No Author's Note this time, Just a HUGE THANKS to all my fans! (Gosh, I sound like I won an Emmy or something. LOL. I guess to me getting over 100 reviews is like winning an Emmy.) I was seriously considering starting a "Supernatural Fanfic Award site" what do you think? If I start one, would anyone be willing to help me judge?

Chapter 6: (Dean's POV)

Dean turned at the sound of his brother's voice, hope filling him. Sam didn't leave him--hadn't run away when he needed him the most. "Sammy, you okay?" He asked.

Sam gave him a slight smile, standing beside the cart after the nurse had moved away to give them a little bit of privacy. "Yeah, Dean. I'm fine. You gave me a heart attack, but I'm fine."

The nurse conversed with the x-ray technologist, then walked back over to him. In an overly cheerful voice, she told him that they were done with the scans and x-rays and that she was going to see about getting him a room, before walking over to the corner phone, still within sight of her patient, to call Admissions for a room.

Grabbing the arm that was resting on the bed rail, he pulled his brother closer to him, his voice was shaking as he whispered in his brother's ear with desperation, "Sam. Sammy. We've got to get out of here, now!"

Sam's eyes grew wide with fear, looking around to assess the threat. When he didn't find an immediate one, he looked back at his brother, grasping his hand--the one that was squeezing his arm--gently. Sam's voice pitched low, "Dean, you're hurt. These people can help you. They aren't a threat--I mean, I know we've had problem in the past with social workers, but we're adults now, they can't do anything."

Dean shook his head at his brother, "Sam, please, it's not that. I- I have to get out of here. Damn it, Sam, you owe me." His chest was heaving now, making it harder on his healing lung to get him the oxygen that he required. The monitor starting beeping, making the nurse hang up the phone to rush over to check on him. Whipping out her stethoscope, she pulled down the cloth gown to check his breathing, then looked back on the monitor.

Turning accusingly towards Sam, her voice was no longer perky, "You're are upsetting your brother, Mr. Winchester. I think you should wait in the waiting room now. Perhaps, after we get Dean settled and calm again, you can see him then." Sternly, she pointed to the room labeled with a sign, waiting until Sam left before turning towards Dean again.

Dean grabbed the bottom of her scrub top before she could call the doctor for orders, "Miss, please. It wasn't my brother's fault. I just got a little upset, please. I need to see my brother. Please." He gave her his best "puppy dog face".

Unfortunately, she was immune to that face, because she pushed his hand off her shirt to tell him she had to report it as a 'medical event' during the time he was in her care. She told him he was still theoretically an "ER patient," until the time that he was to be admitted to the pulmonary department and that his care was her responsibility. Ignoring a second attempt, she called down to the doctors in the ER, who then ordered a sedative to be administered.

Dean cursed his weakness, he couldn't prevent her from injecting him through the IV. In a doze, he watched the fluorescent lights above his head dance around as he was wheeled into a room, then moved into a bed. After a few minutes, he couldn't fight it anymore, slipping into a dreamless state of sleep.

When Dean woke, the first thing that he noticed was that Sam was sitting next to him, reading a magazine quietly. His throat felt dry and cracked as he called out to him.

"Sam. You're here?"

Placing the magazine to the side, Sam leaned in towards Dean's bed until their heads rested next to each other. "I'm here, Dean. I think I annoyed the nursing staff so much that they let me stay in here just so that I could stop bothering them." Sam stopped his babbling suddenly, taking a deep breath-- he started again. He touched their heads so that he could speak quietly. "Dean. You scared me. I've never seen you get that upset before. That nurse had to sedate you, Dean. You've been sleeping for a day and a half. What happened?"

Dean gulped and licked his lips. Sam finally noticed his plight and got up to get him some water from the small pitcher resting beside him. Pouring it in a small cup, he found a straw and then brought it up to Dean's lips. Closing his eyes as he sipped at the cool liquid, it did nothing to settle him down.

Once he'd gotten his mouth to work again, he pleaded with his brother once more, "Sam, please. Please, get me out of here. Now."

Sam got up out of the chair to pace next to his bed, rubbing his jaw and mumbling under his breath, "Dean, you've got a tube in your chest. They aren't going to let you leave. You're going to be here for a couple more days; the doctor has already told me that much. Tell me why."

Now, Dean was mad. "Sam. Damn it. I'm asking you to help me. If you won't, I'll do it myself." With a hard grunt, he forced himself to sit up, grabbing hold of the railing until the dizzy spell subsided. Sam ran over to help him, surprised when Dean pushed him away with an energy he didn't know that he had. "Leave me alone, Sam."

Ripping off the stupid green snappy gown, he went about taking off the sticky patches and EKG leads, making them sound an alarm. Sam tried again to calm his brother, but was pushed aside again as nurses, doctors, and a rescue team entered the room. Dean fought them like a mad-man, kicking and punching anyone who tried to touch him.

"I want to leave! Get the hell off of me! I have a right to refuse treatment and I'm leaving! You can't stop me!" Dean's chest was heaving as he ripped out the IV, blood and saline droplets soon covered the floor in his rush to escape.

His hand went to his chest, and that's when Sam acted. He grabbed hold of his brother, wrapping his arms around his chest as gently as he could before whispering frantically in his ear to calm down. "Dean, listen. Okay, I'll help you. Alright? Just don't take that out. We'll have the doctor do that and then we'll leave, alright? I promise."

Sam turned towards Dr. Bruce, who'd ran in to check on his patient. "Dr. Bruce, my brother wants to leave. He doesn't want to stay. Is it safe to take out the tube now? You said that it had to stay in at least a couple days. It's been two days…"

Dr. Bruce seemed upset, but nodded. "That'd be fine. We were planning on taking it out tomorrow, however if you are going to fight us and get upset, it won't help matters much." Taking the chair that Sam had occupied, he sat down and pulled on a pair of gloves. The nurses assisted him as he worked, first mentioning to him the risks of pulling out the tube so soon. "You understand, of course, there are risks. Your lung could re-collapse. You can wrap your ribs, though I won't recommend it because of the bruising, and take an over-the-counter anti-inflammatory if it becomes painful. I hope that you will re-consider your stay. Perhaps your brother can get your things ready for you while the nurses get your discharge AMA papers?"

Sam got the hint as he walked out of the door and let the doctor talk to Dean.

Once he was out of earshot, Dean became defensive, "What do you know? And what did you tell my brother?"

Dr. Bruce stood up, "Mr. Winchester, yes, we did receive your medical history reports from our medical database. And to be frank with you, I'm concerned."

Dean pulled out his clothes from the drawer next to the bed slowly, blinking at the dots that marred his eyesight. "Frankly, doctor, I don't care if you are concerned. It's my life!" Pulling on his pants, he looked back at the man, "Did you tell Sam?"

The doctor looked at him gravely, "No. I didn't. I respect your privacy and the privacy of all of my patients, Mr. Winchester. Since he never mentioned it to us when we questioned him about your medical history, it didn't seem right for us to bring it up to him. Can I ask what your plans are? Are you being treated?"

Slowing, Dean turned to him, pulling out the prescription bottle from his pants, showing it to him before tucking it back into his pants, "Yeah. I'm being treated. Can I go now?"

"Yes. But I truly hope that you understand, we aren't out to hurt you. We want to help." Dr. Bruce held out his hand to the young man in front of him. It was ignored.

Dean gave him a cocky smile, "Yeah, everyone is out to help. Thanks, doc, but I'm out of here. I'm not going to die in a hospital bed, I've known that since I was four years old. There's nothing you can do, so there's no point. My brother and I are leaving, and he's not going to find out; you hear me?" The smile turned cold as he spoke. It was the only thing that he had left.

Sam re-entered the room a little while later with his leather jacket and a new shirt. Helping him put it on, Sam gazed at him worriedly after that small amount of work had him breathing heavily.

Dr. Bruce watched his patient, shaking his head at the hopelessness of the situation. Pulling out his prescription pad, he filled out three forms, then handed them to his patient. He counted it as a win when they didn't enter the trash. "In case…you need them later on, alright?"

They were shoved in his pocket, before grabbing a pen from the nurse in front of him and blindly signing the X's in front of him in his hurry to leave. Signing the last one with a flourish, Dean waved aside the wheelchair. When the nurse was going to argue that it was hospital policy, the doctor shook his head, then stood aside to let them both leave.

Sam walked behind his brother, watching him as he struggled to walk because of his ribs. He waited until they were finally alone in the elevator before speaking to him. "Dean, are you sure about this?"

Dean flashed a smile at his brother, slapping him lightly on his cheek, "Yeah, I'm sure. There's nothing to worry about… I just have a thing about hospitals. I hate 'um."

Sam threw an arm around his shoulders, "You've never told me that before--."

The elevator door opened, cutting off his sentence, as he helped his brother to his car. "Oh, and Dean, If you think that I'm going to just let you do on doing what you want, you're wrong." His brother gave him a confused look. "I'm driving from now on. And we aren't taking another job for at least another month, while you heal."

Opening the passenger side door, Dean didn't need to answer his brother, the groans and cries as he tried to sit down spoke for him. Once he'd finally been able to sit down, he leaned his head back against the headrest to catch his breath. His face was now pale and sweaty. "Sam?"


Dean opened his eyes to see his brother in the same position he'd been in to help him, hunched on his heels and crouched down in front of his seat. "Could you please fix the seat for me? You know, lean it back?"

Sam turned the knob on the edge of the seat as slow as he could, lowering the seat until Dean was resting comfortably. "See, Sammy. One of the best things about this car, reclining bucket seats. Great for the honeys."

Shaking his head with mild amusement, Sam grabbed a blanket from the truck, then threw it over his brother before closing the passenger side door and getting in to the driver's seat.

Turning the key, the engine roared to life. "Dean? Are we okay, now?" He waited for him to answer before putting the car into gear.

Dean looked back at Sam, shaking his head slightly, "Yeah, Sam. We're okay. Life's too short for me to be mad at you for too long. Of course, if you wreck my car, I'll have to kill you."

"I've heard that one before. I think you need to come up with a new line," Sam joked, not really expecting a come-back. Dean leaned back, head looking out the window as they drove away from the hospital. He looked ready to sleep.

Unfortunately, sleep wasn't coming. Staring at the bricks that housed so many hurt, injured, and dying people, he couldn't wait until it left his sight. He wanted to be brave; to not let a building scare him. Hell, it wasn't even haunted, in the supernatural sense. But it did haunt him. All hospitals did. They did from the moment he'd walked into one almost two years ago. He'd walked in, afraid that he would never walk out again.

They told him to fight-- fight an invisible enemy. And that was something he'd never done before. There were things in this world that no one else saw but him; monsters out there that destroyed people's lives on a daily basis and those were the things that he could fight. Yet, the doctors, nurses, aids, and techs kept trying to make him believe that the one thing he couldn't see, it was microscopic and hidden within his own body, was out to kill him.

But he did fight, he fought every day until they told him that they'd destroyed it. The invisible enemy was defeated; he wasn't used to an enemy that he'd fought coming back for seconds. Usually, if he killed it, it'd stay dead.

But it didn't this time, it came back when it knew that he was at his weakest; And now, the fight was on again; problem was, it was stronger now, fully powered and ready to do it's worst.

He'd fight it, Dean promised himself. But it wasn't going to put him in a hospital, it wasn't going to take away his life again. Not now, not when his brother needed him, his father needed him.

Sam drove away, turning on the car stereo to interrupt the quiet. The radio played softly, not of his usual hard rock collection, a song he'd never heard with a voice that seemed heavenly. She spoke of immortality, love and loss-- and that she'd never forget.

Dean let it sooth him, relaxing for the first time since he'd left the Asylum.

He'd be okay--there was nothing in this world that he and his family couldn't fight.

The End.

So, what do you think?

I worked so hard on this chapter…I could've kept going forever, but I figured it'd just lead into the next episode. And if it's as good as Asylum, well, I'll write another one. ;).