JESS

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Wow, thanks for all the great reviews and thanks for not hurting me for the major cliffhanger last time. They are greatly appreciated. Also, sorry this is a little later than promised. I had a small family crisis and that ate up all my writing time the last two days.

A/N2: If I flub some of the medical stuff please forgive me. I tried to do some research and asked a fellow writer (thanks by the way to Salem's Child for the info I hope I do you justice) but some things may still not quite jive. So yeah, mistakes…all my own.

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

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Chaos reigned in the hospital room as doctors and nurses worked frantically to bring Sam back.

"No heartbeat."

"Start compressions."

"Give him a shot of epi."

"Charge the paddles to 600."

The steady drone of the heart monitor, cutting through all of the chaos was the only thing constant in the room.

On the outskirts, stood an old woman, seemingly invisible to everyone else just watching. She watched attentively as the medical staff fought to get Sam's heart to beat again as she rubbed the amulet hanging around her neck which began to glow slightly with a steady pulse of light.

"Clear."

Everyone stepped back and the doctor, Dr. Hardig, placed the paddles to Sam's chest. With a whooshing thud, the paddles charged and Sam's body arched off the table before settling back lifelessly against the bed.

"Again, charging. Come on, Sam, fight!"

Nurses resumed compressions pushing air into Sam's still lungs as they waited for the paddles to charge again.

The old woman moved to look through the window in the door never letting her hand drop from the amulet.

She watched as a different nurse attended to Dean who had slid down the wall seemingly unaware of anything except that his little brother was dying behind the door his eyes were starring at so fixatedly.

"Sir, sir can you hear me?" the nurse asked as she tried to gain Dean's attention.

The old woman smiled smugly at the sight of Dean's anguish before turning back to look at Sam as they shocked him once again. His body arched and fell, but the heart monitor never ceased in its steady drone.

"Damn it! Once again, charging. Come on, Sam! You can fight this!" Dr. Hardig yelled as they once again began compressions. This third time would be Sam's last chance. If they couldn't get him back this time, it would have been too long.

The old woman stared at the chaos surrounding Sam one more time before looking down at her amulet which was glowing a little brighter with each pulse and she could feels a slight vibration beat through her fingers where they touched the cool metal. "Not yet," she said softly as she looked back up. "Not until they know the reason for it." With that she straightened to her full height and let the amulet go.

"Clear!"

Once again everyone stepped back and the paddles were brought to Sam's chest. The whooshing thud sounded and Sam's body arched slightly higher before settling back onto the bed.

Beep, beep…beep….beep.

"We've got a rhythm." One nurse said as she checked his pulse. "Pulse is steady."

"Alright, come on, Sam," Dr. Hardig pleaded as he watched the heart monitor, praying that it would stay steady.

"No spontaneous breath sounds," the nurse who had been manning the bag said before continuing to breathe for Sam.

"What?" Dr. Hardig asked before turning to check out Sam once again. After a few moments he pulled away with a frustrated sigh. "Okay, let's get him on a ventilator and run some more tests. I want to get a chest x-ray and an MRI. There's got to be something else that is causing all of this. Also, let's try a different anti-biotic. Something's gotta work."

The nurses just nodded as they set to work.

Dr. Hardig walked towards the door feeling the adrenaline that had been coursing through him start to ebb as the danger of losing his patient started to fade. Now he just had to tell Sam's brother what had happened. He took a deep breath before opening the door and heading down the hall towards the waiting room.

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Dean sat in one of the hard plastic chairs shaking slightly as he stared at the floor not really seeing it.

He had made his way to the waiting room on shaky legs after a nurse had asked him if maybe he should have a doctor look at him. Dean had protested saying that he was fine and to prove his point had made it all the way to the chair without falling flat on his face. Now sitting here, he wasn't quite sure if he was alright.

In his head, he played over and over again what had happened. The loud speaker announcing the Code Blue and suddenly realizing that it was Sam's room. After that things were a little blurry, a few images standing out in stark reality. One of those being his brother lying there as still as death and the heart monitor shrieking out a solid note indicating that Sam's heart wasn't beating.

He gave an involuntary shiver at the memory. He would never admit it to anyone, but the thought of losing his brother scared him shitless. He couldn't remember ever being without his brother. It just seemed right that his brother was always around. Granted his brother had left to go to college, but at least Dean knew that he was still around and that if he wanted to he could go see him. To Dean, family meant everything, and without Sam he didn't know what he would do.

"Here, drink this."

Dean looked up and saw a bottle of apple juice being thrust in his face. He pulled back a little and looked from it to the pretty brunette nurse that was holding it out to him. Her name tag read Paige and her eyes told him that she wouldn't take no for an answer. Reluctantly, he took the bottle noticing how his hands shook slightly as he tried to unscrew the lid. "Thanks," he mumbled before taking a small sip. The sweet liquid slid down his throat and seemed to help steady him slightly.

Paige sat down beside him watching as he drank the juice slowly and noticed how pale his face was. A couple days growth of beard shown on his face, and there were dark circles under his eyes. "So when was the last time you ate?" she asked and he looked at her with mild surprise before he frowned in concentration as he tried to think back.

When did I eat last? "I don't know. Earlier today I think? Don't worry. I'm fine," he finished as he took another sip.

She just scoffed at him. "Pfft. If you've had anything besides coffee since you got her, then I'm a monkey's uncle," she deadpanned and Dean just looked at her with a funny expression on his face.

"How would you know?" he challenged as he looked her up and down. Not bad actually. Pretty lips, a slightly curvy figure even though she wore hospital scrubs, and brown hair that was pinned back with small curling tendrils framing her face.

"I know the type," she said never looking away, challenging him to say differently. "Besides, you and your brother are the talk of the hospital," she said casually as she waved her hand around absently to take in the building. "By what I've heard, I would have thought you two were celebrities or something," Paige said as she looked Dean up and down as if she were sizing him up and found him completely lacking.

As she continued to look at him, Dean began to feel very self-conscious and he shifted slightly in his seat. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he said a little taken back by this woman. Most of the time, the ladies went crazy for him, but evidently not this one. And in some weird way, that made her seem even hotter to him.

"Look, don't get me wrong. You two are definitely easy on the eyes," she said with a slight smirk and Dean found himself smiling slightly also. "But to me, your health comes first. It won't do your brother any good if you're put in a bed right next to him because you were too pig-headed to even go get something to eat. But who am I to tell you what to do."

Dean just looked at her as her words sunk in and he started to feel the tingles of guilt begin to slide into his heart. What was it his father always told him? Family above everything…but take care of yourself too so you can take of them. If nothing else, he knew what Sam would tell him. Dean finally looked away and then nodded. "I guess you're right," he said softly.

Paige leaned forward slightly and Dean caught a whiff of vanilla from her hair. "Excuse me? I don't think I quite heard you," she said cupping a hand to ear.

Dean gave a lopsided grin and looked up at her again. "You're right," he said a little louder. "I'll try to take better care of myself from now on."

Paige just smiled before sitting back again.

"Thanks," Dean said and really meant it.

"No problem." She slapped him on the knee before getting up. "I'll see if I can rustle up some food for you. And don't worry…your brother's in good hands. Dr. Hardig is one of our best doctors."

Dean gave her a slight smile before she turned to leave.

"Oh, by the way," she said stopping and turning back to him. She fished his cell phone out of her pocket and handed it to him. "I picked this up. It was still on so I shut it off. Evidently, whoever you were talking to hung up."

She then walked away leaving Dean staring at his phone. Crap. Did Dad hear what happened? Dean didn't know if the message had shut off or not before everything went sideways.

He sighed loudly before placing the phone back in his pocket. He'd have to call back later.

"Mr. Jackson?" Dr. Hardig asked as he came up to Dean.

Dean looked up in slight surprise before jumping to his feet his worry coming back full force. "How's Sam? What happened? Is he okay? He didn't-"

"He's fine," Dr. Hardig said halting Dean's questions.

Dean gave a huge sigh of relief and had to sit down before his legs threatened to fold under him. "Oh, thanks God," Dean said shakily.

Dr. Hardig sat down beside him. "We were able to get his heart started again. To be quite frank, we're not sure why."

Dean's fears ratcheted up again as he listened to the doctor speak. "But, he's okay right? There weren't any problems were there?"

Dr. Hardig pursed his lips hating what he had to say next. "There were a few…complications," he said and saw the fear grow in Dean's eyes. "For some reason, your brother's temperature skyrocketed again and he had another seizure because of it. Once the seizure passed, his heart gave out. We used the defibulators on him and got him back, but for some reason he isn't breathing on his own."

Dean's face paled even more and it seemed like his heart dropped into his feet. Oh god, no. Please.

"Hopefully, in time, once his body starts to recover, he should start breathing on his own again; but for now we'll keep him on a ventilator. Other than that, we're running some tests. We've also switched to a different anti-biotic. Hopefully, this one will work. But for now, all we can do is wait and see."

Dean just sat there in shock looking at the doctor not exactly sure what to say.

First, his muscles all lock up, then his heart stops, and now he isn't breathing? Oh, God. "Can I see him?" Dean asked trying not to let his voice break as fear and sadness threatened to overwhelm him.

Dr. Hardig studied Dean for a moment before nodding. "In a little bit. We're going to run a few more tests. I'm going to send Sam down for an X-ray and MRI. Hopefully those will tell us a little more about what's going on with your brother."

Fat chance. Dean wanted to say, but he knew that the doctor wouldn't understand so he just nodded.

Dr. Hardig mumbled something more before getting up and leaving Dean alone again. The longer he sat, the angrier he became. He clenched his hands into fists and clenched his jaw as his anger built. Once he found out what was hurting his brother, he was so going to pummel it with his bare fists before killing it.

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The elevator doors pinged open and John stepped off looking both directions before heading right down the hall.

It was getting close to visiting hours being over and most people were starting to leave saying their goodbyes to their loved ones. John weaved his way through the hall as he quickly began looking at the numbers on doors. 318, 316, 314…

As he neared the nurses' station, one of the nurses spotted him and watched as he searched each room he passed. "Sir, can I help you?" she asked feeling a little a little nervous as he walked closer.

John continued to look around distractedly for a moment before finally focusing on the woman in front of him. "I need to find room 302," John said crisply expecting her to answer without question.

"May I ask who you're looking for?" the nurse, Sandy, asked not sure who this man was, but not yet ready to let him know exactly where the room was just yet.

John gritted his teeth slightly as he sighed inwardly. He knew that she was just doing her job protecting her patients' privacy, but he didn't have time for this. He just wanted to shout at her that Sam may be dying, and for her to just tell him where the hell the room was. But without knowing what name the boys were using it made things a little more difficult. And right now, she held information that he needed. "My youngest, Sam, was admitted here. He's very sick. My other son, Dean, called to tell me what happened but…we were cut off." John swallowed hard remembering Dean's muffled pleas and the sudden feeling like he couldn't breathe when he figured out what had caused that reaction.

Sandy blinked in surprise. His sons? "Oh, uh, just down that way fourth door on the left."

She pointed down the hall a little further and John hesitated for a moment as some of the tension left his shoulders. At least he was alive. "How is he?" he asked turning his gaze back to the nurse again.

Sandy bit her lip slightly not sure what to tell him. "He's been having a rough time. But we're trying everything we can," she said sympathy present in her voice.

John paused once again before nodding and thanked her for her help.

As he walked down the hall he tried to prepare himself for what he might find, but he knew that seeing either of his sons in pain was never an easy thing for him. When he reached the door he took a calming breath and then pushed the door open. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks, nothing quite registering with his shocked mind.

The steady beep of the heart monitor was the first thing to make sense and then he heard the hiss-click-whoosh of a ventilator and looked to see the tube coming out of Sam's mouth. Lying there on the bed amongst the impossible amount of tubes, machines, and monitors was his youngest. John stepped further into the room taking in just how serious this was.

As he neared the bed, he looked more closely at Sam; and couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lip. When Sam was awake, his face was usually full of worry and determination as his eyes would flash with defiance or calculated calm, but when he slept…he was the total opposite. The worry lines smoothed and his sharp eyes, hidden behind closed lids made him look like the young boy that still resided inside the resilient young man he had become.

As John came closer he then turned his sights to his eldest. Dean was slumped in the hard plastic chair beside Sam's bed with his head resting on the edge next to Sam's shoulder as he held his little brother's hand being careful not to bump any of the wires or I.V.s that seemed to snake in and around Sam's body like bind weed on a healthy plant.

Tears welled in John's eyes at the sight of these two men. His boys. While awake they were the hard and wizened hunters that John had work hard to make them, but when they slept…they looked like they did when they were still young and innocent. John stared at them for a moment longer before finally stepping forward and laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Dean?" he said softly.

When Dean didn't stir, John frowned slightly and shook him a little more. "Dean," he said a little louder and finally Dean began to stir.

Dean raised his head up off the mattress and first looked at his hand entwined with Sam's before looking up at his brother's face. What had woken him? He then felt a hand tightening slightly on his shoulder and he turned groggy eyes towards the person standing next to him and blinked several times before he recognized who it was. "Dad?" he croaked out and straightened even more as his sleep fogged brain fought to catch up.

John just smiled. "Hey, Dean."

Dean just stared at him for a moment before launching himself at his father.

John stumbled back slightly as Dean wrapped his arms around him and hugged him fiercely.

For the moment, Dean didn't care that he should be strong or that he wasn't supposed to show his emotions. He was just glad his dad was here.

John just held him knowing that Dean needed this almost as much as he did. "It's okay, Dean. It'll be okay," he said softly not sure what else to say.

Dean blinked several times trying to keep his tears in check and just nodded into his father's shoulder, not trusting his voice to be as steady as his resolve was.

Finally they broke apart and stepped away from each other a slightly awkward silence falling between them.

"I got your message," John said effectively breaking the awkward moment.

Dean just nodded. "I didn't know what else to do."

He turned back to look at Sam and missed the hurt look that crossed his Dad's face before John pushed his pain away and focused on the situation. "So what do you think it is?" he asked getting back to business. Just focus on the facts, Winchester. No need to get sloppy. He berated himself.

Dean just sighed heavily as he sat back down and threw his hands in the air in frustration. "That's just it. I don't have a clue. The only thing I do know is that Sam told me that an old woman was after him. Or at least something that looked like an old woman."

While Dean talked, John walked around to the other side of Sam's bed and was looking down at his son's pale and sweating face. He ran a hand through Sam's long hair and noticed how hot he felt. "And you thought that I might know what it was?" John asked looking back at Dean again.

Dean nodded. "Yes, sir, Sam keeps mumbling stuff. At first, I thought it was just the fever; but the same things kept popping up: an old woman, Jess…and you." Dean watched his father for some kind of recognition but only saw confusion cross his face.

"Did you find anything in my journal?" John asked trying to rack his memory for something but nothing was ringing any bells.

Dean just shook his head and they gave a kind of growl before standing up and started pacing around the room. "No. There's nothing in the journal, Bobby doesn't know anything, and I can't find anything that fits the M.O. I just thought…" Dean stopped and looked back at Sam watching as the ventilator pushed air in and out of his little brother's lungs. "I just thought that there had to be something," he finished with a sound of defeat.

He then lowered his head not wanting his Dad to see his weakness as hit bit his lip to keep his tears from coming. "I can't lose him, Dad," Dean said softly making John strain to hear him. "Especially not now." Dean finally looked up and saw the utter sadness in his Dad's eyes.

Dean just stared back letting his eyes communicate just how desperate he was before his father finally had to look away. After a moment, Dean too let his eyes drop feeling so alone even though the two people that he loved most in the world were in the same room as him. He then gave a small little snort of laughter before shaking his head in exasperation.

John looked up at him in confusion. "What?" he asked not understanding what his son was laughing at.

Dean looked up in mild surprise before looking slightly uncomfortable. "Oh, nothing, I was just thinking…Winchester luck strikes again," he said with a touch of irony in his voice. "It always seems something happens to screw up Sammy's birthday," Dean grumbled and John suddenly stopped.

"Wait, what?"

Dean just looked at his father in confusion. "What?"

"Dean, when did this start?" he asked urgency filling his voice as the inklings of an idea started to come to him.

Dean just blinked in confusion. "On-on Sam's birthday," he stammered not daring to hope that this might be a clue.

John's face paled slightly as he looked back down at Sam and Dean was quiet not wanting to interrupt his Dad's thoughts. "He has a really high fever, trouble breathing, and his muscles locked up at first, right?"

Dean felt lightheaded as he stared at his father in shock. "You do know what this is don't you?" he asked in slight awe.

Could it be? John just nodded and then grimaced. "But it can't be," he said as he shook his head.

"Dad," Dean said with desperation as he stepped towards his father gripping the edge of Sam's bed as he stared at his father over Sam's prone figure. "What is it?"

John just sighed and looked at Dean with sadness in his eyes. "Sam was right. It is an old woman after him. The only problem is…she's already dead."

Dean blinked once. "How do you know?" he finally asked.

John just looked at him with hard eyes as the memory came back to him in crystal clarity. "I killed her."

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A/N: Okay, there it is. Hope you guys liked it. So why not tell me by pressing the little button and sending me a review. I like reviews, they make all tingly inside. grin Until next time.