Chapter Eight

Dean bolted ahead of the male nurse, Bobby trotting after him, in his rush to get to Sam's room.

He flung open the door and stopped on the threshold. Sam was awake. He was sitting up, looking at Dr. Munroe as she spoke to him.

The female doctor turned her attention to the doorway and smiled at Dean and Bobby who was peering over the younger man's shoulder.

"Your brother's fever has gone down considerably," the doctor informed them.

Dean stepped into the room, eyes glued to his baby brother. Sam looked okay. He was still pale but other than that he seemed to know where he was and everything. That was good, right?

"How're you feeling, Sammy?"

The young man peered at his brother, "Hey, Dean."

The eldest Winchester sagged with relief. Stepping up to the bed, Dean gave Sam's shoulder a comforting squeeze, "You okay?"

"Tired," Sam admitted. Dean peered into his brother's face. His normally bright green eyes were dark, almost black, and ringed with purple shadows. He must be exhausted.

"I want to take Sam down and do some tests," Dr. Munroe spoke up, "Just to make sure the fever didn't cause any damage."

"Okay," Dean said, "You up for that, Sammy?"

His brother nodded, "If it'll get me out of here faster, I say go for it."

The male nurse who had followed them from the cafeteria entered the room, pushing a wheelchair ahead of him.

Once Sam was sitting in the chair, the nurse and Dr. Munroe left the room, the latter assuring Dean that his brother would be back in a couple of hours.

SPN

Dean! Sam cried out silently as the wheelchair bumped over the door's threshold and the young man lost sight of his brother.

Sam had been so happy to see his brother. Dean would be able to help him! But when Sam had tried to speak, no words had come through. The dark entity had him effectively muzzled. Sam wanted to scream as loud as he could but he was unable to even let out the quietest whimper.

"Do you think I'll be able to go home soon?" The dark entity spoke, using Sam's voice.

The doctor looked down at Sam and the young man tried to tell her something was wrong, even if it was only with his facial expression.

"If all of the tests come back negative and your fever stays down there's no reason why you shouldn't be able to," the woman told him, "Actually, the fact that we are having this conversation right now is a very good sign that you are one very lucky young man."

Sam felt the dark entity move his lips into a smile and he shrank back, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get through to the doctor at least. He would save his strength and try to contact Dean when the doctor took him back to his room.

SPN

Dean sat down on the edge of Sam's vacated hospital bed, relief seeping through his veins.

"Sometimes you Winchesters get lucky," Bobby commented as he sat down on the visitor's chair.

"Yeah," Dean muttered. He couldn't believe how close he'd come to losing his brother- or, if not that, having Sam changed forever- and he raised a shaky hand to cover his eyes.

"Dean? You alright son?" Bobby asked, his tone concerned.

"I was just so sure that Sam wasn't going to make it," Dean murmured, "And it would have been my fault."

Bobby grunted but said nothing against Dean continued feelings of guilt.

"Hope for the best but expect the worst," he told Dean instead, "That's what you Winchesters do best."

Lowering his hand and lifting his eyes, the young man looked to his friend, "How long do you think we'll have to stay here?"

Bobby shrugged, "Probably a day or two."

Dean sighed. He hated hospitals and he knew Sam did as well. Dean just prayed that the fever had not caused any lasting damage and he and Sam would be able to leave soon.

W

Two and a half hours later Dean looked up from the boat and fishing magazine he was reading when he heard the unmistakable squeak of a wheelchair approaching the room.

Dr. Munroe looked quite satisfied with herself and Sam gave his brother a tired smile upon seeing him.

"Some of the test results take time to come back but overall Sam did very well," the doctor informed them confidently, "It doesn't look like there is any damage from the fever at all."

Dr. Munroe parked the wheelchair beside the bed and helped Sam up. Once the youngest Winchester was settled in bed, the doctor left the room, taking the wheelchair with her.

Dean wanted to talk to his brother, ask Sam for himself if he was okay, but his sibling closed his eyes and was asleep within moments.

"C'mon son," Bobby touched Dean's shoulder, "I could use a coffee."

The older brother followed his friend down to the cafeteria, relaxed at last for the first time since he'd seen Sam sprawled out on the floor of the motel room, barely conscious and burning up with fever.

SPN

Sam was terrified. He sheltered in a far corner of his mind, trying to hide from the dark entity.

It knew where he was though, of course it did, the entity had reached its tentacles into every recess of Sam's mind, leaving nothing untouched.

Please help me, Dean.

Sam could feel the dark entity sifting through his mind, reading his memories and he was completely unable to do anything to stop it.

Get out! Dean! Dean! Where are you? Help me!

Sam's eyes were closed. He couldn't even see the room he was in. Sam knew that Dean was gone though, he couldn't hear him.

Sam wanted to cry, he wanted to scream but he could not open his mouth. He wanted to tell Dean about the dark entity but he couldn't even open his eyes.

Dean… please come back… please… help me. Stop this.

SPN

Dean sighed, swallowing a mouthful of hot, fresh coffee. He needed the caffeine.

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked, hands wrapped around his own cup of coffee.

"Just… glad that Sammy's going to be okay," Dean muttered, "I mean, so far Doc Munroe says he should be."

Bobby's expression softened but he didn't say anything.

"Okay, I'm ready to get back," Dean stood and stretched, grabbing his coffee off the table.

Bobby followed the younger man, knowing that he wouldn't be able to keep Dean from his brother for too long.

The two hunters rode the elevator up to Sam's floor and stepped off into the hallway. Dean wound his way through nurses and patients, completely intent on his destination. He pushed the door to his brother's room open and his shoulders sank even lower with relief. Sam was still alright. He was just sleeping. Dean could see his chest rise and fall with each breath.

Dean crossed the room and sat down on one of the chairs reserved for visitor's and, sitting his coffee aside, laid his hand on Sam's own.

Sam didn't stir but that was okay, Dean knew he was going to be alright.

Bobby sat down beside his young friend and took a sip of coffee.

"Everything will turn out," Bobby muttered, almost to softly to hear but Dean nodded.

"You'll be fine, Sammy," Dean murmured comfortingly to his sleeping sibling.

"I'll protect you."

Author's Note:

1. Thanks to yukio87, BranchSuper, Mutilated Pancake, SPN Mum, 3deliveryfan, Jkf340, L.A.H.H, InsertUnoriginalPenNameHere, citrusbitrus, sammynanci, SamDeanLover28, , and mandancie for reviewing.

2. Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed and favourited.

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