Bobby and Dean rushed to Sam's side. "No, dammit Sammy!" Dean felt for a pulse. "He's still alive."

There was so much blood...His younger brother's wrists were carved open all the way to his elbows. "Call an ambulance, Bobby," Dean sobbed. He put pressure on the wounds.

"Hang on, Sammy..."

As soon as Dean hung up to go find Sam, John had thrown his things in a duffel bag and jumped in his truck, headed straight to Bobby's house. He didn't care that it was the middle of the night. He didn't care that he was speeding. He needed to get there, needed to see his boys. This was all his fault...

An hour later, his phone rang. He answered it immediately. "Dean?"

"Dad," His son was clearly upset.

"Is he alright? What happened?"

"It's real bad. I don't know if he's gonna make it, Dad..." Dean's voice cracked. "He's in surgery right now."

John punched the steering wheel. "Damn it! I'm on my way."

*an hour later*

"Mr. Winchester?" It took Dean a moment to realize the doctor was talking to him. Mr. Winchester was his dad.

"Yeah, Doc. How is he?" He asked nervously.

"You're lucky you got him here so fast. He lost a lot of blood. We gave him a transfusion and we were able to repair the damage, he shouldn't have any lasting impairment."

"Thank God," Bobby breathed.

"We'll be keeping him here for a while. Suicide attempts require at least 48 hour observation. We suggest that you admit him to the psychiatric ward. I think he could benefit from therapy."

"Thanks Doc." Dean shook the doctor's hand. Suicide. Psychiatric ward. Therapy. It was all too much. He didn't know what to do. He didn't think normal therapy would help his brother. This wasn't exactly a normal situation. "Can we see him?"

"He's still under anesthesia, but I'll take you to his room."

Sam became aware of muffled voices and beeping. He could smell the recognizable antiseptic scent. He was in a hospital. Dammit. He was still alive. He struggled to open his eyes, and blinked against the harsh light. Along with the awareness of his surroundings came the awful burning sensations in his arms. He groaned.

"He's awake,"

Sam heard his brother's voice, sounding relieved.

"I'm right here, Sammy,"

Sam's blurry vision cleared and he saw Dean and Bobby standing above him, looking disheveled and worried.

He tried to move his arms, but they wouldn't budge. He glanced at them and saw that he was secured to the bed with restraints. Seriously?

"How ya feelin'?" Bobby asked

Sam opened his mouth, but no words came out. His throat was so dry. "Fine," He finally managed to croak. "Water?"

"Right, sorry." Dean reached over and grabbed a cup of water, guiding the straw into Sam's mouth.

He was surprised at how much energy it took to simply suck water out of a straw. He felt awful.

"Dean,"

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean touched his hand in a comforting gesture that was uncharacteristic of his tough, "no chick-flick moments" brother.

"I'm sorry." Sam couldn't even look him in the eye.

Dean looked like he was about to cry again, his red-rimmed eyes giving it away. "S'okay little brother." He coughed and cleared his throat. "But if you ever pull a stunt like this again, I will put you back in the hospital myself."

Sam laughed weakly.

*cough*

They all turned to look, and Sam was shocked to see his father standing in the doorway.

"Dad?"

The whole drive, John had been imagining what this moment would be like. But nothing prepared him for seeing his son strapped down to a hospital bed with thick bandages covering his arms from wrist to elbow.

"Dad?" Sam looked stunned.

John tried to smile, but his lips just twitched. He approached the bed. He struggled to find words, but nothing sounded right. "Why?" He whispered, a tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. He quickly brushed it away. He couldn't show weakness now. Not when his boys needed him the most.

Sam looked ashamed. "I don't know," He replied softly. "I'm sorry,"

That was a lie. There were so many reasons why, he just didn't feel like explaining it. He was so tired...

As he drifted back into unconsciousness, he realized that this was the first time he'd ever seen his father cry.

Dean looked scared. "Is he okay? Is that normal?" He looked to Bobby for answers.

"Yeah, he's fine. Boy's been through a lot. Let him sleep." Bobby glanced at John. "Dean, stay with your brother. I need a word with your dad."

Dean looked curious, but didn't ask.

Out in the hallway, Bobby resisted the urge to punch John Winchester square in the jaw. "Where the Hell have you been?"

"I'm so close to finding it, Bobby. The thing that killed Mary. It's a demon." John explained.

"And you couldn't bother to tell your boys about it?"

"It's too dangerous, I didn't want them getting hurt."

"Oh, you didn't? Well that turned out so well." Bobby's voice was rising.

John had the decency to look ashamed. "I didn't know he would do this. I didn't know he was hurting this bad."

"Bullshit! The kid lost the love of his life, you should know how that feels. You just didn't see it cause you weren't here!" Bobby was frustrated and angry. "It took one of your boys nearly killing himself to get you here."

"I'm not leaving them again."

"Good."

Dean could hear them arguing in the hall. He was glad Sam was out cold. Poor kid didn't need to hear it. He'd been through enough.

Dean stared at his little brother, feeling utterly helpless. It was his job to protect Sammy. It always had been. He felt like a failure as he studied his brother's thin frame, looking even smaller in the hospital bed.

He should have done something to prevent this.

John and Bobby walked back into the hospital room. Without speaking, John drew Dean into a hug. His son was surprised, and tensed at the unfamiliar touch. But he quickly relaxed into it, and the two men clung to each other for a moment.

"Are you okay?" John pulled away, and looked into Dean's eyes.

"Yes, sir." Dean answered too quickly, and averted his gaze.

"I'm asking you for the truth, son."

His father's searching eyes seemed to read his mind. Dean's thoughts were swirling. He was not okay. But he didn't know what to say. He shrugged. "No, not really."

John nodded. "Me neither. But we'll get through this. As a family."

Dean blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not leaving you again. We're gonna fight this battle together."

For the first time in a long time, Dean felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Maybe things would be okay.