Don't Let Go

Summary: After Dean is critically injured in the final meeting with Castiel, Sam suffers the not knowing if his brother will live or die. On top of dealing with the return of all his memories, the guilt over Dean's injuries, he's also given the choice that no one wants to make. Angsty/grief-stricken!Sam / Injured!Dean

Warnings: Bad language, nothing serious. I'm tossing a tissue warning in here too just to be safe since I cried pretty much the whole first part. There may also be a descriptive scene in describing how Dean was hurt but I also tried not to go too far with that but I'm warning for most things I can think of.

Spoilers/Tags: Mentions of various events from previous seasons with tag to and spoilers for 6-22, The Man Who Knew Too Much (I try not to have spoiled too much but the warning is up.) There have been changes for the end of the Finale but just from the point where it left off.

Characters: Dean and Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Missouri Mosley and….others

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or anything. Just using them for entertainment purposes.

Author Note: After writing Nightmares I had this little plotlet come at me. While loosely similar to Nightmares this one is not connected to that and no other reading is needed.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPNChapter 1

"Get the Triage and Trauma teams ready! Have surgery prepared, we'll need X-rays, CT-scans, type and cross-match him! Possible spinal trauma, head injury…skull fracture…may be too excessive…"

The words of the various medical personal that were all gathering around his brother was making Sam Winchester more on edge than he already was.

Fingers tightening into a fist, it was hard not to react violently when one intern pulled a shattered arm a bit too hard in Sam's opinion but a quick grab to his belt kept him standing where he was until he caught sight of a short blond nurse with a pair of scissors.

"No!" breaking from the desk where he'd been banished after he'd already threatened several staff when they'd taken Dean from him, he grabbed the offending item before she could cut the black band off his brother. "You…you can't cut that. He'll want it when he wakes up," he murmured more quietly, ignoring the wary stares of the staff in order to carefully remove both the silver ring and the black band from around his older brother's limp and broken wrist. "I'll keep them."

"Sam!" a sharp voice reluctantly took him back to the desk even though every ounce of him screamed to fight to stay with Dean…in case his brother woke up and needed him but he knew that was out of the question, considering he was lucky not to have been kicked out of the hospital already.

Bobby Singer eyed the boy cautiously for a moment longer before returning his attention to the way too perky nurse at the desk who was asking questions that the older hunter knew Sam wouldn't or couldn't answer.

"How did you nephew get injured again, Mr. Singer?" of course the questions from the ever present police weren't making the on edge young hunter any easier so Bobby was covering both situations as best as he could while praying that Sam didn't fly off the damn handle again on the staff.

Turning from trying to figure out the admitting forms and medical history, Bobby eyed the young cop that had come along with the EMTs when it was made clear that he and Sam couldn't possibly move Dean. He just wasn't certain what story to tell the cops since he knew he sure couldn't tell them the truth without having both himself and Sam locked up.

"Storm blew up too fast and it took out the car. Didn't think the boy was hurt too bad so we took shelter in that abandoned house when I guess a mini twister or something hit and he was slammed around more," Bobby prayed the cop was too young to understand how stupid that sounded even to him because right then he didn't have anything better and the truth was even more stupid.

Hearing a sound from nearby made him reach out to grab Sam's belt again as the ER staff began to take Dean up for emergency surgery. "Stay, sit and fill these out," he growled, shoving a clipboard at the younger man in the hopes of distracting him.

"The head of the ER complained about that one," another police officer, this one closer to Bobby's own age, mused as he watched Sam sit down in one of the tiny chairs in the waiting room. "Guess he threatened a few of the staff?"

"That's his brother they just took upstairs, Officer. Sam and Dean are all the family each other has now so the kid's a little upset," Bobby tried to make it sound as sympathetic as possible which wasn't hard since he understood all too well what Sam was feeling.

Because the house where this all took place was a little out of the way even for Kansas standards the closest emergency team, hospital and police were called in and much to Bobby's dismay that brought them all back to Lawrence…the very place where his favorite idjits had been born and their lives changed.

The officer had been looking at the police report and the report from the hospital so far when something made him frown and Bobby held his breath. "Winchester?" the cop looked up at the older man who was clearly the one to talk to right then. "They John Winchester's boys?"

Bobby felt like slapping Dean for actually having his real ID on him that night but figured it wouldn't hurt anything since he assumed all the heat with the Feds should be off and he never once considered running into anyone in Lawrence who would recall the name…until the cop brought up John's name and he felt his gut do several flips before replying.

"Yeah," he finally nodded, shooting a look back to see that so far Sam was still paying attention to the medical forms. "Sam's the youngest. Did you…know John?"

Obviously content with the report for the moment, the balding officer followed where Bobby was looking to take in the tall young man with brown hair and hazel eyes that looked to be one step from exploding even as he sat trying to fill out forms. "I worked on the fire at the Winchester house and I knew John from before," he admitted, looking at Bobby with knowing eyes. "I remember those boys from that night. We couldn't get his brother to say a damn word but that kid sure hovered over the baby. He sure shot up from that night."

"Sam sprouted like a weed," Bobby chuckled, wishing he could just check on Sam but not needing to give the police any reason to suspect them. "John passed away about six years, Officer. Those boys are it and Sam's been hurt recently so the thought of losing his brother has him shook up," he explained in a low voice. "I can handle him and there's a friend of the family also coming so Sam won't be a problem."

"John had a helluva temper and I know how he was after Mary was killed so I guess his sons probably got that from him," the Officer smiled, shaking Bobby's hand. "I think we have all we need so I'll get out of your hair, Mr. Singer and tell Sam that I hope his brother will…I hope he'll be okay."

Clearly accepting that the police officer suspected that same thing that he did, Bobby only nodded. Taking a deep breath he slowly walked over to sit down beside Sam to notice that the kid had managed to get half of the medical history filled out before zoning out and now was just staring into space which concerned Bobby since he wasn't sure how Sam was mentally.

The older hunter remembered leaving Sam unconscious in the Panic Room back at his place after that damn wall in his mind was kicked down. The crashing wall had taken Sam out of the fight and distracted Dean but Bobby had finally gotten the older Winchester's head back into it. Now he had both boys to worry about.

"Sam? You need to fill these out because I only know so much," he told him quietly, nudging the boy's arm only to frown when he felt it trembling. "Sam? Damn it, boy, answer me. Are you in there or…"

"I have my memories, Bobby," Sam spoke softly, eyes still staring at a framed photo across the waiting room. "Every damn one."

'Shit,' Bobby swore silently, understanding that meant that somehow Sam had fought his mental war to come out of it with not only the memories he'd had before but also of the time he'd been without a soul and also his time in the damn Cage with Michael and Lucifer. The last two, especially the soulless time, were the ones Dean wanted his brother spared from. "Sam…Dean's going to be fine but…how are you?"

"My brother is a broken mess, the car is wrecked…again, and I have memories that I really just want Dean for," Sam's voice was tight, his fingers moving the silver ring around restlessly when the clipboard hit him in the chest. "I can't think straight right now because it's all just one big nightmare."

Worried that this could be too much on Sam to handle right now, Bobby tried to fill out what he could and swore that from now on he was keeping track of every single thing these two did. "The last time Dean was in the hospital…"

"When Alastair tried to kill him," Sam replied, slumping lower in the chair to close his eyes and prayed he didn't sleep since he wasn't sure if he'd wake up again and wanting to be with Dean, not stuck in a stupid waiting room. "They'll tell us when I can see him, right?"

Glancing at the same nurse who had been dealing with them all night and seeing her nod, Bobby laid a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "As soon as he's out of surgery we'll know, Sam. Why don't you go out and get some fresh air or…"

"No, I want to be here. I should've stayed with him, Bobby. He shouldn't be hurt like this," Sam whispered, leaning forward in the chair and for a moment the older man was afraid he'd fall on his face before he realized that he was rocking and whispering to himself.

Concern tripling considering what the kid's gone through recently, Bobby was about to insist Sam go get some food or rest when another nurse called for him with the same tired question of how Dean got hurt.

"Could tell 'em the truth," Sam muttered to himself as Bobby stomped back to the desk to growl the same reply he'd been giving while he knew that the truth was even more incredible than the lie Bobby was telling. "Like they'd believe an Angel opened Purgatory, absorbed all the souls inside it, went post nuclear, smited an Archangel into bloody little pieces and slammed Dean around the room to break him."

Images flashed in Sam's mind and he fought to push them back since he knew he wasn't ready to handle those and the ones that had been glaring at him since he'd finally been able to get to his brother.

Sam remembered everything for the first time since waking up a few months ago to understand that something was seriously off with him. He'd woken up remembering the events in Stull Cemetery when he'd tried to take on Lucifer on his own. He woke up wanting his brother but had quickly realized that things were wrong.

Bobby had been uneasy around him and Dean way too protective while he had flashes of memory that didn't make sense until a visit by Castiel filled him in on the year, year and a half that he'd hunted without his brother and with people who should've been family but turned out to be just using him.

Now, after fighting to save his mind after Cas kicked the wall down that Death had put up to protect him from the memories of having his soul put back in Sam had all his memories again. Some he could handle while others…others he wanted his brother with him for and then he had his last memories which he wished he could forget because Sam doubted if he'd ever forget being forced to watch what happened to his brother just that night.

He'd woken up at Bobby's after accepting his memories of Hell back into his mind to find himself alone. That was a little shocking since he knew that normally Dean wouldn't have left him alone if he was hurt too bad but a short note with an address told him that Dean and Bobby had discovered where Castiel and Crowley would be opening Purgatory.

A small part of Sam's mind thought he'd heard his brother's voice in the time he'd been unconscious but wasn't sure. He'd just reacted on pure instinct and wanting to be by Dean's side to back him up had gone to meet up with them only to find things had clearly gone from bad to worse.

Sam was sure that seeing their beloved 1967 Chevy Impala on its top in front of the place had been one shock to his already shocked system but it was getting inside the house just in time to see Castiel, the Angel who up until recently both Winchesters had thought was still their friend until recent events had come to light, lit up like a Christmas tree on overload and promptly blew Raphael out of existence.

It was when he listened to Dean trying to defuse the situation that Sam became alarmed because Cas's whole attitude and behavior had changed and the fear for his brother's safety had made Sam react. Assuming that the dropped Angel killing blade would both stop the situation from escalating and protect his brother, Sam had moved quickly to strike Cas only to learn too late that the new powers made the blade useless.

Sam remembered the shock he felt and the shock reflected in Dean's eyes when Castiel pulled the blade out without any problem or pain. He also recalled seeing fear in his brother's eyes when the ex-Angel now deluded new 'God' began to turn and that was when Dean moved and Sam's world crashed yet again. Now he sat in another waiting room that reminded him of so many others that he'd been since he'd been small waiting for word on his brother and lost track of how long it was until something brought his mind back to the here and now.

"…seriously injured, Mr. Singer. One lung is fully collapsed, the other is damaged, we were able to knit some bones back together but the bones in his right side were all but crushed," a grave faced doctor's voice finally caught Sam's attention when he looked up to see him talking to Bobby and with just one look at both men's faces the younger man could tell the news wasn't good.

"Your nephew's neck was broke, his spine was all but cracked in two, and he suffered from severe brain damage that even if he would wake up he would never be alert or cognizant again," the Doctor went on, not needing to read from the clipboard as he gazed grimly at Bobby. "We've done all that we can for him and he's stable right now on life support but…to be perfectly honest it would be best if you and his brother began to consider his final wishes. We can keep him on support for the rest of his life but he'll never wake up and without constant morphine that boy, even unconscious, will be in agony so it might be more merciful to…"

"No."

There was no doubt in Sam's mind what the Doctor was suggesting and it was taking every ounce of restraint he had right then not to knock the man's head off for even making it. "I won't make that decision," he declared firmly, pushing to his feet and noticed two security guards in the hall were watching him but his eyes were set on the Doctor even as Bobby was putting himself between them. "My brother's gonna be fine. You don't know him and he will come out of this so you are not taking him off of anything or I'll…"

"Doctor, can Sam sit with his brother for awhile?" Bobby was quick to grab the boy before he could make the move that he knew he was heading for. "He's been through a lot recently, they've had some losses, so this injury isn't easy on him."

"Of course, Mr. Singer," the Doctor nodded though he still eyed Sam warily since he'd seen his earlier outburst in the ER. "It's the job of this facility to make both our patients and their families comfortable in their time of need and grief. The Nurse will take you up to Mr. Winchester's room but I hope you'll discuss with your nephew what is in his brother's best interest."

Forcing a tight smile and nodding, Bobby latched on to Sam before he could try to break the overly helpful Doctor's head off at the shoulders when a voice from behind him made him breathe a sigh of relief since it meant that he'd have help keeping Sam from killing the staff.

"Eric, you're lucky that poor boy didn't break that fools neck in the ER if he tried to remove him from his brother's side in that manner. Sam, stop growling at people and let's get you upstairs to see that brother of yours."

The short but feisty middle aged black woman who had bustled into the waiting room while lecturing the complaining ER doctor who she'd known for years was quick to take in the situation Bobby was coping with and read the emotions pouring off Sam.

"Should've brought that spoon," she muttered under her breath, taking Sam by his other arm while ushering the nurse ahead of them to the elevator. "Well, let's get a move on."

Missouri Mosley was a local resident in Lawrence and also a psychic who had first met John Winchester shortly after the fire in his house claimed the life of his wife. She had been the one who opened his eyes to world of the paranormal and on days like this she honestly wished she had never done that because she still cursed that man for what his obsession did to his sons.

Even though she rarely saw Dean and Sam in person she tried to keep an eye on them and help when she could. The moment she got the call about Dean, she was finishing up her business of the night, canceling appointments and on her way to the hospital just in time to arrive to feel Sam's nerves stretch to the breaking point.

She'd known from the first time she'd met these boys again how much Sam depended on and looked up to his brother. The thought of losing him now, like this, was breaking the boy emotionally while it seemed to her that something else was affecting him physically.

"Now Sam, listen to me," Bobby had begun to speak but it was clear by the way Sam's shoulders bunched that he was going to ignore anything either he or Missouri said right then and it reminded him of another time Dean had been hurt only then he could excuse Sam's behavior because he'd been a moody thirteen year old. "Sam, Dean's not gonna look good and…"

"He didn't look good after the truck slammed into us, or after that damn…after Alastair nearly beat him to death or after I…" Sam had to stop before his voice broke as memories came up too fast but it was stepping out onto the fifth floor of the hospital and being hit in the face with the sharp antiseptic smell that all hospitals had that he felt like throwing up. "I just want…I just want to see my brother, Bobby. Please, just let me see Dean."

Gently patting him on the arm, Missouri shot the nurse a sharper look in silent demand before blowing the young woman off. "Honey, Dean's at the end of the hall. You go see him while Bobby and I handle any of the rest of these papers that might need filled out."

Not bothering to ask how she knew that, Sam took a step away when something made him turn. "Umm, the insurance stuff…since Dean's using his real name I have some…cash set aside back when I was in school that we can use for now until I figure something out long term," he told them, swallowing the sour taste that came but knew he'd have to actually handle the financial end this time since Dean wouldn't be able to release himself AMA this time. "I suppose I should've set up something in case this happened or…"

"Sam, I'll handle it," Bobby assured him, nudging the boy forward before anyone said something to set him off again. "Go sit down and I'll be there in a second."

The nurse had filled in the duty nurse on this floor because by the time Bobby turned he was confronted with more paperwork and a grim faced nurse who rattled off things like vital signs and things that the grizzled hunter hoped Sam never heard.

"That boy's gonna snap soon," Missouri mused, sitting down next to the hunter and taking half the forms to fill out what they could. "Sam looks terrible."

"He's been through hell recently and this ain't gonna make it any easier on him," Bobby replied, frowning when he noticed that very heavy mark that crossed out the box for the option to remove the support from Dean. "Damn, I didn't figure I'd outlive either of those crazy idjits. From the first time I met John and he dumped those boys on me…damn."

Missouri stayed silent while Bobby worked through his own emotions and only looked up to see a young female doctor approaching them.

"Mr. Singer? I'm Doctor DeLaurent and I'll be Dean's doctor for the duration," she began while holding out a slim hand to Bobby. "I've spoken to his surgeon and the other specialists on his case and I thought perhaps we could speak so I could explain in more detail his condition and his chances before I speak with his…brother?"

This doctor was young, too young in Bobby's opinion, but she seemed to be a bit more levelheaded than the others he'd spoken with. She was also a good foot or so shorter than Sam so he guessed he should be honest with her right up front. "Doctor, I understand that Sam being Dean's brother drops all the final decision making on him but I'll tell you now that you don't want to mention drastic measures or taking that boy off the machines to Sam because he'll fight you tooth and nail because he believes right now that his brother will pull out of this," he remarked seriously, sitting back down to prepare for the standard lecture. "You can tell me though and I'll…see what I can do."

Sam hated hospitals. He'd hated hospitals for as long as he could remember and considering he'd seen a good deal of them between injuries his Dad would get to when he'd be sick or Dean would get hurt that was saying a lot.

The first time he could remember hating a hospital was when he was probably four years old and had come down with something. Finally John had been forced to take his fevered son into the ER and they'd had to admit Sam for treatment. He'd been scared of the needles, the strange people in masks, the ice cold baths they'd force him to take and the tubes with liquid that had burned his arm. He could recall screaming for Dean from the first moment he'd woke up alone until finally the doctors had allowed his equally frantic brother to stay with him.

For two days Sam was stuck in that hospital bed and while his Dad would come and go, his brother hadn't left him and he remembered Dean's words to him that time and so many others when they'd be in a hospital. " 'Don't let go, Sammy. I'm right here with you and I'll be here until we go home.'"

There was only two times in Sam's life that he could recall being in a hospital and his brother not being with him. The first was during Sam's early college years when what was supposed to be a harmless prank on someone else turned into Sam getting the hell beat out of him and having to be admitted to the hospital for a broken arm, collarbone and serious internal injuries.

He could hazily recalling asking for his brother but hadn't asked anyone to call Dean since he knew his brother wouldn't come after that last fight Sam and John had. In his drug filled dreams he'd dreamed of hearing his brother's voice saying the same thing he'd always said to him. " 'Don't let go, Sammy. I'm right here with you and I'll be here until you go home.'"

The nurses had said later that a young man had been with him until shortly before Sam woke up fully but hadn't given a name, just paid the bill and said to take care of him. He'd assumed that it was maybe a teacher or one of his friends since he knew Dean wouldn't have had any reason to have been there so he'd never asked his brother.

The other time in Sam's memory that he'd been in a hospital without Dean had been shortly after Dean's deal had come due and his grief and anger had been so huge that he'd gotten into a bar fight that resulted in a knife wound to the stomach that had nearly killed him.

That time Sam knew his dreams of his brother were just that, dreams because Dean was trapped in Hell because of him so the memory of hearing that same strong voice and feeling his hand holding his until Bobby had arrived had been Sam's way of holding onto the one thing he'd needed to believe in. " 'Don't let go, Sammy. I'd be with you if I could and you will go home.'"

So many times between the two of them Sam could remember the smells and sounds of hospitals but very few times had it been this bad and rarely had it been him needing to be the strong brother. He finally stopped at the last room on the floor, his fingers shook as they touched the handle to push the door open and once again he was sixteen walking into a room much like this one behind his Father after Dean had been hurt on a hunt.

That injury had been his fault, or so his Father had screamed at him, and so had this one. This one however had left his brother hurt much worse and Sam knew he couldn't turn and run from this room like he had that one. This time he needed to face his mistakes and the final cost even if it meant eventually facing that one damn choice he'd sworn never to make.

"Dean."

When the medics had finally taken his brother from him, Dean Winchester had been a broken, bloody mess after his final confrontation with Castiel. Already injured after the demon wave had flipped the Impala with him and Bobby inside, Dean had made his ultimate sacrifice the moment he put himself between the former Angel and his little brother.

Sam had no illusions what would happen next the moment his knife strike failed to take Castiel out of the picture. He'd been preparing for that final finger snap that would end his life even as the ex-Angel now wannabe God began to turn toward him when that same strong hand that had been protecting him all his life came onto his shoulder to move him aside as Dean stepped between him and Castiel.

" 'Go, Sam. Take Bobby and get out,'" Dean had told him without breaking eye contact with Castiel. "You think you can just open a door, pop some souls and be the new God, Cas? You're going over the edge and need to power down but either way you ain't touching my brother.'"

Sam could still see the way their former friend had gazed between them before setting former kind eyes on Dean and he knew what was happening but before he could see a way to stop it, time had run out because Castiel lifted a hand and Dean was slammed across the room and through a stone wall.

" 'Dean!'" the scream was still embedded in Sam's mind as he started to move only to be shoved back by some invisible force and made to watch helplessly as his brother was brutally thrown and assailed by power no mortal could withstand until finally Dean's already ravaged body was dropped hard into a metal table. " 'Cas! Stop it! I'm the one who tried to stab you so kill me!'"

Later Sam would reason that probably hadn't been a wise choice of words even as Bobby was shouting where he'd been pinned to the wall out of the way of the out of control former Angel. " 'I didn't want to harm you or Dean, Sam but you don't understand what needs to be done. I can take care of all of Raphael's followers but I will be respected and you know that neither you nor Dean will bow to me as your God even though I would've been more merciful than the one who forced who both into the Apocalypse. I'm…sorry, Sam.'"

If he hadn't still been in shock from reuniting his mind and memories and seeing what he just had, Sam probably would've laughed in his former friend's face and pointed out that he sure as Hell wasn't being very merciful right then when he caught his brother's eye and recognized the same weary, soul crushing smile that Dean had given him in the green room a moment before he almost said 'yes' to Michael. The smile that had always meant not to worry that big brother was taking care of everything.

" 'Yeah…I'm…sorry too…Cas,'" Dean managed to get out of lungs that had to have been filling with blood, his unbroken hand hovering over a sigal he'd drawn in his own blood. " 'Sammy's…off limits so power…down or…Argh!'"

The ragged scream came when Castiel knelt down to press hand over the young helpless hunter's head, essentially pounding it into the cement floor with the pressure of a ten-foot fall when something made the ex-Angel look up as if listening to some sound that only he could hear and his face took on a briefly confused expression as if realizing what he'd done.

Looking down at Dean's bloody, broken body over to the pure anguish on Sam's face, he seemed to blink until that more familiar Cas-like expression showed. " 'I'm…sorry.'"

A bright wall of light signaled his departure and only then could Sam make it across the room to drop next to his brother while Bobby found a working cell-phone to call for help since the older man knew they couldn't move Dean.

" 'Dean, hold on. We'll get you help so just hold on," Sam remembered saying, hands shaking as he tried to find someplace on his brother to touch that wasn't shattered or bloody.

His brother, even hurt this seriously, still tried to be the brave one because as Sam was breaking it was Dean's good hand that reached up to try to grip Sam's neck in the same calming motion he'd almost always used but could only manage to lightly touch his face, leaving blood as a result. " 'Told…Bobby you'd show up,'" he'd scoffed, coughing up blood while struggling to say what he'd felt needed to be said. " 'Go…home, Sammy. Can't…fight this one…hurt too bad. Promise me…that you'll let…Bobby burn…'"

Sam bitterly recalled shaking his head, wanting to fight with Dean that he'd make this right when his brother again seemed to have known what he'd say when he forced a final tired smile and this time did manage to grip Sam's neck with as much strength as he had right then. " 'No stunts, no deals, no machines, Sam. Let me go and get…get out of this life. Go back…to school but promise me, Sammy…promise me that…you'll make it cause…I'll be watchin' you, little…'"

Sitting down in a chair by the bed, Sam wiped his eyes as he remembered breaking down into tears as Dean passed out in either pain or blood loss. He also clearly recalled breaking the arm of the first paramedic who tried to touch his brother and only Bobby's sharp voice and even sharper backhand brought him back to his senses…for the moment.

Now he looked at the heart monitor that beeped regularly along with the hissing of the ventilator that allowed his older brother to breathe. He noticed the many bags of liquid that dripped into Ivs attached to Dean's still clearly injured arms along with a bag holding blood.

Stopping, Sam bit his lip before easing a hand through the rails of the bed to gently take one hand into his and hated how cold and clammy it already felt. Looking up in the brief hope that maybe, just maybe, by touching Dean he'd wake up, Sam swallowed the lump in his throat.

Dean's head was wrapped almost completely in white bandage while some wires attached to electrodes tried to measure any brain activity but Sam had known that even though Dean had known him before slipping under the amount of blood from the head wound would probably mean he wouldn't now.

His face wasn't as swollen as Sam had feared it would be which at least gave him that small comfort because it had always scared him when his brother's face was too bloodied or swelled. Ever since Sam had been a child and had first seen Dean hurt it had been that way.

"Hey, Dean," he murmured softly, lowering the rail that was closest to him so he'd have better access to his brother's hand. "Not sure if you can hear me this time or not but I doubt if a Ouija board will help us this time. I know, I screwed up and got you hurt again. Wasn't my plan…not that I ever plan on you being hurt because of me but…I don't know how to make this right, Dean."

Squeezing the unresponsive hand as carefully as he could as if afraid he might hurt his brother, Sam leaned his other elbow on the bed so he could rest his chin on his hand and stopped caring about the tears that had begun in earnest.

"The doctors are babbling about excessive measures, about you not waking up and all this other crap but they don't know my big brother like I do and I'm trying to tell them that you'll wake up, that you'll be fine. You have to wake up, Dean. I can't fix the Impala by myself…hell, you hardly ever let me near it except for that time you taught me how to fix…" wincing when he heard his voice break at the memory of the day Dean had handed him the wrench for the first time…during his last year before Hell. "You can't do this to me, Dean. I need you to come back…though I can't blame you if you wanted rid of me after…you didn't tell me, big brother. You didn't tell me what I did to you when I didn't have a soul."

Those memories were tearing him up almost as badly as this nightmare was. Sam had known that he'd done things while soulless that he wouldn't like. He'd accepted that even before he'd made himself take those memories back but he hadn't counted on learning the things he'd done to his brother during that time.

Dean hadn't told him, hadn't mentioned or even let on about his refusal to accept the Impala from him, or how cold he'd been toward him, or when he'd told him that he didn't care about him or anything. His brother hadn't said a damn thing about that but what was bothering Sam the most was that Dean had also kept to himself the trauma of whatever the hell had happened when he'd been abducted by Faeries and finally why the hell he hadn't killed Sam when he'd let him be turned into a vampire.

It was those memories among others that were hurting Sam the most since he was trying to avoid the painful ones of what he'd endured in Hell since it would have taken Dean a lot of prodding, pushing and digging to get Sam to talk about the Cage…now if his brother would ask he'd probably tell him anything he wanted just to be able to hear his voice.

Looking down at the two items he still held in his hand, Sam placed the silver ring he'd always remembered his brother wearing as well as the black rubber bracelet that they both once had next to his arm on the bed. "Saying I'm sorry isn't enough this time, Dean and I know that. I don't know if you would've been better off never finding out that I was still alive because I honestly don't know if you would've stayed with Lisa much longer," he kept his eyes on Dean's face while trying to ignore all the noises the machines were making.

"I can remember now watching you every now and then and I remember the one time I think I almost revealed myself to you. Even without a soul I still felt something when I realized the Impala was running with the garage door closed," Sam now felt terror over that memory; terror at how close his brother had been to death when he'd gotten that damn garage door open, jimmied the car door open (though he doubted Dean would be happy to know that Sam knew how to get into the Impala like that) and carried his brother up to the secluded back yard where he'd stayed until he saw Dean start to come around.

"I'd thought normal and happy was what you deserved after giving your whole damn life to raise me, to protect me but to be honest…I…missed you. Even without a soul, without giving a crap I remember laying awake at night…missing my brother and I miss you now, Dean," Sam swallowed the sob since he had to try to retain some dignity in front of his big brother.

Memories of the time the semi truck had slammed the Impala came back to him. He could remember his childish hope that a mere Ouija board might give him something and Sam still recalled the relief he'd felt the moment that planchet had moved but the horror upon learning of the reaper that was tracking his brother.

"I so hate hospitals, Dean," he whispered, pausing to swipe a hand over his eyes to clear them of tears and exhaustion. "I've always hated them, especially when you were in one because I was so scared that if you went into one then you wouldn't come out and I knew I couldn't survive with Dad without you.

"The time when I was sixteen and you took the hit for me from that spirit up in Cleveland and you were hurt really bad…I was so scared that I'd gotten you killed and felt bad enough that I didn't give a damn if he killed me because Dad was so pissed off that I'd messed up and you paid for it," dropping his eyes down to his brother's hand, he could recall clinging to this hand that time too. "Pastor Jim stopped him when it became pretty clear that he'd gone off the deep end and I didn't stand a chance and that time I knew you wouldn't be coming to the rescue. You woke up a few days later and asked me how I got the bruises…I had to lie, Dean because I didn't want him to yell again and I didn't want you to get angry so I lied and made Pastor Jim promise not to tell you."

Sam recalled the thin scar on his side that he still had from that day but a misbeep in the heart monitor made him look up with a frown and he noticed a tenseness in Dean's face that he hadn't before but shrugged it off to pain when the automatic morphine drip began supplying the pain medication that would keep his brother out of what had to be agonizing pain.

Whether it was the pain he was feeling over this or the exhaustion but Sam gasped as a wave of pain struck in his head and images of fiery torment shot through in a brief flash that he fought to shove aside until he had the time and energy to handle that.

Fingers tight, he gripped his brother's hand much like he would as a child when in the hospital for something when he smiled shakily. "Don't let go, Dean. I'm here with you and I will be until we go home," he whispered, finally unable to take it any longer and letting the emotions come as he laid his head on the side of the bed next to Dean's arm and sobbed. "Don't let go, Dean, please."

Eight days pass as Sam sits beside his still and unmoving brother with only the sound of the machines that kept Dean Winchester alive being heard until finally a step brought Sam's head up while his hand automatically went for the weapon that he'd been forced to leave behind but he dropped his hand when he only saw… "Bobby."

The grizzled hunter had been in and out checking on the boys ever since he'd noticed that Sam had fallen into a semblance of a sleep. It had taken a lot that first time to get Sam to go to Missouri's house to shower and change but the older woman had handled that with more finesse and less grief than Bobby could've and for that he felt like she should be sainted.

Sam was fine so long as it was just him and Dean in the room but the moment a nurse or a doctor entered the boy's whole demeanor and mood changed. It had quickly been decided that either Bobby or Missouri needed to be in the room if someone needed to check a vital or change an IV or anything else because the time Sam had nearly thrown an intern out the window had made up Bobby's mind…even not hyped up on anything Sam Winchester was still a lethal young man.

"Sam…we need to talk," Bobby hated this conversation more than he did any other except for the one he'd tried to have with Dean the time Sam was killed in Cold Oak by Jake. He had a hunch this talk would go in a similar vein.

"I think he's getting more color," Sam refused to look the older man in the face so he kept his shadowed and tired hazel eyes locked on his brother while his fingers tightened around his hand as a child might a parent when frightened. "He also moved his fingers once so those are good signs…right?"

Twisting his battered trucker's cap between his hands, Bobby wished the boy didn't sound so much like a hopeful child. It would make telling him the truth easier but right then he knew he couldn't tell him that Dean's color was improving because of the blood transfusions that he needed due to the doctors being unable to find where he was still bleeding at internally. The muscle reactions in his fingers was also a normal reaction to someone in a coma or so some fancy Doctor with a PHd had told him.

"Sam…" laying a hand on the back of Sam's neck, Bobby wasn't surprised when it was pushed off. He knew Sam would only allow Dean to touch him casually like that in the best of times and this was by far not one of those so with a deep breath he just decided to get it over with. "Sam, it's been over a week since Dean's been here and…he's not responding to treatment or light or anything. Don't you think it's time we talked about what Dean said to you that night?"

Seeing the way the younger Winchester tensed told Bobby that he knew exactly what he meant so he went on in what he hoped was a calm, reasonable tone. "I heard what Dean said, Sam. I heard him tell you no excessive measures and no machines. I know you think he'll come out of this but it's time we face the facts that Cas hurt Dean too…"

"I know what happened, Bobby!" Sam snapped, refusing to let go of his brother's hand when every fiber of him wanted to lash out at something…someone. "I was there so I know Dean got hurt protecting me…again! I also know that my brother would never let me go like this and I won't let him go. He'll fight back and I'll be here when he does so tell those sons of bitches that I'm not letting them pull the damn plug on him!"

"Yep, Winchester stubbornness again," Bobby sighed wearily, not wanting to do this to Sam but needing the kid to see reason. "Sam, I've had this same fight or something similar with your brother over you and God knows I had one helluva fight with you over burying Dean that…Sam!"

The mere mention of finally having to put his brother's body in the ground after he'd been tore to shreds by Hellhounds made Sam's already raw emotions break in a bad way and he was across the room and in his mentor's face a second later with his hands gripped in Bobby's jacket.

"I am not killing him! I am not letting them kill him and I'm not letting YOU kill him!" Sam screamed, grief and rage pouring out when a open hand slapped him in the face with enough force to shock him into letting go a moment before he was shoved back by an irate Bobby.

"Goddamn you, boy! You think I want to let Dean go that easily? You think this is easy on me to see that boy in that bed wired up like that? You think it's easy on me to see you falling to pieces more and more every day?" he demanded angrily, reining in when he caught the way Sam had tensed and recalled the boy's fights with his Father. "You boys are like my own sons, Sam and every time one of you are hurt it breaks my heart but you've got to accept that if it wasn't for those damn machines your brother would already be dead. Castiel killed him with the first hit and this is doing nothing but prolonging Dean's pain and your own which is why he told you no machines."

Reaching for the x-ray he'd brought in with him, he held it up to the sun shining in the windows to allow Sam to see the damage it showed and caught the muscle in Sam's jaw twitch much like his brother's would often do. "This is the latest X-ray of Dean's head, Sam. Even if his body could mend his brain is too damaged. So you tell me, would your brother want to live like this? Would Dean want to live hooked to machines? Not being able to hear you or touch you? Would he, Sam? Because I can pretty much tell you the same answer that your heart knows."

Bobby waited a long moment before reaching out a hand to lay on Sam's shoulder, feeling it shake a moment before the boy turned to grab on in a way that he hadn't done in years. "Dean loved you, Sam but you can't hold onto him like this. This time…you've got to let go."

"I…" looking back to his brother, Sam bit his lower lip to fight the tears that wanted to pour he understood what Bobby was saying and he understood that this wasn't what Dean would want but…he wasn't sure if he could make that choice. "Bobby, Dean letting me make the decision to face Lucifer or anything else I've done is one thing. Asking me to make this decision…I can't do that…he…would he?"

"Caleb told me that Dean refused to make or even entertain the idea sometime when you'd been hurt while you were in college," the older man told him wearily, figuring this wouldn't hurt one way or the other but noticed the way Sam's eyes lifted as if shocked. "Dean never mentioned it and I wasn't talking to John at the time but I guess according to Caleb that you'd gotten beat up pretty bad and had been asking for Dean. A nurse had pulled every string she knew to find out your closest contact and eventually found one of Dean's old cell numbers in your wallet. She called him and Caleb said from the moment your brother answered the phone he saw nothing but panic in his eyes."

Blinking, Sam looked at his brother as if expecting a smart reply in return to defuse a possible chick flick moment. "I…I thought I'd dreamed hearing him," he murmured, returning his hand to Dean's wrist and noticing how weak the pulse beat now. "I woke up alone but…"

"Caleb said Dean stayed with you for four days since you were pretty out of it. When it was clear that you'd be waking up, he paid the hospital bill, told the nurse to call him if you got worse and then Caleb said Dean went and beat the living shit out of whoever it was that had nailed you," Bobby had had no trouble picturing that since Dean had always been closer to Sam than John had been aware of. "Dean fought the doctors for you, Sam but…"

"But he wouldn't let me live on machines…no matter how much it had hurt him," Sam whispered, closing his eyes but refused to allow his memories to come yet. "I know, Bobby. I know what he'd want. Tell…tell the doctors…damn it…tell them they can take him…off."

Hearing the way the boy's voice choked on the last word, Bobby squeezed his shoulder tightly to reassure him though he had no doubt what Sam would do next. "You don't have to…I mean, I can…"

"No, I'll stay with him until it's over," Sam needed to do that. He needed to give his brother that at least and then he needed to hunt down a former Angel. "How long?"

"They have papers you need to sign but then I'm not sure," the older man wished he could take this responsibility off of Sam but knowing the Winchesters like he did he knew Sam wouldn't let him.

Hearing the door close softly as Bobby went to find the Doctor, Sam sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on his brother's face and could've sworn he felt tears but shook that off as his own emotions playing tricks until a more familiar feeling tingled in the back of his head and he moved a hand to the one safety measure that he could offer Dean that he hoped still worked.

"The blades don't work now, does the damn blood sigal?" he asked tightly, rage bubbling in him but he refused to turn around because he knew if he did he'd react in a way that would get him killed. "What the hell are you even doing here…Castiel? Come to see if he was dead yet?"

"…No. I came to…Sam, I came to offer my apologies for what happened. I truly didn't mean for you or Dean to be hurt and…"

Whirling off the bed but making sure to keep himself between the former Angel and his brother, Sam couldn't help but laugh. "You didn't mean to hurt him? You were running on enough power to melt a few suns, Cas. Dean is a…was a mortal. He was only human! He didn't stand a goddamn chance against you!" stepping forward, Sam didn't care if he was wiped out or not he just wanted to vent to someone even if the someone in question could snap his fingers and turn him to bloody goo. "You expect open trust after you sided with Crowley? After you lied to us how many times? This was my brother you expected that from and Dean does not respond to that well. Hell, I'm still not sure if he ever fully forgave me for Ruby or all that crap and now, thanks to you, I never will because I have to let them pull the plug on him!"

Dark eyes gazed over at Dean and Castiel's head lowered for a moment. "I…still hadn't gotten used to increased strength, Sam. I had meant to injure him only slightly but not kill him. I still consider you and Dean my friends and I could try to heal…"

"Get. The. Hell. Away. From. My. Brother." Sam gritted, fists clenching but he forced himself to back down as if he could hear Dean warning him to back off. "Just go, Cas. It's over. You run Heaven now but stay away from me because I swear I will never forget or forgive this."

Considering that he could do it anyway, there was something in Sam's eyes that warned Castiel to leave and with a sad nod to the bed he was gone like he'd never been there and soon Sam was forcing himself to keep to the edge of the room while Doctor DeLaurent and a few nurses gently unhooked the life support machines.

"Sam, honey…come outside," Missouri tried to say but Sam's head merely shook as he fought the urge to stop the procedure until finally the room had fallen silent of all the machines and the only sounds that remained were that of the normal machines that would remain until Dean's heart stopped beating and the sound of knuckles grinding as Sam's fist cracked.

"His heart is stronger than I counted on so it could be a couple hours to a few more days before this is over, Mr. Singer," the Doctor told Bobby while watching Sam with sad eyes. "We'll of course continue the morphine drip for comfort and you and his brother are welcome to stay until it's…I'm sorry that we couldn't help him."

Bobby knew Sam was close to breaking or hurting someone so he quickly nodded and motioned to Missouri to get the staff out so it was just Sam and him in the room. "Sam, get some rest or…"

"I'll sleep when I'm dead, Bobby," the young man replied softly, sitting down on the bedside again as if needing to be close for that final moment. "Can I…can I be alone with him?"

Knowing that was probably a huge mistake and one Bobby hated since the last time he left Sam alone like this he didn't see the kid for months but finally nodded. "Yeah. Missouri and I'll be in the waiting room if you need anything. Sam…you know he loved you, right?"

Staring at Dean's chest as it now tried to rise on it's own, Sam considered what Bobby said before leaving and he closed his eyes. "Did he love me when Cas was caving his skull in?" he asked the room bitterly, touching the silver ring and wishing he had been able to give his brother back the amulet he'd tossed. "Did Dean really still love me after I let him be turned into a vampire? Or when I…"

"Yeah, because your brother loved you from the moment Mary told him that he was going to be a big brother."

Now convinced that his overly exhausted and mentally shocked brain had finally made him snap, Sam dropped his chin to his chest but couldn't fight the small smile at the rough voice that spoke from the other side of the bed. A voice that he'd often hated to hear as a kid but the one that he'd more recently wished he could hear because if there had been one man who could save Dean it would've been John Winchester.

"Dad," lifting his eyes, Sam found himself looking into the serious eyes of his father as John stood across from him.

It had been over six years since Sam had seen his father and the last time had been in a graveyard when John's spirit had climbed from Hell and helped his sons defeat the Yellow Eyed demon. As Sam looked, his father still looked the same as he had then. Greying hair, scruffy beard, same clothes but what was missing was the normal harsh, accusing, disappointed look in his eyes as he gazed between his sons.

"Hello, Sam," John smiled a little when he moved a hand through an IV pole that still supplied pain medication to his oldest son. "I'm not solid at the moment, Sam so the whole silver thing or Holy water won't work yet."

Considering if this was a trick of Castiel's or his own mind had snapped, Sam finally shook his head and went back to concentrating on his brother. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you'd come for him," he mused quietly, nearly gasping when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"I didn't come to take Dean across, Sam. That's up to someone else," John seemed sad at that idea but he kept his hand on the trembling shoulder of his younger son. "No, I was allowed to come to be here with my boys."

Memories were starting to come now and Sam couldn't stop them. Memories of being a child, of following his older, much loved big brother everywhere. Memories of always knowing that Dean would be there for him no matter what, of always trying to measure up to Dean and even when he was at college he missed his brother. He could remember vividly the day Dean came for him in Stanford and while he fought being dragged back into hunting he couldn't deny his relief at riding next to Dean again.

"Sorry I was always bitching about the cassette tapes, Dean," he spoke softly to his brother, moving his hand gently so he didn't rip any stitches or anything. "Promise I'll…I'll fix the car somehow and put them all back."

"You and your brother were always fighting over that music," John mused, sitting down on the bed but it didn't move since spirits didn't have weight. "Sam, let go."

Sudden rage flew out of him but he fought to keep his tone low as to not upset his brother. "I have let him go, Dad. He'll die and I'll…I have let go of him."

"I don't mean let go of Dean because I know that you will never do that, even if Dean does pass over you will never fully let him go," John told him seriously, squeezing the shoulder a little more while placing his other hand on Dean's. "You need to let the emotions go, son. You'll destroy yourself if you don't."

"Who the hell are you and what the hell did you do with my Dad?" Sam demanded after blinking in surprise. "Because my Dad is the King of anti-emotion. Always has been and…"

Shooting his youngest son a look, John smirked. "I know, I know and it's not easy but for you, you need to get rid of those Sam. Dean…he has loved you for as long as you've been alive and even before because he'd talk to your Mom's stomach," he chuckled at Sam's look of surprise. "You won't believe this but before the fire Dean was a much happier boy and no, it wasn't your fault so stop thinking that because you do not want your Mother to box your ears."

Not feeling like laughing, Sam fought the smile that wanted to come at that image but then other images were coming. The fights he and Dean would have but also the trips in the car when it was just them. The nights that Dean would stay by him after Jessica died, the look of relief and concern in Dean's eyes after Sam had been kidnapped by the Benders and the way he hovered after until Sam finally came clean with him about that time and so much more that Sam had stopped fighting the tears that were flowing now when he felt the pulse under his hand jump once again and the heart monitor seemed to skip.

"I don't know if I can do this without him, Dad," Sam looked up at John with huge wet eyes. "I am so screwed up that I need him and I know I've disappointed you more now than…"

"Sammy, you aren't a disappointment to me, to Mary or to Dean," John replied, feeling the vibes in the room change as his oldest moved closer to the veil. "I made mistakes, Sam. I treated you and Dean like soldiers, not sons and you were right. I was a selfish son of a bitch who was only concerned with what I wanted and needed and not what you boys needed. I wish I could've stopped what happened to you both from happening but you and Dean have made me proud and you'll continue to make us proud now."

Feeling a cold chill enter the room, Sam fought the urge to run when the look in his father's eyes made him glance over his shoulder and freeze. "I didn't think Reapers could be seen except by those you were taking," he remembered reading that and also recalled how he couldn't see that one called by Roy LeGrange's wife so this was more than shock.

"We can't…unless the boss wants us to be and he wanted me to be seen…Sam."

Sam had seen the short dark haired young woman once when he and Dean had been astral spirits trying to save Reapers from Alastair. Tessa had been the Reaper who had originally tried to claim Dean's life after the car crash and he guessed she was finally seeing that mission through.

"So, I guess natural selection finally won out, huh?" he asked, recalling what Dean had told him of his bet with Death to get his soul back…after Sam pushed for more details. "You've been wanting my brother since before Dad died and now you've got him. Funny, for as big a pain in the ass as he's been I thought Death himself would make an appearance."

"Son…have I ever told you that you picked up your brother's damn smart mouth?" John hissed, proud that his boy wasn't backing away from the Reaper but also not eager to see both of his boys taken in one day.

Tessa cocked her head curiously as if gauging this young man that Dean had been willing to barter with Death in order to get his soul back before her gaze landed on the young hunter in the bed. "Dean…Dean has been a pain in the ass to a lot of people, Sam. Including myself since he's been one of the very few clients that I lost."

Tightening his grip on his brother's hand, Sam took a deep breath. "So now you get to take him. Have you…have you yet?" he asked, supposing not since the monitors were still bleeping.

"No, not yet," Tessa eyed John warily before watching Sam with a gentle smile. "I assumed you'd want to say goodbye to him first."

Struggling with the idea of saying goodbye, Sam knew if he wanted to say anything that was important that he needed to do it now. "Dean…I know I've been talking for eight days and you're probably wishing I'd shut up so I will but first…you've protected me, taught me, raised me all my life pretty much. You took crap from Dad that you shouldn't have had to and crap from me because I was to selfish to understand you and I'm sorry," he slowly reached into his pocket for another black band but this one he closed Dean's fingers around. "You gave me that because I was always bugging you about yours so I hope wherever you wind up you'll remember me and I promise I'll do the best I can for as long as I can, Dean because my big brother taught me never to give up and you were the best big brother I could've wanted. I wish I could've been a better little brother," hesitating, he moved a shaking hand up to lightly squeeze Dean's neck like he often did him. "I…I love you, Dean."

John had been forced to look away or else he might have shown more emotion to his son than he was comfortable with but it was something in Sam's movements that made him pay attention again. "Son?"

"I know you can't tell me that he'll be alright but can you at least promise to take him quickly?" Sam asked Tessa, wiping his eyes quickly but frowned as his head buzzed and the room seemed to tilt.

"Dean'll be fine, Sam," the young Reaper promised, placing a gentle hand on Sam's arm. "I need to touch him."

Glancing at his Father helplessly, Sam had finally had enough. He'd dealt with this all but he couldn't take this final moment of hearing those monitors stop beeping as his brother died so with a final whispered goodbye to Dean he ran out of the room past a crying Missouri and a bravely trying not to cry Bobby.

"I'm sorry, son," John laid a hand on his oldest boy's chest while looking up at Tessa. "Do it quick."

Sitting on the side of the bed Tessa gazed at Dean Winchester with the same soft smile she'd offered him once. "I once told you that every hero has to come home sooner or later, hotshot," she mused quietly, playing a hand on Dean's forehead. "Well, it's time for you to go back to where you need to be."

TBC

A/N II: I know, I know. I'm an evil, evil writer for leaving it like this but at least the 2nd CH will follow right behind. It honestly wasn't planned to end like this or have 2 chapters but right as I hit this part it just screamed to stop here. I think I cried too much writing it.