The next morning, Dean woke with a crick in his neck. He stood up and stretched. He grimaced as he tried to work the kinks out of his tired muscles. He had yet to find a chair that was comfortable to sleep in. He looked at his brother. Sam was still asleep. The doctor had purposely kept him sedated throughout the night. Dean was relieved to see that his color seemed better and that he seemed to be resting easier.

Dean turned when he heard the door open and saw the doctor enter. "Hey, Doc," he said simply.

"Good morning, Dean," the doctor replied. "How'd you sleep?"

Dean shook his head. "I've had worse. How's Sam?"

"He has significantly improved," the doctor answered. "His vitals have steadily improved overnight. His blood count is staying up which is good. I was really concerned considering how much blood he lost. I've already stopped the sedative. So, he should be waking up soon."

Dean sighed. "And then comes the hard part."

The doctor shook his head. "I know it will be hard, but we can't hide it from him. He'll need you now more than ever."

"I've never been good with emotions," Dean admitted. "But I'll do my best."

"Maybe you should try to get another nap before Sam wakes up," the doctor suggested. "You still look tired."

Dean gave the doctor a lopsided grin. "I could say the same to you. Did you get any sleep?"

"Some," the doctor said. "I have a couch in my office that I stretch out on. I was able to catch a few winks in between the hourly checks." The office phone began to ring. "Excuse me, I need to get that."

Dean nodded. He decided to take a few moments to relieve the urge to pee that had been building since he had woken up. After taking care of his need, he took some extra time to splash some cool water on his face and tried to force some errant strands of hair back into place. Once he was satisfied that he was somewhat presentable, he headed back towards Sam's room. He passed by the nurse's desk. Dr. Forester sat t the desk with a shell shocked look on his face.

"You okay, Doc?" Dean questioned.

The doctor looked up at Dean. "That was the sheriff's office. Gail is dead."

"What?!" Dean exclaimed. "What happened? Was there an accident?"

The doctor shook his head. "The details are a little sketchy. The paperboy found her this morning at the bottom of her porch. She had some blood on the back of her head. The police speculate that she slipped on the steps and fell backwards, knocking herself out. Then, she basically succumbed to the elements.

"Oh, Doc," Dean responded. "I'm sorry to hear that. Gail always seemed like such a nice person."

The doctor nodded. "She was. She was very good at putting the patients at ease. I'm sure you noticed. I could trust her completely. I don't know how I'm going to replace her."

Dean tried to be understanding. "What are you going to do until then?"

The doctor sighed. "I guess that's one of the perks of being a small town doctor. My schedule isn't normally packed. I'll just scale it back to a size that I can manage on my own, at least until I can find someone to replace her."

"What about Sam?" Dean asked. "How long will he have to stay here? You can't monitor him twenty-four seven. You'll burn yourself out."

"You're right," the doctor replied. "I'll see if Dr. Winslow can relieve me so I can get some rest."

"And if he can't?" Dean pressed.

The doctor shook his head. "I'll deal somehow. I'll have to." He could tell that Dean was still worried, so he continued. "Look, Sam is my first priority. I'll do whatever I have to in order to keep him healthy. I promise you that. Now, why don't you go sit with him? Let me know when he wakes up."

Dean still looked unconvinced but nodded. "Okay, Doc." He then headed back to Sam's room.

It was a little more than an hour before Sam began to stir. He slowly moved his head from side to side.

Dean leaned forward. "Hey, Sammy, are you with us?"

Sam mumbled something unintelligible and moved his hand to rest on his chest. He tried to shift his position but stopped almost immediately. Dean could tell by Sam's face that even in sleep, he was feeling some pain.

Dean stuck his head out the door. "Doc? Hey, Doc." The doctor stepped out of the door of his office and looked down the hallway. "I think he is waking up," Dean told him.

The doctor nodded. "I'll be right there."

Dean nodded and went back to Sam's bedside. He placed a hand on Sam's fore arm. "Come on, Sam. It's time to wake up. You've slept long enough. Come on. Open those eyes."

Dr. Forester entered the room. "How's he doing?"

Dean looked up at the doctor. "He's been doing some moving, and he was mumbling a second ago."

The doctor nodded as he placed the stethoscope in his ears. He placed the drum against Sam's chest to listen to Sam's heart and lungs. Sam mumbled and shifted again.

In a loud voice, the doctor said. "Sam, it's Dr. Forester. I need you to wake up for me."

Sam's eyes fluttered open for a few seconds, but then they drifted closed again.

Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Oh, no you don't. You need to keep your eyes open."

Sam opened his eyes again and focused them on Dean. "Dean…" His voice was low and rough.

Dean forced a smile. "Good morning, sunshine. You finally back with us?"

"Whatever," Sam muttered as his eyes started to close again.

The doctor spoke up. "Sam, I have a few questions for you. Then you can go back to sleep." Sam just nodded. So, the doctor continued. "How are you feeling?"

A look of confusion crossed Sam's face. "Tired…confused…my gut hurts…I feel weak."

The doctor nodded. "The weakness is probably a residual effect from either the blood loss or the sedative, maybe a combination of both. On a scale from one to ten, how bad is the pain?"

Sam tried to focus. "Uhm…around a six…maybe a seven."

The doctor made some notes in Sam's chart. "I'll get you a pain killer."

Sam shook his head. "It's not that bad."

"The pain may not seem bad right now," the doctor replied. "But believe me; it will get worse as your body wakes up more. It's better to head it off than to try to relieve it once it gets too bad."

"Okay, you're the doctor," Sam gave in.

"Is there anything else?" The doctor asked.

Sam thought for a moment and then looked down at his stomach. He placed a hand on his only slightly rounded abdomen. "The baby…I had the baby?"

Dean exchanged a worried look with the doctor. Quietly, he answered. "Yes, you did."

"Well, where is he?" Sam demanded, his voice growing stronger. "I want to see him."

Dean turned his face away and didn't answer.

Sam became alarmed at Dean's response. He looked between Dean and the doctor. "Dean? Doc? What…" He didn't complete the question as the doctor sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Sam," the doctor began quietly. "There was a complication. I'm sorry. The baby didn't make it."

What little color Sam had drained away. "What do you mean? He died? That isn't possible. He's alive! I know he's alive!" Sam declared forcefully.

Dean tried to calm Sam down. "Sam, I'm sorry. He's telling you the truth. I've seen the baby. I know this is hard for you, but you have to accept it. The baby is gone. I'm so sorry, Sam."

Sam shook his head as his eyes filled with tears. "I don't understand. Things had been going so well. How'd this happen?"

The doctor sighed. "The placenta ruptured. Do you remember hearing that before we took you into surgery?"

Sam shook his head. "I remember being in a lot of pain. I really wasn't paying attention to what else was going on."

The doctor continued. "Well, the rupture created heavy internal bleeding. We almost lost you as well. We did everything we could for the baby, but we still lost him."

Sam gave the doctor a confused look. "So, he was born alive?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes, he was, but he died only minutes after birth. I am sorry for your loss."

Sam's tears finally forced their way from his eyes. "Can I still see him?"

The doctor nodded again. "He's down in my small morgue. I'll go get him."

Once the doctor left the room, Sam turned to Dean. Through his tears, he said. "Go ahead, Dean, and say it."

Now, Dean was confused. "Say what?"

"That this was all for nothing," Sam replied angrily. "I was an idiot. After everything I did these past months, there's nothing to show for it. I should've listened to you in the first place. I could've saved us both a lot of hassle."

"You didn't know this was going to happen," Dean tried to comfort Sam. "You were following your heart. Never apologize for that. Besides, it wasn't for nothing. We learned a lot about each other. During that time we've developed a new respect for each other. We'll be better hunters because of it."

"You don't really believe that," Sam responded, although he didn't seem as angry. "But thanks for trying to cheer me up."

"Now, don't you be telling me what I believe," Dean tried to lighten his tone, but it didn't help his brother. "Sam, I know this is hard for you. You were really looking forward to this baby. So was I. Sure, I fought it at first, but I came around. You brought me around. Please tell me if there is anything that I can do."

Sam tried to brush his tears away. "Tell me something Dean."

"Anything, Sam," Dean said.

"You said you saw the baby, right?" Sam asked. Dean nodded in response but didn't speak. "Does he look normal? Or is he…" He couldn't finish the question.

"Of course, he's normal," Dean answered. "The ultrasounds showed that. Why would you even ask?"

Sam shook his head. "Well, it's just…you know…with the trickster involved…"

Dean nodded. "I guess I hadn't thought about it like that." He paused for a moment. "Sam, I just don't…"

The doctor's re-entrance interrupted Dean. He carried the small bundled body. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Sam looked uncertain for a moment and then nodded. "I have to do this." He reached his arms out.

The doctor laid the baby in Sam's arms. He moved to a corner and tried to appear busy with the chart, but in reality, he was keeping a close eye on Sam.

Sam held the baby close. He ran a hand over the peach fuzz hair and then down the cold cheek. More tears fell from Sam's eyes. "He's beautiful," Sam choked out.

"Yes, he is," Dean agreed. "He reminds me a lot of you as a baby."

Sam looked at his baby again and whispered. "Oh, Jason…I wanted so much for you. I really…" His voice trailed off as he clutched the baby tightly to h is chest and loudly sobbed out his grief.

As hard as Dean tried to remain strong, a few tears managed to escape his eyes. He felt so helpless. In a rare show of emotions, Dean climbed onto Sam's bed and pulled Sam and the baby into his chest. He didn't say anything. He just held his brother, gently rubbing his back.

The doctor watched in concern as Sam's grief consumed him. What the brothers didn't know was that the doctor fully understood that grief. He let his mind wander back to that day more than twelve years ago. His wife gave birth to his one and only child, a stillborn son. Nothing was the same after that. He threw himself into his work. His marriage crumbled. He moved to Elk Point shortly after the divorce to escape the mess he had made of his life. He forced his mind back to the present as he realized that the harsh sobs were diminishing.

Sam still cried into Dean's shoulder. "It's not…fair," He spoke haltingly through his tears. "I…wanted…this baby…so much."

"I know you did," Dean tried to comfort Sam.

Sam continued. "I did…everything…to keep him…healthy…I tried…I really did…what did I…do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Dr. Forester answered, moving closer to the bed. "Sometimes, these things just aren't meant to be. I know that's little comfort right now, but you can't blame yourself. It'll eat you alive."

Sam pulled out of Dean's arms. "I just feel…" Sam's tears grew heavier again. "I feel…" He stammered. "It hurts…so bad."

Dean looked at the doctor, silently pleading with him to help his brother.

The doctor placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Look, this is a lot to deal with all at once. Why don't you let me take the baby, and you try to get some rest?"

Sam shook his head. "I can't…not now. I can't…give him up."

"Come on, Sam," Dean said. "Listen to the doctor. He only wants the best for you."

Sam wiped his face as his tears lessened. "I know. I just don't think I can rest now."

"I can give you something to help," Dr. Forester suggested.

Sam nodded and quietly said. "Okay," he handed the baby back to the doctor.

"I'll be right back," the doctor took the baby and left the room.

Dean took charge. "Okay, Sam, lay back, here. Close your eyes. Take a couple of deep breaths."

Sam did as he was ordered although his breathing was still slightly hitched.

Dean absentmindedly straightened the blanket. "Is there anything that you want me to do?"

Sam sighed and answered with a simple "No."

"Are you sure?" Dean pressed. "Anything? Food? Magazines?"

"Dean, please," Sam replied. "Shut up."

"Yeah, right," Dean sat down and waited in silence for the doctor to return.

Dr. Forester entered the room a few minutes later. He gave Sam an injection through his IV. It was a lighter sedative than the one he used the night before. It didn't just knock him out, but instead it relaxed him both physically and mentally to allow his body to fall into a natural sleep. Once Sam had drifted off, the doctor turned to Dean. "He'll probably sleep a while. Why don't you head home and get some rest yourself?"

Dean shook his head. "I'd rather stay here with Sam. He may need me."

Dr. Forester sighed. "The past twenty-four hours has been rough on you too. You look beat. You need some rest. You won't be ay good to Sam this way."

"I'll just sleep in this chair again," Dean argued. "I'll be fine."

One thing that Dr. Forester had learned over the past few months is the Winchester brothers were very stubborn. So, instead of trying to argue, he tried a different tactic. "Look, I have that couch in my office. It's not the best, but it's more comfortable than that chair. Why don't you go lay in there. I'll come get you if Sam needs you."

Dean nodded. "Okay, I can handle that." He stood up and followed the doctor to his office. Once there, he told the doctor. "If Sam needs me, you'll come and get me, no matter what. Right?"

"You have my word, the doctor replied. "Now, get some rest. I have some phone calls to make."

Dean stretched out on the cot. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but his mind ran wild. It took about a half hour of tossing and turning before he finally fell into a restless sleep.

When Dean opened his eyes again, he was surprised to see that more than two hours had passed. A part of him wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but he refused to give in to that part. He rolled off the cot and went to check on Sam. Dean got to Sam's room and saw that Sam was still sleeping. The doctor was not in Sam's room, and Dean knew that he wasn't in his office. So, Dean went in search of him. He found him a few minutes later, working in a lab. "Hey, Doc," he said as he entered the room.

Dr. Forester looked up from his microscope. "Dean, are you feeling better?"

Dean nodded. "I guess. The nap did help even if it was only a couple of hours. Thanks."

The doctor gave Dean a confused look. "For what?"

"For insisting on it," Dean replied. Quickly changing the subject, he asked. "How's Sam?"

The doctor sighed heavily. "His temperature is starting to rise. I'm afraid that he's developing an infection."

"What are you doing about it?" Dean demanded.

"I've increased the antibiotic," the doctor replied. "I've also drawn some blood. I've just started running some cultures. Hopefully, once I get those results, I can tailor the antibiotics to fight the infection more effectively."

"Has he been awake at all?" Dean wanted to know.

The doctor shook his head. "He stirred a bit when I drew the blood, but he went right back to sleep."

Dean slumped a bit. "I think I'll go sit with him again."

"First, I want you to stop by the kitchenette," the doctor told him. "You haven't eaten anything since you brought Sam in yesterday. Help yourself to anything in there. I don't want you getting sick because you're not eating."

Dean laughed lightly. "You just can't stop doctoring people. Can you? I'm not your patient, remember."

The doctor shrugged. It's an occupational hazard. Although, if you don't eat soon, you will be a patient. I assume you want to avoid that, right?"

"All right, you win," Dean answered. "I'll grab something and take it to Sam's room."

"Okay," Dr. Forester replied. "I'll be checking on him in a bit."

"See ya," Dean said as he left the room. He grabbed a protein bar and some juice and then went to his brother's room. He sat down and looked at Sam. "An infection, Sam?" He said. "You're supposed to be getting better. So, you'd better fight it. I'm counting on you. Don't you dare let me down." Then barely audible, he added. "Please, don't let me down."