another shorter chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to all who are reading and commenting, I really appreciate it.

Cindy.

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"Okay Sam, I'm going to remove the bandages now. Don't try to move your fingers until I tell you to, alright?" Dr. Ameche stated as he sat next to Sam's bed.

Sam looked to Dean with apprehension. Dean nodded slightly and smiled as he placed his hand firmly on Sam's shoulder. "It'll be okay Sammy."

"Go ahead Dr. Ameche, I'm ready," Sam said, watching the doctor intently. Bobby stood nervously at the end of the bed.

"Alright, so I will first remove the outer layer of the bandage, then the middle layer, and finally the last layer. I won't remove the bandage directly on the wounds. Let's start with your right hand first," Dr. Ameche said. "Are you ready Sam?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Sam replied.

Dr. Ameche nodded and gently took Sam's right hand. He began to unwrap the outer layer of bandages. Once this layer was removed, Sam's fingertips became visible. "Okay Sam, I'm going to remove the next layer. Don't try to move your fingers just yet. I'll let you know when I want you to move them."

Sam nodded slightly, feeling Dean's grip on his shoulder tighten a little. The doctor proceeded to remove the next layer of bandages. Sam's fingers became completely visible. Sam peered at his fingers and his heart rate immediately jumped. His mouth went dry and he turned his eyes away. Dr. Ameche noticed Sam's reaction and gently patted his forearm. "It's okay Sam. I know this is stressful, but everything is going to be fine," the doctor said with a reassuring smile. Sam gave a small smile back.

"Alright, the last layer is ready to come off."

Dr. Ameche removed the final layer until just the bandages over Sam's wounds remained. He pulled Sam's hand up toward him and gently poked Sam's fingertips with a metal instrument.

"Can you feel that Sam?" the doctor asked.

"Um, yeah! It's dull but I can feel it," Sam replied, sitting up straighter on his bed.

"Good! That's good Sam," Dr. Ameche remarked. "Now, I want you to try and move your fingers for me."

Sam nodded as he attempted to wriggle his fingers. Nothing happened. Dean moved his hand from Sam's shoulder down his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"That's okay Sammy. Try again," he prodded.

Sam gazed up at Dean, then back at the doctor. Bobby shuffled from one foot to the other at the end of the bed.

"Try again Sam," the doctor said.

Sam concentrated on his hand again. After a moment, his fingertips twitched. Sam lifted his gaze up to the doctor expectantly. The doctor smiled.

"That's good Sam. Try again. Try to move your fingers."

Sam tried again and was able to wiggle his fingers, albeit weakly.

Sam looked up to Dean, a dimpled smile on his face. Dean's heart leapt in his chest. It had been a long time since he had seen that smile. He clapped Sam on the arm happily.

"I knew you could do it Sammy! Look at that Bobby!" Dean exclaimed. Bobby smiled first at Dean, then at Sam.

"That's great Sam!" Bobby cried.

"Wonderful Sam," Dr. Ameche said, laying Sam's hand down. He then took Sam's left hand.

"Let's do your left hand now. Are you ready?"

"Sure Dr. Ameche," Sam quipped, his spirits lifting for the first time in nearly two weeks.

The doctor removed the bandages from Sam's left hand in the same fashion he did with the right.

"Okay Sam, can you feel that?" Dr. Ameche asked as he poked Sam's fingertips.

Sam frowned as he looked to Dr. Ameche. "I can't feel it. Why can't I feel it?" he cried.

Dr. Ameche frowned slightly. "It's okay Sam. Your left hand had more damage than your right. This doesn't mean that this is permanent. Can you try and move your fingers for me?"

Sam tried and tried, but was unable to get even the slightest movement from his left hand. He visibly deflated against his pillows, the elation from moments ago gone. His eyes fell to his lap as they filled with tears. "Dean?" he softly whispered.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed and lifted Sam's face up to meet his. "It's okay Sammy. We'll start PT and everything will work out, you'll see," he comforted.

"I can't feel my fingers. I can't move them!" Sam cried.

Bobby stared at the floor, unable to look at Sam's face. The boy had been through hell and he deserved something positive to happen. He definitely didn't deserve this.

Dr. Ameche grasped Sam's forearms firmly. "Sam, this isn't as bad as it looks. Granted, it isn't what we wanted to see but we can work through this," the doctor said, trying to calm the increasingly agitated young man. "There are things we can do to try and stimulate the nerves. This isn't the end of it."

"Can I get full use back in it? Can you tell me that I can regain full use? Huh doctor?!" Sam cried as he pulled his arms out of the doctor's grasp.

"Sam, I'm sorry but it's highly doubtful that you'll regain full use. The right hand maybe 90 percent, but I'll be happy just to get you some movement back in your left," Dr. Ameche stated.

"Huh! I'm glad you'll be happy!" Sam snorted sarcastically.

"Sam, I know how you're feeling, but..."

"You know how I'm feeling? Are you serious? You can use both your hands doctor! Tell me you know how I feel when you can't feel your fingers!" Sam growled, his face red and his cheeks wet.

Dean placed his hand on Sam's arm and squeezed lightly. "Sam, calm down. We'll work through this, we'll..."

"No! My hand is useless! I'm useless!" Sam cried. "Just...please just leave me alone. I want to be alone," Sam said, pulling his arm away and closing his eyes.

"Sam, come on..." Dean started.

"Dean, please...I'm tired, just leave me alone for a while."

Dean slowly stood up, his eyes never leaving his distraught brothers face.

"Okay Sammy. You sleep now and we'll talk later," Dean said as he and Bobby followed the doctor to the door.

Sam turned on his side, his back to the retreating trio. Dean saw his brother's shoulders shaking and he could barely keep himself from rushing to Sam's side. Every fiber in his body screamed for him to stay and comfort him, but he had to abide by Sam's wish to be alone. He reluctantly went through the door and closed it softly behind him. Once outside the room, he immediately turned to the doctor.

"What the hell was that!" he shouted through clenched teeth.

"Dean, I was just telling Sam the truth. There's little chance of him regaining use of his left hand. He needed to know that," the doctor defended.

"No! What he needed to know was that as long as there was ANY chance, with hard work and a little faith, he COULD regain use of his hand!" Dean replied heatedly.

"I'm sorry Dean, but the chance of that is just not very good."

"Yeah, I know. But there is a chance, maybe a small one, but there is one. Right?"

"I suppose there is always a chance."

"That's what Sam needs to hear! If you tell him there's no chance, then he's not going to fight for it. If he knows there's a chance, even if it's small, it gives him what he needs, and Sam will work himself to the end to achieve his goal. That's Sam, that's the way he is. He's a fighter, but he needs that one thing to know it's worth the fight."

"And what is that one thing?"

"Hope Dr. Ameche. Hope."

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There you go. Another chapter down, eight more to go. Please let me know how I'm doing. Take care.

Cindy.