Disclaimer: refer to chapter one

NOTE TO READERS: Thanks for the reviews and PM's, they are all appreciated! This past week has been insane for me, but I managed to get a chapter written for all of you. It's around 5 ½ pages long. I still have more chapters planned that still need to be written, but I'll get there. Slow and steady might not win the race but at least you get to the finish line. I will try to post another chapter next weekend at some point.

Happy Reading, I hope!

So Long, Good-Bye

Chapter Eleven: Memories like Sand

By Dawn Nyberg

"Never really said too much afraid it wouldn't be enough. Just try to keep my spirits up when there's no point in grieving. Doesn't matter anyway words could never make me stay words will never take my place when you know I'm leaving … try to leave a light on when I'm gone, something I rely on to get home, one I can feel at night, a naked light, a fire to keep me warm …" lyric excerpt by David Cook, Light

June 10, 2006, Bobby's place

"Dean," Valerie spoke softly. "It'll pass, okay?" she tried to assure Dean that his brother would recognize him when he woke up from the mild sedative Dr. Finley had prescribed since the episodes of disorientation had increased over the last couple days. It had been just a little over a week since Dean had had the conversation with Sam about not wanting him to go to a hospice any sooner than needed and it seemed each week there was something else to cope with for Sam and the entire family.

"He looked at me and didn't know me Val," Dean looked at his sleeping brother. "He was calling out for me and he didn't know me, my voice when I tried to tell him I was there."

"Dean, he was disorientated," she assured. "The episodes may get worse, lessen or stay about the same, it's a horrible thing but just know that on some level he knows you, okay?" Dean nodded. Sam had hallucinated one or twice over the last week and he was difficult to control and was quickly sedated before he hurt himself. A few slurred and garbled words would make it past his lips on occasion when he hallucinated about demons and ghosts and Dean, John and Bobby had just said he had been into mythology and lore and was a horror movie watcher. Valerie had heard patients say a lot of strange things when they hallucinated; she had assured the family that she wasn't put off by Sam's hallucinations.

"D'n," the slur was thick but the word, the meaning unmistakable. Dean looked at his brother and Sam had turned his head and although his eyes weren't on him he knew his little brother knew he was there. Dean smiled and Valerie gave a soft smile.

"Hey, little brother, how ya feeling? Have a good nap?"

"K," Sam offered as best as he could.

"Hey, Sammy, I thought you might like to go outside again and get some fresh air and sun," Dean grinned when Sam managed to meet his eyes for a moment and nodded. "Okay, kiddo," Valerie stepped forward to help get Sam in his wheelchair. The bed hoist was a big help and reduced a lot of stress for Sam in the transferring process. "Thanks, Val," Dean replied with a genuine smile.

Dean sat next to his brother on the porch. He had picked his brother up and put him in a regular chair not wanting Sam to sit in his wheelchair the entire time. Dean's mind rolled through many thoughts as he sat with his brother. He knew the symptoms were getting worse but he also knew that the symptoms themselves weren't going to take his brother from him but it was the condition itself made his little brother susceptible to infections and other complications, so if they avoided all of that there was still time to save him, so he tried to keep that thought at the forefront.

"Feels good out here, huh?" Dean reached over and patted his brother's leg.

"Mmm," Sam replied with a contented look on his face. Dean took comfort in that and was happy that his sibling could still find something pleasurable. The screen door creaked behind them as it opened and Dean looked up.

"Hey Boys," John's voice was light. "How ya doin' today kiddo?" He asked Sam as he rested a hand on his son's head and allowed the soft chestnut strands to move through his fingers. Sam offered up a small dimpled smile. "That good, eh?" John replied and lifted his hand and sat down. "I hope you boys don't mind a little company…"

"K," Sam forced out. John nodded. Dean didn't bring up the lead anymore but he had overheard his father on the phone late the previous evening with Cole and he knew something was brewing but his father hadn't indicated he was leaving, yet, but the signs were there or at least Dean thought they were but he was afraid to ask and decided to wait until his father said something.

Two Days Later

Dean looked up as Valerie walked into the kitchen. "Dean, I need to call Dr. Finley about Sam."

"What's wrong?" Dean's brow creased in concern. Sam had been okay he thought. Quiet the last day or two but okay.

"Margaret mentioned to me that she noticed him grimacing in his sleep the other night but he didn't wake up and she thought it might have been a nightmare…"

"And…"

"He's having painful urination again…" Valerie offered. "I also think he's having some lower back discomfort, as well.

"Another UTI?" Dean questioned. He noticed the small bit of tension in Valerie's eyes that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. "What?"

"He has started running a low grade fever and I just changed him and there was some evidence of blood in his urine." Dean felt his world collapse inward.

"Oh God," his eyes darted down the hallway. "I'll call an ambulance," he started to turn to get the phone and his brother help. Valerie placed a calm hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

"911 isn't necessary Dean. I'll call Dr. Finley, I'm sure he'll send a transport unit and will admit Sam to the hospital for a few days. I think he may have developed a kidney infection but the doctor will do some tests to make sure. Let me call him. Sam isn't in immediate danger this very moment but if Dr. Finley wants an ambulance we'll get Sam whatever he needs but there's no need to get him all worked up with paramedics rushing around," she reasoned. Dean nodded. "Go sit with Sam and I'll call the doctor, okay?" Dean didn't have to have her say it twice he went to his brother without further preamble.

Two Days Later, Greene Memorial Hospital, 3 NE Unit

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" John looked over at his oldest son. They had been sitting with Sam in his hospital room but his youngest was sound asleep.

"Look, I wasn't going to ask but…" Dean hedged.

"Cole is zeroing in on a location, okay? Once he finds what I'm looking for, he'll call and meet there," John didn't elaborate further.

"Dad, what is it?" Dean needed answers … this was Sammy, his brother's life.

"Dean, I'd tell you I would, but this was something Cole mentioned, something he believes exists, but if this possible lead does exist their kind keep a low profile once they come of age apparently, but no hunter has ever encountered one …"

"Sp whatever this is … if no hunter has ever encountered this," Dean left it hanging for a moment and started again, "this thing, person, whatever … then why do these whatever's keep a low profile?" John couldn't help but allow a mild grin cross his face. His first born was tenacious and sharp.

"Let's just say that the supernatural world apparently doesn't like their kind, if they exist and are hunted, and killed." Dean looked at his father with confusion.

"Killed, by what? I mean if the supernatural world wants to hunt them then you're saying evil wants them dead and what? Good, too."

"Look if they exist," John wanted to end this conversation before Dean latched on too tightly just in case it was another dead end. "They are considered an abomination, okay? Leave it at that son, I'll tell you more when I can but not before, alright?"

Dean sighed and nodded. He let it drop for now. He turned his eyes back to Sam and was glad that the fever flush of the last couple days had finally gone away and that the antibiotic IV therapy was working toward clearing up his brother's kidney infection.

A voice cleared itself at the doorway and John and Dean both looked up. "Hello men, I thought I'd stop by on my afternoon rounds."

"Hey, doc," Dean said with a small smile. "Sammy's still sleeping."

"I don't need to wake him. I saw him earlier and his latest test results are showing some improvement regarding the acute pyelonephritis," he smiled and readjusted his wording, "sorry, I meant his kidney infection. Due to Sam's PSP diagnosis, I'd like to err on the side of caution with the IV therapy. As I stated when he was admitted the Cipro IV therapy usually lasted 7-14 days, I'd like to keep him on the full 14 day course."

"Whatever, Sammy needs Doc, I just want him well and to take him home." The doctor nodded.

"He is responding to the therapy and I expect him to be able to return home when the IV therapy is complete."

"Thanks doc."

"Dr. Finley," John kept his voice low as not to wake Sam. "You mentioned that my son's infection was acute and not chronic, and that it was a positive thing that it was acute, but I've been reading the literature and is it possible that his condition could become chronic?"

"John," the doctor began tentatively. "With PSP patients it's always a possibility but he is responding to the therapy and right now his condition is of an acute nature which is treatable and good news for Sam because I don't see this as a life threatening episode. Sam is more prone to infections now with this disease but so far we are managing them and he is tolerating things as well as can be expected. I understand the home physical therapy visits have helped a lot with his restless legs at night and the cramping. Valerie and Margaret both forward copies of their care and progress notes to me."

"It does appear to help," John offered. "Is there more we could do for him?"

"John," Dr. Finley smiled. "You, Dean and Bobby have been wonderful with Sam and there isn't anything more to do. You get him outside, he has therapy, and you keep him stimulated with music and conversation. I know that TV shows and movies on TV have begun to be too difficult for him to watch and the stimulus is a bit over loading to him, but Valerie sings your praises … she says you're all great with him."

"Dean keeps on top of things," John smiled at his oldest son. "He's always been there for Sammy and for me." Dean dropped his eyes in embarrassment at the impromptu praise from his father.

Sam stirred and all eyes turned to him. "Hey, Sammy," Dean smiled. "You feelin' okay? Any pain?"

Sam shook his head as his eyes roamed around the room. "Nnn…Nnnnoooo."

"Good," Dean assured. "Hey, look who came to see ya Sammy, the doc is here."

"Hi Sam, just checking in and things are looking good. You'll be back home in a few days, okay?" Sam offered a small lopsided smile and a small amount of drool slipped out as he spoke.

"Gggg…Goooood." The word slurred and seemed to stretch out but he made himself understood. Dean reached up gently with a moist cloth and wiped the drool away and dried the wetness with a dry corner from the cloth.

Later that night John had returned to Bobby's to make phone calls and Dean had stretched out on the chair that reclined to a small bed. He fluffed the flat hospital pillow and pulled the blanket over his chest. He was glad that although the room had a bed for another patient that right now Sam didn't have to share with another person. Dean looked over at his brother in pale light from the hallway and the small amount of moonlight that crept in through the pulled shades. Sam looked so much younger than his twenty-three years. Dean felt his throat constrict in emotion. He felt compelled to touch his brother and crawled quietly out of his makeshift bed and approached his sibling's bedside.

He reached down and gently brushed the long chestnut bangs from Sam's forehead. It was a soothing action he'd done for Sam when he was still little. The emotions bubbled once again and he couldn't find a voice, so he merely smiled down at his brother, his eyes welled and a single tear ran unchecked down his cheek. He took a breath, and spoke quietly. "Sweet dreams Sammy, I'm here, okay?" His voice was quiet but even in sleep Sam sighed and turned into his big brother's touch.

Dean returned to his makeshift bed and watched his brother in the pale light until sleep claimed him. His only thought; his only focus, you can't go, Sammy.

To Be Continued