Summary:  Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a Wendigo, and though everything starts out fine, nothing ever ends that way for the Winchesters.
A/N:  I had this idea while sitting in my dad’s truck staring at the scenery around me… There was this tree right there in front of me, that made me think, what if?
And as always I need to thank my wonderful beta, who I actually shocked a little with this chapter... Thanks goes to whimseyrhodes, for putting up with my stubborn ass... Thank you!!
Disclaimer:  I own nothing except the pretty little butterflies that swarm in my stomach every time I see Jensen and Jared on the screen, and the swoon that I have perfected at Jared’s puppy dog expression.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief and gently laid Sam’s stretcher down. Caleb and Bobby stood in front of him, both men holding their hands out in front of them in the universal sign of peace. Walking around to Sammy’s side he dropped to his knees to check on the younger Winchester.

Dean felt Bobby and Caleb come up behind him, and both settled to their knees on either side of him. “How’s he doin’ Dean?” Caleb asked, trying to see what he could do to help the two younger hunters.

“Not too good," Dean said as he sadly watched his brother, "the Wendigo got a hold of him back there, and knocked him into a tree. A branch impaled his lower abdomen and he took a pretty good hit to the head. Then we took a fall down a hill last night after it started raining, and the branch moved inside of him. On top of that he took a pretty good hit to the head, and there are some deep gashes.” Dean relayed tiredly. He knew that Sammy wasn’t doing well, and that it was only a matter of time, before his time was up.

“God,” Bobby breathed, and Dean turned to give him a tired smile, that told the older man that was exactly how he felt. ‘Oh well, at least the thing didn’t try to strangle him… Sam’s had enough of the stupid Supernatural fetish with his throat.’ Dean chuckled ruefully at his thoughts, ignoring the concerned looks from the two men next to him.

“You’re not looking so good yourself, Dean.” Caleb said quietly, and Dean snorted.

“I’m doing a hell of a lot better than he is. What is it with everything wanting to take a swing at him? Does he really have a neon sign over his head that says, ‘C’mon, all things bent on revenge, big or small, come take a swing at me, it hurts when I fall!’ Cause if he does, I need to know, so I can knock it right out of him. This getting hurt crap is getting old!” Dean exclaimed, knowing that he sounded crazy but at the same time not caring in the least.

“I know, son, I know it is. But right now we can’t think about that,” Bobby said, his voice calming, and Dean looked up at him. “Right now we have to think about Sam, and the help he needs.”

“Yeah,” Dean said softly and looked back to his brother, checking his pulse and his breathing. Neither was very good, but Dean was just happy at the moment that his little brother had a pulse, though weak; and that he was breathing, albeit gasping breaths, but he was still breathing.

“C’mon Dean-o. Let’s get your wrist splinted, and get moving. We’re pretty close to the car, and when we get there, I have cell reception, so we can call an ambulance for Sammy.” Dean nodded, too worn out to argue or think of a petulant remark about Caleb’s nickname.

Caleb watched Dean worriedly. He knew the younger hunter was hurting, and concern for his brother practically poured from every pore. As he splinted Dean’s wrist, the younger man never once took his eyes off of his brother, and he didn’t make a sound. Caleb didn’t know which fact worried him more; that Dean wasn’t in pain anymore, or the possibility that Sammy was dying.

“Let’s get moving,” Bobby said once Dean’s wrist was securely in place. The oldest hunter went over to the makeshift stretcher Dean had made, and picked it up, readying himself to drag the youngest member of their “hunting family.”

Caleb nodded, and helped Dean to his feet, pulling the younger man’s arm around his neck to steady him, when he swayed. They trudged along, Caleb and Dean in front, while Bobby pulled Sam along behind them. Dean turned to look at Sam every few minutes, just to make sure his little brother was still breathing.

They had been walking for three quarters of an hour when the trees started to thin, and through the trees, Dean could see Caleb’s Explorer, with his Impala parked only a couple feet to the right of it. They kept stumbling toward the two vehicles, knowing that the sooner they got there, the sooner there was cell reception, and the sooner they could get help for the two remaining Winchesters.

Caleb and Dean reached the black SUV, and Caleb leaned Dean up against the side of it while he walked to the driver’s side door, and reached across the seat to get his cell phone. “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” A quirky voice asked from the other end.

“A couple friends of mine and I were hunting last night, and we got cornered by a bear, to make matters worse, we also took a slide down a hill, and two of my friends aren’t doing very good right now. I think one of them may be dying, we need an ambulance right now, at the edge of Blue Eye Forest, the north entrance to the trails,” Caleb told the woman, hoping she would get help to the fast from the tone of voice he had used.

“Dispatchers will be there as soon as they can, sir. Are you hurt in any way?” The woman asked, her voice showing fake concern, and Caleb had to bite back a growl.

“No, I’m not, but if someone isn’t here soon, one of the two that are injured may not make it. So please hurry,” Caleb finished, and pushed the END button on his cell phone. He looked over to Dean, who had been watching the phone exchange with a small smirk on his face. “What are you lookin’ at?” He growled, and Dean laughed.

“Nothing,” Dean said and looked away from him. The younger hunter’s attention was immediately drawn to his brother again, and Caleb sighed, knowing that he should have kept Dean’s attention focused on himself for at least a little while longer. Worrying about Sam was just going to make him sick, and Caleb didn’t want Dean sick on top of everything else.

Dean watched Sam intently, making sure that nothing wrong was happening. His little brother was slowly but surely dying, and Dean couldn’t stop that by himself, but he could watch the younger man to make sure that nothing else went wrong until help arrived.

Sam’s breathing had gotten harsher during the walk out of the forest, and his pulse had become more and more faint; so much so that Dean was afraid it would stop all together if he didn’t watch his brother constantly. His baby brother was getting paler by the second, and Dean could almost see the slow spreading stain getting bigger on the makeshift bandages around his stomach.

The gash near his eye had long since stopped bleeding, and it looked as if the long, deep cut in his side had slowed down to a trickle. Dean was grateful that at least something was healing on his brother, though all that led to was the fact that, Sam had been out all night without having his wounds cleaned; and the possibility of infection was running at an all time high for the youngest Winchester.

Dean was drawn out of his reverie by a shout of his name from Bobby. He turned and looked over at the man, trying to see what he was yelling about, and was stunned to see Sammy’s eyes open to slits. He started to stumble his way over to his little brother, and Caleb was soon at his side, helping him over to the youngest of the group, knowing that Dean had to be with his brother, that it would help out both Winchesters by just being in close proximity to each other.

“Dean?” Sam asked, his voice cracked and low, as Dean made his way to his side.

“I’m here Sammy,” Dean whispered, grabbing the younger man’s hand.

“Dean, wha’ happened?” Sam’s voice was full of confusion, and the knot in Dean’s chest tightened, not liking the tone Sam was using at all. It couldn’t be good that Sam didn’t remember what had happened to get him into this predicament, but Dean wasn’t sure if he saw it as a bad thing, or a good thing that Sam didn’t know what had gone down the night before.

“You took a hard hit Sammy. You’re hurt pretty bad,” Dean told him slowly, his thumb unconsciously making small, soothing circles on the back of Sam’s hand.

Sam nodded, but the glaze of confusion never left his eyes. “M’okay tho-, it doesn’t hurt.” Sam told Dean to alleviate the elders’ worry, but if anything it made Dean worry more, knowing that a lot of pain was better than no pain in Sam’s situation.

“That’s good Sammy,” Dean told him, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall, as he watched his brother slowly slip away from him. Sam coughed then, it was low, and hard; gut wrenching. His face twisted in pain, and Dean tightened his grip on Sam’s hand, to hold onto his brother, offering comfort to himself just as much as Sam.

Sam continued coughing, the agonizing bursts of air ripping through him, bring his already weakened body, more pain. As Sam finished, his lifted his hand away from his mouth, gasping as little shocks of pain ran through him, even after the coughing subsided.

Dean looked on in horror as the hand that Sam pulled away from his mouth, came back speckled in blood. “Dean, hurts,” Sam gasped, his eyes starting to close.

“Sammy, stay with me little brother, c’mon don’t you do this, you stay with me.” Dean yelled, concern for his brother flying above all standards. Sam paid no heed to his calls, as his eyes closed completely. Dean could just hear the approaching wail of sirens as the thready pulse beneath his fingers stopped…

‘Sammy!’

“Sam? Sammy?” Dean called, trying to get a response, any response out of his brother. “C’mon little brother, don’t you do this! Don’t you leave me!”

Sam just laid there in his brother’s arms, his whole body still, not even the rhythmic chest movements to indicate breathing appeared, and Dean screamed. The keening had anger, and absolute fear melded into it.

Laying Sam gently down, Dean pushed Caleb and Bobby away from him, not wanting either man to touch his little brother. He was afraid of anything and everything that presented a risk to his brother, and at that moment, the list included Bobby and Caleb.

Placing his good hand on Sam’s chest, Dean started pushing down, counting to himself the whole time, as he whispered reassurances to his brother, and to himself.

“C’mon little brother, you can do it,” Dean said as he counted to fifteen compressions.

“Please Sammy, just breathe!” Dean tilted Sam’s head back and plugging his nose, Dean breathed for his little brother. Pulling back the elder Winchester waited for something, anything to tell him that Sammy was breathing.

Nothing…

Dean faintly heard the scream of sirens, as the ambulance came to a stop fifteen feet away from them, but he continued to work on Sam, letting his concentration linger on nothing else but his little brother.

‘…14…15… C’mon Sammy, BREATHE!’

Dean was pulled away from his brother, by unknown hands, just as he finished the breath; and he fought against those invading hands, and paramedics bent down to help his brother. “Dean, it’s okay, let the medics do their work,” Dean heard Bobby say from somewhere to his left. “Let them help Sammy,” the last part deflated Dean, and he sunk into Caleb’s waiting arms, having no strength left to hold himself up.

“No respiratory signs,” the male medic called out.

“No cardio activity either!” The woman called back, as she opened her bag, and took out a small defibrillator; as her partner placed a clear oxygen mask, with a see through blue bag attached to it, over Sam’s mouth. She checked his signs again, and called out, “Damn it, he’s looking hypoxic!”

The woman placed defibrillation patches on Sam’s chest and mid abdomen, each with a wire leading off of it to the small defibrillator next to her. “Charging to two hundred,” she called and the man lifted the bag off Sam’s face.

“Clear,” he called and Sam’s body jerked, the electricity ripping through it. When Sam settled, the oxygen mask was resettled over his mouth and nose, and the female medic once again checked for vital signs, hooking up a portable heart monitor to his finger. When there were no signs once again, the medic shook her head, and prepared the shock Sam again.

“Charging to 250,” the woman called, once again unhooking the monitor, while the man pulled the mask off Sam’s unresponsive face.

“Clear,” he called, and the woman nodded, before pushing the button once again to shock the young man who lay so still in front of her. Sam’s body jerked again, and Dean flinched as if he had been physically slapped, just from watching his brother.

‘…C’mon Sammy, please!’

“We’ve got a sinus bradycardia, with forty beats a minute,” the woman called out after a minute, and Dean once again looked to his brother, who had not moved, with the exception of the jerks that had been forced through him with the electric current flowing through him.

“We have to get him to the hospital, there isn’t anything else we can do for him here, Kara,” the male medic told the woman, ‘Kara,’ after a minute.

“Don’t you think I know that Jo?” Kara asked her partner, her tone displaying anger and exasperation. The man nodded, knowing that he shouldn’t argue with her when the man in front of them was hanging precariously on the edge of life and death.

“Do you think you two could focus on my brother right now, and quit your bickering,” Dean asked, and both medics turned to look at him, both of their jaws dropping at the state he was in, and yet he was still standing.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Kara stuttered, telling Jo to load Sam into the ambulance, as she stood up to help Dean. Dean shrugged her off, or tried to, more intent on Sammy getting help, than helping himself. “You need to get help too, you won’t be any good to your brother if you pass out,” Kara told him softly, and Dean glared at her, making her shrink back away from him, before he nodded, seeing her logic, though he was loathe to admit it.

“Fine,” he growled, and let Kara lead him over to the ambulance, and sit him down on the gate. As she moved him, Jo moved Sam over on the stretcher he had been attached to. He loaded Sam into the ambulance, and looked to Kara, his expression asking if she was ready to leave.

“Hand me a splint, he needs to keep his hand stable on the ride over.” Jo nodded and turned around, grabbing a box near his foot. He picked it up and ripped it open, handing the splint that had been resting inside over to Kara. “Thanks,” She mumbled as she set to work, splinting Dean’s hand.

As soon as Dean’s hand and wrist were splinted, Jo reached a hand toward the oldest Winchester to help him up into the back of the ambulance. Dean swallowed his annoyance at being the center of attention, when Sammy clearly needed more help than he did; and grabbed the offering hand.

Kara closed the door behind him, ran around to the front of the ambulance, and hauled herself up into the driver’s seat. “Everyone ready?” She called through the little window between the cab and the back of the ambulance.

“All good,” Jo called back, and she nodded, not bothering to tell the other two men that had been with the Winchesters anything, as she took off for hospital. She was on autopilot as she drove, her heart clenching at the serious injuries that the young man had. The injuries that both brothers had.

“God,” she whispered, her breath leaving her lungs in a long whoosh, “what the hell happened to those boys?”

Dean watched Sam the whole way to the hospital, not willing to let his little brother out of his sight for a second. His brother could be dying, and while he knew this, he wasn’t willing to just let it happen. So Dean watched…

Watched for any sign that Sammy was uncomfortable…

For anything that told him that Sammy was going to leave him forever…

Watching his baby brother struggle to hold onto his life…

As Dean watched, Sam’s chest rose evenly, and the heart monitor displayed a sporadic rhythm. As he watched, Sam’s breath stuttered, and then there was no rise of his chest, and the heart monitor wailed.

‘Oh God…’

“He’s flat lining again!” Jo yelled to Kara, who turned around in her seat quickly to see what was happening.

“We’re pulling into the ER Ambulance port now, so just hold on.” Kara called back, as she turned back around to steer the ambulance into the port.

Doctors and nurses were waiting for the ambulance to come to a stop, knowing there were two cases behind the doors, and that at least one of them was critical. The doors opened as soon as the vehicle came to a full stop, and Sam’s stretcher was pulled out of

the ambulance, wailing monitor and all.

Dean tried to follow Sam, but found that even though he wanted to, his appendages wouldn’t respond to his demands. Two sets of hands helped him to his feet, and then down out of the back of the ambulance, but that was where Dean’s small movements stopped.

He tried to answer the questions that they were asking him, and he tried to walk with their help to the doors that weren’t even ten feet in front of him… Tried, being the operative word. Dean took one step with the help of the two paramedics on either side of him, and then collapsed to the ground, as the exhaustion from the last day and a half, and his injuries caught up with him.

The last thing that Dean saw before falling into the waiting darkness, was Sam being wheeled behind closed doors… Then all he saw was black.

Bobby and Caleb drove recklessly behind the ambulance that was holding two of their hunting ‘family,’ members. Worry coursed through both of them, making their movements unusually out of touch. Each man was thinking the same thing, and it showed through both sets of eyes.

‘…What if Sammy doesn’t make it…and what if Dean’s hurt worse than he let on?’

Both men shoved the thoughts away, trying to keep up moral for the other sitting in the Explorer. Neither man wanted to think what might happen if they lost either or both Winchesters, but the thoughts weighed heavily on each of their minds anyway.

Caleb parked the Explorer, and both men ran towards the ambulance port, hoping that they could find out what was going on with Sam and Dean. When they got to the boys, Sammy was being wheeled away, and two men were helping Dean down out of the ambulance.

Caleb and Bobby watched as Dean fell to the ground, his strength and adrenaline finally leaving him, and both men ran for him. They were beat to the punch to help Dean, as the two men that had been helping Dean since he had arrived, caught Dean and called for a stretcher; not sure that Dean could or should be moved around at that point.

“What’s going on?” Bobby gruff voice carried over to the two men holding Dean.

“I’m sorry sir, but at the moment we don’t know. We’re going to check him out, but for now why don’t you go and sit in the waiting room?” the man on Dean’s left side asked, his voice too chipper to be real. Both Bobby and Caleb shot him questioning glances, having never been to that hospital before, neither of them knew where the waiting room was.

“Kim will take you to the waiting area,” the second paramedic supplied, and both Bobby and Caleb nodded as a petite, young, brown haired nurse came over to them, ready to take the men where they needed to go.

“Well, let’s get a move on shall we?” The young nurse asked, smiling widely at Caleb, who grinned back; momentarily forgetting about Dean and Sam.

“Yes, let’s,” Caleb answered back, and winked at the young nurse, causing her to blush.

Trailing behind them, Bobby groaned, wishing that for once Caleb could keep his focus off a girl, and on the situation. Dean and Sammy were more important than some one night stand with a pretty little nurse, and Bobby just hoped that one day Caleb would see that before it was too late.

Dean woke to blindingly white walls, and the repetitive sound of a heart monitor beeping. The smell of disinfectant was harsh all around him, and Dean groaned, knowing that he was in a hospital.

‘…God, I hate these places…’

Pulling himself up into a sitting position, Dean grimaced as dizziness and pain swept over him. Pain radiated from his wrist, where he had placed it down on the bed to help himself sit up; and dizziness swamped his mind, as the concussion took offense to his movement.

“Ah, my head,” he ground out, trying to stave off the pain and the swirling that seemed to have taken up residence in his head. He thought for a moment as he kept his eyes closed, on why he was here.

‘…What happened?’

As if a barrier in his mind had been broken, images and little snippets of conversations shot through his head. ‘Sam…Sammy- he was hurt!’

Dean fumbled around for the call button, needing to know something, anything about his brother. If he was still even alive.

A nurse came in a few minutes later, and had the situation been different, she would definitely have been someone that Dean would have hit on. “What can I help you with?” She asked, and looked at him expectantly.

“My brother, where is he?” Dean asked, his voice breathless and hoarse. “Is he okay?”

The nurse looked uncomfortable at him, and Dean’s heart clenched, not knowing if it was just the fact that she didn’t know what had happened to Sam, or that she did know, and didn’t want to tell him. Dean prayed that it was the first option, not having the strength to be without Sam.

“I don’t know much of anything about your brother, honey,” she told him, and Dean wanted to strangle her, he was nobody’s honey! “All that I do know, is that Sam is in the ICU right now; I can have his doctor paged if that would help?” Dean had to refrain from snarling at the poor girl, she was so ignorant.

“Yes, that would help a lot.” Dean managed to ground out, without yelling at her.

The nurse smiled, and dramatically nodded, again making Dean just want to strangle her. She turned around and practically bounced out of the room, all the while humming to herself.

Dean’s dark thoughts soon turned to concern and dread, as he thought about what had happened to Sam. For all he knew his little brother was dying, and right now he didn’t even want to think about that possibility.

‘God Sammy, you better be okay…’

Dean watched the door to his room anxiously, waiting for Sam’s doctor to come and tell him exactly what was wrong with Sammy. The thought of his little brother lying all alone up in the ICU made Dean shudder, and he pushed the thoughts of Sam away.

A soft knock on his door caused Dean’s attention to shift to the opening, and he found himself dreading what the man there had to say. “Dean Winchester?” The man asked, and Dean nodded, a knot tying itself in the pit of his stomach. “I’m Dr. Sinclair, how are you Dean?” He asked, and Dean wanted to growl at him, to tell him to get to his brother, and how he was doing.

“I’m good, how’s Sam?” He asked, not wanting to seem rude, but at the same time, not caring what he had to do to find out what had happened to Sam.

“Your brother is in critical condition right now,” Dr. Sinclair said after a short pause. When Dean looked at him, and with a shift of his hand, told the man to continue, Sinclair took a deep breath and went on. “When he was brought in, he was in the progressive stage of hypovolaemic shock, which means that his organs were starting to fail, due to the loss of blood that he suffered.

“We had to intravenously give him blood. Due to Sam’s rare blood type, we only had two units on hand, and right now we’re looking for more, because Sam needs as-” Dean cut the man off before he could get out another word.

“We’re the same blood type. Could I give it to him?” Dean asked, and the man looked shocked.

“AB negative?” The man asked, his tone belaying the fact that he didn’t believe two of the patients in the same hospital had the same rare blood type.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, whenever one of us is hurt really bad, we usually end up donating blood for the other.” Dean told the man matter-of-factly, as if it were a common known fact, something that had happened a lot.

Dr. Sinclair looked at him skeptically. “I suppose you would be able to donate to your brother, if you have enough yourself.” Sinclair told Dean, and Dean smiled at the thought that he may be able to do something for his brother after all.

“Well then doc, test me all you want to; and I’ll tell you right now that by the end of the day, Sammy will have some of his big brother running through his veins if I have anything to say about it!” Dr. Sinclair chuckled, and smiled at the young man, ruefully shaking his head as he walked out the door.

An hour later, Dean had a rubber tourniquet wrapped around his arm, and he was squeezing a stress ball in his left hand, as blood flowed from a tube hooked into the crook of his elbow.

Dean still hadn’t been allowed to see Sam, but he was glad that there was something that he could do to help. It had been a little touchy for a while, with the doctors skeptical about even letting him give blood, with the trauma that his own body had suffered, but Sammy wasn’t the only one with puppy dog eyes…

‘I got ‘em too,’ Dean thought with a smirk. He had used his own broken and pleading expression when the nurse had come in the room, and when he had found out that his own doctor was a mother of two boys around the same age as Sam and himself… Well it was no problem to get her to let him give blood to save his brother.

With a promise to stay in bed, and not challenge any of the nurses’ or her orders, the aging woman had let him give blood. Dean had kept his promise so far, not moving from the bed that he had been assigned to, and he had eaten the lunch that the nurse had brought grudgingly. The food had been awful, but he had forced it down, willing to do anything to help his baby brother.

“How are you?” Dr. Scarlet, Dean’s doctor, asked as she breezed into the room with a hunching young nurse following behind her closely.

“I’m okay.” Dean answered quickly, knowing not to tell the nurse that he was fine, her mothering instincts would catch onto that little white lie in an instant. In truth, even though Dean was happy to be helping Sammy out, he needed his own recovery time, but he wasn’t about to tell the nurse or his doctor that for fear that they wouldn’t let him help Sam, something he desperately needed to do.

Dr. Scarlet looked at him critically, as if to assess if he was telling the truth or not, and turned away with a sigh. “Fine,” she breathed and nodded to the nurse to unhook Dean from the IV, before turning to face him once again.

“When can I see my brother?” Dean asked before she could say a word.

“Not just yet,” she breathed, not wanting to tell her patient that he couldn‘t see his brother, but not really having a choice in the matter either. “There’s two men outside that have been bugging the nurse’s station since you came in. Do you want to see them?” She asked, deciding to change the subject to get the young man in front of her to stop thinking about his brother. Her tone indicated that she would gladly either let them in, or throw them out of the room, if only to get rid of their distraction.

“Let ‘em in.” Dean said quietly, knowing that she wanted to be rid of them, and having a feeling that even if he didn’t let them in, Caleb and Bobby would find a way in anyway. They were annoying and loyal that way.

Dr. Scarlet nodded, as she placed a fresh gauze pad over the hole from the IV needle and taped it in place. “Alright then, but if you wear yourself out, I’m shooing the both of them out.” She told him seriously, and Dean knew she meant to do it too.

“Thank you ma’am,” he said quietly as she walked out the young nurse in front of her, and he saw the faint smile quirk her lips.

“You're welcome Dean,” she said softly as the door shut behind her.