Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter of this fic!

Enjoy!

A minute later the nurse brought John back into the treatment room, and at the entrance to the room he was met by the doctor.

"How's my boy? Is he okay now?" John asked worriedly.

"Hello, sir, I'm Dr Cole. Dean's doing much better now, his heart rate's down and his saturations are much better. I think that today's incident was a panic attack, so physically he should be alright, but usually when someone has a severe panic attack like I just witnessed with Dean, something is causing it. Do you have any idea what that might be?"

John knew exactly what the doctor meant, he'd been worried that something like this would happen, he should've made Dean talk to him more, maybe he could've stopped this. "Can I talk to you outside, doc?"

"Of course." The doctor replied, leading John into the hallway.

"Dean's brother, Sam, he died three days ago, it was... he was left brain, brain dead." John choked out, despite his hard shell, he was still being torn apart by the fact that he would never see his baby boy anymore.

"Oh my..." Dr Cole began. "I'm so sorry for your loss, I can't begin to imagine how difficult this must be for you, and for Dean as well."
John hesitated a moment before telling the doctor. "It's more than that. Sam was an organ donor, Dean's new heart... Sam, Dean..."

The doctor took a moment to catch on. "Um ...oh, OH. Oh dear sweet lord."

"I know, and I really wish things were different, but... There wasn't any other choice."

"Okay, well obviously the past week has been very rough on yourself and Dean, I've already paged the on call psychiatrist, and they should be down shortly to talk with you and Dean. Hopefully they'll be able to help." Dr Cole said, feeling more than a little out of his depth, and just wanting to get away, now.

Two and a half hours later, and the psychiatric physician finally showed up in the emergency department to see Dean, and after being briefed by a still uneasy Dr Cole, the senior psychiatrist, Dr Ross walked into Dean's room.

"Hello, Dean. I'm Dr Ross, from psychiatry, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, I had an emergency. You mind if your dad steps out for a while so we can talk?"

Dean glanced nervously between his father and the doctor. "I... I don't..." He stammered, but after a moment he said. "Okay, I guess."

"I'll be right outside, kiddo." John promised as he made his way out of the room, only to hover on the other side of the door.

As John left the room, Dr Ross sat down in the seat John had vacated at Dean's side, and attentively listening, ready for the answers that Dean may give, he asked. "We're a bit worried about you, Dean. What you've been feeling, it must be quite difficult. Do you want to tell me how this happened?"

Dean took a shaky breath, before he complied. "A year back, I got sick. The doctors back then said that it was an infection I'd picked up after having some work done to my teeth, and it went to my heart. They gave me a bunch of drugs, and for a while they worked, but then I got worse, landed myself in hospital, after that things get kind of blurry, next thing I know, my dad was telling me that I'd gotten a... a new heart, from" Dean still struggled to say it, he hit his head back against the back of the raised bed in frustration before continuing "from Sammy."

The doctor nodded thoughtfully, taking in everything his patient was telling him, after a brief pause, he asked. "Sammy, that's your younger brother, correct?"

Dean looked down at the bedspread, picking at a loose thread as he replied. "Yeah, he was."
"Can you tell me about him? Were you close?"

Dean paused, a pained smile gracing his expression, lost in a memory. He looked up at the doctor, looking him directly in the eye as he said. "He was my baby brother. Our mom died when I was a kid, and it was just the three of us, we moved around a lot, so we never had friends, he was everything to me ...I would've died... I would've died for him." Dean paused for a minute, trying to maintain the speck of composure he had left. "He was so smart, got into Stanford on a full scholarship, he had a future, and now he's dead, and it's..." Dean trailed off, fighting against the pain that threatened to consume him. He failed. "It's not freakin' fair!" Dean screamed out. "He's gone, and I'm still here, and it's not fair..." Dean turned his head away from the doctor, tears blurring his vision. "It's not fair."

Dr Ross remained silent, he knew from experience that right now, this young man before him, he didn't need to hear empty platitudes, he just needed to get things off his chest, to grieve.

"It wasn't supposed to work out this way, Sam was meant to live his life, and I was meant to die. Instead he gets beaten to death trying to save a kid's life, and I wake up with his heart beating inside me. It's fucked up, and... I don't know how to deal with it. How is anything ever supposed to be normal again?"

"It may seem impossible at the moment, Dean, but with time, and probably some counseling I think you can get past this." Dr Ross said reassuringly

"Get past this?! What do you mean get past this!?! How the hell am I meant to get past this!? My baby brother is dead, he's dead, and you've lost your mind if you think I can ever be okay with that." Dean screamed, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't intend to upset you, I simply meant that I want to work with you, to help you grieve, and to help you get your life back together." Dr Ross said apologetically, he then told Dean. "I have to go back upstairs now, but what I want to do, is to make an appointment to speak with you in a couple of days, in my office. And I'll prescribe you something to help you get some real sleep, and to help with the panic attacks, try to get you feeling a bit more human. How's that sound?"

TBC...

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