Twelve days after Thanksgiving, Elk Point was hit by the first major snow storm of the year. Dean's boss had called first thing in the morning and told him to stay home. "Nobody in their right mind would be out in this weather anyways," he had reasoned.

Sam paced around the living room while Dean sat on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He flipped through the TV channels and sighed. "You know, daytime TV sucks."

Sam gave a snort of disgust. "You don't think I know that? I'm the one who's been stuck in this house for the past few months." He moved to the window. He tried to stretch his back as he watched the snow fall.

Dean rolled his eyes. He hated it when Sam was in a grumpy mood. He went back to flipping through the channels.

"Will you stop that?" Sam snapped. "You're driving me nuts. Just pick something and stick with it."

Dean sighed and turned off the TV. "How about we play some cards? I'll even spot you."

Sam turned away from the window. "I don't know. I guess we could play a few hands. Poker?"

Dean nodded and grabbed a deck of cards and chips. He sat down at the table and began shuffling. He noticed that Sam was still standing by the window. "Are you playing or not?"

"Yeah, sure," Sam walked to the table, stretching his back again along the way.

Dean noticed his action. "Are you okay?"

Sam sighed as he sat down. "I don't know. I feel kind of weird. I can't put my finger on it."

"Are you sick?" Dean asked. "In pain? Do I need to call the doctor?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I'll be fine. I have a back ache that seems to come and go, but I'm sure that it's just because of how the baby is laying. As far as the 'weird' feeling, it's probably just the storm. You know, the change in air pressure and moisture."

"Well, if you're sure," Dean said. He threw a stack of chips towards Sam. "I'll spot you a hundred.

The hands moved quickly since it was just the two of them. After about a half hour, Sam threw his cards on the table. "I fold, and I'm done. My back is bothering me more, and now my stomach is beginning to ache."

"I'd better call the doctor," Dean tried to force back the concern that flared up.

"No, Dean, don't," Sam argued. "It's just the way I was sitting. I'm sure of it. The baby is putting pressure on the wrong nerves. I think that I'll go lay down. Maybe stretching out will ease it up."

"I really think I should call the doctor," Dean argued back. "It could be something serious."

Sam shook his head. "Come on, Dean. Don't you think I would know if it's something serious? Besides, if you call the doctor, he'll want to see me, and going out in this weather is dangerous. I don't want to risk it for what will end up being nothing."

"Okay," Dean acquiesced. "But if you're not feeling better when you get up, I'm calling the doctor. No arguments, deal?"

"Deal," Sam replied.

Sam went into his room and lay down. Dean grabbed the remote and plopped down on the couch. He absent-mindedly flipped through the TV channels. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Sam's condition than he was letting on.

Two hours later, Dean was sleeping on the couch, having fallen asleep watching a soap opera. He awoke with a start, unsure of what had woken him. He glanced around the living room and saw that everything was quiet. He had just settled his head on the throw pillow when he heard Sam's panicked voice calling his name. Dean bolted from the couch and through Sam's bedroom door.

"Sam? What is it?" The panic in Dean's voice matched Sam's.

Sam was curled in the fetal position. "It hurts, Dean."

Dean knelt next to the bed. "Where? Where does it hurt, Sammy?"

Fear shone from Sam's eyes. "I think I might be in labor."

"I'm calling the doctor." Dean grabbed his cell phone and began dialing.

"Do you think the office is open in this weather?" Sam questioned.

"I have no idea," Dean replied. "I'm calling his cell." He paused as the phone rang. "Damn, voicemail," he muttered and left a message. "Yeah, Dr. Forester, I need you to call me back right away. Sam's in labor."

Dean began dialing again. "I'm going to try the office. Who knows, maybe they are open. That could be why he's not answering his phone." Sam could tell that someone had answered because Dean started talking a mile a minute. "Yes, this is Dean Winchester. I need to speak to Dr. Forester immediately…Yes, it's an emergency!...It's my brother. He needs to see the doctor now! …Yes, yes, he has my number. Make sure he knows it's urgent! …okay, thank you, yes, okay, goodbye."

Dean looked at Sam. "Like we thought, the office is closed due to the weather. His answering service is going to get a hold of him, and he's going to call me back. Let's get you ready to go."

Dean helped Sam into a sitting position and helped put his shoes on. "On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain? The doctor will want to know."

Sam nodded. "It comes and goes. When it's at it's worst, it's and eight or eight and a half."

"That sure sounds like contractions," Dean said. "At least the coming and going part."

"No kidding Sherlock," Sam replied. "You don't think I…oh God, here comes another one." He grabbed Dean's hand and squeezed it as he tried to breath through the pain. He tried to remember what Dr. Forester had taught him about Lamaze. The doctor told him that it would help with the pain, but if this was "better", he'd hate to think what women went through before it was developed. The pain began to ease, and he loosened his grip on Dean's hand.

Dean shook his hand to get the blood moving again. "Are you okay?"

"For the moment," Sam answered.

Dean stood up and began pacing. "Why hasn't the doctor called back yet? What's taking so long? You need help now!"

"Maybe we should head to the clinic," Sam suggested.

Dean began dialing his phone again. "It won't do any good if he's not there." He then spoke into the phone. "Yes, it's Dean Winchester again. I'm still waiting to hear from the doctor. Did you tell him it was urgent? ...What do you mean you couldn't get a hold of him? …He went where? …When will he be back? …Can you keep trying to reach him? …Yes, I understand. Thank you." Dean disconnected the call. "For nothing," he mumbled.

"What?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "Apparently, Dr. Forester was called out to a pretty serious car accident north of town, and the answering service can't reach him either."

Sam started rambling questions. "What do you mean they can't reach him? How can they not reach him? Aren't they always supposed to be able to reach him? Did they call his cell? What about a pager? Does he have one? Have they tried it? What the hell is he doing going to an accident? Don't they have EMTs in this town? I can't believe this is happening. What are we going to do?"

"Who, slow down," Dean replied. "I don't know about a pager, and according to the woman at the answering service, she's tried his cell, but the area he's in is normally hit or miss with cell reception, but with this weather, it's almost impossible. She's going to keep trying, though."

"I hope she gets…" Sam gasped as another contraction hit.

Dean rubbed Sam's back and encouraged him to breath through the contraction. He never realized that time could crawl as slowly as it seemed to be right then.

Finally, the contraction subsided. "Dean, we have to do something," Sam said.

"I know. I know," Dean replied. He dialed his phone again. "Come on, come on, answer the phone," he muttered as he listened to the phone ring. He hung up as it switched to voicemail. He shook his head. "Damn it, voicemail again."

"Are you trying the doctor again?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head as he dialed another number. He continued his mumbling. "Please be there. Come on. Somebody has to…" His head shot up as the phone was answered. "Ellen! It's Dean."

Sam shook his head. "Dean, NO!"

Dean waved off Sam's protest. "I need your help. I don't know what to do. Sam's in labor, and we can't get a hold of the doctor…What do you mean 'Sam, who?' My brother, Sam…No, I'm not drunk! I'm serious…I know that, but how he got pregnant isn't important right now. I need to know how long we can wait for the doctor…Well, you're a woman, and you've had a baby. Don't you have some idea? …Don't yell at me. I've never been through something like this…Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry too. I'm just really worried…uhm, the contractions are, uhm, four, maybe five minutes

part…I wish…hang on a minute, I have another call."

Dean switched to the other call. "Hello…" Relief flooded his voice, as he continued. "Dr. Forester! Thank God. Sam's in labor…Yeah, they're about four minutes apart…Okay, we're leaving right now…See you there."

Dean reconnected with Ellen's call. "Ellen? …Yeah, that was the doctor. We're heading to the clinic now…Sure, I'll call you and let you know…Right, bye."

Dean turned back to Sam. "Okay, let's get going. It won't be long before you're a mother."

"Give me a minute," Sam groaned as another contraction started. "And it's father."

Dean laughed lightly. "Shut up and breathe."

After the contraction eased, Dean helped Sam to the car. Because of the weather, it took them more than twice as long to reach the doctor's office. The nurse was the only one there when they entered the clinic.

"Where's the doctor?" Dean demanded.

"He called a few minutes ago," the nurse replied. "The weather is holding him up. He wants me to prep Sam so that if it really is labor, he's ready to go immediately."

Sam changed into a hospital gown, and Dean helped get him settled in an exam room. The nurse took Sam's blood pressure and pulse. She placed her hands on his stomach and felt the abdominal muscles tighten as another contraction hit.

"That's definitely a contraction," The nurse said. "We need to get you on a monitor." She moved the fetal monitor next to the bed and started attaching the belts with the sensors. "Now, how far apart are the contractions?"

"They're about three minutes," Dean answered for Sam.

The nurse nodded. "And when did they start?"

Sam shook his head. "I'm not really sure. I was sleeping, and a contraction woke me up. So, I don't know if that was the first or not."

"But he hadn't been feeling well all day," Dean added.

Sam rolled his eyes. "It was just a back ache. It's not like I haven't had them before."

"But you said that you were feeling weird," Dean countered.

"This back ache," the nurse interrupted the building argument. "Was it steady or did it come and go?"

Sam thought for a moment. "I guess it came and went. Why?"

"They were 'back' contractions," the nurse answered. "You've probably been in labor all day."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, one of your books talked about that. I can't believe that you didn't make the connection."

Sam shook his head. "But it wasn't as intense as these contractions." Another contraction hit seemingly to punctuate his statement.

"Men!" The nurse laughed lightly. "The contractions in the early stages of labor aren't as intense. That grows as you move through the various stages of labor. I thought you were prepared for this."

Sam gave her a sheepish look. "I guess I'm not as ready as I thought I was."

The nurse laughed again. "Nobody is, not really, no matter how hard you try." She moved to the equipment cabinet. "I'm going to start an IV and then get everything set up in the surgical suite."

As the nurse went about her work, Dean moved closer to the table. "If you had let me call the doctor earlier, this would be over by now."

"So, you were right for once," Sam huffed. "Is that what you want to hear?"

Dean got very serious and looked Sam in the eyes. "I want to hear that you are going to be okay. You're the only family that I have left. I can't lose you."

Sam grabbed Dean's hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. "You're not going to lose me. We have taken every precaution that we could. I'm gonna be around a long time to pull you're butt out of hot water."

Dean tossed Sam's hand aside and smiled. "I don't need your help to get out of hot water."

Sam laughed. "Right, like you could've gotten…" A noise in the hall interrupted him.

The nurse taped down the IV canula as she looked towards the door. "It sounds like the doctor is finally here."

Sure enough, the doctor entered the room drying his hands. "So, how are we doing in here?"

The nurse handed him the chart. "He is definitely in labor, but his vital signs look good right now."

Dr. Forester looked at the chart and nodded. "Thank you, Gail. I picked up Dr. Winslow on the way in. He's in the surgical suite. Can you let him know that we are a go? I'm going to run a quick ultrasound before surgery."

The nurse nodded. "Sure, I'll be back in a few minutes." She then left the room.

"Who's Dr. Winslow?" Dean wanted to know.

Dr. Forester began setting up the ultrasound machine. "He's the local vet who…"

"A vet?" Dean exclaimed. "What the hell do you need a vet for? Is there something about the baby that you've been hiding?"

"If you'd let me finish," the doctor spoke with frustration. "I use him when I need an extra hand. He'll be handling the anesthetic. Don't let the word 'vet' throw you. He's very good at what he does, and, more importantly, he knows how to be discreet."

"If you trust him, I'm sure we can," Sam said. "Right, Dean?"

Dean shook his head. "I just think we should have been warned that another guy was…" A sudden gasp from Sam stopped him mid-sentence.

"Sam, what is it?" Dr. Forester asked.

"Sharp pain," Sam gasped as he tried to pull himself into a ball.

Dr. Forester ran the ultrasound wand over Sam's abdomen. "Damn!" He muttered under his breath.

"What? What's wrong?" Dean demanded.

"The placenta is tearing," The doctor answered.

Dean's stress level was rising. "What does that mean?"

"It means we need to get him into surgery now!" Dr. Forester replied as he quickly made his way to the door. He opened it and yelled down the hall. "Gail! Bill! I need you now! And bring the stretcher."

In a matter of seconds, Gail and a slightly graying man entered the room pushing a thin rolling table. "What's up, Brady?" Bill asked.

"We have a placental abruption," Dr. Forester replied. "We need to get him to surgery immediately."

Sam was quickly transferred to the stretcher and was wheeled out of the exam room. "Gail, set up a second IV. Bill, we don't have time for a spinal. So, use a general anesthetic. Let's kick it into high gear. I want to be cutting in ten."

"What can I do?" Dean asked.

"You can go to the waiting room and wait," the doctor replied.

"Is that it?" Dean continued.

The doctor nodded. "Unless you're a praying man, I'm afraid that's it. You could wait in here, but the waiting room would be more comfortable. Now I really have to go. I'll find you when it's over."

Dean went out to the waiting room. The chairs may have been more comfortable, but Dean would not know it because all he did was pace.

Bobby climbed into his car after completing a particularly taxing exorcism. He was saddened that the victim didn't survive, but that was the risk in any exorcism. Some demons seem to be harder on bodies than others. Bobby checked his phone. There was a missed call from Dean and three voicemail messages. One was from a buddy of his calling just to check on how things were going. Another was from an automated telemarketing firm trying to sell new windows for his home. The other message was from Ellen.

Bobby frowned as he listened to Ellen's higher pitch, fast talking message. "Hi, Bobby, it's Ellen. I need to talk to you. It's really important. I need you to call me as soon as you get this message." He dialed the familiar number wondering what was wrong.

Ellen answered after three rings. "Yeah, Ellen, it's me. I just got…"

Ellen interrupted him with her rambling. "Bobby! How could you not tell me about Sam? You knew that I was worried about those boys. I told you that I thought they were hiding something, and you kept their secret instead of putting my mind at ease. Although, I probably would have thought you were lying at first. How did he end up pregnant in the first place? I mean, it's just so unbelievable. When did you find out? I know that you knew. You spent Thanksgiving with them. It would've been hard to hide."

"Take a breath, Ellen," Bobby said. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, but it wasn't my place to. I've been trying to get Sam to tell you for months. I'm glad he finally did."

"Sam didn't tell me," Ellen interrupted. "Dean did."

"Dean did?' Bobby replied in confusion. "I thought he was taking his cues from Sam."

Ellen sighed heavily. "All I know is that Dean called me in a panic because Sam was in labor and he couldn't reach the doctor."

"Aww, hell," Bobby said. "That's why he called me. Damn, why didn't he leave a message? Did he say what they were going to do?"

"They finally got a hold of the doctor," Ellen answered. "Dean promised to call me to let me know what happened."

"That's it," Bobby responded. "I'm going to head down there. Call me if you hear from Dean."

"Come get me," Ellen ordered.

"Ellen," Bobby began. "You're kind of out of my way."

"You owe me, Bobby," Ellen growled into the phone. "So, come get me. I want to be there for those boys. They have no idea what they're in for."

"I owe you?" Bobby questioned incredulously. "How do you figure?"

"You kept Sam's secret," Ellen answered. "Now quit arguing with me and come and get me."

Bobby relented. "All right, I'll be there late this evening."

"I'll have a hot meal waiting for you," Ellen said. "And Bobby…thanks."

"Anytime Ellen," Bobby hung up from Ellen. He tried calling Dean, but now it was his turn to only get the voice mail.

Once Sam was under the effects of the anesthetic, Dr. Forester made the first incision. He spoke to the other two with him. "Bill, I want you to keep a close eye on his blood pressure. He's losing blood by the second. I don't want to complicate matters by him going into shock, but be prepared to jump in if I need an extra hand." He continued the surgery quickly. "I'm almost to the baby, Gail. You're going to have to care for him. I'm going to have my hands full with Sam. Damn…the bleeding's heavier than I had hoped. Gail, hang another unit of blood and another IV bag. He needs volume."

The nurse moved around to do as the doctor ordered. "We didn't have this trouble before. Are they going to make it?"

Dr. Forester shook his head slightly. "I certainly hope so. I'm ready to deliver, Gail. Is everything set up?"

"Yes, doctor," the nurse replied solemnly.

The doctor gently pulled the baby through the abdominal opening. It gave out a weak cry as Dr. Forester tied off and then cut the umbilical cord. He handed the baby to the nurse and turned his attention back to Sam. "Bill, I need some suction here. I can't see the tear."

The nurse took the baby over to the warmer. She quietly cooed. "Well, hello there, Jason. Welcome to the world." She frowned as she took the vitals. "Doctor," she called. "You'd better check the baby. His apgar is only a five."

Dr. Forester shook his head. "I can't right now. Put him on O2 and start an IV. Get me a crit and by all means, keep him warm. Bill, pull this back. I need a wider field. How's his pressure?"

Dr. Winslow glanced at the monitor. "It's slowly going down. You need to find the tear."

"I'm trying. Believe me. I'm trying," Dr. Forester muttered lowly. He carefully moved Sam's intestine to the side as he followed the remaining placenta to where it was attached. "There…finally…I found it."

"Brady, I really need you now," the nurse interrupted. "This is more than I can handle. I think we're losing him."

Dr. Forester and Dr. Winslow exchanged glances. "Bill, can you…"

An alarm sounded. "Damn…" Dr. Winslow exclaimed as he pressed some buttons on the various machines and adjusted the IV drips. "An arrhythmia…Brady, you have to hurry or we are going to lose him."

Dr. Forester cursed the fates that put him in this position. "Do the best you can, Gail. I'll be there as soon as I stop this bleeding. Bill, sutures…" He turned his attention back to Sam. He sutured the tear and carefully sealed it closed. "Damn, it wasn't just bleeding. We have intestinal fluid in the abdominal cavity. Get me some sterile saline to wash this with. I want an antibiotic added immediately to his IV. Hopefully, we can head off peritonitis." Once he cleaned the area the best he could, he asked. "Bill, can you close for me?"

"Sure," Dr. Winslow replied as he moved to take Dr. Forester's place.

"Don't bother," the nurse said in a choked voice. "We lost him."

Dr. Winslow quickly replaced Dr. Forester who ran to the warming bed while pulling off his bloody gloves. "New gloves!" He demanded. "Maybe we can revive him."

The nurse shook her head, tears shining in her eyes. "No, his vitals were in a steady decline from the moment he was born. Nothing I did changed the rate of decline. There's nothing more to be done. He's gone."

Dr. Forester double checked the vitals himself. "We can't just give up. Paddles…"

The nurse handed him the defibulating paddles. She knew he had to try. She watched him as he shocked the baby three times with no results. Placing a hand on his, she said. "It's over. You're just torturing the poor body. Let it go."

The doctor sighed heavily. "You're right." He then pronounced time of death.

Gail pulled off her own gloves. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more."

Dr. Forester shook his head. "I'm sorry too, Gail. I know you did everything possible. It just wasn't meant to be." The nurse turned away from him, fighting back her tears. The doctor continued. "I don't mean to pressure you, but I could really use your help with Sam."

"I'll get you some new gloves," The nurse said as she turned off the warmer.

The surgical suite was engulfed in a heavy quiet as they completed the surgery. Once they were done, they transferred Sam to a room that they used for overnight patients.

Dr. Winslow placed a hand on Dr. Forester's shoulder. "Brady, I'm sorry about the baby, but we are lucky that we didn't lose them both."

"Thanks, Bill," Dr. Forester sighed. "I know we're not supposed to get emotionally involved with our patients, but after working so closely with him over these past few months…well, he's going to be devastated. Look, I need to talk to Dean. I know he must be worried sick out there."

"And I should go clean up the baby," the nurse interjected. "Dean will probably want to see him."

The doctor nodded. "You're right. I'm sure he will. Bill, can you stay for a few more minutes to monitor Sam?"

"Sure, Brady," Dr. Winslow replied. "Anything I can do to help." He couldn't help but feel sorry for the two as they left the room to carry out their heart-wrenching tasks.

Dean paced around the waiting room, every so often stopping in front of the window to watch the storm. The snow continued to fall, but now the wind had picked up and was blowing the snow around causing drifts around his car and the hedges along the sidewalk. He glanced at his watch. Time seemed to be crawling. Bobby had tried calling a bit ago, but he couldn't bring himself to answer. He felt bad about ignoring the call, but he didn't want to field a bunch of questions that he didn't have the answers to.

Dean whirled around when he heard the door open. He could tell by the look on the doctor's face that it wasn't going to be good news. His own face blanched as he murmured. "Sam?"

Dr. Forester motioned towards the chairs. "Let's sit down."

Dean moved to the chair in a daze. "Is Sam alive?" He asked just above a whisper.

"Yes, he's alive," the doctor assured Dean. "But we did run into a complication."

"Other than the placenta thing?" Dean asked.

The doctor nodded. "Placental abruption… that was the main complication. The others were side affects from that."

"Like what?" Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know but couldn't stop himself from asking.

The doctor began to explain. "Well, because of the torn placenta, he had some pretty heavy internal bleeding. We had to give him blood during the surgery. Even with that, he started to go into shock and he developed an irregular heartbeat. Eventually, I was able to stop the bleeding, and we were able to stabilize him."

"So, he's going to be okay?" Dean asked hopefully.

"I don't know for sure." The doctor shook his head. "When the placenta tore away from the intestinal wall, it allowed intestinal liquids to seep into the abdominal cavity. The bacteria in that liquid can cause a serious infection."

Dean became alarmed. "Isn't there something you can do to stop it?"

The doctor shrugged slightly. "Well, I washed the abdominal cavity with saline before I closed the incision, and now he's on an antibiotic to hopefully prevent the infection, but there's no guarantee."

"I see," Dean replied.

The doctor sighed heavily. He placed his elbows on his knees and hand his hands over his face. "Dean, the placental abruption also caused a complication with the baby. I'm sorry, but he died a few minutes after birth."

Dean's eyes widened in shock. "The baby died? But how?"

The doctor shook his head again. "I won't know for sure until I get Sam's permission for an autopsy. My guess though would be damage caused by either blood loss or oxygen deprivation. Both would have been compromised by the torn placenta."

Dean cleared his throat. His voice was still gruff when he spoke. "Can I see him?"

"Which one?" The doctor responded. "Sam or the baby?"

"Both," Dean answered simply.

The doctor nodded. "Sam is still under sedation, but you can sit with him for a while. My nurse is cleaning up the baby. She'll come get you once she's done."

Dean also nodded and followed Dr. Forester to Sam's room. He couldn't believe how still and pale he was. Dean dragged a chair next to the bed. He fought his emotions. He needed to be strong for Sam. Finally, he said. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't know how you're going to deal with this, but I'm here for you."

The nurse re-entered the surgical suite and found a man in the room. "What the hell are you doing here?" She demanded.

The man turned to face her, cradling the baby in his arms. "What do you think? I'm here to get my son." Lifting the baby closer to his face, he said. "I think he has my nose. What'd you think?"

The nurse moved angrily across the room. "I think you're nuts! What is someone sees you here?"

The baby opened his eyes for a moment as the trickster readjusted his hold. Then the baby closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

The trickster shook his head at the nurse's concern. "Relax, I took care of the doctor when he worked on the baby, didn't I? He never even knew that he wasn't really shocking him. You have to remember what I'm capable of. No one will know that I was ever here."

The nurse shook her head. "I can't believe you actually talked me into this. I didn't think it would be this hard, but now that I've gotten to know Sam, well…"

"Well, you did agree," The trickster replied gruffly. "And I held up my end of the bargain. So, you'd better keep up yours."

"You promised me money," the nurse argued. "I haven't seen any yet. What about that?"

The trickster laughed. "Check the top drawer of your desk when you get home. You'll find a 236 million dollar winning lottery ticket. That should keep you comfortably secure for the rest of your life."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" The nurse asked.

The trickster gave her a pouting look. "Gail, I'm hurt. You don't trust me?"

Gail gave him an incredulous look. "Do you blame me? It's your whole purpose to fool people."

"Well, yeah, that is true," the trickster admitted. "But I made a bargain with you, and I always keep my bargains." Nodding towards the warming bed that held a lifeless body, he continued. "Now, there is a body for Sam to hold and grieve over, and the doctor can even autopsy it. It won't matter. For all concerned, it is Sam's baby. I'm going to take my son home."

The nurse suddenly felt apprehensive about letting him leave. "What about a doctor? A newborn needs to be examined. You want to make sure that he is healthy."

The trickster just smiled. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I have it under control." He headed towards the door. "It was a pleasure doing business with you."

The nurse whirled around. "Just one more thing," she said.

The trickster rolled his eyes and turned back to look at her. "What?"

"Why did you do this?" Gail asked. "Why did you impregnate Sam only to take his baby and make him think that it's dead?"

"Simple," the trickster shrugged. "It was fun."

"You have a warped sense of fun," the nurse sighed as he slipped out the door. She turned back to the bed and carefully washed and wrapped the body in a blanket. Hot tears escaped her eyes. They weren't for a baby that lived an extremely short life, because that wasn't the case. Her conscience was attacking her. When she made the deal, she didn't know Sam Winchester, and now, she was responsible for causing him the worst pain a parent could endure. She gently stroked the check of the baby and quietly spoke to the replacement. "I'm sorry, little one. Sorry that you won't be raised by such a loving, young man like Sam."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," the doctor's voice came from behind her.

The nurse whirled around, worried that her guilt showed on her face. "Dr. Forester, I didn't hear you come in."

The doctor saw the look of fear on her face but chalked it up to being startled. "I'm sorry, Gail. I wanted to let you know that Dean wanted to see the baby, but why don't I handle it? It's been a long day for you. Go home. Get some rest."

The nurse shook her head. "What about Sam? He needs to me monitored."

"I'll handle it," the doctor replied. "You've done more than enough for today."

"Okay," the nurse answered. She knew that the doctor didn't understand her feelings, but she wanted to get away from the office. She couldn't handle the guilt. Lying, she continued. "Thank you for being understanding." She grabbed her coat and purse and left the clinic.