A/N: Thanks for all the follows, favorites and reviews

Chapter IV:

The sight of Sam when they finally found him - in his bedroom- would haunt Dean for decades to come. He was sprawling on his bed, totally still. His eyes were closed and blood was streaming out of them. The color on his face had passed white and had stopped at a mixture of blue and purple. Blood also trickled from his mouth and nose. The syringe still stuck to his neck, blue glow filling not even a fifth of it. Sam's hand still clutched to it.

"Sam! Sammy!" Dean ran to him, placing one ear on top of his brother's mouth as his hand searched for the wrist to check a pulse. Damn it Sam! It took him a while to find any. "He is not breathing! SAM!" He violently pushed Sam's face to the side and injected all the blue glow back into the other man's body.

Sam's body twitched, from his mouth came a loud gasp, and unfocused, shocked eyes opened for a second before everything went back to flatline. Cas moved forward hoping to have enough angel juice to heal the man but Dean, unaware of the other man's actions, blocked his access.

"SAM!" He grabbed his brother's T-shirt and shook him. Then, his brother's chest moved rhythmically up and down. Dean let go a breath he didn't know he was holding as he pull the needle out and just shoved it away, he pressed two fingers into his carotid. The pulse was strong and stable. "Sammy," he repeated, now much gentler, while he stroke the other man's hair.

Sam opened his eyes slowly. "What happened?"

Dean's jaw was clenched and his eyes threw dagger but his hands were gentle as they took his pulse, his temperature and accommodated the pillows so his brother was lying down to his liking. He spoke while he worked, using his "fatherly voice". The one he always liked to use when Sam screwed up and that clearly indicated "I know best and I told you so." "You didn't listen to me, that's what happened. You didn't listen to me and you almost hit the dirt! "

Sam HATED that voice, because he hated being wrong, because he hated disappointing his brother, because he hated that Dean always treated him as a kid instead of a partner. He also hated his brother manhandling him like he was a little boy, but for the first couple of minutes he was too out of it to get away from his hold. Then it all came back to him, and his slapped his brother's hand, sitting up and looking around for the syringe, he didn't see it. "Where's the grace?"

Sam's sudden movement took Dean by surprise but it took him a second to get his hands back on top of the younger man. "Stay down! I injected back into you!"

Sam's launched forward taking the hands pressing down up with him. "What? Dean! "

"You barely had a pulse! STAY DOWN!" This time he put more force behind his hands. "Besides, I found another way, one that doesn't involve you continuously flirting with death." Sam glared. "The guy is old and ugly, Sammy. I would never had thought he was your type."

Sam sighed. "Ok, what's your plan?" He tried to sit up one more time.

"I said stay down!" Dean barked a command this time but Sam could hear the fear behind the anger.

"I feel fine, Dean" He said gently, but his brother's arm didn't relent. " I promise."

"I don't give a rat ass! We tried it your way and I almost had to watch you die, again." He stressed the last word. "Now, we do it my way and you will lie down!" He voice was raised and angry and his mouth resembled a growling dog.

Sam would have fought against him but he could see the pain, the fear, the defeatism, and guilt behind his brother's facade. He knew there wasn't much he could do to make him feel better, all he could was give him this small victory, so he stopped fighting and lay down. "OK, what's your plan?"

Dean smiled smugly. "Charlie."

Sam frowned from his bed. "Charlie?"

"Yes, we'll bring her here and have her 'donate' some of Gadreel's grace."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "And why would Charlie have his grace?"

Dean had the decency to look guilty while he explained how she had died, and Sam looked at him horrified.

"Please Sammy, I know what you are thinking and you are right. But not now, please? Once you are ok, you can rip me a new one, but now..." he finished running his hands through his hair and keeping them in the back of his head.

Sam's plan to scream, to prove to his brother that the youngest Winchester didn't hold the monopoly on fuck-ups got thrown out the window. "Well, at least she is alive and that's all that really matters." He attempted to make his brother feel better. "But we can't ask Charlie for that, we can't put her health at risk."

"We'll be taking barely any grace, she would barely feel it because she is fine." Dean nodded in his direction and added "unlike you. Right cas?"

Cas who had remained silent and was probably wondering who Charlie was, just nodded.

"Still… Dean." The king of puppy dog eyes tried again.

"Well," Dean shrugged, "we can ask her and if she says no, we'll find plan C." They both knew she would never say no and Dean was counting on that. "It's her decision."

"So when it comes to her is her decision, but when it comes to me, it's yours?"

Dean smirked. "Well she isn't lucky enough to have an awesome big brother."

Sam just rolled his eyes and tried a half amused smile. He turned to look at the angel. "Cas, can you zap into Oz and bring someone here?"

"I am not familiar with OZ, I am not sure how my powers would work there. It might work, but it might not."

Dean clapped and rubbed his hands with a sly smile. "Ok then, so let's find how to bring Charlie back. Can you zap all the men of letter's books on Oz to this room?"

SAM-DEAN-CHARLIE-SAM-DEAN-CHARLIE-

"Charlie, can you hear me?" Dean spoke to the swirling, disgusting, purple goo that was in the bowl on his hand. He had moved one of the chairs in the room to the left of Sam's bed. Now, both Winchester's brother were leaning towards the unreal concoction one of the books had suggested could help communicate with someone in Oz.

Cas had left them claiming that there were too many people in the room and too little information about Oz. They all agreed that his time would be most productively spent in the library researching books about fading grace, angelic healing, and any sort of un-evil curing spell.

The violet sludge bubbled and Charlie's surprised voice came through. "WHAT? Dean is that you? Am I losing my mind?"

Dean's nose wrinkle and his tongue out came in a fake gag at the disgusting burps of purple. Why magic was always so gross? "Nop, not losing your mind. It's really me. We need your help."

"What are you doing in the flowers?" Charlie's aloof voice asked him.

"What? I am not...No… it doesn't matter. Sam is sick and we need your help." He made sure to stress the urgency in the last line.

Charlie's voice now got serious and meant business. "Of course, what's going on? What do you need? Wait... Is Sam ok?"

Sam leaned closer to the bowl and spoke softly. "Hi Charlie, I am fine don't worry about me."

Dean glared at him and pushed him out with one hand, not putting any force behind the push but more like a warning gesture. "No, he isn't," He was firm and clear. "He is really sick and we need you to get your ass to the bunker like two days ago. Can you do that? Can you come back?"

Charlie took her time to think, or so Dean hoped. "Sure, I'll ask Dorothy, she has to know how to get back. I'll be there before you guys can say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

Sam chuckled, Dean sighed. "That's reassuring." He said sarcastically, he had no idea what that word meant or how he was supposed to repeat it.

"Ok Bitches, catch up with you in a jiffy. And Sam?"

Sam leaned his ear closer to the bowl. "Yeah?"

"I know you are a big, tough MOFO but take it easy ok?"

SAM-DEAN- CAS-CHARLIE-SAM-DEAN- CAS- CHARLIE-SAM-DEAN- CAS- CHARLIE-

Sam looked at his watch, five hours down three to go. He was going to make it, he pepped talked himself. In all truth he wasn't how he was going to do it, but what other choice did he have? He wished he had followed Dean's 'not so much of a suggestion' to stay laying on his bed but no, in true Winchester style he had insisted on greeting Charlie in the library instead of his room. Even if he was just sitting down and hadn't moved a muscle for the past half hour, his heart was beating a marathon a minute. The knives stabbing his head made him see flashes of bright light whenever he focused on something and his insides were burning so badly that he was scared that fire might come out of his mouth if he talked. By the time that though hit his brain, he was almost sure he was already more than half way to delirious.

Charlie had arrived not even half an hour after they 'called' her and they were already waiting for her in there. Dean had insisted they both sat on one of the most comfortable chairs in the room, a plushy two seater arm chair that was stationed against the wall and facing the library style tables in the center of the chamber. Charlie had sat on the desk closer to them and had turned the chair to face the love seat they were in. Cas sat opposite to Charlie and was mostly absorbed in the pile books they had found him with when they got to the library, though he did throw a comment here and there.

The girl was now playing with the angelic grace needle that was placed on the table by her side, spinning it and rolling it back and forward in an almost unconscious movement while she processed all the information that had just been given to her.

She looked at them with wide open eyes and a matching mouth. "Woow... I was brought back to life by an angel? I feel so biblical! That is some serious meta madness even for Winchester standards." She turned to look at the syringe with a smile that tried to cover her terrified face, acting was not Charlie's strong suit. But what she lacked in fakeness and disregard for her own well being she compensated in warm heart and a strong sense of what's right. "Of course I will help! I was missing being mauled in the Winchester's name." Her smirk grew bigger and both boys guilty looks would have stopped the heart of any cookie bearer grandmother. "Oh come on, guys, I was just kidding! How many times have you saved my life? You are like my own personal Little John and Robin Hood! Much better brothers than my X-box! I'd do anything to help you!" She offered them her trade-mark honest, full face smile.

Sam returned her smile with a caring and affectionate one, Dean just rolled his eyes as if the display of affection was too much for him. Then, she pouted in her traditional overdramatic childish way and played with the syringe. "Though a needle? I hate needles!" She whined.

Sam gave a chuckle that turned into an endless coughing fit. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably as all eyes bored on him and he was unable to stop his body from threatening his lungs with expulsion. A handful of tissue papers appeared in front of his eyes and he took them, covering his mouth. Dean moved beside him and suddenly his brother's body heat was gone and he felt cold, but was unable to follow the other man's movement as the coughs propelled him forward and downwards.

Charlie's eyebrows reached up and she pouted. "Ohh, Sam! We need to get you to a doctor!" Her voice was alarmed. Sam was just relieved that his cough had subsided enough for them to hear someone speaking over it.

Sam took a big intake of air and shook his head. "We can't." He coughed a little more, but it was dwindling. "If we go to an ER ...cough...it will take...cough, cough, cough...hours for them to look at me...cough…and...cough, cough, cough... there is no way we can explain...cough...to them how I am miraculously being healed every 8 hours." Sam elbowed his knee and rested his forehead and eyes in the palm of his hand.

Charlie frowned and rocked on her seat as if wondering if she should go comfort the man. She bit her fingernail. "I know you are getting the whole angelic healing stuff, but you know, they might be able to give you something that will also help you get better or at least make the time between those sessions a little more comfortable."

He lifted his head, placing his chin on his palm because his head was suddenly too heavy. "It's either or, and Cas' juice is much more than any doctor can do for me." He tried to put stamina on his voice, but he knew he was slow and weak. Cas had disappeared halfway through his sentence and he couldn't muster the energy to react.

Suddenly Sam felt something being placed on his shoulders and lifted his head to look up. Dean was covering him with a blanket and offering him a glass of water and a pill with a weak smile. "You were trembling so bad I was scared the building would start shaking. Where did Cas go?"

Sam had to give it to his brother, instead of giving to his natural instinct of panicking, screaming, hovering, getting all father bear and annoying the hell out of him. Dean had chosen to leave the room when he started his coughing marathon and do something productive while giving himself some time to calm his nerves. He knew it must have been hard on his brother, so he let him doctor him for a little while. The blanket felt good anyway. He took the pill, put it in his mouth and then took the water.

Charlie perked on her chair. "No idea, man. That was wicked! And, you know? People in Oz do NOT like that word. He puffed… was gone!"

Dean shook it off with a shake of his head. "He'll be back." He finished wrapping him in the blanket and with his right hand grabbed his wrist placing his thumb over his pulse, he lifted his left hand to look at his watch but put it back down before it was all the way up. "Fuck, Sam! Your heart is going to explode!"

"Well, you always said you wanted me to die of something normal like a heart attack," he only lifted his eyes to look at his brother, his head was too heavy and joked half hearted.

Dean didn't seem amused. "You need to lie down." He placed one hand on his forehead and Sam wasn't fast enough to avoid it. "Shit, Sam!"

Sam just enjoyed the coolness and familiarity of the touch, closing his eyes and letting Dean's hand push his forehead down until the back of his head rested on the couch. He felt Dean taking the ball of tissue still from his limp hand. Charlies gasped and Sam opened his eyes alarmed. The girl's eyes were wide open and staring at Dean's hand. He followed with his eyes and realized there was no hiding it, blood was drenching out of the paper like a Japanese flag. He sank his head even more into the fluffiness of the couch.

Dean sighed and looked at him.

"Yeah, I know," he rubbed his eyes and gave a sad smirk. "Insert-the-swearing-word-of-your-choice, Sam!"

"Not funny, man!"

Charlie walked to kneel right in front of the youngest Winchester and looked up to meet his eyes with a compassionate smile. Sam smiled back at her. She rubbed his knee. "Sam, I know you are tough and I know better than anyone how annoying its to be treated like a helpless, frail child, specially by Sargent Grumpy Care bear over there," she nodded in Dean's direction, "But you need to go to bed, dude. Ok?"

Dean, who was standing beside his brother, one hand on his shoulder, looked up and quietly whispered. "There is a god!" They both knew Sam would never agree to go to bed if he asked, but Charlie was a whole different ball park.

Sam thought about it for a second. He did feel like crap and he wasn't going to feel any better for the next few hours. And how could he say no to sweet, goofy Charlie?

Charlie didn't wait for a response, she stood up, grabbed Sam by the hands and pulled. "Come on. big guy." Her pull did nothing to lift Sam actual weight, but he didn't fight it either, he went with the motion.

Dean, behind him, pushed his back. "Can you walk?"

"Of course I can walk," he replied before testing if he really could. His knees faltered and his legs were made of jello.

Dean hadn't trust his brothers words and was ready to catch him. Placing himself under his armpit, he stood straight, pulling them both up into a vertical position.

"Dean," Sam begged quietly, though there was not much that Dean could do to give him the strength to walk by himself.

"Shhh!" Dean ordered.

A/N: Please, let me know what you think.