Sam couldn't sleep.

He was in pain.

His left arm and right leg burned as though someone had poured gasoline over the limbs and then set them on fire. The pills the nurse had given him took the edge off, but only just. The idea of drifting off into the bliss of unconsciousness seemed ridiculous to Sam now. Besides the physical discomfort, Sam couldn't stop thinking about what Dean had told him.

He remembered digging up the grave, remembered how it had started to rain and that he suggested they leave. Dean hadn't wanted to go, angry, Sam guessed, that what should have been a routine salt-and-burn was becoming anything but. Sam recalled reaching down to grab Dean, help him up from the hole they had dug, then, feeling a white-hot pain envelope his body and then nothing, darkness.

Sam knew he should be grateful to be alive. Very few people survived getting struck by lightning. But, after what Dean had told him what the doctor had had to do, Sam didn't feel very lucky at all.

Glancing down at his body shrouded in the white hospital sheets, Sam reached out with his uninjured right hand and gripped the sheets, slowly drawing them upwards to reveal his feet- or his left foot and the place where his right leg ended just above his ankle- and drew his hand back quickly. He closed his eyes and forced himself to stay calm but his breath was coming in short bursts, his heart pounding in his chest, sweat beading on his brow.

His anxiety only seemed to intensify the pain and he groaned out loud. Eyes still closed, Sam searched blindly with his right hand for the call bell that would summon a nurse. He found it, Dean had looped it around the bed rails before he left, and pressed down on the button, hard.

The sound of light footsteps approaching made Sam open his eyes just in time to see a wisp of a girl enter the room, wearing scrubs the colour of cotton candy.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, approaching the bed.

"Can I have some more medication?" Sam asked, gritting his teeth.

The nurse checked his chart and shook her head, "Not for another couple of hours, I'm sorry."

Sam let out a breath and closed his eyes again.

"I can see if I can give you something to help you sleep," the nurse suggested and Sam nodded without looking at her. He listened to her footsteps as she left the room.

"Keep it together," Sam muttered to himself and stared at the ceiling for a long moment before gazing downwards, at his hands. One looked as it always did, the other mummified with bandages and missing a few fingers, both trembling uncontrollably.

A lump formed in Sam's throat suddenly. He tried to swallow it and failed.

Why hadn't he been more forceful with Dean? Why hadn't he told Dean they needed to stop? No, demanded they stop until the storm had passed.

Now, because he hadn't done as he should have, he was paying the price. What must Dean think? There was no way he could hunt anymore. He was useless, a liability.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam muttered.

Approaching footsteps alerted the young man to the nurse's return. She held two plastic cups in her hand, one with water, the other with a pill.

"Here you go," she handed Sam the cup with the pill in it, "Hopefully this helps."

Sam threw his head back, swallowed the pill, ignoring the water.

Trying to find a comfortable position, Sam closed his eyes and tried to imagine what he would do now that he was unable to hunt. Go back to school? That was out of the question. Research? Maybe, but Dean could do that without him.

Sam didn't even realize it when sleep overcame him, coming quickly and silently and within moments of taking the nurse's pill he was unconscious, dreaming dreams tinged with the pain searing along his nerves.

Author's Note:

Thanks to mandancie, TXKimsonFan, Trucklady53, jensensgirl3, need2no, reannablue, elliereynolds777, Zeldalsis, bagelcat1, Kas3y, AlxM, NextAirAvatar, whatnosheep, TweetyRulz, Dimac31, Katlover98, and Marblewolf for reviewing.

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