Summary:  Dean wakes up in the ICU only to learn that his nightmare has just begun as Sam clings to life.
A/N:  Okay, first off. Yes, this story has Ellen and Jo in it, but I’m not a fan of the Jo/Dean hook-up route, so don’t look for undying love happening here. But, I am however, a supporter of the roadhouse only because as much as I love the brother dynamic on the show it’s nice to know they aren’t completely alone in the world. They have a place to fall back on. Yes, “No Exit” sort of left it with the notion the boys may stay gone for a while after the parting words between Jo and Dean. But, having read spoilers and script sides … I know that at least Ellen is back for episode 10. Anyway, I don’t dislike the roadhouse, although, I don’t want to always have them there, and I’m very anti Jo and Dean becoming involved. Friends yes, maybe even confidants to a degree, but a relationship, nope, no way.
I base Ellen’s behavior with Sam in this story with her interactions with him in person and on the phone. Like in “Bloodlust” she called him ‘sweetie.’
Disclaimer:  The characters of Supernatural were created by Eric Kripke and are owned by the CW Network. No Profit is being made.

Jo appeared in the doorway suddenly. Ellen and Dean both looked at her and saw the distress in her eyes. And, the flurry of activity running by Dean’s room window set both Ellen and Dean’s heart’s racing. And, Jo’s fearful words shattered the tenuous moment, “Something’s wrong with Sam.”

Ellen stood abruptly her hand immediately going to Dean’s chest as she anticipated him try to lurch up into a sitting position. Dean felt like a pinned butterfly, but relented in part to her gentle force and his pain. “What happened?” Ellen barked. “Jo?” Her daughter shifted panicked eyes from her mother to Dean and settled on her mom again.

“Dammit,” Dean growled. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Jo blurted. “Machines started making noises and then they shoved me out.” Dean turned agonized eyes to Ellen. She nodded knowing silently what Dean was asking.

“I’ll go find out. You stay put,” she ordered lightly. Dean gave her a clipped nod. “Joanna Beth sit your backside down and make sure he doesn’t try anything stupid.” Ellen left quickly.

10 Minutes Later

“What’s taking so damn long?” Dean hissed. “Can you see your mom out there?” Dean asked as he watched Jo leaning back in her chair trying to see out the window to Sam’s room.

“I just see people coming and going. I saw some machines, maybe an ultrasound thingy. I don’t see my mom.”

“Go find her. I gotta know what’s happening with Sam.”

“Dean,” Jo started. “You know she’ll come back as soon as she’s asked the doctors everything under the sun.”

“It’s just…” his voice trailed off as he stared at a small fray in his cover and started playing with it out of nerves. He felt like he had to occupy his mind with something because thinking about Sammy felt like all of his oxygen was being squeezed out of him.

“I know you’re worried,” Jo offered. She didn’t feel equipped for this situation. She didn’t have the words. “Hey,” she said absently. “I see her … she’s coming this way with Dr. Rosen.”

“What else do you see? What’s your mom look like?” Jo turned her eyes toward Dean for a second.

“What? What is it?” Dean felt his heart miss a beat in his chest.

“She looks stressed,” Jo offered bluntly. “They stopped,” Jo continued her running commentary from her window vantage point.

“What are they doing?”

“Talking … wait I see people in surgical scrubs … they’re taking Sam away on a gurney.”

“What? Where? I want to know what the hell is happening,” Dean yelled.

Ellen and Dr. Rosen heard Dean’s shout from his room, and quickly hurried inside his room. “Dean,” Ellen spoke first.

“Jo said she saw them taking Sam away … where? You can’t cut him open again,” Dean declared. Now Dr. Rosen spoke.

“Dean there’s been a complication.”

“No shit,” Dean hissed.

“Dean,” Ellen replied casting a stern look at Dean. “Watch your tongue.”

“It’s okay,” The doctor tried to assure Ellen. He had heard much more colorful language from other family members over the years. He understood it was fear talking.

“Screw my language. He’s my brother! I want to know what the hell is happening. Why are you taking him back to surgery?

“Based on some exams and stat blood tests we had to send him back in,” the doctor began. “After a surgery and especially with a patient that has experienced bleeding and clotting problems…” he was cut off.

“I thought Sam’s blood was clotting better. He’s bleeding again?”

“No,” Dr. Rosen replied. “His liver as you know sustained trauma and a portion of it was removed. Sam’s surgeon Dr. Paquet believes Sam has thrown a massive clot inside his liver and has subsequently blocked his hepatic artery. If the artery isn’t unblocked Sam will be die within the hour, most likely a lot less than that I’m afraid.”

“He believes he has a blood clot,” Dean accused.

“Dean, please just listen to the doctor,” Ellen urged.

“Dean there are a number of tests that we can run and Dr. Paquet and myself both agree that Sam’s liver functions are compromised to the point of imminent failure. He was already starting to show signs of severe jaundice, a yellowing appearance to his skin. I assure you that Sam would not be going back into surgery if it wasn’t a matter of life and death.” The doctor looked at Dean and decided to be blunt. “If the liver stops functioning completely and we believe Sam is dangerously close to that outcome due to the suspected clot … if the liver stops functioning death can and often does occur within thirty minutes.” Dean’s eyes widened.

“But,” Dean couldn’t speak anymore as his mind was too overwhelmed with everything he’d just been told. A paralyzing fear gripped him. Ellen saw the desperation. She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder as she stood next to him.

“Dr. Rosen,” she spoke. “How long until we hear something?”

“It’s a delicate procedure. Dr. Paquet will have to dissect the artery to evacuate the clot and possibly repair the artery if damage occurred due to the clot. He will have to verify that the liver is profusing and when there is a blot clot present one must be very careful in extraction to prevent any of it breaking off and entering Sam’s blood stream.”

“Why?” Dean asked as he found his voice and strength under Ellen’s strong grip on his shoulder.

“A loose clot in Sam’s system could go to any number of places, his lungs, his heart causing a heart attack or even the brain causing a stroke. So, Dr. Paquet must be careful. The bit of luck Sam has had is the fact the clot is believed to be so large it was actually caught in the artery and didn’t enter his system. Also, the fact he didn’t develop another clot elsewhere that could have killed him within seconds.”

“So, you’re saying we could be in for another long wait?” Ellen questioned.

“Yes, afraid so, but when I get updates of any kind I’ll personally notify you all, okay?” Ellen nodded. Jo sat along the wall and looked shell shocked. Dean simply stared at his folded hands no longer knowing what to do with the emotions battling inside his body. Dr. Rosen looked at his patient. “Dean,” he spoke with a well practiced comforting voice. “I know this is a lot to deal with all at once, and that things just keep stacking up. Dr. Paquet will do everything he can to bring Sam through this. He’s a good man and your brother’s in the best hands he can be right now.” Dean met eyes with the doctor, but said nothing. “Now,” the doctor started again. “I’m going to have Cathy your nurse take your pressure again, okay. And, I know this is asking a lot, but I want you to try and rest and let your body heal.”

One Hour Later

Jo was curled in a corner on a sleeping chair under a blanket. Ellen sat by Dean and simply tried to offer comfort and support by just being in close proximity. She wished he would sleep, but he only dozed in short naps. “Dean, Hun, please try to sleep. Your blood pressure is still too low, and you need to rest,” she paused. “Just like Dr. Rosen said earlier, you need to let your body heal.” Dean looked at her with haunted eyes.

“Let my body heal,” his tone devoid of emotion. “Sammy’s body is a wreck. He… he could be …” his voice hitched despite his effort to keep control. “He could be dying right now. It’s my fault. We shouldn’t have done that damn hunt. He’s dying because of me.” He lost the battle with his stoic nature and his face crumbled. He turned away from Ellen, so that she would see his tears. She reached over and took his hand in hers. She felt him tense, but he didn’t pull away.

“You listen here,” her voice was strong and emphatic. “Sam isn’t going to die … you have to believe that. And, this hunt, it wasn’t your fault.” Dean turned his face and looked at her. She saw new tears brimming in his eyes and a level of anguish in his face that took her breath away.

“You don’t know,” he choked out. “You weren’t there. It’s my fault.”

“Okay,” she conceded. “Then tell me what happened,” she urged. She knew Dean needed to talk whether he knew he realized it. She had to let him say his peace and then shoot as many holes in his reasoning as possible and then make him believe that Sam’s injuries weren’t his fault. “I’m waiting,” she encouraged.

“Sammy said we needed to know more, but I was sure I knew how to handle it,” Dean forced out of his tight throat. “We figured it was a wendigo that had been attacking the hikers and campers, but I under estimated it. I shouldn’t have,” Dean hissed. “We’ve hunted wendigo’s before.”

“What happened?”

“I made us follow a hiking path that had a recent attack. Of course the park service had up signs telling everyone there had been recent animal attacks. No big deal,” Dean continued on as if on auto-pilot. “Sammy said the hunting patterns were off with this one that it seemed to hunt whenever it wanted because some people were attacked during the day and not at night like usual. I called him a geek and said he thinks too much,” Dean’s voice caught in his throat.

“He was right Ellen we shouldn’t have gone into the woods like we did. That thing was hunting us the moment we entered the woods. I thought he was being dramatic about the day time attacks. I just didn’t think it was important … you know flukes. The other attacks … all of them, but three were at night … I should have listened to him, but I…”

“Dean you can’t blame yourself.” Ellen suddenly felt at a loss. Dean glared at her.

“Yes, I can,” Dean replied hotly. “Come on, Ellen who are we kidding here? It was an obvious change in pattern and I blew it off and Sammy paid for my fucking mistake.”

“Dean, hunts can go bad so quickly even with the most prepared ones. It happened and now we deal with the fallout.”

“We?” Dean hissed. “We don’t have to deal with anything. Sammy’s my family, my blood. Jesus, Ellen if he …” he took a shaking breath. “If he dies, I killed him. I killed my little brother.” Ellen stood up abruptly and reached out taking Dean’s chin roughly in her hand.

“Look at me boy,” she demanded. “You haven’t killed Sam. You saved him with the flare gun.” Her voice and eyes softened. “Your brother is fighting Dean and you can’t give up on him.” Dean’s jaw was tight and Ellen could see his muscles twitching. He met her eyes.

“I can’t lose him,” his admission was quiet and heart wrenching to Ellen’s ears. “He’s all I got.” Dean’s bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. Ellen wanted to say with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t lose his only brother, his only family, but she couldn’t.

“Dean, hun,” she replied tentatively. “Sam survived the attack because of you; otherwise you would have both died. You gave him a chance. You have to tell yourself that. Fine, maybe the attack could have been prevented, maybe not.” Ellen spoke with an assured tone. “But it happened and now we go from there, together, okay? You’re not alone, you never will be,” her voice steadfast. “You hearin’ me boy?” Dean’s nod was almost unperceivable, but Ellen had seen it.

“I can still hear him screaming,” his voice sounded more like a small child than the young man in front of her eyes.

“Oh, hun,” Ellen had no words now. And, before she could think about it or reconsider her decision to move forward she leaned down and wrapped her arms around Dean and hugged him to herself. Dean tensed and she held steady. Ellen felt Dean give into the physical touch and suddenly his emotions were given release and he cried in her shoulder and she held him. She held Dean tightly and she knew deep down that his tears were for Sammy, yes, but they were also for so much more and she held him as his crying hitched in his chest and sobbed. Dean Winchester was crying for his brother, his father, his mother, and a life held to the fire since he was four years old. “Shh,” Ellen whispered as she stroked Dean’s back with one hand while she held him tightly.

Three Hours Later, the OR Hallway

Dr. Rosen walked into the OR portion of the surgical unit intent on getting news about Sam when he learned the nearly four hour surgery had finally ended. He walked into the hallway that lie between the OR and the recovery room in time to see Dr. Paquet rip off his surgical mask balling it in his fist and throwing it into a biohazard bin as he muttered “Sonofabitch,” under his breath not knowing that Dr. Rosen was behind him. The doctor knew the news wasn’t good. He cleared his voice to get Dr. Paquet’s attention. The doctor turned and met eyes with his colleague.

“Ron, how long have you been there?” Dr. Paquet regarded his friend.

“Long enough Mike,” he replied. “Did you lose him on the table?” Dr. Paquet dropped his eyes and let out a sigh that seemed a combination of defeat and frustration.

“No, but almost,” Dr. Paquet answered. “The kid’s heart stopped again, it took a while to get him back. I came damn close to calling it, but then the last Epi finally kicked in and we were able to defib him back into a rhythm.”

“But his liver,” Dr. Rosen knew there was more. He knew his friend too well.

“I was able to remove the clot. We were right about it occluding the hepatic artery. It had caused a complete blockage. His liver is profusing fine now and the jaundice began abating as soon as the clot was removed.”

“Come on Mike I know you to well … what is it?”

“He’s weak Ron. The kid has been through too much. His vital signs aren’t getting stronger…” Dr. Rosen interrupted his friend.

“He’s not going to make it is he?”

“I think it’ll take a miracle for him to survive until the sun comes up. Do you want me to talk to the family?”

“No,” Dr. Rosen replied. “Dammit,” he hissed. “I know you did everything Mike. The kid’s just been through too much.”

“Frankly, I’m surprised we even got a pulse back Ron. The kid is fighting so damn hard, but he’s getting tired and …”

“He’s starting to let go,” he finished his friend’s observation. Dr. Paquet nodded.

“Look if anything comes up … I’m on duty all night just page me,” Dr. Paquet replied.

“Do you want me to page you when…” Dr. Rosen began and stopped.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it. I don’t know what it is about this kid, but I feel completely invested. I want to see it through.”

“I know how you feel. But, the kid’s older brother is going to take it hard. I talked to his aunt and apparently the boys lost their Dad a few months ago, and the mother has been dead since the youngest was a baby. There’s no way his brother will just let him go quietly. He’ll want us to do a full code on his brother when he arrests.”

“Yeah,” Dr. Paquet answered with a tired sigh. “Do what you have to … maybe it’ll give his big brother some closure if he knows everything was done. Damn shame, really.” Dr. Rosen nodded at his friend. “He’ll be moved back to ICU in a few minutes. I’d keep him in recovery longer, but…”

“I know … let the family have time with him.”

“He shouldn’t die with strangers around him.”

Ten Minutes Later, the ICU, Dean’s Room

Dean was numb after Dr. Rosen had broken the news about his brother. Ellen was stoic and Jo sat unmoving staring at the floor. There weren’t words. “He’s not dying,” Dean said suddenly. “I won’t lose Sammy.”

“Dean,” Ellen wanted to tell him to hold on to that hope, but the doctor had been clear there was no hope. That Sam would likely die before the sun rose on a new day. “I know you want to believe …” Dean cut her off.

“Don’t,” he barked. “Not after all that damn pep talk you gave me about Sammy making it. You can’t tell me he’s gonna die … you don’t get to say those words to me … not you!” Ellen dropped her eyes suddenly feeling like a hypocrite and that she had let Dean down in some way.

“They should be in here shortly to take you over to his room once he’s settled,” she replied deciding not to address Dean’s previous comments to her.

“I want to see him alone,” Dean spoke firmly. “The doc already said I could stay as long as I wanted.”

“Jo and I will wait for you here,” Ellen offered. She wanted to see Sam to visit with him too before … but she knew it wasn’t her place and she’d not force herself into this. Sam was Dean’s only family, his little brother and it was his sole right to be with him when he was released from this world and she wouldn’t intrude. She felt a tremor work through her and she privately thought to herself, I’ll say goodbye to him before they take him away … after he’s gone and Dean’s back in his room … damn she hated this. Things hadn’t seemed this wrong or upside down since William, her husband had died years ago. Too soon. Too much life left to live. It was simply wrong.

One Hour Later, Sam’s ICU Room

The blinds on Sam’s window opening up into the unit had been drawn and his door closed slightly allowing Dean privacy with his sibling. He stared at his brother’s pale face as he had for the past hour and watched the mechanical rise and fall of is chest. Dean held Sam’s hand between both of his own. He stared at the heart monitor and watched as Sam’s heart struggled to beat. He knew a heart rate barely maintaining 50 was bad, and Sam’s blood pressure was barely readable he had been told earlier.

“Sammy,” Dean began after long moments of just watching his little brother. “I thought we had a deal,” he began bluntly. “You know the Winchester brothers against the world.” His chin trembled as he fought to say what he needed to while he held his fear, and ultimately his grief at bay. “It can’t end like this Sammy. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. It ain’t right,” he choked. “This shouldn’t be happening to you.” Dean lifted Sam’s hand up and pressed it against his face. Sam’s cool hand sent a shiver through Dean when it touched his warm cheek. Tears ran unchecked down Dean’s face.

“Please,” his voice was desperate. “You can’t let go Sammy. I’m not letting you go,” he asserted. “I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to.” Dean gazed at his brother with agonized eyes. “Come on Sammy open your eyes prove them wrong. You’re too stubborn to die.” Dean cast a look at the heart monitor and saw Sam’s heart rate had dropped even lower as it hovered between 46 and 48. Sam was slipping and Dean felt it. “No, Sammy,” Dean’s voice assertive. “Please,” he begged again. The numbers dropped once more to 44 and Dean’s resolve crumbled. Death was coming and he couldn’t kill it, he couldn’t fight it … Sammy was letting go and Dean felt so incredibly empty. Dean did the only thing he could he leaned forward forgetting his own physical pain and dropped his head onto his brother’s shoulder. He held Sam’s hand within his own. “Please, Sammy, don’t do this,” he pleaded. “I’m not gonna say its okay, I won’t. It’s not okay for you to let go. Please,” his voice broke and a sob escaped. “Please …. stay,” he choked out. “For me Sammy, stay for me.”

Long minutes past and Dean stayed where he was … his head on Sam’s shoulder holding his hand. “Please stay,” had become a soft mantra. Dean’s head jerked up suddenly when he felt the slightest pressure in his hand. He cast eyes to his brother, but Sam’s face was the same, lax almost peaceful in its pale repose. He thought he’d imagined it. “Sammy?” And then he watched as fingers weakly twitched in his hand and curled ever so slightly around Dean’s own.

Dean felt a mixture of panic and happiness. Was Sam saying goodbye or was this the miracle he had been praying for silently? He looked up at the heart monitor and smiled when he saw 61. “Sammy, I’m here,” Dean practically cooed. He stroked his brother’s bangs gently and rhythmically.

Sam heard his brother’s voice distant at first and then closer. Come on back Sammy. Fight. Keep fighting. I’m here. Sammy, don’t leave me and he struggled against the darkness holding him and then he heard the words clearly through the dark and they showed him the way home, they showed him the way back to Dean, Stay Sammy… stay for me.

Dean watched as Sam’s eyes fluttered. “That’s it Sammy, open your eyes. I’m here,” Dean encouraged. And, although the room was dim bathed only in the pale light creeping in through the blinds and slightly ajar door … Dean would have sworn he was standing in the rays of the strong afternoon sun as … Sam’s eyes opened.

Dean smiled so wide his mouth hurt. He quieted Sam as he feebly resisted the ventilator. He was too weak to really even contest its intrusion in his throat. “Shh… it’s okay. Hey, little brother, I’m here,” he whispered softly as he stroked Sam’s bangs. Sam’s tired dark eyes focused on Dean and his big brother’s comforting words. Dean didn’t care that he felt tears slipping down his cheeks once again as he smiled softly at his brother. “Thanks for staying,” he whispered quietly as he leaned in a kissed his little brother’s forehead.

Three Hours Later

Dean had adamantly refused to leave his brother’s side. Dr. Rosen and Dr. Paquet had both been in to see Sam and exam him. Dean smiled down at his sleeping brother. Sam had the entire ICU unit talking about him and his miracle survival. Ellen and Jo had both been in to see Sam briefly, but Ellen had still been hesitant to intrude. Sam was incredibly weak and Dr. Rosen had said he was guardedly optimistic about Sam’s condition. Sam stirred and Dean stroked his thumb across his brother’s forehead trying to offer some comfort as he woke slowly. He still wasn’t able to speak because of the breathing tube. Dr. Rosen had deemed Sam not ready to come off the ventilator just yet, but that they would try weaning him slowly over the next few days.

“Sammy?” Dean leaned in close and whispered. He watched his brother’s dark eyes open and regard his big brother softly. He couldn’t speak, but his eyes spoke volumes to Dean. “Hey there kiddo,” he greeted. Sam squeezed his brother’s hand gently. “You’re going to be fine Sammy,” Dean encouraged. “It’s okay to close your eyes. You need to rest. I’ll be here.” And, he watched his little brother’s eyes slide closed and he resumed his gentle stroking of his brother’s forehead and bangs. He felt compelled to keep some form of contact with Sam, as if he thought in losing that physical link he’d lose Sam and he’d slip away.

One Week Later

Dean had been officially released, but Sam was still in the ICU. Ellen and Jo had moved to a local extended stay hotel across the street from the hospital. The place was mostly filled with families that had a loved one in the hospital. Ellen had asked a family friend to keep tabs on the roadhouse in her absence. She had no intention of leaving Tempe until both of the boys could. She had forced Dean to take care of himself, so that he could be there for his brother. Dean had a room next door to Ellen and Jo not that he was there much. He showered and slept for a handful of hours and would be right back by Sam’s bedside. Mostly, though he opted to sleep in a chair in Sam’s room.

Sam had had a lot of difficulty coming off the ventilator. Dr. Rosen had assured that the contusions to Sam’s lungs and his weakened condition were the cause. Sam’s vent settings had been changed over the last few days where he had partial ventilation, but was taking breath’s on his own too. It was still worrisome to Ellen that he still had the breathing tube though and she’d be glad to see it gone. She also knew that Dean most assuredly was 100 times more bothered by the fact his little brother was still having his breathing assisted. However, despite everything Sam made improvements each day. They had been little at first. Perhaps, his blood pressure had come up or his heart rate stayed above the 60’s. They all took what they could get. But, it wasn’t until the sixth day that they had all been excited when Sam’s blood counts had finally normalized and his liver enzymes had been given the green light. Sam was healing. Sam was living.

Two Weeks Later

“Sammy calm down,” Dean asserted as Dr. Rosen stood nearby. “Sam I know its hard, but just take deep slow breath’s its okay.” Dean watched Sam struggle to take a decent breath. The doctor had removed the breathing tube a short while ago and Sam struggled.

Sam turned panicked eyes to his big brother. It felt like he was trying to breathe while someone sat on his chest. His diaphragm struggled inside his chest and the effort to take in a full, clean breath was causing him to panic. There was a trace of beaded sweat on his forehead. His pulse OX monitor had started to beep. Dean turned wide scared eyes to the doctor. “He can’t breathe,” he barked. “It was too soon.” Dr. Rosen stepped forward.

“Sam,” his voice was gentle yet commanding. “This is normal,” he assured. “Look you need to calm down. Your muscles for breathing are a little weak after being on the ventilator. It’s just going to take time. Easy…” he encouraged. He watched Sam’s oxygen levels continue to drop and his concern peaked. “Dammit,” he hissed.

“What? What is it?” Dean shouted in alarm.

“Calm down Sam,” the doctor ordered as he lowered Sam’s bed and grabbed an ambu bag and placed it over Sam’s face and began squeezing the bag giving Sam extra ventilation. “Easy,” he encouraged. “If you calm down you’ll be able to breathe easier. Sam I don’t want to have to intubate you again. Come on try. Dean,” the doctor said and looked pointedly at the young man. Dean stepped up.

“Listen to the doc Sammy. You don’t want that tube down your throat again, do you?” Sam managed to shake his head as he continued to struggle. He had clamed down a little when Dr. Rosen began ventilating him. “Easy Sammy,” Dean urged. “That’s it,” Dean smiled as he watched Sam calm himself and try to concentrate on his breathing. Dr. Rosen removed the ambu bag from Sam and studied his oxygen levels. He reached over and put an oxygen mask over Sam’s face.

“That’s it Sam,” Dr. Rosen encouraged. “Now just let the oxygen help you okay. You’ve got this. You’re doing fine.”

“Dean,” Sam rasped out and winced at the pain it caused. It was his first word since having the tube removed a short twenty minutes ago.

“Hey,” Dean smiled. “You might want to take it easy on the talking … your throat might be a little sore.”

“Your brother’s right Sam. The breathing tube was in place for two weeks, so you’re going to be tender for a few days. You can talk, but just don’t go giving any speeches in the next few days, okay?” Dean offered his brother a reassuring smile.

“’Kay,” Sam whispered through a wince. Dean just rolled his eyes at his stubborn brother.

Another Two Weeks Later

Dean walked toward Sam’s hospital room. He had been moved from ICU over a week and a half ago into a regular room on the critical care floor. Today was Sam’s release day and Dean could feel the anticipation of it in his gut. His little brother had been in the hospital an entire month and now he was finally able to have him back officially. Dean walked into Sam’s room.

“You need some help Sammy,” Dean saw his brother struggling with his button down shirt he was wearing out of the hospital.

“Nah, I got it,” Sam answered with a sheepish smile. He turned his attention toward his gym shoes on the floor as soon as he had his shirt sufficiently buttoned. Dean chuckled.

“There’s no way you can bend to get them kiddo. The doc said your outer sutures have dissolved, but that you can’t do any major bending or lifting for another month. Here let me help.” Dean grabbed the shoes from the floor easily. Sam looked pensive. “What?” Dean asked with an innocent face. “Come on give me your left foot,” Dean pulled a cotton sock out of the shoe and put it on his brother’s foot.

“Dean I’m not a kid. I can manage someway or the other,” Sam complained. Dean smiled and couldn’t resist making a plane noise as he started to put his brother’s foot in the shoe.

“Come on the little plane needs to go in the hanger,” Dean laughed. Sam shoved his foot into the shoe. “Oof,” Dean grumbled. “What was that for?”

“You have to ask?” Sam gave his older brother an incredulous look. Dean offered a mild smile.

“Okay, fair enough, but you can’t blame me.” The other sock and shoe were put on without any humorous preambles.

“Where are Ellen and Jo?” Sam asked. He had been glad that Ellen was around mostly because he could see her being around seemed to make Dean less tense. He knew she had taken care of a lot while both he and Dean had been in the hospital, but most of all he knew Ellen had been there for his big brother when the doctors had thought all hope was lost and had told Dean to basically prepare himself for his brother’s death.

“In the lobby,” Dean answered as he helped Sam with putting on a light jacket. “So, you okay with us staying at the roadhouse for a while?”

“Yeah, if you are,” Sam offered. “You know we could stay at a motel Dean. I’m cool.” Dean shook his head. He wasn’t blind. Sam was pale and shaky. He needed home cooking and a real bed. A crusty old motel wasn’t where Sam needed to heal. His brother was still on pain meds and antibiotics. The doctor had also prescribed one very fat horse pill of a multivitamin for Sam, as well. The antibiotics were only for another week, but the pain meds and vitamin were another story.

“Nah, Sammy, I’m good. We worked things out remember I told you we did,” Dean assured. Sam nodded. “Look we’re staying at a hotel across the street for a couple days, so you can rest and the doc can see you one last time and then we’ll go to the roadhouse. Are you going to be okay on the drive?”

“I’ll be fine,” Sam assured. “Are we all driving back together,” Sam smirked remembering the last time all four of them had been in the Impala together. It wasn’t pleasant, but then again that had been a different circumstance.

“What?” Dean chirped. “Hell no,” he assured. “Ellen and Jo are going to fly out the day before you and I check out of the hotel. Ellen said something about wanting to get things ready.”

“Ready? Geez, Dean I don’t want to put anyone out. It’s not like an invalid or something.”

“No, I know,” Dean agreed. “Ellen knows too, but dude, you gotta cut us some slack. I mean, you lost a part of your liver man, and had more than one major surgery.”

“Dr. Rosen said my liver would heal completely.”

“Yeah, but you still had a piece an organ chopped out dude … humor me, okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam conceded. An orderly showed up with a wheelchair in the doorway with Dr. Rosen and Dr. Paquet behind him.

“I just wanted to make sure you had his discharge care notes. These list his limitations and how long he should keep from doing certain things. I spoke with your aunt and she gave me the name of a local physician who I spoke with about your follow up care and appointments once you’re back in Nebraska.”

“Thanks for everything doc,” Sam smiled.

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean replied with his own smile. Sam looked around Dr. Rosen to Dr. Paquet.

“I wanted to thank you too, Dr. Paquet … you know for saving my life in surgery,” Sam extended his hand. The surgeon smiled and took Sam’s hand.

“I just cut and stitched Sam,” he assured. “You’re the one that pulled off the miracle. You saved yourself.” The doctor glanced at Dean and smiled. “Although, I think you may have had some help.” Dean dropped his eyes momentarily as Sam and the doctor’s looked at him. Sam gave a small laugh.

“Yeah, I know you’re right about that,” he popped his big brother on the shoulder with an open hand and a lopsided grin. Dean felt warm at the sight of his little brother’s lopsided dimpled grin.

Three Weeks Later, the Roadhouse

“Sam honey, I’m not talkin’ to a wall. I know you hear me,” Ellen complained as she watched Sam sweeping the floor in the main part of the roadhouse.

“I hear you,” Sam relented. “I can sweep a floor,” he groused.

“That’s not what Dr. Peters in town said. “He said nothing strenuous or labor intensive for another couple weeks.”

“I just can’t sit on my ass,” Sam offered bluntly. Ellen offered a rueful smile.

“That’s exactly what you can do, and will do,” she asserted. Dean walked into the main room through the swinging door that led from the kitchen carrying a box of beer from the freezer. It was Friday and they were always busy on Friday nights, so he was getting stocked before opening. He had felt compelled to help out around the roadhouse as much as Ellen would let him since he and Sammy had been staying. But, he knew Sam needed this right now, and as soon as he was ready to return to the open road he’d take his little brother out of here. “Let’s ask you’re brother,” Ellen threw a hard look to Dean. The eldest Winchester sibling glanced at his younger brother and saw the broom.

“Now, Sammy,” he began in a matter of fact voice. “I know you’re not stupid and you heard the same thing I did about what the doc said you shouldn’t be doing … and that includes sweeping and stuff. Damn just sit and relax while you can. I don’t need you setting back your recovery. Go talk geek stuff with Ash.”

“I heard that,” drifted into the main room of the roadhouse from the direction of Ash’s back room. Dean chuckled.

Dean walked over and took the broom from his brother’s hands with a sympathetic look. “Alright, I get it okay? You’re climbing the walls, but you gotta take it easy and maybe in a couple weeks the doc will be ready to loosen the reins a little.” Dean offered. Sam offered a reluctant nod.

“Sam, sweetie,” Ellen’s voice softened at the younger man’s crestfallen look. “How about you help me in the kitchen? How are you with a knife?” She asked with a glint in her eye. And, as Sam passed her to go into the kitchen she met eyes with Dean and winked. He mouthed a silent ‘thanks’ to her and went about finishing with stocking the beer.

A Month and a Half Later

“I don’t want you boys to be strangers, you hear me?” Ellen and Jo stood side by side as Dean finished closing the trunk to the Impala.

“We’ll call and touch base, I promise,” Sam offered.

“Yeah,” Dean came to stand next to his brother. “Yeah, we will.” Dean gave a small smile to Ellen and Jo. “Look,” he began. “Um, Ellen thanks for everything you know.” She understood that the thank you was for so much more than just letting them stay at the roadhouse. She smiled.

“No problem. You boys always have a place when you need it,” she paused. “You don’t need an excuse to come, okay? The door is always open.”

Both brothers nodded. She moved in quickly and gave them both a quick hug and pat on the back.

“Bye guys,” Jo replied.

“Yeah, bye Jo,” Dean answered. Sam simply smiled and nodded. “We’ll see ya around,” he offered lightly. “You ready Sammy,” Dean asked.

“Yep,” Sam answered opening the passenger door. “We promise to keep in touch Ellen,” he assured. He leaned in and offered the woman another hug as Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car. “Thanks for taking care of him,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled away. She patted him gently.

Dean looked over at Sam as they pulled away causing the dust to billow up around the car wrapping it in tendrils of fine dirt.

“You sure you’re ready?” Dean asked meeting his little brother’s eyes as the road opened up before them. He felt good to be back out on the road, but part of him was afraid for the next hunt whenever that occurred. He couldn’t handle it if something happened to Sam.

“I’m good,” Sam assured. “The doc said so.”

“I know what he said Sammy and it wasn’t exactly a free pass to run a marathon. You’re still supposed to hold off on running and major stuff for another month or so.”

“Look if you’re going to stress out on whether I’m ready to be out again then let’s just go back to the roadhouse until I can do everything.” Sam huffed. Dean sighed. He wanted to have Sam to himself for a change and he had missed that over the past couple months or so. First the hospital had him and then Ellen … sure he had taken care of most of Sam’s needs while they were at the roadhouse, but he hadn’t had Sam under his sole care and he missed it.

“No, I don’t want to go back there. Not for a while,” Dean assured. “We’ll just take it easy, okay? It’s just … Sam …” he pulled off onto the shoulder of the vacant road and put the car in park.

“Dean,” Sam stopped his brother from saying anything else. He looked at his big brother with warm soulful eyes. There was a long pause in the car and neither spoke. Sam bridged the gap of silence with an unexpected statement. “It wasn’t your fault.” Dean’s head jerked toward his brother at his words.

“Sammy,” Dean pushed out through his tight throat.

“No, Dean,” Sam replied. “I mean it. It wasn’t your fault. It happened and its over, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“I almost got you killed.”

“No, a wendigo almost killed me, but you killed it and even with a severe concussion you still shot that ugly mother with a flare gun and saved my ass.”

“Stupid luck,” Dean hissed.

“Luck had nothing to do with it Dean. I didn’t die in those woods because of you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But…”

“No but, Dean,” Sam smiled. There was another moment of silence. “I heard you that night you know or at least I think I did.” Sam’s sentence was out of context and Dean wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

“Heard what? What night?”

“I was in the dark, maybe it was a dream. You sounded really far away, but the more I concentrated on hearing you I could tell you were getting closer,” Sam looked at Dean and their eyes met. “You were telling me to fight, but what I remember came through the clearest was you asked me to stay … to stay for you.” Dean turned his face away suddenly as he felt hot tears stinging his eyes. And, his mind tried to process the fact that his little brother had heard him that night when he was near death. “Dean?” Sam studied his brother’s turned head. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice was rough as he held his emotions in check as much as he could.

“You sure?” Dean nodded and turned his face back toward his brother. Sam could see the glassy eyes, but no tears had broken free.

“I’m sure,” he smiled. “You ready?”

“I was born ready,” Sam quipped with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, you stealin’ my material little brother?” Sam laughed as his brother pulled back onto the road. Dean reached over and flipped Sam in the ear.

“Ouch,” He yelled as he rubbed his ear. “What the hell was that for?” It was Dean’s turn to laugh now.

“Don’t know,” he offered. “I figure I owe you for something I forgot about,” he offered with a wide grin.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Three hours later on the open highway Dean glanced at his sleeping brother and smiled. The brief thought that he could be looking at an empty seat right now sent a chill though him, but the cold was quickly dissipated because he hadn’t lost his light, he hadn’t lost his Sammy. The shadows in his soul drew back once again under the presence of his little brother and he accepted the warmth.