Chapter 4

Beeeeeeeeeppppp…

Everything in Dean clenched with fear as the heart monitor shrieked out Stella's flat-line. The door to her hospital room burst open and a doctor he didn't recognize came charging in, a nurse right on her heels. She raced to Stella's side, shoving Dean out of the way.

"STELLA!" Bobby and Sam grabbed Dean and pulled him back more, giving the doctor more room to work.

"She's coding! Ellen!"

"I'm right behind you," shouted the nurse. Right behind the nurse several others poured through the door. One was pushing a portable defibrillator. The last nurse in turned towards Sam, Dean, and Bobby and herded them out of the room like she was cutting cattle on a ranch. She slammed the door in their faces and all three stood in the hall, waiting. Dean pressed his hands to his head and then whirled, slamming his palms on the wall as hard has he could. He was utterly helpless and he despised feeling that way.

Voices carried out into the hall.

"Charging… Clear!"

THUMP.

"No pulse, Doctor."

"Again… Clear!"

THUMP.

"Still nothing!"

"We're going again. Charging…"

Dean whispered her name, and Sam pulled him into a hug, not knowing what else to do. He felt Dean's shoulders shake as the tears started. Sam, tears running down his own cheeks, looked over at Bobby who looked just as pale and frightened as they did.

"… CLEAR!"

THUMP.

"We have a rhythm! She's back!"

The doctor came out of the room and slung her stethoscope around her neck. "She's okay for now," the doctor said.

"For now?" Dean was careful to keep his voice low but he wanted to shout at the doctor. What do you mean 'for now?' I just want you to make her better. Fix her…!

"We're going to need to keep a very close eye on her. Hopefully there will be no more incidents like this one. I'll make sure Dr. Polanco gives you a more detailed update when he comes in, after we've had time to evaluate her monitor and her test results."

"Can we go back in?" asked Sam.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, but please stay very quiet and very calm. Patients, even when they're unconscious, can be influenced by the people around them. If you're upset in there, she'll be upset. And it is best that she be as calm as possible right now." The doctor gave them one last nod and headed down the hall to see other patients.

Dean's eyes were wide, his fear for Stella still coursing through him, and abruptly said, "I gotta… I gotta… I'll be back. Don't let anything happen to her." He glanced at Stella's room and walked down the hall without another word.

"I'll stay with Stella," Bobby said to Sam. "You go keep an eye on your brother."

Sam nodded in agreement and slowly started to follow Dean. His brother walked the halls of the hospital for a few minutes and finally found his way to the small chapel. Dean stood at the open door for a second, considering, before he finally went in and sat down. There was a small stand at the front and above it a circular stained glass window. The window had a simple symmetrical, nondenominational design in it. There was a row of benches where people could sit and kneel and flanking it were rows of chairs on either side. He picked a bench about half-way down.

Dean was sitting on a bench when Sam glanced in. His arms were on the back of the bench in front of him and he was resting his head on his hands. Sam stepped back quietly, giving Dean some privacy. He knew his brother wasn't much of a praying man despite everything they knew about angels and demons, so this was something Sam knew Dean wouldn't want anyone intruding on.

Don't let her die. Don't let her die. Don't let her die. Please don't let Stella die. Dean repeated the mantra over and over in his head, hoping that some benevolent being, God, an angel, anything, would hear and maybe take pity on him.

Finally, he sat back in silence. Dean remembered that day in the ramshackle town when he'd watched Jake drive a hunting knife into Sam's back, severing his spine. He'd watched the light go out of Sam's eyes as he fell to his knees. And he remembered the dead weight of Sam's body in his arms and the sticky blood on his hands. He'd sold his own soul to bring Sam back and spent four mortal months – but more like 40 years – being tortured in Hell.

Clear. Thump. Clear. Thump. The sounds of the defibrillator echoed in his head. What if Stella died? What would he do? Would he sell his soul again? Would Sam… or Stella… ever forgive him if he did? He shook his head and tried to drive the dark thoughts away. Stella's still alive, you ass, he thought to himself. Stop acting like she's already dead.

Sam knocked on the chapel door and Dean jumped to his feet. "Stella? Sam, is she okay?"

"She's fine. She's fine. I came to see how you're doing?" He sat down next to Dean.

"I'm scared, Sam. I'm really scared. You know, me and Stella, it started out simple. Share a few nights, nothing wrong with that. But I fell in love with her. I didn't mean to, Sam… the way we live? It's so complicated. But I couldn't help it; I just couldn't help it. And now I just… the thought of…"

"I know, Dean. I know." Sam still remembered all too clearly how much he'd loved Jessica. The sun rose and set on her, and it had been so easy to imagine a long and happy life together. He knew exactly how Dean felt, and he prayed to God that Dean would never know what it felt like to lose the woman he loved.

"Sammy, I can't lose her…"

"Dean, Stella's fighter. She's a hunter like us and tough as they come. She's not going anywhere. Not without a fight."

"Yea, yea, you're right. She is a fighter." Dean nodded slowly, considering his brother's words and then, abruptly, he stood. "I need to be with Stella."

The brothers left the little chapel together and walked back towards Stella's room. Dean was practically stumbling because he was so tired. It was 3:00 in the morning. Before they went into Stella's room, Sam said, "There's a motel a couple blocks over. I assume you want to take the first shift here?"

Dean nodded. "You guys go. I'll stay."

"Okay. Bobby and I will get some sleep and come back in a few hours."

Inside the room, there was a pillow and a blanket on one of the chairs. Bobby had gone rummaging around while Dean had been at the chapel. "It won't be much of a bed, but if you pull the other chair over, you might get a little sleep," said Bobby.

Dean thanked them and, once Sam and Bobby left, he turned the main light out and sat in the chair right next to her bed. The monitor continued its steady beep-beep-beep (which Dean no longer found annoying). He ran his fingers gently on her arm, being careful not to bump any of the IV connections.

"You scared me, Stella," he said softly. "I know I've always said I love it when you make my heart race, but this isn't what I had in mind. Just that heart stopping thing, do me a favor and don't do that again; I don't think my heart can take it. And I don't want to test yours." He kept rubbing her arm and he kept talking. "You know when I was just talking to Sammy I said our relationship started simple. I don't know if that's all true. Everything's been complicated for us, complicated and simple. I'm not making much damn sense any more…"

He laughed softly and took her hand in his. "Sam told his story about meeting you for the first time. Well, I sure remember the first time that I saw you…"

The hustle hadn't quite gone the way Sam and Dean planned. They were both heading towards the bar door, hoping to get out before the bikers they'd just conned completely figured out what had happened. If not, things were going to get ugly really fast. Behind them, voices started to rise, get angrier, and the Winchesters put a little hustle in their step.

They got out the door and part way to the car when Dean stopped abruptly, nearly making Sam run into him. There was a woman leaning against his Impala. It was late, past eleven, but the lights in the parking lot made it easy to see her. Her hair and eyes were dark, and she had a small, quirky smile on her face, like she knew a secret that Dean didn't… Dean felt his pulse quicken when he looked at her; a definite fox by his definition and a stone-cold one at that. She had low-cut, denim hip-huggers and her baby-doll t-shirt didn't quite reach the top of the jeans, showing a tantalizing strip of skin at her waist.

"Hi, Sam," she said. She had a low, delicious voice.

Hi Sam? Sam knew her? Dean was going to have to have a serious discussion with his brother. Sam had clearly been holding out on him.

The voices in the bar became louder and angrier.

"Gotta catch up later." Sam glanced over his shoulder. "We're in a hurry." He shoved Dean forward a little.

"Don't get all hot and bothered," she said as she started walking away from the Impala. Was that a slight hit of a Southern accent that Dean could hear? "The super glue in the bikes' ignitions will keep them grounded long enough for you boys to clear out. I can show you a motel you can hole up in where they won't find you… if you think you can keep up."

For the moment all of Dean's attention was on the motion of her hips and the very, very appealing shape of her backside. Suddenly, as her car engine growled, he noticed the Camaro for the first time. Dust churned as she pulled out and Dean heard some familiar lyrics: "… wasn't me she was foolin'… 'cause she knew what she was doin' when she told me how to walk this way … she told me to walk this way … talk this way …"

"A '69 Camaro AND she's listening to Aerosmith? Dude… " Dean had an enormous grin on his face.

"Uh, Dean?" Sam glanced nervously at the bar door. In the past few moments two of the bikers had come out and now that Stella's exit was no longer distracting them, they were both staring at the Winchesters.

"There they are!" shouted one. The other shouted back into the bar. Dean and Sam looked at each other and leaped into the Impala. Everything was about to go to Hell in a hand basket. A knot of angry bikers boiled out of the bar, pointing and shouting at them. The Impala roared to life and Dean floored it, spraying dirt and gravel back at their pursuers. Sam twisted in his seat and looked out the rear window.

"Looks like the super glue worked. They're not going anywhere. They look PISSED." He laughed. Dean was focused on the Camaro's tail lights about a half-mile ahead of him on the straightaway.

"Who is she, Sam?"

Sam looked over at Dean and smiled. "What?" He put on his best innocent school-boy face. Dean didn't buy it.

"Spill it, Sam. Who's the hottie in the Camaro? Did you hit that? Did you hit that and not tell me? How could you not tell me?" The tail lights were much closer now; Dean could just about see the license plate.

"Hit that? No, I didn't hit that, Dean. THAT was Stella Bodine." Sam was laughing as he said it. He'd known his brother would be totally into Stella the moment he saw her, and he was right. Sam could see it in Dean's eyes. Suddenly, the Camaro accelerated and pulled away. Dean smiled; a little game cat and mouse? He was down to play. Sam smiled and braced himself as Dean stepped on the gas so he wouldn't lose sight of the Camaro's tail lights.

Dean came out of the memory with a smile on his lips. He leaned a little closer to Stella. He kissed her gently on the forehead and whispered in her ear. It was an endearment he'd used the first time he'd told Stella he loved her, and – if he was being honest - he'd felt a little goofy when he first said it. But the way Stella had looked at him after? No woman had ever looked at him like that before and he wanted Stella to look at him that way forever. Now it was his secret endearment, one he whispered to her in their most intimate moments.

"Starlight, starbright, you're the only star I see tonight… "

Well, hope you're enjoying so far. My next couple chapters are mostly done but I still have some holes to fill. After that, everything's really in outline form, so I don't think I'll be keeping up with my "chapter a day" pace for much longer. But I promise I'll update as frequently as I can.

So, thank you to everyone who has read this so far and to those who have left reviews, I do appreciate that. I hope the story continues to meet your expectations!