Spoilers for 7x10

Yeah, how could I NOT write a tag to 7x10? It just screamed WRITE SOMETHING! So, here I am, again, with more angst and anguish and pain and loss. Hey, it's not my fault, talk to those damn writers! ;) I loved the episode, lots of emotions to choose from and lots of points of views to try and root around in. I hope you enjoy! There may be a second chapter but I'm not sure of that yet... ;)

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!

The shriek of the machine and its horizontal lines mock them, and has just served as the catalyst.

The boys both back away with tear stained faces, in shock at how one minute their mentor and friend had reached out to them, and the next lies motionless and still, a bluster and flurry of hospital staff around him because he… is… dead…

Both stand like statues, unmoving and so broken that if not for the body's automatic response, they wouldn't remember to draw another breath into their lungs.

One digs his thumb into the palm of his hand, as the fragile hold he has on Lucifer starts to splinter and he can't stop the laughter that rings through his ears. He digs and digs into his own flesh, desperate to make his tormentor fizzle out, desperate to hold him at bay.

One clenches his jaw and fists as the fragile hold he has on his facade of normalcy and 'fineness' starts to crack. His shell starts to splinter where he stands, the once almost invisible lines begin to open up and the crevices etched and woven deep within his skin start to split apart. All of the inside turmoil he has hidden underneath is just one micro fracture away from tumbling out of him to spill to the floor below.

"Time of death…."

It's not a micro fracture at all. It's a chasm. It gives way and the sudden transparency of his grief is thrust out of him, on display for anyone and everyone to see and hear.

He lets out a sound so heavy with pain and anguish, so guttural and animalistic that passers-by look to him with sympathy and heartfelt sadness.

He moves, slowly and methodically towards the curtained off area. His legs weigh a tonne and are sluggish and unsteady but he plods on, step by step.

He needs to see him. Needs to hold his hand while it is still warm. Needs to feel one last, final physical connection with him.

He stumbles through the threshold and eyes the fucking machine. The look on his face contains such indescribable loss and agony that the nurse closest to the monitor shuts it down before she and the other hospital staff clear a path for him. They fade into the background as he tunes out every single noise, choosing instead to focus only on the man he stands beside.

He breathes in a shaky breath.

Two nurses stay, they stand at the edge of the curtained off space to give this bereaved man as much privacy as possible.

A hand is held. A tear escapes. A heart breaks. A promise is made.

"So, guess you finally had enough of this shit life huh Bobby? Yeah, I guess I don't blame ya, it's a twisted, fucked up world. So, you just rest now and I'll take care of it."

He leans down and grounds out the words in a voice so low its octave almost doesn't register as sound at all.

"I swear to you Bobby, I'll get the SOB's that did this. I'll make sure I take as many of them out as I can before I… well, you know."

The nurses lock eyes across the room and one takes a step forward, concern forcing her movements at the desperate way this young man is talking, as the other heads back out to speak with the other nephew.

He doesn't see or hear their movements, just keeps on talking to the one person he thought would always be there, the one who he thought would never leave him.

He is so focused on jamming his thumb into the palm of his hand that he doesn't notice the approach of the nurse until she gently touches his arm. He lifts his tear filled gaze and she shows him the most sympathetic smile he has ever seen.

"Sam?"

He nods, knowing that it is the only acknowledgement he can give right now.

"Sorry to disturb you but I need you to come with me please. I'm… I'm worried about your brother."

His eyebrows knit at that. No shit lady, join the club.

"Wh.. why?"

"I don't like the way he is talking to your Uncle. I know he is grieving and that everyone has a different process for that, but… it sounds like more than just a goodbye. It sounds like he is going to do something drastic. To others…or to himself."

He gulps at the implication of her statement and follows the lead she has on his arm. As they approach the curtains, the nurse stops and says something to the person at the desk that he doesn't quite pick up on.

The intercom above them crackles to life.

"Code Grey Team to the ER please… Code Grey Team to the ER…"

As they begin to move again and approach his brother, he seems to have tuned everything and anything else out. His instincts should have kicked in to tell him that he has company but his gaze and focus remains on Bobby, his hand gripped tightly around the other man's.

"You heard my message right? Remember? When I thought you were dead the last time?"

A small chuckle intertwines itself with a sob and another tear.

"I meant it. If… if you're gone then… well, what's the point right? And yeah, I know, where will that leave Sam? But, he'll be just fine. Matter of fact, I'm damn proud of the kid."

Sam feels another round of wetness slide down his own cheeks at that statement.

"I mean, I don't know how he does it. After all that he has been through, he is actually, really at peace with things, with himself, and he'll beat that damn demon. Old Lucie ain't got nothing on my baby brother."

But Sam would be nothing without his brother, especially not now.

"He'll be fine, hell, he doesn't need me anymore, not really, and he pretty much said so. So don't worry okay? Who knows, maybe if I go out fighting the evil that God had wisely locked away for a reason, I'll be able to see you again. Thanks Bobby. You know for what."

He touches Bobby's forehead with such fondness and love that it makes the other onlookers in the room fight to keep back their own tears. They watch as he closes his eyes and a single tear tracks down his face. He gives the older man's hand one more squeeze before he wipes the moisture from his skin, breathes deeply and straightens up.

When his eyes open again, the hardened mask is there, whole and intact, reformed and rebuilt in record time.

One mission. One purpose. Revenge. And if he happens to die in a blaze of glory, all the better.

He turns to leave the bedside and flinches when he almost crashes directly into his younger brother. His eyes flicker to the nurse who stands close behind before his intense gaze burns its way into Sam's own.

"Oh hey Sammy. Uh, out of the way dude. I need a little alone time right now… okay?"

"No Dean, the last thing you need to be is alone."

"Oh, well I beg to differ. Besides, I'm not asking for your damn permission Sam. Now move."

"Look Dean. Just listen to me alright? You're pissed, I get it. Hell, I can see it on your face and I heard it in your voice. You are angry and hurt and feel like everything has just crumbled down on top of you. You aren't alone in that man, I feel it too."

"I don't want to hear this shit right now Sam. Bobby is dead and I got a job to do. End of story."

"You need to trust me. You are not thinking clearly and you need to just stop and take a damn breath before you go and do something stupid."

"Save the speech Sam. Christ, I'm not gonna do anything stupid, I just need to go and fix this."

"Okay, I hear you man, but you need to calm the hell down first. And then we will figure out a way to fix this. You need to leave? Fine, I'm with you on that, but I am coming. We can go have a good stiff drink or several if that's what you want, what you need, but you are not stepping out of this hospital without me."

He stands and waits out his older brother's next move even though he already knows what it will be. Dean tries to brush past him so he grabs him by his forearm as he passes by. He shouldn't be shocked by it, hell, he should damn well expect it by now, but still, he reels slightly at the sting of his brother's fist as it meets his chin.

But, it's the look of absolute devastation and anguish that flashes across Dean's features that allows him to brush it off and reach for him again.

"Let go of me Sam, I mean it! God, I'm… I'm sorry I punched you okay? And I know that you're hurting too but I need to deal with this alone in my own way. So, for the last time Sammy, please, get your hands off me!"

"No."

"Why can't you just let me grieve in my own way!"

"Because I know what that means Dean, I am not a damn idiot! I know you man and I know you'll go in guns blazing and to hell with coming out of it alive!"

Movement outside pries the younger brother away from the heated debate that rages between them to flash towards the nurse's station in the centre of the floor. A male nurse begins to approach and only then does Sam realize the other nurse is no longer in their room. He has got a bad, bad feeling about this.

"Everything okay in here? Sir? Are you alright?"

"Fuckin peachy, just a ray of fricken sunshine I am."

"I can see you are agitated but violence isn't going to help your situation. You need to calm down."

"Funny, there must be an echo in here. I hear that a lot but I'm actually the poster boy for calmness right now. Trust me, you'd know if I wasn't. Listen man, sorry about all the ruckus, and I already apologized to little brother here about the love tap. Just been a rough night you know what with the DEATH OF MY UNCLE! Oops, did I sound upset just then? What the fuck do you expect! Look, no need to get your panties in a twist, I was just leaving."

Sam watches his brother's chest start to heave as he is once again stopped by a hand on his arm, only this time it isn't Sam who has stopped him. He takes a step forward and hopes that Dean will have some common sense left in his scrambled head so he doesn't decide to take a swipe at the man who stands between him and the door.

"Well, I think it would be for the best if you take a seat for a minute so we can talk."

Dean shrugs out of the man's hold and gives him his best glare.

"Well lucky for me that I don't give a flying fuck what you think asshole so lay off. Touch me again and I'll break your damn hand. Got it?"

Sam eyes up the situation and another lump forms in his throat. There are now four more large, imposing men standing at the nurse's station and they are all focused on them. Or rather, on his brother.

He leans in and speaks low towards his brother's ear.

"Dean, you better play nice and do what he says. I think you've stirred up a lot of undue attention. Just sit down for one minute. Okay?"

A huff of frustration and a patented eyeroll.

"For the love of… fine Sam, and then I am getting the fuck out of here. Okay dude, let's have a chat."

Sam is unnerved by it. Dean doesn't really seem to have clued in to their current situation. He watches as the two men make their way from Bobby's room to a row of chairs along the wall. Sam scans the area as his brother sits down and it doesn't go by Sam's attention that there now seems to be only a skeleton staff and limited movement in their vicinity. Shit. They've tried to clear out the area as much as possible, like they are preparing for a fight. And damn it all if Dean seems none the wiser.

"So chuckles, what would you like to discuss? I'll tell you up front that if you're gonna give me the 'sorry for your loss' speech it'll be a waste of breath and time for both of us. You can skip it, I ain't in the mood for bullshit. No matter how sugary sweet the packaging, it still tastes and smells like ass."

The nurse eyes the tremors in his brother's legs, the agitated and high speed fidget that he has in his hands and the tell tale signs of someone who is festering and ready to erupt like a volcano. Someone who needs to do something, anything, to make the pain go away.

"Dean, you seem like someone who likes to have people cut to the chase."

"No shit Sherlock. Well? While I'm young okay, I got things to do and people to see."

"Okay. But I need you to be honest. Is it true that you punched the glass out of one of the display boards earlier today?"

Sam takes a seat beside his brother and looks at the side of his face before his eyes track to his brother's hand. Shit.

"Dean?"

"No biggie Sam. Just some douchebag who went on and on about Bobby and organ donation. I mean come on, organ donation? Pretty ballsy when Bobby was still FUCKING BREATHING! Should have figured him for the squirly, run to the teacher and tell on me type."

"He only brought this to our attention because of your reaction. Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Christ, are you fucking serious? I didn't hit the dude did I? Jesus, is this what all the drama is about? If you need me to pay for the glass then fine but come on, don't make more out of that than there is. That dude pissed me off so I reacted. The end."

"Okay, well, you were also overheard making some statements that have us concerned about your safety. We are worried about what you may do to yourself if you walk out of here right now. You have been through a shock and as much as you would like me to believe that you are calm and able to handle it, your body is telling me the exact opposite."

He reaches into his scrubs pocket and produces two small pills.

Both Winchesters eye the pills and the man who holds them.

"What the fuck are those?"

"I want you to take these. Trust me, they will take the edge off and help calm your nerves. We feel you need to stay here and get some rest. Just for a day or two until you have had a chance to absorb what has happened."

Okay, he needs to get his brother out of here. Now.

Dean stands before either the nurse or Sam can bat a single eyelash. The nurse rises up from his own seat and lays a hand on Dean's shoulder. The older brother tries to shrug out of the hold but this time, the grip is firm so he instead stands face to face with the meddling bastard.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I know what happened! You think drugging me up is going to make this shit day better? Bring Bobby back to life? HUH? You think doping me up to the gills and keeping me here against my will is going to fix or change the fact that BOBBY IS DEAD!"

Sam eyes movement and notices the other men are slowly stalking their way over to the more and more volatile scene. He needs to do something before Dean can't hold back anymore and strikes out at whoever is in the way.

"Dean, please. Just… stop. Look…"

His plea falls on deaf ears as Dean's body posture changes and he adopts his familiar fight stance. His eyes are glossed over with emotion and he is keeping his body rigid and it looks like it is ready to snap.

Sam swallows, hard. You back his brother up into a corner and the only cooperation you will get is defiance and rage. He can hear the ragged breaths and see the shakiness consume his brother as he stands.

"I don't need your magic pills and I sure as hell don't need you to treat me like a five year old who just lost their puppy! It's simple alright? Bobby? He doesn't deserve to be dead! YOU HEAR ME! JUST ANOTHER PERSON WHO IS DEAD BECAUSE OF ME!"

Sam grabs the arm of the nurse and realizes his mistake a moment too late. The other men are coming fast now. He looks to the man who still holds a tight grip on Dean.

"Let it go man. Let us leave. Don't do this. Please."

He sees the answer in the nurse's eyes before he hears it. They think Dean is going to kill himself and they are not about to let him out of here to do just that.

"Sorry Sam but your brother is a danger to himself and although we prefer that he stays willingly, he will still stay."

"I ain't staying. And you can't make me."

Sam faces the flurry of men that have now flanked them on all sides.

"Stop this! Please! Look, I can take care of Dean. You need to back off. He doesn't need your drugs and the last thing he needs is to stay here. He'll be fine, I will make sure of that."

"You heard the man. That's my brother and he knows what I need and it sure as hell doesn't come from pills or from you! Come on Sam, you win, let's get out of here and get that drink, this dick is pissing me the hell off."

"Dean. Please, for your own sake, take the pills."

Chaos and commotion swirl around them as Dean's answer makes its way out of him through the form of fists and fury, as the last perilous hold of control he had is stripped away and he does anything and everything he can to get away.

Sam fights and claws his way to his brother, desperate to get him away from this fucking gong show. He switches to autopilot and into overdrive when he sees a female nurse rush over with a fucking needle in her hand to pass it over to the asshole that has hold of one of his brother's legs. Hell no, the are not going to stick him with that shit.

It's weird really, the affect that adrenaline has on a man. He grabs hold of the appendage that wields that damn needle and twists it back until he gets a groan of agony from its owner. The needle is dropped and quickly smashed under his heel. A well placed punch later and Sam throws threat number one out of the fray to be left winded and fighting for consciousness in a heap on the floor.

One by one he peels away the layers of obstacles that stand between him and his need to get to his brother. In the end, when Dean finally seems to emerge from the tangle of limbs, he is shaking and looks to be on the edge of oblivion himself.

"Dean?"

The eyes flutter open and Sam can't help but smile as the green within finally focuses on him. He reaches a hand out and feels a less than firm grip grasp his own.

"Sam... huh, looks like you took out the whole team..."

"Yeah, couldn't just stand by while they pummelled you."

"As if dude, I was just about to show them my Chuck Norris moves when you got in the way."

"Yeah sure, whatever. Come on, we gotta go, I'm pretty sure they called the cops. Besides, I could really use a drink."

Dean wavers as he is pulled to a standing position, ignores the mix of unconscious men scattered on the floor and fixates once again on where he last saw Bobby. Sam's heart clenches for the millionth time and he gently squeezes his brother's shoulder before he slowly turns him around and leads him to the exit.

Sam looks to the nurse who had brought him to his brother earlier and although she has a glazed over look of astonishment from what she has just witnessed, she also has the fresh mark of tears on her face. She smiles sadly to him as he walks by where she stands and closer still to their escape.

He needs to shift his hold as he feels the weight of his brother's frame increase more and more, the tension of the fight and the events that brought them here in the first place making him stagger and stumble as his body and mind start to give out. Choked sobs start to quiver through him and Sam can do nothing more than tighten his grip on the man who has lost so much.

"Sam... Bob... Bobby's..."

"I know Dean, I know. But I'm still here and I've got you big brother, always..."

Thanks for reading.