There were a lot of things Dean Winchester didn't like; the monsters they hunted, the healthy food Sam tried to get him to eat, seeing his brother in pain, someone messing with his Impala and so on. The list was long-endless it seemed-but the one thing he hated almost as much as seeing Sam in pain was hospitals. The smell of bleach and blood lingering in nearly every room, the machines beeping infinitely, rushed nurses and doctors in every direction: it was chaotic. To him hospitals were just an uncomfortable waiting room to see Death.

A few months after Sam left for Stanford, both Dean and his dad got hurt on a hunt and couldn't drive to the motel-the werewolf they were hunting threw John against a rock which shattered his leg while Dean gained a concussion and could only see double-they had to call an ambulance. He stayed by his dad nearly the entire time in the hospital. Dean hated seeing his normally tough as nails, stubborn headed dad forced to stay still while the nurse put a cast on his leg and stitched his chest up since the werewolf was able to mare his chest.

The day after they left the hospital his dad, the impatient man he was, had enough of the itchy cast. He found a rusty old power saw that happened to be in the cabin they were staying in and muttered "screw bed rest" as he cut it off himself.

While John was cutting off the cast Dean took a moment to thank whoever was listening that Sam was at Stanford instead of tagging along with them on the hunt. Knowing how his brother is a pain magnet he would have probably ended up worse than the two of them. It wasn't that Dean didn't think Sam was strong or brave enough to take out a werewolf, he just didn't like the thought of his baby brother being hurt-again-from another hunt.

Now as Dean stood in the doorway, overlooking the room, he couldn't help but feel the same helplessness as he did all those years ago when his dad was admitted into the hospital.

His brother had stopped breathing on their way to the hospital but Dean wasn't going to let Sam go without a fight. After a few moments of shock Dean had taken it upon himself to preform CPR while Bobby broke countless laws trying to get to the hospital (Dean was surprised that Bobby wasn't caught or pulled over). The back of the small car was not an ideal place to preform CPR on a Sasquatch sized little brother but Dean wasn't going to let that stop him.

His arms grew sore from the numerous chest compressions he was giving to Sam and he was feeling a bit lightheaded from but he wasn't willing to stop. Even as Bobby pulled into the hospital he was still pushing Sam's chest, refusing to stop until one of the nurses pulled him away and explained that they needed him to stop so they can save his brother. Throughout the entire car ride he couldn't bring himself to look at his brother's bruised face, afraid that if he did then Sam then he'd see his brother's face become an unnatural blue hue, the life sucked out of his beautiful hazel eyes.

They must have some supernatural being on their side (or maybe one of the angels, which soon Dean scoffed at for even thinking that for a second) for somehow the doctors were able to revive Sam. Dean, although relieved that Sam's alive, was still worried as they had told him Sam had fallen into a coma, his body trying to recuperate from the trauma it had been put through. Dean had to hold back the humorless laugh when the doctor told him this. His brother had to heal from the damage that the man-monster, Dean told himself, he was a monster-caused, damage that was preventable if Dean found him earlier.

His brother look unnaturally small in the bed. His 6'4 figure seemed to have shrunk down to the size of the young kid he once was. Endless IV cords stuck to Sam's arms and chest. He was pale from the blood loss, the bruises on his face a dark contrast to the paleness of his brother. The black eye was the darkest part if Sam's complexion. It was dark and swollen shut. The damn nasal cannula was there to taunt Dean-he had convinced himself of that. The doctor told him it was to help support Sam's breathing since his lungs weren't as strong as they usually were. It seemed to be more of a mockery to Dean, telling him how he failed to protect his brother and now Sam was paying the price for Dean's mistake.

Dean had waited for countless hours until the doctor allowed him to see his brother. He had spent that time pacing, ignoring Bobby and Beverly's worried glances and reassurances ("he's going to be fine boy now sit your ass down before you create a hole in the floor") making up a story to tell the doctor, all while pestering the nurses about his brother's condition whenever one came by and fighting the need for sleep. He eventually created a mental list of what he would say to Sam. So far all Dean could come up with was I'm sorry I let my guard down and allowed that fucking psychopath to touch you Sammy it's all my fault you don't deserve this.

When he was allowed to see Sam, he was at a loss for words. He wondered if this was what Sam felt when he saw Dean in the hospital after the demon driving the truck hit their car all those years ago: helpless and uncertain of what to do next. His guilt had morphed into anger when he first saw the bruised figure in the bed. It went back to guilt when he remembered that his brother wouldn't be in that condition if it wasn't for him.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said, pushing all the anger and guilt down as he pulled a small chair over to Sam's bed. "The doc said you're gonna be fine." He placed his hand on Sam's own, the one without the cast, and squeezed it lightly, hoping somehow Sam could feel his touch in his state.

He was told by one of the nurses the extent of Sam's injuries, preparing him for when he saw Sam. Dean had seen but when he got up close he felt the tears that threatened to fall as he saw the state his brother was in; a broken wrist, cuts on his chest, arms and legs, burn marks from when the man fucking electrocuted him, contusions on his face, torn lips from the duct tape-though Dean suspected there was something else that caused it as well. The bruises left from the rope on his throat left a hideous shade of purple and yellow covering the area (that should not be there Sam you shouldn't have gotten hurt I'm sorry it's all my fault all my fault). Lacerations on his wrists and legs that were slightly infected had been hidden underneath bandages, bloodspots staining the white fabric. He was hooked up on an IV to help with his dehydration and malnutrition. It was hard for Dean to watch his brother in this state.

They told him that his brother had luck of his side since they got Sam here before the infections could set an even deeper fever than it was. Dean was close to breaking the table in the waiting room when he heard that. Lucky? His baby brother should be awake, on the road with him, enduring Dean's light teasing about how he should get a tracker implanted in him and Sam would roll his eyes and call him a jerk and then they'd conclude with "we almost died again but were still breathing" sex. Instead Sam laid unconscious, healing from the injuries inflicted by the monster.

All because someone wanted to hurt me by hurting the person I love...

Dean pushed a lock of greasy hair off of his brother's face with his free hand before lightly caressed the cheek that was not bruised as badly as the other. "I'm sorry Sammy." Dean was glad that no one else was there to hear the crack in his voice. "I should have protected you and I failed. But I'm here now. I promise I'm not going to leave you."

Dean sat back in the chair and watched his brother, anxiousness and leftover adrenalin the only thing keeping his urge to sleep at bay.

What seemed to be eons but was most likely hours later the eldest Winchester was amused he hadn't succumb to the effects of his latest insomnia. His adrenaline had simmered down hours ago, leaving him feeling sluggish and ready to drop. He hasn't slept since Sam disappeared, the small nap Bobby and Beverly forced him to take at the motel as useless as he felt at the time. He couldn't sleep while his brother was being tortured by that psychopath.

Dean rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to rub the sleep away. He couldn't sleep now that he got Sam back. He couldn't give in to the aching need just yet.

Instead he tried busying himself. He continued his routine from the waiting room and paced back and forth in the small room. He stared out the window, watching the ink black sky mesh with the red and orange of the incoming morning. He even made mental barters with whatever was listening; his life for Sam's, giving up meat and converting to Sam's tasteless food religion, Dean going back in time and being the one to endure the torture and pain instead of his brother. He even hesitantly decided to throw in letting Sam drive the Impala for a few days. Surely his Baby would understand why he would let Sam drive for a few days. She knew how much Sam meant to him.

A majority of the time was spent at Sam's side, watching his brother for changes and willing for him to recover quickly.

For the second time since Sam's disappearance Dean found himself wishing that Castiel was still alive. He would have healed Sam and they wouldn't have needed to go to the hospital. Sam would have been just fine. Other than the devil hanging around and taunting his brother, making him see things that Dean couldn't bare to think of.

Lucifer probably won't let this go for a while. Knowing how the dick was when he was on Earth, he would probably use this to torture Sam for a while. The thought made his stomach churn. Sam must have spent captivity not only with a psychopath but with the hallucination of the Archangel that literally put his brother through Hell.

Please don't let him remember too much of what happened, Dean silently prayed. Please let him forget Lucifer was with him and what that monster did.

With their luck, Sam would remember every single painful moment with both Ryan and his hallucination.

He heard the pair footsteps behind him and couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh when he heard the question:

"How is he?"

Dean turned to stare at the duo that cautiously approached him. He must have looked as bad as he felt, for he saw how Bobby failed to hold back the cringe when he saw Dean's bloodshot eyes.

"Doc says he's in a coma since he needs to heal from everything but he's stable," Dean explained halfheartedly. He knew Bobby could sense the worrisome thoughts invading Dean's mind. The older man walked over to Dean and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"He'll be okay Dean. You two have survived worse."

"He nearly died in my arms Bobby," Dean said, unaware of how he choked on his words. He looked up at Bobby, allowing the dam holding the tears back to crack a bit. "He stopped breathing for god knows how long. I was too close to losing him again."

The ordeal had taken Dean down memory lane to the time when Sam was taken by the Yellow Eyed Demon to Cold Oaks and how worried he was for his brother. Sam died in his arms then, and Dean couldn't handle the fact that his brother was dead when he should have been in the Impala with Dean, on their way to the next case in a state far from Cold Oak. He knew Sam felt the same way when he was torn away from him and brought down to Hell. It destroyed him, causing him to believe that demon bitch and go on a crazy rampage to try and destroy Lilith. Dean smiled sadly at the thought. They can't function without one another.

About a minute after his brooding, Dean noticed that Bobby and Beverly were both wearing different clothes. Beverly's black hair looked damp, and Bobby's shirt was clear of the blood from the tussle when they went to get Sam. Dean caught a faint whiff of gasoline coming from the two. The eldest Winchester soon came to the conclusion that they must have went back and burned the warehouse down and took showers to get rid of the lingering smell of gasoline before returning to the hospital. Still he couldn't help but ask if they had indeed done what he suspected.

"Did you-"

"The warehouse is gone," Bobby said. "All that's left of it is the ashes."

"That's the first and last time I'm committing arson," Beverly muttered, pulling her slightly damp hair into a ponytail. "The fire department was on their way by the time we left. We would have been back sooner but we wanted to make sure the shack and the dick inside were gone."

Dean felt the lump in his throat grow. They went back to destroy Sam's hell while he was with said brother, worrying about his condition. He was grateful that he had a friend like Bobby and that they ran into the quirky IT.

"So when does the doc think he'll wake up?" Beverly asked, changing the subject. She walked over to the still body on the bed and placed her hand over Sam's. She began rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand as Dean spoke.

"He said probably three or four days. Sammy needs time to heal from his injuries." Beverly nodded in acknowledgment as she continued rubbing Sam's hand.

Silence soon settled in the atmosphere. Dean, occupied with watching his brother closely and making sure he was breathing regularly, almost missed Beverly's voice cutting into the silence as she spoke to him.

"Dean if there's anything else I can do to help-"

"You've done enough for us," Dean stopped the woman mid-sentance. "Without you we probably wouldn't have found Sam," Dean said, looking back at the still man on the bed. "You really helped us out back there."

Beverly shrugged. "It was no big deal. After all I couldn't just let you two waste too much time tracking him down."

The sound of an old telephone ringing came out of nowhere. Beverly released Sam's hand and reached into her pocket. She pulled a small outdated flip-phone out of her worn jeans.

"Gotta change that ringtone," she said as she flipped it open and read the text message. "My brother's here to pick me up. He's waiting outside. Guess I should be going," she said.

Dean felt somewhat disappointed. He had hoped she could stay until Sam woke up so he could introduce his brother to the woman who helped saved his ass. He had a feeling the two would get along and bond over nerdy crap. However he knew she should get back home and go back to doing whatever it was she was doing before she met them.

Without a word Dean held out a hand and waited for Beverly to shake it. Instead he was surprised with arms wrapped around his shoulders, tugging him in for a hug. Not knowing what to say, Dean mimicked Beverly's actions and hugged her back.

She was halfway out the door when Dean heard her shout "I almost forgot," which earned her a few glares from passing nurses.

Beverly ran back into the private room, rummaging through her messenger bag. She muttered in frustration until she pulled out a small piece of paper and a pen. She scribbled something down onto the paper and handed it to Dean.

"I know hunters change phone numbers all the time but if you ever need help hacking anything just call me and I promise next time I'll be better with surveillance cameras," she said. Dean huffed out a laugh, too tired to think of a response.

"Goodbye Dean."

She stood up on her toes and gave him a small peck on his left cheek before spinning around and heading through the door. Dean watched her, trying to think of something to say before she left.

"Beverly," he finally called out before she could leave. She turned around, ponytail bouncing as she turned.

"You deserve better men than that dick of an ex."

"You got any suggestions?" she asked, eyebrows raised in mock-flirtation.

"Sorry but I'm already taken."

"I know. I wouldn't want to interfere with that," she said. She knew what they had was messy and taboo but it was also special and she knew that anyone who tried to come between them would end up as dead as the dick they had recently disposed of. "Be good to him Dean."

"Don't have to tell me to."

She smiled, eyes tired from lack of sleep but still bright from the satisfaction that she helped saved a life. Dean knew the look well; he and Sam used to get it after they finished a case and saved a civilian.

"Get some sleep Dean. Sam won't disappear on you."

Dean wanted to tell her that with their luck Sam would disappear by the end of their conversation but he was too tired to voice his worry so instead he settled for a nod while trying to stifle the yawn threatening to escape him.

He watched Beverly leave the room worth Bobby following-possibly going to escort the IT to the car and have a few final words with her-before turning his attention back to the sleeping form on the bed. He sat down in the chair and watched Sam's chest rise and fall, satisfied with the fact that despite the torture inflicted on Sam he was one stubborn bastard who didn't give up.

"You need to rest Sam but don't worry I'll be here when you wake up," Dean promised his sleeping brother. He reached for Sam's hand, the one without the cast, and cradled it in his own.

That was how Bobby found them when he returned; Dean's head resting on the bed next to Sam's arm, chest rising up and down slowly as he slept, his hand gently curled around his brother's.

I apologize for not updating this for so long. It's been a rough couple of months for me and I couldn't find the inspiration to continue but I finally found it. There will are only 2 chapters left so hopefully I'll be done by the end of next month. I will be revising other chapters so look out for that. Thank you for sticking around and for your support. I couldn't have done this without each and every one of you.